Undressed by the Boss (Mills & Boon By Request) (38 page)

But that was not what this meeting was all about. Oh no, far from it.

He had to convince her to take a chance on him, on them. She had an adventurous streak a mile wide and all he had to do was persuade her to indulge it, and him, by travelling with him. It wouldn’t be easy, but he had to give it one last try.

Rounding the corner, his confident steps faltered as he caught sight of her, looking small, fragile, lonely, sitting on a stone bench near the runes.

He’d chosen this place deliberately, wondering if she’d remember how they’d connected during his first history lesson with her, how she’d shared some of his enthusiasm, albeit reluctantly.

He hadn’t forgotten.

He’d merely lost sight of what was staring him right in the face due to his own insecurities. Ironically, it had taken his dad’s apology to get him thinking. If a stubborn old coot like Abe could change, maybe it was time he let go of his residual bitterness over the Fenella fiasco and took a chance again?

Comparing Beth to Fenella had been wrong, he knew that now. They were nothing alike. Fenella had been cold, calculating, her warm façade exactly that, a façade. She’d used him, had only wanted him as a way to gain exclusives on the latest finds, an instant boost up the career ladder, the only thing she truly loved.

She hadn’t given a toss about him, had been secretly screwing her old boyfriend behind his back the entire time he’d been trying to make a go of their relationship in London, putting his own career on hold for her.

And he’d been stupid enough to compare Beth to her?

The Beth he loved was warm, spontaneous, fun. He’d never met anyone so quirky, so full of life, so ready to put themselves out there despite the risk. She’d done that from the first moment she’d laid her attraction out for him, making it clear in no uncertain terms how she felt about him.

Out of nowhere, it hit him and he stopped dead, backtracking
his thoughts to something from a few moments ago … something about the Beth he loved …
loved?

Hell, it was as simple as that.

All his back-pedalling, all his self-talk that he couldn’t rely on anyone, all the baloney he’d been feeding himself about being better off depending on his job rather than people had been a crock.

He loved her and when you loved someone you worked on a compromise, a way to make the relationship thrive.

She didn’t want to travel; he wanted her to travel with him. Which meant one of them would have to change their minds or else …

Compromise! The perfect solution came to him in a flash and he wanted to punch the air. But would she believe him after what he’d already said to her? Would she give him another chance?

As she raised her head, her wary gaze locking on his, he knew words wouldn’t be enough any more.

It was time for action and, luckily, he knew just what he had to do.

Beth checked the address on the fancy cream cardboard card, looked up at the swank city gallery and back at the card.

The invitation couldn’t have come at a better time, considering she’d had the weirdest meeting with Aidan yesterday where he’d praised her work, talked around in circles about job opportunities for enthusiastic employees like her, before mumbling something about a prior engagement and rushing out.

It had been bizarre to say the least, especially when she’d been expecting a proper farewell. Or
a
farewell at least.

She’d heard he was leaving today but hadn’t had time to find him, didn’t want to find him in reality, unable to face
saying goodbye without breaking down, throwing the last of her pride to the wind and begging him to stay.

At least she had this, and as her gaze strayed to the invitation and back to the trendy gallery in front of her she wondered if her head had been so filled with Aidan’s impending departure that she’d made a mistake.

This couldn’t be the right place.

She’d been invited to check out a possible home for her next collection. Considering it would take at least six months for the lease to come through on her own space, she’d been interested. The weird thing was it looked like this gallery wasn’t only thinking of hosting her next collection as everything she’d recently made had already taken pride of place here.

The front windows were filled with twisted metal shrubs, flowers and garden gnomes, her interpretation of the Melbourne Flower and Garden Show, some of her best work.

Cupping her hands against the glass, she pressed her face between them, so shocked she stumbled back.

It wasn’t just the front windows housing her work. The whole damn gallery was filled with it, the metal pieces at odds with a heap of old masks and pottery pieces and ceramics. Not to mention her Sydney Opera House taking pride of place on a raised dais in the middle of the room.

‘What the …?’

