Seduced By The Boss. Kate Hardy

Seduced By The Boss - Kate Hardy


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weren’t batting his corner. They thought he ought to give in and join them in the family business.

      She shrugged. ‘So. Realistically, what’s the best you can hope for?’

      ‘That an outrageous girlfriend will distract them enough to stop them nagging me about when I’m going to settle down. Just for the weekend,’ he added, wanting to make it clear that this wasn’t a long-term thing.

      ‘Weekend? I thought you said it was a party?’

      ‘It’s a weekend thing,’ he explained.

      She looked shocked. ‘You’re telling me that this engagement party is going to last for a whole weekend? Wow. I thought that my friends and I could party pretty hard, but we’re all amateurs compared to that!’

      ‘It’s not that big a deal,’ he said. ‘We turn up for afternoon tea and cake on Saturday with the older relatives, and then we have a cocktail party in the evening. It’s black tie, by the way.’

      She looked thoughtful. ‘So you want me to wear an unsuitable dress to the tea party bit, and something even more outrageous for the evening do rather than a proper little black dress.’

      Oh, good. She understood and she wasn’t going to give him a hard time about it. ‘That would do very nicely.’

      ‘And then what?’

      ‘Um, we stay overnight—but you’ll have your own room, don’t worry. I’m not expecting you to share with me or anything,’ he added swiftly. ‘We’ll have breakfast in the morning, go for a walk, stay for Sunday lunch because Ma will insist—except that’ll be just my brothers and their partners and us, plus maybe an aunt and uncle or two—and then we can go home.’

      ‘A whole weekend,’ she repeated.

      ‘The food will be excellent,’ he said. ‘And there will be pink champagne.’ And then a nasty thought hit him. ‘Unless last weekend put you off champagne?’

      She rolled her eyes at him. ‘That’s mean. I already told you, my sister doesn’t normally drink more than one glass. Last weekend was exceptional circumstances.’

      ‘I apologise. Again.’

      ‘Apology accepted, but I have a three strikes and you’re out rule,’ she warned. ‘Do it again and I’ll stand on your foot. In spike heels. I might be only five feet four, but I’m heavier than I look.’

      ‘Got it.’ The more time Hugh spent with Bella, the more he liked her. She made him feel different—she brought back the crazy, spontaneous part of him that he’d kept locked away since Jessie. Which was dangerous. Maybe he should call this whole thing off. For safety’s sake.

      ‘So what colour do you want my hair to be?’ she said, cutting into his thoughts.

      ‘Any colour you like. It’s your hair.’

      She smiled. ‘Good answer. You’re learning.’

      ‘I’ll pay for your frocks,’ he said, ‘and your shoes, and whatever else you want. Just tell me how much you need.’

      ‘It’s very tempting to say yes and drag you off to the fashion department in Selfridges with your credit card,’ she said, ‘but I guess it’d be more believable if I wore a charity shop find.’ She paused. ‘Or am I playing a gold-digger who expects you to bankroll her fashion habit?’

      ‘I don’t think you’d be a believable gold digger, because you’re too independent,’ he said. Again, so unlike Jessie, who’d always had an eye on the main chance. Except he’d been so in love with her that he hadn’t seen it at the time. With Bella, what you saw was what you got—and that was refreshing. It tempted him to relax the rules where she was concerned. Part of him thought this was a bad idea; but part of him was intrigued enough to want to know where this could take them. ‘A charity shop find would be good, but I meant it about paying for your clothes and what have you. Just get anything you need and I’ll pick up the bill. You shouldn’t be out of pocket when you’re doing me a favour.’

      ‘OK. I’ll make sure I get receipts for everything. So I need outfits for a tea party, a cocktail party, breakfast, a walk and lunch.’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘I hope your car has room for a lot of luggage.’

      ‘The brasher the better—and add that to your shopping list,’ he said with a grin. ‘And thank you. I think I’m actually going to enjoy this now.’

      ‘Is it really going to be so bad, spending time with your family?’ she asked.

      And now she’d wrong-footed him again. He wrinkled his nose. ‘I love them, but they don’t see me for who I am. They don’t listen to me. They want me to fit in their nice little box. That’s the thing I find hardest to deal with.’

      ‘So my job is to be their wake-up call. To make them see that by pushing you so hard, they’re actually making you run just as hard in the other direction. Whereas, if they leave you be, you might just come up with a compromise that will keep you all happy.’

      ‘I’m beginning to think that you should swap places with me and be head of strategy at Insurgo,’ he said.

      ‘Hardly.’ She scoffed. ‘I was working on design principles.’

      ‘They work for strategy, too.’ He paused. ‘Thank you. I think I’m in your debt.’

      ‘Strictly speaking,’ she said, ‘and, as you pointed out, I was in yours—you rescued Grace and me when we needed help. This is my chance to return the favour. And then we’re quits—right?’

      ‘Quits,’ he agreed. ‘That sounds good to me.’ He reached over to shake her hand, then rather wished he hadn’t when his palm started tingling. He really shouldn’t start thinking about Bella in that way. He’d learned from Jessie that business and love didn’t mix, and he didn’t want to repeat his mistake. He was attracted to Bella—she was gorgeous and vibrant and she would make any man look more than twice—but he really shouldn’t take this any further. They were going to keep this strictly professional. ‘I’ll let you get back to whatever you were working on,’ he said. ‘And thank you.’

      ‘Last thing,’ she said. ‘What about an engagement present?’

      ‘It’s all taken care of. And the card.’

      ‘How much do I owe—?’ she began.

      ‘It’s all taken care of,’ he repeated, cutting in. ‘Really. I don’t expect you to pay a penny towards this.’

      ‘Can I at least take your mother some flowers, as we’re staying at your parents’ place?’

      He frowned. ‘That’s very suitable behaviour, Bella.’

      ‘Actually, it’s common courtesy to take a present for your hostess,’ she corrected. ‘I don’t mind people thinking I’m an airhead and unsuitable, but I do mind them thinking I’m rude and selfish. So. Flowers or chocolates?’

      ‘She’s a chocolate fiend. Dark. But you don’t have to—’

      ‘Yes, I do,’ she cut in. ‘Or the deal’s off.’

      And hadn’t he asked her to help him partly because she was so outspoken and independent? ‘OK,’ he said.

      ‘Good. And now I’m going back to what you pay me to do,’ she said, and sashayed out of the room. As much as you could sashay in jeans and flat canvas shoes.

      But the images in his head wouldn’t shift all day. The curve of her backside. The confident, brisk way she moved. That spark of merriment in her blue, blue eyes. The curve of her mouth.

      How would her mouth feel against his? Would she make his lips tingle as much as his skin? And how would it feel to lose himself inside her?

      There suddenly wasn’t enough air in the room. He walked over to the window, opened it and shoved his head


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