Falling for Her Impossible Boss

by Alison Roberts

  ‘That’s true.’ Bella opened the door and Bib ventured out without hesitation. With a flick of a fluffy, grey tail, she sniffed the air and started to investigate her new surroundings. Within seconds she was sharpening her claws on the trunk of the nearest palm tree.

  ‘Bad cat,’ Bella admonished, picking her up. Bib started purring loudly but then wriggled to get down. She trotted to Lady Dorothy’s chair, leapt up into her lap and then settled into a fluffy ball, still purring.

  Lady Dorothy stroked the cat. And smiled.

  Bella tried to smile back but her lips wobbled. ‘W-where’s Oliver?’ she asked quietly. ‘I think it’s time I talked to him.’

  ‘Of course. I’m not sure he’s up yet.’

  ‘He hasn’t been up to see you?’ Bella glanced at her watch, horrified. It was nearly ten a.m.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ A quiet pride wrapped itself around Lady Dorothy’s words. ‘I tested my blood sugar myself. And I could have called Oliver to help me with my insulin injection but I didn’t need to.’

  ‘Oh…that’s wonderful. Well done, you.’

  ‘Oliver might be having a swim. Or using one of those dreadful fitness machines he’s so fond of. Do you want to go downstairs and find him?’

  Bella shook her head sharply. No way was she going to go downstairs. The last thing Oliver would appreciate would be having conversation they had to have if he was dripping wet and probably half-naked.

  She drew in a deep breath and clamped her lips together to stop them trembling but it was impossible to hold back the sting of tears. She blinked hard and willed them away, dipping her head and pretending to fuss with the catch on the carry-cage.

  ‘You care rather a lot about Oliver, don’t you, love?’ It was an observation rather than a question.

  Bella nodded, without looking up. Of course Lady Dorothy would know. She’d been aware of practically every glance happening. How embarrassing was it to know that the sexual frisson in the air every time she’d been in the same room with Oliver had probably been noticed by his mother?

  Not that Lady Dorothy seemed to mind. Bella’s love for her welled up and she had to look up and smile then. Lady Dorothy smiled back but her eyes were full of concern.

  ‘There’s something I should tell you before you talk to Oliver.’

  ‘Oh?’

  Lady Dorothy looked embarrassed now. ‘There have always been a number of women who are interested in what Oliver has rather than who he is. It’s probably contributed to how…wary he is with women.’

  Bella’s jaw was dropping. Surely Lady Dorothy wasn’t suggesting that she was interested in Oliver’s money? But Lady Dorothy held up her hand to stop her protest.

  ‘A very long time ago, when Oliver was first at university, there was a girl who was determined to marry him. Determined enough to pretend she was pregnant.’

  This time, Bella couldn’t stay quiet. ‘I’m not pretending,’ she said vehemently. ‘And I’m not a gold-digger. I don’t want his money.’ That Lady Dorothy could even suggest such a thing was astonishingly hurtful. She scrambled to her feet. ‘I can take care of this baby myself. I intend to take care of it myself.’

  ‘Take care of it?’ Lady Dorothy went pale. ‘You don’t mean…’

  Bib jumped off her lap, sensing the tension.

  ‘No, I don’t,’ Bella said, not even trying to check the tears running down her cheeks. ‘I want this baby.’

  ‘Oh, my dear. So do I.’

  Bella changed her mind about fleeing the room. She stared at Lady Dorothy.

  ‘What I was trying to say, obviously clumsily, is that you might need to be patient with Oliver. Give him a chance?’

  Bella bit her lip and scrubbed the tears from her face.

  ‘Whatever happens between you and my son is really none of my business,’ Lady Dorothy continued. ‘What I will say is that I think you’re a wonderful girl, Bella. You have so much love to give. So much joy that you bring to those around you. You need to know that you’ll have my full support, financial or otherwise.’

  Bella’s chin rose at the repeated mention of money but Lady Dorothy shook her head. She blinked rapidly a few times and looked, horribly, as though she might be struggling with tears herself.

  ‘You came to work for me because I reminded you of your nanna, didn’t you?’ she asked softly.

  Bella nodded slowly.

  ‘Well…this baby of yours will be my grandchild.’ Yes, there was definitely a tremble in Lady Dorothy’s voice. ‘Maybe the only one I’ll ever have and all I really wanted to say was that if this baby is anything like its mother, I will consider myself very blessed.’

  ‘Oh…’ It was the only word Bella was capable of. She bent down and hugged Lady Dorothy tightly.

  She was still hugging her when she heard her name.

  ‘Bella? I’d like a word, if you wouldn’t mind.’

  * * *

  He had intended talking to Bella as soon as she’d arrived this morning but he’d mistimed it. Instead, Oliver had overheard the last thing his mother had said and what he was planning to say to Bella no longer seemed like a good idea.

