by Joss Wood
Willa looked at Rob’s disappearing back and remembered what he’d said about his stepfather—that he’d been abusive towards his mother. Maybe Wayne’s crazy stunt had pulled a whole lot of memories and angst to the surface.
She suspected it might be a long time before he came to her...
If at all.
* * *
Taking Kate’s advice, Willa left the brooding Rob alone and, thinking she needed something to take her mind off her crazy morning, decided to tackle the cost projections and cash-flow spreadsheets herself. Soon she was lost in the numbers, carried away with her work. Here there were no mad ex-husbands wanting to teach her a lesson, nor brooding part time lovers, there were just the numbers; straightforward and simple.
Rob pulled her back to the present by knocking his good fist on her desk.
Willa jerked her head up, pulled her glasses off and rubbed her eyes. ‘Hi.’
‘Hi back. I’ve made lunch,’ Rob said. ‘Take a break—you’ve been at it for four hours.’
‘Ah...okay.’ She stretched her spine before climbing to her feet and following Rob out to the veranda. On the wooden table he’d placed a huge seafood salad, plates, and an icy bottle of white wine. Willa instantly began to salivate.
Sliding onto the wooden bench, she reached for a plate and dumped the avocado and prawn-rich salad onto her plate. ‘This looks so good.’
Rob poured wine into the glasses, handed hers over and took a seat opposite her. Willa saw that he was only using one hand and grimaced in sympathy. His other hand was swollen, black and blue.
‘Is it very painful?’
Rob looked at his fingers and shrugged. ‘I’ll live.’
Boy-speak for, Hell, yeah, it’s sore.
‘I’d like to move in here. Is that okay with you?’ Rob asked, his tone sober. ‘I’m worried he’ll come back.’
‘I really don’t think that is likely. Besides, I’ll be divorced in a couple of weeks,’ Willa responded, looking at her heaped fork.
‘Say yes, Wills. Please?’
Willa mentally debated what to do. Rob was spending most nights with her anyway, and it was stupid him renting an apartment that he rarely occupied. And there was no doubt that she’d feel safer with him around...not that she needed to feel safe. She now knew that she could handle Wayne—once a day and twice on Sundays.
But she wanted Rob with her not as a guard dog or a sleeping aid but as the man she wanted in her life—as someone she wanted to spend as much time with as possible.
She wanted him to see her as his equal, as someone strong and capable, not as a weakling who needed his protection. She wanted him to want to be with her—not because he had a misplaced white knight complex.
‘I don’t need your pity or your protection, Rob,’ she told him, after she’d forthrightly explained her dilemma.
Rob sat back in his chair and a glint of amusement sparked in his eyes. ‘I like the set of teeth you’ve suddenly grown, Willa.’
Willa stared him down, unwilling to be distracted from the matter at hand, and Rob eventually lifted a hand in resignation. ‘I’m by nature a protector, and I can’t and won’t apologise for that. I will always jump in front of the bus, the bullet, the wild pack of hyenas. But I don’t pity you. I don’t believe in pity.’ He flashed her his panty-melting grin. ‘And I like the idea of being able to fool around whenever and wherever we please.’
‘We’re doing that already,’ Willa pointed out, sure that he was trying to bamboozle her.
‘Yeah, but occasionally I still drive to the flat at night—a danger to all road-users as my mind is usually still in bed with you.’
Willa narrowed her eyes at him as she fought a grin. ‘You are so full of it. Okay,’ she said, before she forked her salad into her mouth. ‘Move in.’ Her eyes twinkled for the first time that day. ‘There are many guest bedrooms to choose from.’
‘Ha-ha, funny girl.’ Rob narrowed his eyes at her. ‘The only place I am sleeping is next to you.’
‘We won’t get a lot of sleeping done,’ Willa told him, her lips curving in anticipation.
Rob looked at her quizzically. ‘And why,’ he asked in that sexy drawl, ‘would that be a problem?’
