Her Bad, Bad Boss

by Nicola Marsh

  Not bad. The make-up provided an excellent confidence mask, though it was difficult to disguise the doubt in her eyes. Her windows to the soul definitely needed some new blinds.

  She snacked on a bagel to quell her rolling tummy as she quickly repacked and ten minutes later joined the guys down at the wharf awaiting their JetCat transport. After handing over her backpack to the transport staff, she took a deep breath and headed down the wooden planks.

  A long, low wolf whistle heralded her arrival. ‘Look at you.’ Jack gave her a thumbs up, his grin appreciative.

  ‘Wow.’ Cody winked, staring at her over the top of his sunglasses and wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.

  She smiled at the guys, her confidence slipping when Rhys turned, his eyes inscrutable behind mirrored shades.

  ‘A bit much for where we’re going, though the grizzlies may be impressed,’ he said, before turning his back and squatting to fiddle with the straps on his pack.

  Jade’s smile didn’t slip despite her utter deflation at his comment. Not that she’d been expecting a compliment. She’d done all this for herself, right?

  ‘Are you blind? We’ve got a stunner in our midst and you think it’s a bit much? You’ve spent too much time behind your desk. Your brain is oxygen-starved.’ Jack glared at Rhys’s back before poking out his tongue.

  ‘I second that. You’re becoming a fuddy-duddy, boss. Time to get you back out there so you can live a little,’ Cody said, grinning. ‘After all, if you can’t appreciate a beautiful woman you must be blind, half-dead, or both.’

  Jade resisted the urge to high-five the boys as Rhys’s shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t respond.

  ‘Don’t worry about him. He’s been like a bear with a sore head all morning.’ Jack dropped his voice low and jerked his thumb towards Rhys. ‘Probably just nerves about being out in the field again. Been a long time between drinks for our fearless leader. We think he’s as twitchy as a bull in mating season.’

  Cody groaned and grabbed Jack by the arm. ‘You’re talking to a lady, remember?’

  Jack shuffled his feet, eyes downcast. ‘Sorry, Jade.’

  She loved seeing the two friends interact; it was like watching a comedy skit. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’m just one of the boys for the next six months.’

  ‘Is that so?’

  She turned, unaware Rhys had snuck up behind her.

  ‘We’ll continue checking the packs,’ Cody mumbled, both men ambling away while pulling faces behind Rhys’s back.

  She tilted her head up, wishing he weren’t so darn tall. Hard to be forthright and intimidating when he towered over her.

  ‘I don’t want any special favours. I’m more than capable of doing my fair share and I want the guys to feel comfortable around me, not having to watch their p’s and q’s every second I’m around.’

  ‘Do you really think it’ll be that easy?’

  The speculative gleam in his eyes didn’t inspire confidence. In fact, she deflated quicker than a rubber dinghy punctured with a pine needle.

  She thrust her chin up, determined not to show him how much he rattled her.

  ‘Only one way to find out, isn’t there, boss? You’re stuck with me, for better or worse.’

  His mouth twitched at her sass. Definitely only one way to handle this guy: give as good as she got.

  ‘I prefer Rhys from you,’ he said, his voice low, intimate, sending a shiver skittering through her hyper-aware body.

  ‘Don’t like to think of me as an employee, huh?’

  His eyes darkened to indigo, the latent heat between them sparking in an instant as she instantly regretted her urge to bait him.

  Forgetting that almost-kiss was one thing, sparring with him another. For that was exactly what she was doing: fencing with him using words, parrying his quips, enjoying the comebacks.

  She’d always been a sucker for a quick brain. It had been one of the things that had attracted her to Julian in the first place. Pity the orthopaedic surgeon’s intelligence didn’t extend to common sense and common decency.

  ‘Honestly? I have no idea how to think of you.’

  With a shake of his head, he broke the spell binding them. ‘You’re confusing the hell out of me.’

  With a funny half-salute, he walked away, leaving her just as confused.