  How could he offer to marry her and do the best by his child when it would now seem as if he was only doing what would please his mother the most? A vaguely disquieting memory was surfacing with a vengeance now. When he’d thought that Bella was the person who had upset Lady Dorothy so much by producing the pink track pants for her to wear, he’d been prepared to go and tear strips off her to defend his mother. And he’d been embarrassed at the thought that he might seem like some kind of mummy’s boy.

  Offering to marry her now, after hearing those words about the impending grandchild, could very well be seen as doing exactly what his mother wanted so badly. What she might have told him to do because it was the ‘right thing’.

  Or, worse, simply as doing the ‘right thing’ because he was pompous and stuffy and…boringly predictable. The absolute opposite of everything Bella was.

  By the time he’d led her into the far more formal drawing room, Oliver felt like he was back on that damned merry-go-round. The first words that burst from his mouth when he had closed the door and turned to face Bella were certainly not what he’d planned to say.

  ‘How the hell did this happen, Bella?’

  Bella just looked at him, her eyes huge and scared and so very, very blue. Her hair was in a loose ponytail this morning and some shorter curls had escaped to frame her face. She was breathing fast and he could see the soft skin at the top of her breasts rising and falling.

  What a stupid, stupid question. He knew exactly how it had happened. And, God help him, if he had the opportunity to relive the circumstances that had caused them to be standing here like this, he would probably be unable to resist the temptation.

  He’d never wanted any woman the way he still wanted Bella Graham.

  Oliver closed his eyes, struggling for control. ‘You told me you were on the Pill.’

  ‘No. I said I was safe. I was talking about STDs. I’d been tested ages ago. I never slept around. I knew I—’

  ‘I asked if you were on the Pill,’ Oliver cut in. ‘You knew you weren’t and yet you let me think that the issue of an unwanted pregnancy wasn’t a problem.’

  ‘I didn’t think it was. I had a morning-after pill available.’

  ‘And you took it?’

  ‘Of course I took it.’

  There was a spark of something like real anger in Bella’s eyes now. Did she think that he was suggesting she’d planned this all along, to get his name and his fortune? Well, it wouldn’t be the first time and there was something in her face now that actually made him more suspicious.

  Guilt. It had to be.

  ‘What?’ he snapped. ‘What aren’t you telling me, Bella?’
<
br />   ‘It was…um…a bit past its use-by date. I didn’t think it would matter.’

  She was looking stricken now. A guilty child knowing she’d done something really bad.

  But it was so like her, wasn’t it? Slap-dash. Seizing the moment and not worrying about something that was unlikely to happen that might trip her up. Trusting her instincts, which, he had to admit, were often exactly the right things to trust.

  Like the approach she’d taken with his mother. If it hadn’t been for Bella’s often outrageous disregard for convention and consequences, his mother might still be in a hospital bed, too depressed to consider attempting rehabilitation. Oliver would never forget the sight of those bright pink track pants stuffed into the rubbish bin. Even now, he could feel his lips wanting to curl upwards.

  ‘I know it was irresponsible,’ Bella was saying now. ‘And I’m sorry.’

  Oliver was sorry too. Sorry that he’d started this conversation in such an angry and negative fashion. What his mother wanted had nothing to do with this but how was Bella to know that at some point during the long and sleepless night he’d just suffered, he’d realised that he wanted to marry her?

  That this pregnancy might be a blessing in disguise. The prod he needed to get past all the…stuffiness he’d surrounded himself with for so many years as he did the ‘right thing’ and avoided painful emotional involvements.

  Maybe the thing that had tipped the balance was knowing that if he didn’t marry her, she would disappear.

  He understood now why she’d been so quiet and, OK, well behaved in the last few weeks. She’d known about the pregnancy. Part of her had gone AWOL then and he’d been haunted by it, hadn’t he? Constantly thinking about her when he was supposed to be focussed on his work. Knowing that something wasn’t right.

  Missing her.

  If she disappeared from his life, how much worse would that feeling that something was missing become?

  It would become unbearable, that’s what.

  Because, at a somewhat later point in the night, probably when dawn had been about to break, the pieces had fallen into place, followed by a sense of peace that had led to him finally falling deeply asleep—the reason he hadn’t been upstairs and ready for Bella’s arrival, as he’d intended to be.

  That peace had come from knowing that the feeling that he’d always burned off with his exercise had gone and it had gone for good. That feeling that something was missing from his life and he didn’t know what it was—had he really only experienced it again yesterday when he’d been watching Bella with her family?

  He knew what it was now.

  Not simply family, even though he knew his mother was right and he had the chance here to become a part of a real family. One where there was a bond between every member and not an island of protection like the bond he’d had with his mother as a child.