* * *
Rob, coming up from Willa’s gym, rubbing his sweaty face and bare chest with a towel, stopped abruptly when he heard voices in the formal lounge.
Poking his head around the doorframe, he saw Willa, dressed in a pencil skirt that ended a couple of inches above her knees and a formal business jacket that he hated. Her fabulous hair was pulled into a tight knot at the back of her head and she was having an earnest discussion with two men in sharp suits. The younger held a tablet and was making notes in between sneaking looks at Willa’s legs. Although Rob didn’t like it, he couldn’t blame him—he liked Willa’s legs too...especially when they were wrapped around his hips.
‘As I understand it, the house was custom-built about four years ago,’ Willa was saying.
Intrigued, Rob slung the towel around his neck and pushed his shoulder into the doorframe. Willa hadn’t mentioned that she had an appointment this morning and he was surprised to find himself vaguely irked about that. Why hadn’t she told him? What was she planning? Why were these men in her house?
The older gentleman saw Rob leaning against the doorframe and lifted his head in acknowledgement. Willa turned, sent him a go-away smile and walked over to the wooden and glass doors that led onto the veranda.
‘Let me show you the outdoor entertainment area and the garden—and obviously the view.’
Rob lifted his eyebrows at her unsubtle dismissal and wondered whether they were potential buyers. Her divorce would be final in a couple of weeks and the transfer of property should be a simple process, allowing her to dispose of the house as she saw fit.
Rob thought she was mad... The house was incredible, and she’d never be able to afford another property in such an exclusive area again. The views were awesome, and it only needed new furniture and decent art and it would be a fabulous family home...
Except that Willa didn’t have a family. And it was ridiculously big for one or even two people. But she would have a family one day... Rob rubbed the back of his neck as he headed to the kitchen for some water. Why the hell was he thinking of Willa and her future family? And why was he irked at the thought of not being a founding member of that family?
He was a short-term option; he could only be a short-term option—nothing else.
The doorbell chimed and Rob cursed softly. It was like Grand-damn-Central Station around here this morning. He walked back into the lobby and yanked the front door open.
A fit-looking guy who looked to be a little older than him flashed a confident smile. ‘Hey, I’m from Pearson’s, the valuers.’
‘Yeah? So?’
‘Ms Moore here? I’ve come to do an evaluation on the gym equipment.’
Rob had hardly had any time to process that statement when he saw a thin blonde woman, older than him, walking up the driveway, the ubiquitous tablet in her hand. When she reached the steps she stopped and looked at Rob in approval. He felt like a prime roast in the supermarket, scared that she would pick him up and take him home...
‘Well, hello. Who are you?’ she drawled, her eyes on his bare abs.
For the first time in...well, for ever, he understood why women complained when men had conversations with a woman’s chest.
‘Who are you?’ Rob shot back, thoroughly out of sorts and feeling a little left out. Oh, he knew it was childish, but why hadn’t Willa discussed this with him?
The cougar introduced herself and laid a hand on his arm. ‘I’m here to value the art and the furniture.’ She looked past him and gasped.
Rob turned to see that she was gushing over the massive abstract on the wall—th
e one that both he and Willa hated with a passion.
‘Oh, my Gawd, is that a Johnno Davies? Holy mackerel, it is!’
‘Looks like someone vomited green paint all over a canvas,’ Mr Gym Valuer said in a low voice to Rob.
His type of guy, Rob thought. ‘It so does.’
He stepped back so that Willa’s guests could enter the hall. He gestured to the couch along the opposite side of the wall.
‘Take a seat. Willa is busy with...someone else, but I’ll let her know that you are here.’
Rob left them in the hall and headed into the kitchen, picking up his mobile from the counter, where it was charging, and firing Willa off a text message.
More people in your hall. What the hell are you doing? And I thought that I was buying your gym equipment!
He growled when he saw that her response was just the thumbs-up icon.
CHAPTER TEN
‘YOU’RE LATE.’
