Bella's Impossible Boss

by Michelle Douglas

  ‘You’ll do a good job, Bella.’

  She wished she had his confidence, but if effort counted for anything then she would pull this off.

  His eyes were as blue as the ocean outside the window and as warm as the spring sunshine. She swallowed. ‘I’m sorry I said you had no heart. That wasn’t true.’

  Their eyes locked and something shimmered between them. It created a disturbance in the air, like a heat haze. She saw then that, where there’d been two sofa-cushions’ distance between them, now there was only one and she wasn’t sure which of them had moved.

  Hunger flared in his eyes. It softened her belly, her womb. He made as if to reach out and touch her. She swayed towards him, aching for his touch.

  And then he slammed back in his seat. ‘Don’t go getting all starry-eyed on me, Bella.’

  Her heart thumped painfully. She sat back, too. ‘Starry-eyed over you?’ She made herself snort. ‘You have tickets on yourself.’ She tossed her hair. ‘You think you are such a player, but you aren’t even in the game, buster!’

  He grinned. ‘That’s better.’

  ‘Pah!’ She struggled to hide a smile of her own. ‘What’s more, you can’t even make a decent coffee.’

  She grabbed their mugs and made for the kitchen. She ground coffee beans, stared out at the harbour and told her wilful body to behave. Dominic was right—stars in her eyes were the last thing she needed.

  * * *

  Juggling briefcase and file, Bella let herself into the apartment. Late-afternoon light poured in at the windows and not for the first time she was grateful that her father had changed their temporary living quarters.

  She might not be any less aware of Dominic here than at the previous apartment, but at least they had room to breathe here, and room to work.

  She moved out of the tiny foyer and pulled up short when she saw Dominic seated at the dining table with his back to her. He didn’t turn to greet her and that was when she realised he hadn’t heard her. For some reason that made her smile.

  That table could comfortably serve four people as a desk, and every evening for the past two weeks they’d set up at it and Dominic had taught her all he’d promised to—spreadsheets, budgets, basic and not-so-basic accounting.

  Plus more. He’d taught her how to recognise her staff’s strengths and, as a result, how to delegate tasks efficiently. He’d taught her that she didn’t have to do it all on her own. Most importantly of all, he’d instilled a new sense of confidence in her. He’d made her realise that she did have a brain that was worth a whole lot more than a tuppence. He’d even taught her long division.

  He’d been patient, incisive and knowledgeable and she’d developed a whole new respect for him.

  She went to greet him, but...

  What was he doing?

  A grin broke through her when she realised he was dangling a piece of string from the table to the floor and, although Minky was doing her best to feign indifference, she obviously hadn’t fooled Dominic for a moment.

  Bella set her briefcase on the floor. He showed the same patience with Minky as he had with her when explaining a difficult concept. She held her file against her chest and watched. Minky stood, stretched and ambled in a disinterested circle, but when she sat again she was closer to the piece of string than before. It made Bella grin. She wanted to tell Minky to stop the pretence and give in now. Dominic would win her around in the end. Resistance would be futile.

  And then Minky pounced. Dominic laughed and twitched the string just out of reach. Minky danced, arched her back, pounced, ran away and then came racing back to pounce again. The cat’s utter delight in the game made Bella grin. No wonder Mel adored the cat. But it was Dominic’s low rumble of a laugh and his enjoyment that made something in her chest catch. He would make such a great dad!

  The thought was so unexpected it made her blink, but in the next breath her shoulders started to ache as if a heavy weight bore down on them. Dominic claimed he didn’t believe in love. He swore he would never marry, would never commit to a woman, would never have a family. Couldn’t he see how much he’d be missing?

  Sadness for him welled inside her. Sadness for the loneliness, the isolation in which he wrapped himself. She must’ve made some betraying noise because he swung around and then gave an abashed grin. ‘Sprung, I see.’

  ‘Totally.’ Her voice came out husky. ‘Admit it, you like the cat.’

