by Joss Wood
Willa slapped her hands on her hips. ‘Why the hell not?’
‘Because he’s got fifteen years of business experience, has been a CA for ten, and I trust him with my life and—more importantly—with our business!’ Rob snarled. ‘Are you seriously suggesting that you can do his job? You don’t even have any experience in bookkeeping!’
‘I’d like someone to give me some damn credit!’
Willa bent down and yanked open the deep drawer of the desk. She pulled a folder out of the concealed filing cabinet. Slapping it onto the desk, she flipped it open and removed some pages. Stomping over to him, she smacked the papers against his chest.
‘I have a Master’s degree in commerce. I graduated summa cum laude. In case you’ve forgotten what that means, that’s the highest honours. I majored in accountancy and business law. I am not a freaking bookkeeper!’
Willa’s chest heaved and bright splotches appeared on her throat and neck. ‘You insensitive, insulting...clod! Now, take a walk back through my unlocked door and keep walking! Not even your excellent skills in the sack are worth putting up with this amount of BS and such lack of respect from you!’
Rob looked at the certificates in his hand and closed his eyes. ‘Dammit, Willa, I’m—’
If she couldn’t have his respect then she definitely didn’t need his apologies.
Holding up her hand to stop him talking, she shook her head. ‘Stop. Just get out.’
Rob looked stubborn. ‘I’m not leaving.’
Willa narrowed her eyes; he was either six one or six two of solid muscle, and she’d need a crane or the police to shift him if he didn’t want to move. She had no intention of using either. ‘Fine. Then I’ll leave.’
Striding towards the door, she blinked back tears as she looked at the ceiling. One teeny, tiny break here, universe? Any chance of that, huh?
* * *
Hours and too many tears later, Willa walked into her kitchen and closed her eyes when she saw Rob at the stove, a pink apron tied around his hips. It took a man very secure in his masculinity to pull that look off—then again, she knew that Rob had no issues with his masculinity. Neither did she. But as cute as he looked—and he did look cute in his black basketball shorts, red T-shirt and the frothy pink apron—she was still not happy that he was in her space, in her house, in her life...
Okay, that was a lie; maybe she was a little happy. He might be a stupid, insensitive male, but he was still pretty. And it looked as if he was making...was that pot roast? Striding over to the oven, she yanked open the door, nearly smacking Rob in the shoulder as she did so. Damn—missed. She wished she’d had a better aim or he’d had slower reactions.
Pot roast, roasted vegetables, peas...all her favourites. She was instantly catapulted back to helping her mum make Sunday lunch.
Willa bit her lip as Rob gently shut the door, and she didn’t resist when he linked his arms around her stomach and pulled her back into his chest.
‘How did you know?’ she whispered.
‘Know what?’
‘To make me that...it’s my favourite meal ever.’
Rob turned her around and pushed her fringe out of her eyes. ‘I didn’t. I was just hungry and I was looking for something to do while you got over your—’
Willa glared at him and he was smart enough to snap off his words.
‘While I waited for you.’ Rob rubbed her cheekbone with his thumb as his hand clasped the side of her face. ‘I’m sorry that I hurt you. That what I said came across as me insulting your intelligence.’
Willa sighed. ‘You did insult my intelligence,’ she pointed out.
‘I questioned your experience, Willa, not your degree—which is impressive, by the way.’
Willa stepped away from him and held her hand against her forehead. ‘It doesn’t make the sting go away, Rob! Tell me, please, how am I supposed to prove to anyone—you—that I can do the job if no one—you—will allow me to prove that I can?’
Rob walked away from her and went to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of beer. ‘Want a glass of wine?’ he asked.
Willa glanced at the wall clock, surprised to see that it was past nine—way past wine o’clock. And, dammit, she needed a little pick-me-up. ‘Hell, yes.’
