Undressed by the Boss (Mills & Boon By Request) (36 page)

‘You know what I’m talking about.’

She slid off the bar stool and headed towards the door,
needing some distance between them to deliver her walkout speech.

She had to do this, had to push him away before he broke her heart completely. Not that it wasn’t shattered already.

But she needed to keep her job, had to make him believe ending this was her choice for any reason other than the real one: she’d fallen for him and wanted him to stay.

‘This little fling we have going on is getting a bit serious.’

Realisation dawned in his eyes as bewilderment gave way to concern. ‘But we haven’t discussed a relationship.’

‘Yet.’

Shaking his head, he braced against the bench-top with his arms, her traitorous body giving a lurch at the way his pecs stood out, the same way they had when he’d been propped over her last night, satisfying her every desire.

‘Okay, so you’re right. I do want to talk about us, about where this is going, perhaps the possibility of dating while I’m here. In fact, I wanted to do it last night but we got sidetracked.’

His eyes darkened to stormy at the memory of what they’d shared, of how amazing it had been, and she blinked, needing to dispel the intimate spell that had descended on them the minute he’d mentioned last night.

Ignoring the intense regret stabbing her conscience, she squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye.

‘But that’s just it. We’re not going anywhere. At least, I’m not.’

The tiny scar above his right eye twitched as realisation widened his pupils.

‘So that’s what this is about. You think I’m about to leave?’

‘Well, aren’t you?’

His jaw clenched, his biceps bulging as he gripped the
bench-top tighter. ‘I don’t know how long I’m staying in Melbourne but you’re right, it won’t be for longer than a few months. But I thought you knew that and were still happy to start things up? Remember, you were the one who pushed this thing between us.’

‘So I was.’

Determined to put an end to this before the sting behind her eyes fast turned into a waterfall, she shrugged as if she didn’t give a damn.

‘Look, I don’t want to get all heavy on you, but I think we should stick to work for however long you’re staying around.’

He pushed off the bench-top and crossed the kitchen in two seconds flat to take hold of her upper arms, his touch wreaking as much havoc as his words.

‘What’s changed? I don’t get this sudden turnaround.’

Beth couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe with his hands touching her, even in such an innocuous way. Her skin prickled beneath his hands, wanting more, needing more, and she struggled to break free only to have him hold on tighter.

‘You’re not walking out of here until we settle this,’ he said, his grim expression at odds with the hurt in his eyes.

Swallowing the emotion lodged firmly in her throat, she knew there was only one way to end this. She had to hurt him badly enough for him to let her go.

‘Fine. You want to settle this?’

She tilted her chin up, her heart sinking at the flicker of hope that flashed across his face.

‘I want something from you I know you can’t give so that’s why I’m finishing this now, before we get in any deeper.’

‘What’s that?’

She wriggled in his arms, hating it had come to this, hating
the wariness in his eyes but most of all hating herself for being foolish enough in ignoring every inbuilt self-preservation mechanism that could’ve stopped her from falling for a guy like him.

‘Do you really want to know?’

She thrust her chin up, challenging him to push this, to take it all the way, for the truth would drive him away once and for all.

‘Yeah, I do.’

With a toss of her head, she swallowed the huge lump of emotion lodged in her throat and went for broke.

‘I want this to be more than a fling. I want you to stick around. And I know that’s not going to happen because you can’t wait to get out of the museum. I see the way you drag your ass in there every morning. I see your boredom every time you have to resolve small management problems. You’re counting down the days till you’re back on some site around the world and I don’t blame you. You love your job. I just wish your eyes lit up for me the same way they do when you check out some of those old exhibits.’

His hands loosened their grip and she took the opportunity to slip out of his grasp, her heart breaking as guilt warred with realisation in his incredible grey eyes.

Swiping a hand across his eyes as if to obliterate the truth she glimpsed there, he shook his head. ‘Archaeology is my life. I can’t give it up.’

‘You mean you won’t give it up.’

She didn’t have to add ‘for me’. The unsaid words hung in the growing silence, waiting to be acknowledged. As if that would ever happen.

‘I tried it once before. It didn’t work out.’