She trailed off as she stepped inside the gallery, her mouth dropping open as Aidan stepped out from behind the glass and chrome counter, looking more relaxed than she’d ever seen him.

‘What are you doing here?’

He didn’t respond immediately, his charismatic smile sending her belly into a free fall she had no hope of recovering from.

It had always been like this, from the first minute she’d met
him, and despite everything that had happened between them it looked as if her reaction to the sexy archaeologist hadn’t waned at all.

‘Well? What’s this all about?’

He shrugged, his shoulders looking impossibly broad in black cashmere as he came around from behind the counter to stand in front of her.

‘This is our place.’

‘Our place?’

She shook her head, feeling as if she’d stepped into a time warp or some weird alternative universe where everyone knew what was going on but her.

‘I want a place to showcase our work so I’ve leased this space, bought the unsold pieces from your last collection, trumped the top bidder for the fund-raiser piece and added some of my own stuff. I’m confident we can keep the place stocked with your work and my new finds.’

‘Ri-i-ight …’ She did a slow three-sixty in the middle of the gallery, her confusion intensifying. ‘You know none of this makes any sense? I can understand you leasing this place for your stuff, but what’s it got to do with me? And why have you spent a small fortune on my work?’

He reached out and tipped her chin up, his smile patient. ‘Because it’s worth it. You’re worth it.’

Brushing away his hand—she couldn’t think with the havoc his touch wrought on her body—she took a step back before she swayed towards him. ‘Obviously not worth enough. I hear you’re still leaving.’

‘You’re wrong. I can’t put a price on what you’re worth.’

She took another step back at the intent in his eyes: way too confident, way too intense, way too focussed—on her.

‘So what are you trying to say? That you’re sticking around here to run this place?’

Her heart leaped at the thought before his serious expression plummeted it back down to earth and trampled all over it. Of course he wasn’t sticking around. Then what was this gallery in aid of?

‘You know I can’t stay in Melbourne permanently.’

‘Wow, tell me something I don’t know.’ Her sarcasm fell on deaf ears as the sexy smile she’d grown to love dazzled her as usual.

‘I have to get back to doing what I love, but I thought it would be nice to have a base here, somewhere I could come back to for a few months out of the year?’

Just like that, his motives for leasing this place became crystal-clear.

He expected her to be waiting around for him whenever he decided to drop into town, all dewy-eyed and super-excited the hotshot archaeologist deigned to pay her some attention for part of a year.

Damn him, he was just like her father and she couldn’t stand another minute of this.

She clenched her hands to stop from reaching out, grabbing his shirt and shaking him silly. How could he think so little of her? How could he cheapen what they’d shared?

Thrusting her chin up, she tossed her hair over her shoulder in an ‘I don’t give a damn’ gesture. But she did. And, worse, a small, deluded part of her still hoped that by some miracle he’d ditch his travel plans for her.

‘So what do you want me to say? I’m happy for you?’

Stepping into her personal space, he ran a hand lightly up her arm. ‘I want you to ask me what this has to do with you.’

‘No.’

She bit down on her bottom lip to keep from crying out as his hand slipped into hers, his thumb slowly caressing her palm in small circles.

‘Fine, I’ll tell you anyway. You said you wouldn’t travel? Well, this is a compromise.’

‘You think by mingling the stuff we do for a living I’ll change my mind?’

She shook her head, hating how impressed she was by the effort he’d gone to, how tempted she was to renege on her previous stance and follow him to the ends of the earth to be with him.

But she couldn’t.

She didn’t want a nomadic life again; she didn’t want the scraps of affection he’d throw her way at the end of a busy day. She wanted a man who loved her to put her needs first, to put her first, and that man wasn’t Aidan. He’d already made it clear his first love was archaeology and how could she compete with that?

‘This place doesn’t change a thing.’

His cool expression faltered for the first time since she’d arrived, the scar above his right eye twitching ever so slightly.

‘You’re scared.’

‘Of what?’

She forced a laugh and wrenched her hand out of his, needing space before she leaned into him and wiped the worried look off his face with a kiss she so desperately wanted to deliver.