Rob pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge and took the glass that Willa handed him. So working for him was out of the question. She understood, intellectually, that she was too inexperienced for him to trust her with his precious company. Her business brain understood his reluctance, but the rest of her wanted to pound her fists against his chest and wail like a child, screaming that the world was a horrible, unfair place.
Nobody had ever said that life was fair, she reminded herself.
Rob took a long pull of his beer and Willa couldn’t help noticing the masculine up and down movement of his throat, the width of his shoulders. His eyes were more blue than grey today. He met her gaze and passion, hot and wild, arced between them. Instead of moving towards her, as she’d expected him to, he lowered the bottle and slid onto a bucket-shaped stool at the granite counter.
‘I went to every single bank I could to raise the money to buy into my uncle’s gym. Every single bank manager I met—all of them fat and unfit, I might add—told me that I had no collateral. I didn’t. And, worse, I had no experience.’
Willa leaned her arms on the counter, interested despite her irritation. ‘So how did you raise the money?’
Rob peeled the sticker off his beer bottle. ‘My mum cashed in her pension fund. I nearly had a heart attack when she gave me the cheque. I was so angry with her; my father had left her some money—but her pension fund? Craziness.’
‘Did you refuse to take it?’
‘I did. Until she told me that I either took it or she was going to go on a world cruise and pick up as many disreputable men as she could who would help her spend it.’
Willa smiled.
‘She would’ve too; she’s the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. Anyway, I bought the gym. Then Patrick and I opened another one, and the old saying that it’s easy to get money out of the banks when you already have money turned out to be true. I repaid my mum,’ he added.
‘Of course you did.’ Of that she had no doubt. The man was a clot, not a scummy conman.
‘I’m trying to make a point here...’
He was? Willa had just thought they were having idle conversation. ‘Which is...?’
‘No one would give me a chance either and I proved them wrong. Maybe I should give you the same chance.’
It took a moment for the words to sink in, to make sense in her jumbled brain, but when they did Willa felt the sweet sensation of joy roll through her.
Telling herself not to get her hopes up, she lifted her eyes to Rob. ‘Please don’t toy with me,’ she pleaded with him.
‘I’m not. But I’m also not risking my business on your inexperience. So I’ll make you a deal.’
‘What deal?’
‘You start at the beginning—pretend that I’m a new investor. Make a list of the steps I need to take, detailing what you think I should I do, look out for. Back your opinions up with the relevant legislation... If you come up with a plan of action that is the same as Patrick’s we’re in business and I’ll hire you as my Australian accountant.’
Willa looked at him in astonishment. ‘Are you being serious?’
Rob’s mouth twitched at the corners. ‘Not up for the challenge?’
‘Of course I am!’ Willa swallowed her squeal. ‘How long do I have?’
Rob cocked his head. ‘Two days?’
‘You’re on.’
Willa slid off her chair and walked past Rob, who grabbed her by the seat of her pants and pulled her back.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’
Willa looked at him, surprised. ‘To work. I’ve got a stack of research to do.’
Rob spun her around and pulled her between his open thighs. ‘Your pot roast will be ready in fifteen minutes.’
Willa looked longingly towards the oven. ‘Okay, I’ll work after supper.’
‘After supper you will work—and it will have nothing to do with corporations and trusts and Inland Revenue,’ Rob said against her mouth.
Willa placed her hands on his thighs and felt the long muscles under her hands contract.
‘Tomorrow will be soon enough for you to get all nerdy and geeky and accountanty,’ Rob told her.
‘I am geeky and nerdy,’ Willa told him. ‘I even have those big black nerd glasses.’
‘I love those. You’ll have to wear them for me—naked.’
Willa pulled her head back and laughed up into his eyes. ‘Give me the job and I will.’
CHAPTER SIX
TWO DAYS LATER, after a long, long day interviewing personal trainers and admin staff, Rob was grateful to be off the clock—or as much off the clock as you could be when you owned your own business. It was a stunningly beautiful summer’s evening, still hot, and it was way past time for a beer and some downtime.