  ‘She’s grown on me.’

  His red-gold hair haloed his head, his eyes sparked blue and it suddenly hit Bella that a great part of her sadness was for herself too—because she wanted to grow on him, as well?

  She moistened her lips, told herself to stop being ridiculous and forced herself to move more fully into the room. ‘Coffee?’

  ‘I’d love one.’

  She dropped her file to the table as she walked past, bent down to pet Minky and dragged in the scent of cinnamon, wishing she had the right to drop a kiss to the top of Dominic’s head so she could breathe him in more fully. ‘You should get yourself a dog,’ she said when she straightened.

  ‘I live in an apartment.’

  ‘So? Get a house instead.’

  ‘Dogs aren’t conducive to a jet-setting lifestyle.’

  Neither was a wife and children. Bella forced herself around the bench. She peered over the top of it at him for a moment and shrugged. ‘So? Get a dog-sitter.’

  She promptly set about grinding coffee beans. ‘Or get a life,’ she murmured under her breath. A proper life. A life filled with people, passion, fun, laughter and...

  Stop it! How he chose to live his life was none of her business. Why should she be sad that he cut himself off from the things she thought vital?

  She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.

  Why did she make sure there was always citrus tart in the refrigerator? Citrus tart wasn’t her weakness, it was his. Her hands started to shake. Why did she spend the week thinking of some fun social thing they could do together on the weekends and was then on cloud nine when he enjoyed it and praised her inventiveness?

  She crossed her arms, her fingers digging into the flesh above her elbows. For heaven’s sake, why had she looked forward to learning long division?

  Dominic made her laugh. He challenged her. He made her a better person.

  She glanced at him and her heart thumped hard. She was in a right pickle. She’d gone and done the most ridiculous thing a girl could do.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ‘BELLA?’

  Concern flared in Dominic’s eyes. Bella shook herself and forced a smile to her lips. ‘You know, I do want a dog and I don’t want a jet-setting lifestyle.’

  He didn’t say anything.

  ‘I love my father, but I don’t want to spend the next ten years working for his company if it means spending two months in this capital city, and then three months in a different capital city, until all of those capital cities start blurring into each other and I find it harder and harder to be passionate about any location. I want to run my own restaurant. Just the one. I don’t need world domination. I want to stay in one place and...’

  ‘And?’

  And have a family. But her throat had closed over, making it impossible to say out loud. She wanted to have a family.

  She’d always wanted to have a family, but it was a dream that she’d told herself was for the future and not for the here and now. She’d kept telling herself that she was too young, but...

  The two budding relationships she’d had that could’ve developed into something more, she’d sabotaged. Dominic had been right; she did use her virginity as a shield. She hadn’t been able to face the thought that either man might find her lacking, that they might think her ignorant and feeble-minded.

  Her mouth dried as she reached for two coffee mugs. She’d shared her fears with Dominic and he hadn’t laughed at her, he hadn’t thought any the less of her. He still had faith in her. That had changed something inside her on a deep and fundamental lev
el.

  She wanted to have a family. And she didn’t want to put that dream off any more.

  She glanced across at him and could imagine how her dream would repel him. She wanted to have a family and it was pointless denying it any longer: she ached to have that family with Dominic. It was stupid. It was crazy and futile.

  And she couldn’t do anything about it.

  ‘And what else do you want, Bella?’

  She swallowed, but smiling was beyond her. ‘I want to grow roots somewhere. I want to belong to a community.’

  ‘I guess you won’t be working on the next Maldini hotel, then?’

  Was there a hint of sadness in the beach-blue of his eyes? She dismissed the notion as wishful thinking. ‘I guess that gig is all yours.’ It would be wiser to face the truth, to not spin unrealistic fantasies. ‘I think Papa will understand. I think he’ll be proud of me anyway.’

  ‘I’m sure of it, Bella.’

  Why did he have to say her name like that—as if he liked saying it? It thickened her throat all over again.

