Proposal for the Wedding Planner

His relief at such a minor point enforced her opinion of the strain he was under.

‘Like you wouldn’t believe. Any answers you find will be extremely welcome.’

He opened the door and ushered her in, the light touch of his fingers on her back shooting tingles up and down her spine, spreading heat as they went. Unwarranted yet strangely exciting.

The décor in the much smaller room matched his office, and included two identical armchairs by the window. But the position of the desk was wrong, standing out from the wall facing the door they’d entered. She walked round to check the two desktops and a keyboard, all wired up ready to go. He followed, stopping within touching distance.

‘Your employer asked for the duplication. Easier for comparisons, huh?’

‘Much. What’s the password?’

He told her. While she activated the computer, he removed a blue folder from the drawer, and placed it on the desk.

‘Anything else you require?’

‘I’ll need a copy of the report for highlighting and a writing pad for notes.’

‘Help yourself to anything in the cupboard. The copier is in Joanne’s office off reception.’

‘The blonde lady?’

‘Yes, currently we don’t have a receptionist. If you have any questions regarding your task ask me. If it’s office related Joanne or any one of the other five emplo

yees can help.’

He walked out, not giving her a chance to say thank you, leaving his heady sea-spray aroma behind. Did he treat everyone in the same offhand manner?

Lauren felt like pounding the desk. She’d handled ruder employers who’d been under less pressure with poise and conviction. I’m-the-boss males with autocratic, archaic, even on occasion sexist, views were certainly not an endangered species. It didn’t wash with her. They were in a predicament and she was the solution so she made it clear: no respect and she walked.

The personal aspect here had shaken her composure, giving the impression she doubted her abilities. She’d show him. Tomorrow she’d be the perfect detached computer specialist.

She selected stationery from the cupboard, skim-read the printed files, then spent ten minutes perusing the computer data prior to closing down. The few pertinent notes she’d written would save time in the morning.

Carrying the audit reports, she tried the door leading to the corridor. Finding it locked, she went into Matt Dalton’s office. He was standing, sorting papers on his desk. His gaze was less than friendly to someone he’d hired to solve his problems.

‘I’ll copy these then I’ll be leaving. What time is the office open in the morning?’ Polite and stilted, following his lead. The fizz in her stomach could and would be controlled.

‘I’m here from seven. Do you need transport?’

‘I’ll sort that out.’

‘Good.’ He returned to his papers.

She swung away, heat flooding her from head to feet at his dismissive action. All her fantasies came crashing down. Spoilt, rich, I-can-take-what-I-want teenager had become arrogant, treat-hired-staff-with-disdain boss. Was that why people had left without notice? She’d never wished bad karma on anyone, but she was coming close today!

Long deep breaths as she went out helped to settle her stomach and stop the trembling of her hands.

Before re-entering Mr Dalton’s office, printouts in hand, she reinforced her prime rule of contract work. Never, never, ever get involved. Someone always ended up heartbroken.

Swearing the oath was easy. Sticking to it when confronted with those hypnotic blue eyes that invited her to confess her innermost secrets was tougher than she’d expected. Especially when his lips curled into a half-smile as he said goodbye.

She stabbed at the ground-floor button, angry that she’d smiled back, dismayed that even his small polite gesture had weakened her resolve. The thrill of the chase ought to be in his computer files, not in dreaming of—She wouldn’t dream of anything. Especially not midnight-blue eyes, firm jaws or light touches that sent emotions into a frenzy.