  After a forty-minute ride on the JetCat, one of the fastest passenger catamarans in North America, they were offloaded on a black, pebble-lined shore at Glacier Point.

  Jade turned a slow three hundred and sixty, absorbing the impact of the unspoilt beauty. Majestic, snow-capped mountains surrounded them, distant waterfalls glittering as they tumbled to meet the deep fjords below. Forest-green pines silhouetted sharply against a cloudless sky the colour of…Rhys’s amazing blue eyes.

  With a mental shake, she inhaled, savouring the pure air, the damp earthy smell a reminder of school camps in the Blue Mountains. The bulk of her classmates from the exclusive girls’ school she’d attended had preferred to sit in their cabins and give each other manicures while she’d snuck off, clutching her secret love of nature close, revelling in the untamed bush, the crisp mountain air, the bite of breaking dawn.

  Later, when her buddies at finishing school were jetting off to Monte Carlo and Cancun and Morocco for their holidays, she’d head for the nearest ski fields, eager to be near her beloved mountains again, keen to savour the invigorating splendour of snow.

  She glanced at Rhys, who’d barely spoken for the entire journey. He also appeared mesmerised, though a fleeting anguish crossed his face as he focused on the endless cerulean water.

  She hadn’t pushed him for information about who’d died on his last tour, hadn’t wanted to pry despite her burning curiosity, but seeing his visible reaction to this place piqued her interest.

  What made a guy like him tick?

  Was he best suited to his desk, wheeling and dealing as the company CEO, or was the laid-back park naturalist she’d glimpsed over drinks last night the real Rhys Cartwright?

  ‘Come on, guys, let’s get this show on the road. Time to load up and ship out.’ Rhys deliberately glanced her way. ‘That includes you too, Princess. From now on when I say guys, you’re included, just like you wanted.’

  ‘Fine by me.’

  She hadn’t called him on the Princess nickname yet. He wanted her to; she could see it in the blatant challenge in his eyes, exactly why she wouldn’t bite.

  The corners of his lips curved into a smug smile as he turned away, giving her prime view of dark denim moulding his butt and the cream cable-knit sweater hugging the muscular contours of his back.

  He was so hot, and she wondered for the hundredth time since she’d scored this job what had happened to her physically. She’d never been this turned on around Julian, even though she’d found the sex fun; when they’d had it. Julian had been tired, often, and she’d accepted it as part of being a doctor’s fiancée. Sadly, she’d discovered the true reason for his fatigue; shagging two women at once must be hell on a guy’s endurance.

  ‘Earth calling Jade. Did you hear me?’

  She wiped the scowl threatening to crease her face, her gaze wandering from his chest to his eyes.

  ‘Sorry, momentarily distracted by the awesome ruggedness of all of this.’

  She almost bit her tongue in frustration. That sounded so lame. Thinking about Julian had shattered her cool; though perving at Rhys had already ensured meltdown.

  He grinned. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘The compliment.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘I was talking about the scenery.’

  ‘Really?’

  His loaded stare told her he didn’t buy her excuse for a second and she flushed, grateful he’d turned away before she could wipe that cocky grin off his face.

  With what? Her witty comebacks?

  With a resigned huff, she picked up her backpack and shrugged into it.

  First the almost-kiss, now this. If he’
d had any doubts before he’d now know for certain she thought he was the hottest guy she’d seen in ages. Sheesh, she’d practically drooled watching him bend over.

  Rhys Cartwright had brains as well as brawn and she’d need to keep that in mind. Either that or search for the biggest lump of kryptonite she could find. Wasn’t that the only thing that would keep Superman at bay?

  ‘Okay, let’s go. Accommodation’s around the next bend.’

  Excitement fizzed through her veins like the finest champagne as she fell into step beside Rhys, content to absorb the beauty of her surroundings, the companionable silence a change from his flirting or her lame comebacks.

  Not that she minded the flirting. She just wished she knew how to handle it better. Was he doing it because she was the only female around or did he genuinely fancy her?