Willa, walking into her study two hours later, frowned at his growly words and thundercloud face. Rob was sitting behind her desk and working on her laptop—in her house. Something was wrong with this picture, she thought.
Her desk, her laptop, her spreadsheets.
‘Excuse me?’ she said, giving him the opportunity to choose another greeting...to have a do-over.
‘Last time I checked you were employed as my accountant, and I’ve been sitting here twiddling my thumbs waiting for you.’
Willa placed her hand on the back of the chair and looked at the grizzly bear who was occupying her space. Hmm, she didn’t need this nonsense, this snarky attitude today.
‘Might I remind you that I sat up for most of the night working through that franchise contract that you tossed my way yesterday afternoon? The one you said you needed to send off first thing this morning?’
The muscle in his cheek jumped and his eye twitched. ‘That was business.’
‘And those people today were my business. My world doesn’t stop just because you’re paying me.’ Willa tipped her head. ‘Oh, wait. Are you paying me? We never actually discussed my salary.’
Rob had the grace to look momentarily ashamed. ‘Of course I’m bloody paying you. I just haven’t got around to setting that up...’ Rob twisted his lips. ‘What’s your hourly rate?’
Willa remembered the rate she’d seen in one of those advertisements for an accountant and, because she was irritated with him, doubled it.
Rob winced and then nodded. ‘Okay.’
Hot damn. Okay, then.
Willa grabbed a pen and notepad and scribbled her bank account details down, before slapping the paper on the desk in front of him. ‘And for the use of my home as your office? And my laptop and internet connection?’
He shoved his chair away from the desk and stood up, every inch of him masculine, powerful and angry. ‘Why don’t you give me an invoice for all the expenses you’ve incurred on my behalf and I’ll do you a transfer right now?’
Willa flashed him a smile, nipped past him and sat in her chair, sighing at the heat in the fabric created by his delicious rear end. ‘Okey-dokey—will do.’
Rob shoved his hands into the pockets of his chinos and scowled. ‘Why are you acting like this?’
‘Why did you change the formula on this spreadsheet? Don’t mess with my numbers, dammit!’ Willa lifted her eyes from her screen as his question made sense. ‘Acting like what?’
‘Acting weird.’
Willa’s look suggested that he find another way to phrase that question and Rob took the hint. ‘These last few days... You’re different...’
‘Different how?’ Willa leaned back in her chair and placed her feet, encased in two-inch scarlet heels, on the corner of the desk, unaware that her skirt had ridden up and he could see most of her thigh.
‘Assertive and...bossy. And you took the initiative in bed last night...’
Willa smiled slowly. ‘You were moaning and panting and groaning... I thought you liked what I did.’
‘I did...’ Rob expelled his breath on an audible sigh, looked frustrated and pinned her with hot eyes. ‘But we’re not allowed to talk about sex in this room, remember? So... Who were those people who were here?’ he asked, suddenly changing the subject.
‘Property, gym equipment art and furniture valuers.’
‘I made you an offer on the gym equipment,’ Rob pointed out.
‘And it was a fair offer, apparently. But I didn’t know that until I got an independent valuer in to tell me,’ Willa explained.
She’d never believed for one minute that Rob would cheat her—if anything she’d thought that he might over-pay because he felt sorry for her. But this way, having a second opinion, had made her feel loads better. She also had a ball park figure for what she might expect for the modern minimalistic furniture and the awful art—which was a lot, lot more than she’d expected.
When she received their written quotes she would put their lowest estimates into a spreadsheet and work out her personal assets and liabilities, and from there she could make informed decisions.
Her decisions. About her life—financial and otherwise.
‘Why didn’t you tell me they were coming? That this was what you were going to do?’
Willa scratched her neck. So that was the bug that had climbed up Rob’s ass and started chomping on it. He was annoyed because she hadn’t asked his opinion or advice.
‘Should I have? Was I expected to?’ she asked quietly.
‘I...well...yeah,’ Rob replied. ‘We’re practically living together!’