  She poured one of the coffees down the sink and set the other in front of him. He raised an eyebrow when he saw she didn’t have one. ‘I changed my mind. I need a walk to blow away the cobwebs rather than a coffee.’

  She headed to her room to change into jeans and sneakers and prayed he wouldn’t suggest coming along. She needed time away from him for a bit. She had to work out exactly what she needed to do.

  Did she fight for Dominic? Or did she let him go without a murmur?

  * * *

  Bella sat on a sand dune on Nobby’s beach and tried to verbalise her options. ‘One.’ She held out a finger. ‘I could tell him how I feel.’

  She snorted. Yeah, right, as if that wouldn’t have him running for the hills. She barely suppressed a shudder when she imagined his reaction.

  ‘Two.’ She held out a second finger. ‘I could just continue on as if nothing has changed, hide my feelings and do absolutely nothing.’

  She fell back on the sand to stare up at the late-afternoon sky. The clouds were tinged pink and orange, the sky a pale blue. Do nothing? Everything inside her protested at the thought. Energy seeped out until she thought she might melt into the sand. Do nothing?

  ‘What else can I do?’ she asked the clouds. To tell him how she felt would make him miserable. She didn’t want to make him feel bad about himself. It wasn’t his fault she’d fallen in love with him. He’d warned her about the kind of man he was, of the kind of life he wanted.

  They’d agreed they were chalk and cheese, oil and water, seriously unsuited. To tell him how she felt wouldn’t change a thing. It wouldn’t magically bring him round to her way of thinking. It’d only make things awkward.

  She slapped the sand. In love with Dominic? When had it happened?

  She didn’t ask why; the why was easy. Chalk and cheese, oil and water, had nothing to do with it. Nor did the tempting breadth of his shoulders, the tantalising blue of his eyes or the impact of his smile.

  It had everything to do with the inner man. She’d watched him befriend Minky, she’d witnessed his gentleness towards the men at the shelter—even as they brought back bad memories for him. She’d seen how hard he worked, how he encouraged his staff and how important it was for him to do a good job for Marco. Regardless of what he said and thought about himself, Dominic was an honourable man.

  He worked hard, he played hard and he could make her laugh as easily as he could do long division. His presence made her feel more alive than she had ever felt in her life before.

  How would she live without it when this project was over?

  She pressed her hands to the cool of the sand. One thing she couldn’t fool herself about was that Dominic returned her feelings.

  Or that he ever would.

  She sat up and stared out to sea. She had no right to expect anything from him.

  A small breeze whipped up, loosening strands of hair from her ponytail and tossing them about her face. She hugged her sweatshirt more tightly about her. There was one thing she and Dominic did have, though—chemistry.

  Ha! As if...

  She stilled in the act of trying to get her hair back under control. Chemistry... Making love...

  No, she couldn’t!

  Her blood started to pound. More hair escaped the grip of her ponytail. Well, why not?

  Stop it! She wanted to make love to a man she meant to spend the rest of her life with.

  She wanted to make love to the man she loved. Right or wrong, it was as simple as that.

  Blood surged around every part of her body, firing her with an ancient energy and a primitive longing. She dug her arms up to her elbows in the sand in an effort to anchor herself.

  Dominic didn’t do ‘for ever’, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t store up as many memories of him as she could before they went their separate ways. They could have one fabulous night together.

  Couldn’t they?

  It was possible, wasn’t it?

  Her heart surged against her ribs. She shook her arms free and reached up to pull the band from her hair. She tossed her head to free her locks to the caress of the wind. She wanted to love the man she first made love to.

  She loved Dominic.

  To make love with him... Her breath caught. The idea might be the wildest one she’d had yet, the most daring, but in her heart it felt right.

  He would resist any attempts at intimacy. Despite all he said, he was honourable at heart.

  She leapt to her feet. She’d just have to find a way to overcome his resistance; that was all there was to it.