He was at Willa’s house—palace, mansion, whatever—and inside was a woman, cold beer and fantastic sex.
He’d certainly landed with his bread butter side up woman-wise, he thought as he dropped his keys and mobile into the ceramic bowl on the hall table. Willa was fun and uncomplicated, easy to be around, and—perhaps surprisingly—she enjoyed sex as much as he did. In his arms, naked, she became a sensual, demanding woman who wasn’t afraid to tell him what she wanted and how she wanted it.
Yes, the gods of a good time were sure smiling on him. If they could bring the gods of getting his business up and running to the party he’d be eternally grateful.
‘Oh, good, you’re here. Finally.’
Rob turned, looked at the creature who’d spoken to him, and blinked. Tailored black pants, stark white shirt, thick mahogany hair pulled back into a severe twist. Willa nearly always greeted him in shorts and a tank over a bikini—why was she dressed up like corporate mannequin?
‘Hi. You look...businesslike.’
‘That’s the point. But before we get to that, how is your cousin’s wife, his daughter? I’ve been thinking about them.’
Rob felt touched that she’d thought to ask. ‘They are both at home, recovering. Patrick has started to breathe again.’
‘I’m so glad,’ Willa replied. ‘So...can I see you in my study?’
Rob frowned at her crisp voice and briefly wondered—okay, hoped—that this was the start of a role-playing game in which he ended up taking her from behind as she leaned over her desk, that delicious butt in the air.
‘Can I get a beer first?’ he asked, veering off towards the kitchen.
‘Afterwards,’ Willa insisted, taking his hand and pulling him down the passage.
Rob allowed her to push him into the chair on the other side of her desk and waited from her to straddle him—because if he couldn’t get a beer then he wanted sex. Then a beer, then a swim, then more sex and possibly dinner. Then more sex—if he hadn’t passed out or dropped dead by then...
Rob jumped as Willa tossed a thick bound document into his lap. Frowning, he flipped it over. ‘What’s this?’
‘You gave me two days to gather information for you on setting up your company in Australia.’ Willa sat down in the chair behind her desk and looked at him. ‘That is what I came up with.’
Rob looked down at the professional-looking document in his hand and back to Willa, who was looking nervous and hopeful and...petrified.
Rob ran his hand over his jaw. You’re treading on someone’s dreams here, Hanson, do not open your big mouth and shatter her illusions. For once in your life be gentle. Or at least tactful.
When Willa hadn’t mentioned his little test again he’d almost presumed that she’d thought it too much of a hassle. He’d sort of thought that she liked the idea of working more than she was actually prepared to work...
Convinced that she wouldn’t actually take him up on his offer, he’d put out some feelers to the bigger accounting and finance companies in Sydney, in case she didn’t have the smarts, or the courage, to do the job.
He start to flip pages and whistled at the detail she’d gone into. He’d underestimated her, he quickly realised, and badly. There were SWOT analyses, alternative suggestions on how to set up his company legally, and a checklist of all the paperwork that needed to be submitted to the relevant authorities to become compliant. She’d gone above and beyond and— Holy hell! A paragraph caught his eye. He’d never thought of that. Neither, it seemed, had Patrick.
And if they set the company up as she suggested they would avoid some of the nasty and complicated regulations that governed foreign-owned entities.
‘When I said that I wanted a list of what needed to be done I expected a page or two—not a doctoral thesis.’
Willa shrugged. ‘What can I say? I’m an over-achiever and it was fun...putting my brain and training to work.’
Rob tapped the folder and held her eyes. ‘Good job, Willa. I’m seriously impressed.’
Willa sucked in her breath, hope shining from her eyes. ‘Impressed enough to give me the job?’
Rob, hoping that he wasn’t making a huge mistake, slowly nodded. ‘Yeah. I’m handing the paperwork over to you.’
Willa shot up so fast that she skidded backwards over the polished wooden floor and did a crazy dance on the spot. ‘Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes!’