A tiny spark of hope flared in Beth’s helplessness, encouraging her to give it one last shot.

‘You did? Maybe the place you stayed wasn’t for you. Maybe—’

‘There was a woman. Fenella,’ he said, driving another stake through her heart, putting a name to a faceless female she instantly hated for having the power to make him stick around when she obviously didn’t. ‘She was an art critic. She accompanied me on a dig once and hated it so we lived together in London for a year …’

He trailed off and some strange masochistic urge prompted her to discover the rest. ‘And?’

‘And I can’t do it again.’

‘Just like that?’

He dropped his gaze to stare at the floor and she knew in an instant he hadn’t told her the whole story.

‘Just like that,’ he said, a hint of steel underlying his grim pronouncement, the tiny scar near his eyebrow giving an infinitesimal flicker as he frowned.

‘Well, I guess we want different things, then, don’t we?’

She had no intention of waiting around for his answer, but as she swivelled towards the door he made a strange, almost strangled sound that had her turning back.

‘Beth, we could’ve dated while I’m here. We could’ve seen where this could lead.’

‘Oh, I already know. You’re the one who doesn’t want to take the risk.’

She forced her feet to move, determined to ignore the pain in her chest, the deep-seated ache that she’d tried her best and her best wasn’t good enough, the soul-deep certainty that she’d just lost the best thing to ever to happen to her.

* * *

Aidan did what he’d always done when he needed to blow off steam: he dug.

Grabbing an old shovel of his dad’s, he headed out into the backyard and stabbed at the soil in the overgrown veggie patch, enjoying the bite of steel in his instep as he pushed down on the shovel, relishing the twinge in his back as he hoisted a monstrous clump of dirt and flung it as far as he could.

He repeated the action over and over, the mindless repetition soothing as always. With every clump he overturned, his tension dissipated till he leaned forward on the shovel and wiped his brow, sweat pouring off him, feeling lighter than he had in months.

He should’ve been angry.

Hell, he should’ve been downright fuming after what Beth had said, pushing him for a commitment he couldn’t give, taking their relationship from casual to serious in the blink of an eye.

He didn’t like being pushed.

Fenella had pushed … and pushed … and pushed, until she’d pushed so hard he’d had no option but to leave.

She’d hated his job, hated the month they’d spent in Greece, hated everything about it: the dust, the heat, the dirt under his fingernails at the end of another glorious day when he’d discovered a priceless piece of history.

She’d pushed him to make a choice, her or his digs, and he’d chosen her out of love. Or so he’d thought. It wasn’t till later, much later, that he’d learned the truth and it sickened him to this day.

He couldn’t rely on anyone. Not his parents, not the woman he’d made a mistake of falling for back then. He’d learned the hard way his job was the only dependable thing in his life.

Shaking his head, he drove the shovel harder into the dirt,
obliterating his memories of a time he’d rather forget, wishing he could forget more recent ones of Beth and the special time they’d spent together just as easily.

Instead, with the sun beating down on him and his muscles aching as they hadn’t in ages, all he could think about was how damn good they’d been together.

He hadn’t been truly happy since he’d taken over as CEO at the museum and he missed the hands-on digging and discovery work more than he’d thought possible. But for a while having her in his life had made him forget the daily drudgery of acting CEO. She’d brought a welcome spark to his life and now that she’d ended it …

What was he doing sticking around? Going through the motions in another futile attempt at getting his dad’s approval? He should know better by now.

Time to move on.

There was nothing left for him here any more.

Swiping his hands down the sides of his jeans, he fished in his pocket for his mobile, almost dropping the thing when it rang.

‘Aidan Voss speaking.’

‘Aidan, it’s Dorothy MacPherson here, from the museum.’

Surprised a volunteer would be calling him, he stabbed the shovel into the dirt and propped a foot on it. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘I’ve got a bit of a problem. A transport company in the Northern Territory just rang, requesting up-front payment before they deliver those Aboriginal artefacts from some caves in Kakadu. And there’s no one here to authorise it so I don’t know what to do. They sounded pretty uptight and said it was urgent so—’

‘Have they faxed through an invoice?’