  * * *

  The moment Dominic pushed through the front door his mouth started to water. Whatever Bella was cooking, it smelt sensational.

  Bella emerged from behind the bench that separated the kitchen from the rest of the living room. She sent him a smile so brilliant it pulled his skin tight across his bones. ‘Hello.’

  Alarm bells went off in his head, just like that. ‘What are you so dressed up for?’ he barked.

  She blinked. Her chin lifted. ‘Hello, Bella, how was work today?’

  Her pointed reproach made him feel suddenly graceless and awkward. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Besides, I’m not all that dressed up.’

  She shrugged. It drew his attention to her shoulders. The neckline of her blouse was modest, but her shoulders were bare. All of that delectable olive skin on display made his mouth dry. Then he noticed the dining table. It was set with white linen and crystal. What on earth? ‘You’re more dressed up than usual,’ he ground out. He nodded at the table set for two. ‘Are you expecting company?’

  She planted her hands on her hips and stuck one of those hips out. It made him realise precisely how long her legs were. It made his mouth more arid than a desert. He wanted to croak ‘Water,’ only he knew how absurd that would sound.

  ‘No, I am not expecting company. House rules, remember? No entertaining in the apartment.’

  His tie loosened from around his throat as the relief hit him. She didn’t have a date? No one was coming over? It was just the two of them? The world righted itself again.

  The two of them? His tie promptly threatened to cut off his circulation.

  He found it difficult not to stare at her. The filmy orange of her blouse highlighted the rich darkness of her hair and her eyes, while the flirty pink material of her skirt skimmed her hips to float about her knees. If a breeze caught hold of that skirt...

  He shut his eyes and counted to three. He opened them again. ‘So this is all in honour of...?’ He tried to keep his voice steady.

  ‘I found out today that one of our diners means to propose to his girlfriend on opening night. He came in today to ask if we could create a special menu for them.’

  She’d said yes, of course. He could see that in her eyes. He grinned and shook his head. She was such a romantic.

  ‘So this—’ she turned to gesture to the set table, the kitchen, her clothes ‘�
�is to help me find the right mood for our courting couple.’

  Dear God in heaven. Her back was bare! The tension ratcheted back through him with ten times the intensity.

  ‘Why don’t you put your briefcase and laptop away for the day, shower and change, and then come and give me your opinion of the meal I’ve prepared?’

  That was when he realised he hadn’t moved from his spot just inside the door. He hadn’t moved from the first moment he’d clapped eyes on her. He should say no. He should make some excuse and get the hell out of there. Plead work...

  She twirled a loose strand of hair in one finger, vulnerability flashing across her face. ‘I’d really welcome your feedback, Dominic. I want to get this just right.’

  He couldn’t refuse the entreaty in her eyes. It’d take a much colder heart than his to do so. ‘Uh, right.’ He forced his legs forward and then realised he was going in the wrong direction. ‘Will do.’ He changed direction with what he hoped was finesse. ‘Shower. Right. Good idea.’

  It’d be a cold shower.

  And he’d change into jeans to keep it deliberately casual. He shut his bedroom door and sagged against it. This meal wasn’t for him, he reminded himself. He’d tell her the food was superb, and the mood perfect, and then he’d promptly set his laptop up at the end of the table and immerse himself in work. Business, that was all this was—business. He tapped his fingers to his head in an attempt to burn it on to his brain.

  He nearly forgot it when he entered the living room again fifteen minutes later. Bella had dimmed the lights. She’d lit candles. She’d created an intimate, sexy atmosphere in all the light and airy space of the living room. He wanted to growl that none of this was necessary, blow out all the candles and turn the lights back on.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. Get a grip. She’s an artist. She was experimenting, practising at creating someone’s dream. His hormones were his problem, not hers.

  She came to stand beside him to survey the table. The faint tang of lemon and some herb, freshly cut, filled his nostrils, firing him with renewed awareness of her.