‘So? In a couple of weeks...a month...we won’t be living together. You’ll be onto your next short-term fling—’ Willa kept her voice cool while her heart spluttered at that thought ‘—and I’ll still be making my own decisions. So what’s the point?’
‘The point is—’
Willa lifted her eyebrows, waiting for him to finish his sentence.
When he didn’t, Willa dropped her legs and leaned forward. ‘Rob, you told me that this is a no-strings-attached fling. I’m just playing by the rules, and according to those rules you don’t get to be huffy when they change. Do you want to change any of those rules?’
Rob, his eyes hot and frustrated on hers, took a long time to answer. ‘No.’
Willa rested her folded arms on her desk and looked him in the eye. ‘Your turn to ask me.’
‘Ask me what?’
‘Whether I want to change the rules,’ Willa explained patiently.
Dear Lord, boys were bad at this give-and-take stuff.
When Rob didn’t answer her, she gave him the stink-eye. ‘Or don’t I get to have a say in this situation? Am I just supposed to be grateful for what you give me and ignore what I want? What I’m feeling?’
‘It would be...easier for me,’ Rob admitted, honest as usual.
Except that she was no longer in the business of making decisions based on what was easier for other people. She’d been there—been the dumb girl in the wet T-shirt competition that had been her life.
She wasn’t doing that any more.
Willa just held Rob’s eyes, and he eventually sighed and said, in a resigned tone, ‘I know that I’m going to regret not ending this conversation right here and now but...okay. What do you want, Willa?’
Willa rolled her eyes. ‘There you go again.’
‘Are you going to tell me what’s bugging you or do I have to guess?’ Rob demanded.
Willa could see that he was fast running out of patience. If she was going to do this, it was now or never.
Doormat Willa lifted up her head to whisper, Preferably never...
Willa took a deep breath. ‘I want to change the rules...about us.’
‘Meaning?’
Willa swallowed. ‘Me
aning that I don’t just want an affair with you any more. Meaning that I want this to mean something, to go somewhere—to be more than me working for you and sleeping with you.’
Rob sat up, placed his forearms on his thighs and looked at her across the desk. He swore softly. ‘Dammit, Willa, we weren’t going to do this.’
‘I can’t help the way I feel,’ Willa said. ‘And I’m feeling more than I should.’
‘I think you’re confused. A lot has happened over a month.’ Rob rubbed his jaw with his hand. ‘We met, fell into bed, you got the job, you met your old friends... It’s been a busy month. You’re...’
Willa lifted her eyebrows in irritation. ‘I’m...what?’
‘Overwhelmed...you’re overwhelmed.’
And wasn’t that a verbal pat on the head? God! Willa looked at her desk and wondered if she could risk braining him with her stapler. It was big and heavy, and she only wanted to bash some sense into him, not kill him.
‘I’m overwhelmed. Ah, now I understand.’ She spoke softly. ‘Thanks for clearing it up for me.’
‘I hate your sarky quiet voice.’
‘You once said you loved it,’ Willa pointed out.
‘Not when its directed at me!’ Rob glared at her. ‘God, where is this coming from? I don’t recognise you any more!’
Willa felt her blood snap and crackle with temper. ‘You mean you don’t recognise the quiet, meek woman who asked How high? and How far? when you asked her to jump? You don’t recognise this one, who can make her own decisions, who knows her own soul, who doesn’t need your protection, your big badass attitude to keep her from harm?’ Willa shouted. ‘You talk a good talk about women being equal and strong and standing up for themselves, but you can’t walk the walk!’
‘That’s not fair—’
‘Isn’t it?’ Willa demanded as all her old insecurities bubbled to the surface. ‘You wanted a one-night stand; I gave it to you. You wanted an affair: I said yes. You wanted to move in after Wayne was here and I said okay. But you’re not happy when I get people in to value my art, my house, my possessions, because I didn’t run it past you first. You wanted an accountant and I begged you to hire me—’