Three Blind-Date Brides. Fiona Harper

fine, there was that. But she still didn’t have to like it or feel comfortable. Rick did know her secret.

      Perhaps he hadn’t acted inappropriately, and he had seemed to truly regret the outcome. And she knew one of his secrets. That he wanted to make love to her, had desired her from Day One.

      That knowledge did not thrill or tempt her. She couldn’t let it!

      Her initial IM sessions with Dani and Grace hadn’t been the result of a desperate buzzing, either. More of a, Hello, if you’re there a talk might be nice but no problem if you’re not kind of buzzing. An, I don’t need help or anything. Just felt like chatting sort of buzzing.

      They were all friends. Grace had already confessed that she was concerned about her daughter Daisy going off on her gap year backpacking around Europe and Dani had admitted she had financial pressures and was worried about paying off her student loans from college and graduate school.

      Marissa had owed it to them to contribute her share to the confidence stakes, and so she had admitted that she might be having a teensy tiny issue with awareness of her boss. Nothing dramatic. Certainly nothing to worry about. She could put it to rights.

      Grace had been the voice of reason, had encouraged Marissa not to blame Rick too much for his accidental knowledge of her past. Dani had been a little silent on the subject, but certainly sympathetic. They’d swapped mailing addresses and phone numbers after their chats, and Marissa had visited the early opening post shop this morning and sent them both some gifts.

      Chocolate. Australian chocolate, to be exact, because chocolate lifted your spirits and gave you confidence.

      Because her friends might enjoy it, and Marissa did not need courage to face Rick again, even if she had eaten a chocolate bar this morning while mailing the others. All in all, she was dealing very well with her life right now.

      She hadn’t even thought about that knitting idea for the past couple of days. Not really. Other than to look at the wool, wondering about the exact blend of lemon and pink and blue of the variegated strands …

      Marissa shoved open the door to the office suite.

      ‘Good morning, Rick.’ She spoke his name in a firm, even, totally in control and not at all kissed senseless or embarrassed or overwrought tone as she crossed the office space at a fast clip.

      Stride in. Purposefully get to work. Keep it impersonal and he would soon see she was not at all carrying any scars from the past.

       No? So why did you let that past dictate the kind of man you want in your future?

      Because she’d learned from her mistake!

      ‘Thank you, Collins. I appreciate you bringing that to my attention.’ Rick’s voice was pitched in a businesslike tone that had absolutely nothing to do with Marissa’s greeting or, indeed, with her at all.

      Because he wasn’t alone, was he? How unprofessional of her to just storm in and start yammering away without even looking. Well, she’d only said good morning, but even so …

      Concentrate, Marissa. If professionalism at all times is going to be your motto, you might start with attention to detail. Such as—who might be with your boss when you enter the office.

      She hurried to her desk as Rick and the other man headed out of Rick’s room. Right. Marissa set about sorting her in-tray’s contents into ‘Get it done early’, ‘Can wait until later this morning’ and ‘Yeah, sure she’d really get to this today. Not!’ piles on her desk. The laminate covered in cartoons quickly disappeared beneath the piles of work. She wasn’t in the mood to be amused anyway.

      Rick saw his visitor out. The man gave Marissa a nod in passing. And then Rick turned to her and yanked at his tie and a wealth of regret showed in his eyes as he seemed to search for words.

      ‘About last night …’ He cleared his throat. ‘About my investigating why you’d left your last position, I mean …’

      ‘I overreacted.’

      Please accept that as the truth, and please don’t bring up the kiss that led to that discussion.

      ‘My reaction was silly because that piece of past history is exactly that. I’ve moved on. I’m dating, at least casually, again—looking for a nice, ordinary guy. Let’s just forget all of it. That’s what I’d like the most at this point.’

      If her request rang hollow, she hoped he didn’t note it. And if his gaze remained as dark and uncertain as before, she couldn’t let herself think about that. Professionalism at all times. She couldn’t let there be anything else.

      Rick’s gaze searched hers before he nodded and murmured, ‘I’m pleased you’re prepared to forget it.’ He didn’t look pleased, but really, what would she know?

      The next couple of hours passed in a flurry of the usual busyness. Rick worked on, but he had a hard time concentrating. He wanted to go out to Marissa, tell her again that he was truly sorry, somehow make up for the way he’d invaded her privacy. He didn’t want to think of her ‘dating casually’ and how possessive and inappropriate was that?

      ‘I was wondering, after everything, if Darla got the promotion? I meant to ask earlier but I … got distracted.’ Marissa asked the question from his office doorway, and he looked up into brown eyes that had melted for him last night, had filled with warmth and delightful response before he’d ruined it all with his thoughtless words.

      Ruined what couldn’t be allowed to happen anyway. Maybe he should just be grateful that something had put a stop to where that kiss had been headed. And forget about her ‘dating’ plans. ‘Darla got the promotion. I’m taking her and Kirri out during Kirri’s school lunch break today to celebrate.’

      ‘I’m really happy for her. Please pass on my congratulations to your sister when you see her.’ Marissa turned away and went back to her desk and her work.

      That was as it should be, right?

      So why did Rick feel so empty inside, as though he’d almost grasped something special in his hands, only to have it slip away after all?

      What was the matter with him? He pushed himself back into his work and tried not to think beyond it.

      Marissa observed her boss’s concentration on his work and tried her best to emulate it. She didn’t want to think. About his complex family. About him at all.

      The hours came and went and, late in the afternoon, after a quiet lull of concentrating solely on her work uninterrupted, the phone rang. She took the call, put it through to Rick. ‘You have a call on line one. It’s Tom.’

      Rick murmured his thanks and she went on with her work.

      ‘Tom.’ His voice softened. ‘How are you?’

      Another phone line rang. As she reached for it, Rick said, ‘Just rest and do whatever the doctor tells you, Tom. If it’s another two weeks, so be it. Marissa—Marissa’s holding the fort well enough in your absence.’

      Marissa tuned out Rick’s voice and answered the second call. ‘Marissa Warren.’

      ‘Marissa, it’s Dad.’ His voice was strained as he went on. ‘Mum’s in the hospital, love, with quite bad abdominal pain. They’re doing tests right now and they’re going to send her for an ultrasound before they—’ He cleared his throat. ‘To see what’s wrong.’

      ‘I’ll come straight away, Dad. Is Aunty Jean—?’ Panic flooded through her and she couldn’t remember what she’d been going to ask.

      ‘Yes, Jean’s on her way.’ Her father drew a breath. ‘She should be here in another hour.’

      ‘Good. That’s good.’ Marissa had to get to Milberry. It was her only thought as she clutched the phone tighter in her hand. ‘You can’t use your cellphone inside the hospital, I know, but you’ll phone my cell once Mum’s back from