Dorothy paused before clearing her throat with a nervous little cough. ‘Um, yeah, but I think the amount is wrong. It’s exorbitant.’

See, this was why he couldn’t wait to throw in his CEO job. Beth had been right; he faced piddling problems on a daily basis when he’d rather be out in the scorching outback sun, caving in Kakadu himself.

Shutting his eyes, he visualised what it would be like.

He could almost taste the dry dust clogging his throat as it swirled in an ochre cloud as he bounced down a remote track in a four-wheel drive laden with his favourite tools.

He could almost see the mysterious caves, stark against a cloudless blue sky, beckoning a curious archaeologist to discover its hidden treasures.

He could almost feel the rough, craggy walls, the dirt trickling through his fingers, the bluster of hot wind at his back as he moved deeper into the caves.

‘Mr Voss?’

His eyes snapped open and as he took in his surroundings, a postcard-size, derelict backyard in suburban Melbourne, disappointment roiled in his gut, thick and heavy.

He gripped the handle of the shovel tightly, tiny splinters of wood driving into the newly formed calluses on his palm, yet he barely registered the sting. It had nothing on the disillusionment exploding through him, the agony of finally waking up and facing the truth.

He couldn’t do this any more.

He’d wanted to help Abe out, wanted to show him what sort of a job he could do, but this was crazy. He wasn’t happy in the job, he wasn’t happy in his personal life now he’d lost Beth.

There was nothing here for him now.

Propping on the shovel, he gripped his mobile to his ear with his other hand. ‘Don’t worry about the invoice, Dorothy. I’ll come in and take care of it. And thanks for contacting me. You did the right thing.’

‘Okay, Mr Voss. Bye.’

Snapping his phone shut, he thrust it into his pocket, picked up the shovel and moved over to the empty flower beds. He had a lot of digging to do to ease the driving urge to head to the airport this instant when he couldn’t, not till he’d sorted out a replacement at the museum.

At least he now knew what he had to do.

And when it was done, he’d be on the first plane out of here.

Beth trudged into the museum, her feet dragging.

She was
so
over this.

The sooner Lana threw away her crutches and took over the tours, the better. She’d much prefer hiding away in some storage room cataloguing items, away from prying eyes. In the meantime, she would suck it up, act like a big girl and try not to cringe over the stuff she’d said to Aidan.

Try as she might she couldn’t get his guarded expression out of her head when she’d told him she wanted more from him than he was willing to give. It had been like watching shutters spring up, effectively locking her out and wiping away what they’d shared in a second.

Then he’d had to go and rub her nose in it by suggesting they date for the short time he was here, expecting her to roll over and play nice before wishing him bon voyage.

She might have been mad enough to fall for him knowing the type of guy he was, but she wasn’t completely insane. If
she felt like this now, imagine how much harder, deeper, she’d fall if they spent more time together.

Uh-uh, she couldn’t do it. Her live-life-for-the-moment motto had taken a severe beating, one from which she’d have a hard time recovering.

She had to go cold turkey to get over him, for, like the finest Brunetti chocolate, one taste had her addicted for life.

‘Hey, Beth, wait up.’

Sighing, she fixed her usual ‘all’s right with the world’ smile on her face, something she’d been doing her entire life, and turned to Dorothy.

‘Hi, Dot …’ The rest of her greeting died on her lips as she took in the young woman’s new shaggy haircut with highlights falling around her face in soft waves, coloured contact lenses, figure-enhancing bottle-green skirt suit and snappy black patent ballet flats.

‘Some transformation, huh?’

‘You look fantastic.’

‘All thanks to you.’ Dorothy did a little pirouette, her confident smile growing by the minute. ‘You may not know a lot about the museum but you sure know fashion.’

‘You know I’m not really qualified to take tours, don’t you?’

Dorothy shrugged. ‘All I know is I’m surprised you got the job here when you seem a bit out of the loop.’

She laughed at Dorothy’s diplomacy. ‘You mean I stink, don’t you?’

‘Well, when you put it that way …’ Dorothy joined in her laughter and she beckoned her over to a secluded spot near the entrance.