‘Of seeing whether this could work. Of how damn good we could be together if we both try.’

Every tiny arrow of truth he shot at her found its mark,
embedding in her heart and rendering her speechless with the pain of it.

Balling her hands, she tugged her bag in front of her, knowing it would prove useless as a shield if he touched her again.

‘This is irrelevant. You’re going away and I’m not the sit-at-home-and-knit type while I wait for you to drop in whenever you’re in the neighbourhood.’

‘Ah … but you wouldn’t have to wait at home for me.’

Thrusting a hand into his back pocket, he handed her a slimline black folder.

‘Here. This should clear up a few more of your preconceptions.’

Flipping open the folder, she stared at the airline ticket, destination Rio de Janeiro, more confused than ever when she spied her name in the ‘passenger’ box.

Her gaze flew to his, annoyed by his calm demeanour, hating the crazy, out-of-control feeling swamping her. ‘I’ve already said no to travel with you. What’s this supposed to mean?’

‘We’re alike, you and me. We’re adventurers. We like to live each day as it comes. We’re spontaneous. I understand you don’t want to spend your life on the road, you’ve already been there, done that, but this would be different. We’d be together. We could see how things go.’

Her stunned gaze dropped to the ticket in her hand, the fine print blurring as she blinked back tears of frustration.

See how things go …
She didn’t need to see, she knew how things would go. She’d soon tire of the travel, she’d start taking it out on him, blaming him for not putting her needs first and they’d end up hating each other.

If her heart was breaking now, it would be nothing on the
pain of spending more time with him, falling deeper only to find she’d lose him in the end.

She couldn’t do that; she wouldn’t.

‘Here’s the proof of how much I want this to work, Beth. I want you to travel with me to South America. I want you to give us a chance. I want a relationship with you. Quite simply, I want it all.’

Before she could move he captured her face between his hands and crushed his mouth to hers, the kiss a startling combination of heat, passion and desperation, a soul-drugging kiss designed to bewitch, bother and bewilder.

And she was definitely all three, her mind shutting down the instant he deepened the kiss, his tongue eagerly searching out hers, his lips softening, his hands leaving her face to slide down her torso and cup her butt, drawing her firmly against him.

She knew this would have to stop, would have to be the last kiss they ever shared, so she gave herself into the bliss of the moment, taking as well as giving, savouring every sigh, every caress, imprinting it on her brain to be resurrected at will.

‘Say yes,’ he whispered, his thumbs brushing the corners of her mouth, his incredible slate eyes beseeching her to agree.

For one heart-rending, hope-filled moment, Beth wanted to throw caution to the wind and say yes.

She wanted to fling every reservation she had out the window and go for it.

But she couldn’t, for while her heart was screaming ‘yes, yes, yes’ her head resurrected memories of being dragged from town to town, putting up with the empty, hollow life for love of a man.

She’d loved her dad and in his own selfish way he’d loved her too, but her needs had always come last and she wouldn’t let history repeat itself.

‘I can’t.’

She turned away, dashing a hand across her eyes, simultaneously dashing any faint hope for both of them.

Aidan didn’t reach out to her again.

He didn’t move, didn’t speak, and she finally raised her eyes to meet his, his pain quickly masked by a puzzling per-ceptiveness.

‘I’m sorry. You summed it up when you said you wanted it all. And this way, you’d have it.’

She lifted her hands in a helpless gesture before letting them fall uselessly to her sides, trying not to take great gulps of air to fill her oxygen-deprived lungs, to ease their seizing, to ease the pain squeezing her heart in a vice.

‘We could both have it all.’

He reached out to her, but she shook her head and turned away, unable to look at him a moment longer.

‘My idea of having it all is staying in one place long enough to build a home, a family. I want my kids to live in a rambling old house with an attic housing their mother’s crazy metal sculptures, a tyre on a rope in the back yard and a sprawling oak tree where we could have spur-of-the-moment teddy-bear picnics. I want them to stay in the one grade long enough to make friends. I want them to know that when they ride their bikes home from school there won’t be a ‘for rent’ sign tacked on the front gate. That’s what I want.’