Rob grinned and watched the years roll off her as she went a little silly. He sat back in his chair and placed his ankle on his knee, watching her twirl around. What a waste of her brain these last eight years had been, he thought. Her solution to his business’s greatest stumbling block was simple and clear-thinking and neither he nor Patrick had even come close to thinking of it.
Hell, for that alone he would have hired her. But, although he’d only skimmed through the document, there was also a wad of information in there that he could use, as well as steps towards what they needed to achieve.
Whoomph!
Rob tensed as a bundle of warm, fragrant flesh fell into his lap and a feminine mouth started placing kisses all over his face.
‘Gerrrrooofffff!’ he muttered, gently placing his hand on her face and pushing her away. ‘Stop doing that.’
Willa launched herself at him again, kissing his temple. ‘I absolutely won’t. Thank you—’ kiss ‘—thank you—’ kiss ‘—thank you.’
‘Okay, enough already.’ Rob leaned back out of her reach.
Willa, her legs straddling his thighs, grinned at him. ‘Why? Shouldn’t I be kissing my boss like that?’
She looked horrified, and Rob knew exactly what she was thinking.
‘Oh, hell...maybe I shouldn’t be kissing you at all!’
Rob chuckled. ‘Don’t be silly, Willa. Kiss me—just not like a sloppy puppy.’
Willa remained serious and he sighed. She was going to complicate this, he could just tell.
‘Maybe we shouldn’t if we’re going to work together,’ she said, gnawing on her bottom lip.
‘Stop that.’ He tapped her lip with his finger. ‘That’s my job.’ He sighed. ‘Don’t worry, gorgeous. You’re going to work for me and we’re going to keep sleeping together until my company is up and running and I go back to South Africa. Work is work and everything else is fun...is that clear?’
Willa pursed her lips. ‘S’pose.’
Rob flashed her a grin as his hands drifted over her stomach and then up to cup her breasts, his thumbs easily finding her nipples and rubbing them into hard points.
‘You have the prettiest body,’
he muttered, going to work on the buttons of her shirt, cursing as his big fingers battled to pull them through their tiny slits. ‘To hell with this!’
He ripped her shirt open. Willa just looked at him, and then down at her transparent bra.
‘I didn’t like the shirt, but don’t you dare rip this bra....’ Willa retorted—and then stopped speaking as he sucked her, fabric and all, into his mouth.
Willa responded to the rasp of the fabric against her ultra-sensitised nipples and moaned, grinding into his hard erection, which was perfectly placed to give her the maximum pleasure.
Rob, not in the mood to wait, or to take orders from her, flashed her a naughty grin and with one twist detached a see-through triangle from its strap.
Willa’s mouth dropped open as the material fluttered down. ‘Dammit, Rob, I told you not to rip it! Now you’re not getting the glasses!’
No sexy nerd glasses? Oh, damn. ‘Couldn’t you have told me that earlier?’ he complained, his hand coming up to rest on her bare breast. ‘Please? Pretty please?’
Willa tried to look annoyed—which she did well, considering that she was rotating her hips and sliding against the pipe in his pants.
‘No.’
Rob grabbed her hips and lifted her off him, easily holding her in the air. ‘Then you don’t get to do that.’
Willa thought for a moment and then wriggled off his lap. Standing with her back to him, in between him and the desk, she stripped off her shirt and the broken bra and quickly shimmied her pants over her hips. Keeping her strappy sandals on, she stretched as Rob played with the beaded T of her G-string. His heart picked up pace as he traced the cleft of her buttocks, touching the skin under the gossamer band of her thong.
‘These make men stupid,’ he muttered, placing an open-mouthed kiss on one of the two dents above her butt cheeks.
Pulling the clip that kept her hair off her neck, Willa shook her head and her hair tumbled down, heavy and thick against her back. Leaning across the desk, she picked up her heavy glasses and slipped them onto her nose.
‘Let’s see you, numbers nerd,’ Rob ordered and, his hands on her hips, spun her around.