  As her foot caught on a tree root and she stumbled she knew she’d be better off focusing on her job than her boss.

  ‘You okay?’

  ‘Fine, just clumsy,’ she said, keeping her gaze fixed on the well-worn path through the bush, her attention captured by the staggering array of plant and flower species.

  ‘You’re really into this stuff.’

  She heard the surprise in his voice, risked a glance his way, the respect in his penetrating stare making her want to skip through the bush.

  ‘You think I want to head back to uni as a mature student for the fun of it?’

  He had the grace to look uncomfortable. ‘Not many people would be doing this.’

  ‘What? This?’

  She reached out, touched a delicate leaf with tenderness, fingering the softness, capturing a dew drop on her fingertip.

  ‘I love nature.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘But the closest I’ve come in a while is Taronga Zoo.’

  ‘Sheltered upbringing?’

  ‘Different world, more like it.’

  The dew drop dripped off her fingertip, disappeared into the forest floor cover and she swallowed, dismayed to discover talking about her past, even in general terms, was enough to bring a lump to her throat.

  ‘Well, being here is going to get you where you want to go so come on, let’s get you settled.’

  He hadn’t pushed her. On the contrary, he’d sensed her discomfort, and had diverted attention from it.

  She didn’t know what was worse: Rhys at his teasing best or this intuitive, kind Rhys. Both had the potential to undo her in a second.

  ‘Are we staying in cabins?’

  His earlier compassion faded, replaced by something she’d almost describe as fear. That couldn’t be right. Sure, he’d mentioned the death of someone on his last tour, but had it affected him to the extent he was scared of being back here?

  Somehow, she couldn’t see big, bold Rhys Cartwright afraid of anything.

  ‘We’re staying in the house.’

  ‘The house?’

  She didn’t have time to probe further as they rounded a bend and Rhys pointed dead ahead.

  ‘Home, sweet home.’

  Jade stopped dead, her mouth hanging open like some sideshow clown.

  ‘House? This place is…’

  She shook her head, blinked, and refocused on a pictureperfect advertisement taken straight from Discovery Channel’s Top Ten luxury homes around the world.

  ‘You like?’

  The catch of vulnerability underlying his tone surprised her as much as his expectant expression. He wanted her to like it, wanted her approval. For whatever reason, she couldn’t fathom why. Instead, she smiled.

  ‘It’s the most gorgeous house I’ve ever seen. And I use the term house loosely.’

  Instantly entranced by the sandstone mansion silhouetted against the snow-capped mountains, she marvelled at its architecture: the different levels, the various wings appearing to spread across the hillside, blending into the landscape perfectly, at one with nature.

  The mansion sprawled across half an acre, its large glass windows reflecting the morning sun, giving it a welcome appeal rather than looking like a mausoleum as so many mansions she’d visited in the past could appear.

  ‘I built it.’

  Her eyebrows shot up as she glanced at the man who never stopped surprising her.

  He smiled. ‘Not literally. I had a major hand in the design, wanted it to fit into the landscape and not detract from all this.’

  He threw his arms wide, encompassing their surroundings, his spontaneous gesture and concern for the environment attracting her as much as the rest of him.

  ‘It’s gorgeous.’

  ‘Sure is.’

  He stared directly at her in a blatant declaration he wasn’t just talking about the scenery. His burning gaze travelled the length of her body, a slow, leisurely perusal that left her breathless as she imagined his fingertips following the same path, setting her whole body alight.

  She dragged in a breath, finding the simple process of breathing difficult. The slight movement of parting her lips drew his eyes like magnets as he stared at her glossed lips for what seemed like an eternity, flicking the tip of his tongue out to moisten his own.

  And at that very moment she’d never wanted to kiss a man as much.

  She could blame the fresh air; maybe her brain only functioned on city pollution, not purity. But she’d be lying, and if there was one thing she’d learned from the fiasco with her parents and Julian, it was never to lie. To anybody, particularly herself.

  ‘Time to get settled,’ she murmured, reluctant to break the tenuous link binding them yet wanting to snap it faster than she could say ‘iceberg’.

