Nicola Marsh - Contract To Marry

Shaking his head, he resumed reading the reports on his desk and hoped that Fleur would call. If not, he’d have to come up with some other brilliant idea to make his company a viable proposition again. And hope to bump into another lady who piqued his interest as much as she had.

Fleur’s heels clicked against the polished parquetry floor as she strode towards the front desk of Innovative Imports, keeping pace with her pounding heart. She’d done at least thirty of these presentations by now and should be feeling more confident. However, she knew that her nervousness had more to do with whom she was pitching to today rather than her own material.

Strangely, the receptionist barely looked up as Fleur approached the desk. ‘Excuse me, I’m Fleur Adams and I’m here to see Darcy Howard.’

The girl glanced up, appearing harassed yet bored at the same time, if that was possible. ‘Take a seat and I’ll let him know you’ve arrived.’

Fleur smiled her thanks and received a polite nod in return before the receptionist turned away and punched numbers into a console. So much for first impressions. If this girl was any indication of the calibre of staff that the company employed, she’d have her work cut out for her. If Darcy Howard hired her, that was.

She’d barely sat down before the man in question opened a nearby door and beckoned to her. ‘Come in, Ms Adams. I’ve been expecting you.’

Fleur stood up, grabbed her portfolio and followed him into his office, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl being summoned to the principal’s office. If she thought Darcy Howard had looked intimidating the first time they’d met, it was nothing to the vibes he exuded now. Little wonder the receptionist didn’t have any spark in her; the poor thing was probably too scared to show any signs of life.

‘Please, have a seat.’ He waved towards an over-stuffed leather chair that didn’t look comfortable. ‘Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?’

‘No, thanks. And please, call me Fleur.’ She perched on the edge of the chair; as predicted, it threatened to eject a person from its shiny, over-filled surface rather than encourage sitting back and relaxing. Heck, she’d barely been here five minutes and already knew that this man needed her services to revamp every aspect of his business, from furniture to personnel.

He sat behind a monstrous mahogany desk and rested steepled fingers on his chest, reminding her once again of her old high-school principal. Next she’d be hearing, ‘Miss Adams, have you been smoking behind the shed?’ Or better still, ‘Miss Adams, your dress is far too short. Let that hem down at once!’

‘Is something funny?’

Trying to control the twitching of her lips, which threatened to break into a full-blown grin at any second, she schooled her face into a mask of professionalism. ‘Not at all. Now, where would you like me to start?’

He smiled, a small movement involving an upturning of his lips rather than a genuine happy gesture. ‘I’d like to hear what you can do for my company.’

‘That depends on you.’

‘Oh?’

How he managed to instil so much disapproval into one tiny syllable, she’d never know. However, far from being daunted, she launched into her spiel and hoped he’d buy it.

‘Mr Howard, I need to know your company’s strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats before I can give you an in-depth analysis of what I can offer you. Let’s begin with the stakeholders and key result areas—’

‘Let’s not,’ he interrupted, sitting forward and fixing her with a probing stare.

‘Pardon?’

He stood up and started pacing the office, drawing her attention to the designer suit encasing his toned body. For a businessman, he obviously found time to work out. Pity he couldn’t improve his personality to go with the body.

‘I don’t need some generic spiel about what you can offer the company. I’ve already read all that in your brochure and it’s exactly what I’m after.’ He stopped for a moment and sat on the corner of the desk, looking down at her. ‘Tell me about you.’

Surprised at his change of subject, Fleur tried to focus her attention on giving him a brief yet professional outline of her qualifications. However, the harder she tried to focus, the more her attention shifted to the man sitting in front of her with his crotch at eye level.

Wrenching her gaze away, she looked up at him, only to find him looking at her with those all-seeing, all-knowing blue eyes. And if she didn’t know any better, she could’ve sworn she glimpsed amusement in their depths.

Clearing her throat, she gave him the abbreviated version of what she assumed he wanted to know. ‘I’m an accountant by profession but found the job too restrictive. I completed a degree in psychology for kicks, anything to break out of the staid accountancy mould. And here I am, trying to combine the two.’

He fixed her with yet another piercing stare. ‘So what was so restrictive?’

‘Everything,’ she answered too quickly, before composing herself. ‘I mean, some people just aren’t cut out for that type of work and I’m one of them.’

He quirked an eyebrow. ‘Why?’

‘I like to live outside the box. I’ll try anything once and being an accountant, surrounded by conservative types who try their utmost to stay inside that box, just didn’t do it for me.’ The interview had taken a decidedly personal turn and, rather than being insulted, Fleur was strangely flattered that he wanted to know what made her tick.

‘Anything, huh?’ He leaned towards her and for one, insane moment she thought he might kiss her.

She nodded, wondering if she’d lost her mind and mentally cursing Liv for filling her head with romantic notions from those damn novels she read.

He stood up and extended his hand. ‘Good. In that case, you’re hired.’

Fleur managed a smile as she placed her hand in his, more prepared this time for the little jolt of electricity that shot up her arm. ‘Thanks for the opportunity. I won’t let you down.’

She wasn’t sure if he held her hand a fraction too long before dropping it. ‘How soon can you start?’

‘Whenever you want me.’

‘Tonight?’ And just like that, the air around them seemed to crackle with some indefinable force, leaving Fleur with the distinct urge to test the boundaries with her new boss.

So what if he acted as if he’d just stepped off the ark? Maybe she could help him lighten up a little and have some fun in the process.

But he’s your boss.

The thought dampened her impish side in a second. What was she thinking? She’d just landed a prime job with a large company that could set her own business on its way and what was she planning? To seduce the boss! She needed to get a life. Fast.

‘Tonight is fine. What did you have in mind?’

He turned away from her and returned to the sanctuary of his desk. ‘Why don’t we have dinner and I can fill you in on the company?’ Several papers were picked up and reshuffled, as if he didn’t care about her answer.

Fleur’s heart lurched at the thought of spending an evening with this man, who had the power to unnerve her without trying. ‘Sure. Name the place and time.’

He looked up, an expression of relief softening his hard features. ‘The Potter Lounge. At eight?’

Fleur hoped the surprise didn’t show on her face. He’d just named one of Melbourne’s stuffiest, pretentious restaurants, usually reserved for regular guests or those hell-bent on making an impression.

‘Formal or cocktail wear?’

‘Whatever takes your fancy.’ His gaze wandered down the length of her body, leaving a trail of goose pimples in its wake. ‘Though I’m sure you’d look great in anything.’