  He nodded, the sensual cocoon just for two evaporating in an instant.

  ‘You take the east wing, the boys are in the west.’

  ‘And I suppose you’ll have the run of the place, being the lord of the manor.’

  She’d meant it as a joke. By the lack of laugh lines and his rigid posture, he found it far from funny.

  ‘If you follow the path to your right, you’ll find a side door. Should be open. The couple who housekeep when its empty expected us. Give a holler on the intercom if you need anything.’

  Brisk, businesslike instructions, at complete odds with his loaded stare a few moments ago. She juggled her backpack into position, eager to get inside and out of the cold. Literally.

  ‘Thanks, I’ll be right there.’

  With a brief nod, he headed for the main entrance, leaving her to ponder exactly how complex her boss was—and whether she could be bothered trying to understand more.

  Chapter Seven

  THE moment Rhys stepped through the front door his chest tightened, as if a giant grizzly had him in a bear hug and were squeezing the life out of him.

  He couldn’t breathe, the tightness expanding until he forced oxygen into his lungs by inhaling great gulps of air.

  The place looked the same, as warm and cosy and inviting as the day he’d left.

  He loved it, from the pale ash polished boards, soaring ceilings, cream walls and windows overlooking Glacier Point and beyond, to the steel-rimmed open fireplace, modular light fittings and thick Persian rugs.

  It was his dream home. He’d never had a home growing up. Sure, he’d lived in the same house as his brothers and parents, but there’d been nothing homely about that scenario. His parents ignored him, Callum was too busy rebelling in a futile effort to capture their attention and Archie…well, Archie had been the only Cartwright to acknowledge he existed.

  He’d idolised his eldest brother, had tried to emulate him: good grades, captain of the cricket team, lead cellist in the school orchestra.

  Then Archie had died, a senseless waste of life, and his world had been tipped on its head.

  Callum, riddled by misplaced guilt he’d caused Archie’s death—after a late night call to pick him up from the local jail when a bunch of drunk kids had been taken in for yahoo-ing and Archie had been killed in a car crash on the way there—had stepped into Archie’s big shoes, entering the family fin
ancial business at nineteen.

  While his big brother had dealt with his grief by throwing himself into business, Rhys had coped the only way he knew how. By running away. And he hadn’t stopped running since.

  He didn’t do commitment well. Getting attached to anyone or anything just wasn’t worth the effort. He could’ve blamed his quest for freedom on his narcissistic parents or lack of desire for attachment on Archie’s death, but it was more than that.

  The only time he felt truly alive was when he was free. Free of entanglements, free of emotions, free of energy-sapping ties.

  Swiping a weary hand across his face, he reopened his eyes, confronted by the beauty of the house, sucker-punched again.

  When he’d originally built the house, he knew what he’d been doing. Trying something new, testing to see if he could emotionally invest in something, to see if he cared about something enough he could stay if he wanted to.

  His experiment had failed spectacularly.

  He’d lived here for two years until the urge had crept upon him again: the urge to cut ties, the urge to cut loose, the urge to move on to the next challenge.

  And he’d done it. Walked away from this place without a backward glance and hadn’t been back since.

  Claudia’s death precipitated his prolonged absence but in reality if his guilt over her death hadn’t sent him running, this place and all it stood for—family, kids, roots, a place to call home, a resting place where he could finally find peace—would’ve eventually done the trick.

  For that split second when he’d seen Jade’s wondrous expression and her admiration for his dream, all the old yearnings had come flooding back in an unbearable wave. Worse, he’d pictured her standing right there next to him. Impossible, what with her life plan, even if he was stupid enough to contemplate getting emotionally involved for more than a second.

  He didn’t want to like her so much. But there was no denying the woman he’d pegged as a rich society princess slumming it for a while was a trouper.

  She’d put up with his boorish behaviour this morning because he’d almost kissed her, she’d been nothing but enthusiastic and happy and eager to learn on the JetCat over here.