  No. What had been missing had been the kind of love you could only have with someone who wasn’t a member of your family. The kind that gave birth to a new generation. A new family.

  The kind of love he had for Bella.

  Now was the time to tell her. Not to do the ‘right thing’ but to put things right. To make them as they should be. But he had some explaining to do first, didn’t he?

  ‘We come from very different backgrounds, Bella, don’t we?’

  She was eyeing him warily, as if she was expecting him to accuse her of fortune hunting. Oliver gave his head an unconscious shake, denying the suspicion.

  ‘My parents got married because it was expected of them. Not because they had ever been in love with each other.’

  Bella made a soft, huffing sound. ‘Are you about to tell me they got married because your mother was pregnant?’

  ‘What? Good God, no.’ The idea was just as bizarre as imagining Lady Dorothy wearing bright pink track pants with an elasticised waist. ‘No. They came from the same social circle. People who shared the same aspirations and values. Everybody thought it was a perfect match.’

  ‘And was it?’

  ‘No. Far from it.’

  ‘Well…there you go, then.’

  ‘Sorry?’ The comment was incomprehensible enough to fuel a gathering confusion.

  What was it he’d been intending to say? Something about having told her a relationship between them was inappropriate but not because she didn’t fit the expected mould of the people who’d always been in his life. The inappropriateness was because he wasn’t the kind of man she should probably be with.

  Oliver was afraid to tell her how he felt, he realised, because it was entirely possible that Bella would tell him it couldn’t possibly happen. That he would be a dead weight in the kind of life she had planned for herself. That he would hold her back and make her life less exciting. Less fun.

  ‘Expectations aren’t reliable, are they?’ Bella’s question was crisp.

  Was she referring to his parents’ marriage? ‘No,’ Oliver agreed. ‘They’re not.’

  Bella was standing straight and tall in front of him. Her gaze was intense. Fierce, even.

  ‘I’m not that girl you knew at university, Oliver. I’m not after your money and I certainly don’t expect you to offer to marry me.’

  She drew in such a decisive breath it sounded like a sniff.

  ‘And you can forget any expectations that you need to marry me because I’m pregnant,’ she added, turning on her heel. ‘We live in a very different generation from your parents, Oliver, and I wouldn’t consider marrying anyone who wasn’t in love with me. Or who I wasn’t in love with.’

  Oliver found himself left standing alone, staring after Bella as she wrenched the door open and marched through it. What had that meant?

  That it wouldn’t make any difference if he told her that he was in love with her?

  Because she wasn’t in love with him?

  He couldn’t leave things like this. Oliver strode after Bella. His mother was coming out of the conservatory and he couldn’t ignore her expression.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I forgot that the door was open. Bib ran away into the garden and she might get lost. Bella looked terribly upset.’

  Bella was probably upset about a lot more than the cat. With good reason. He’d made a complete mess of trying to talk to her, hadn’t he? Oliver headed into the conservatory and towards the open French doors.

  ‘Stay here and don’t worry,’ he told his mother. ‘I’m going to see what I can do to fix things.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  IT WAS hard to see through a mist of tears.

  Bella blinked hard but the part of the garden that came into focus was the rose-covered summer house and, for a heartbeat, she was lying in Oliver’s arms again. Being made love to.

  Being loved.

  It would never happen again. Bella stumbled as the image was blurred by fresh tears. He’d spelt it out, hadn’t he? He had been going to offer to marry her because it was the expected thing to do in his world. Maybe the reasons for the expectations for his parents to marry had been different but the result would be the same.

  A far from perfect result.

  But Oliver was still prepared to go through with it?

  Well, she wasn’t. No way.

  Even if it broke Lady Dorothy’s heart not to have potentially her only grandchild in the family.

  Bella stopped in her tracks for a moment, gulping in the fresh, ocean-tinged air. Controlling her tears because it was stupid to go charging down the steps when she couldn’t see properly. She’d end up falling and everybody knew how dangerous that was for pregnant women.

  She’d told Lady Dorothy that she could take care of this baby and she could. Starting now.

  ‘Bib?’ The cat’s name came out as little more than a whisper. Bella took another deep breath and
cleared her throat. ‘Bib? Where are you?’

  Her voice was stronger now. She was stronger. She could cope. When she found Bib, she would go back to Kate and Connor’s house and then she’d have time to really pull herself together and get her head around what the future held. As much as she loved Lady Dorothy, she couldn’t keep working and living in the same house as Oliver. They would manage. They’d managed just fine yesterday without her.

  She couldn’t go home without Bib, though. Kate might have been totally against having a fur child when the kitten had arrived in their lives, but Bella knew how much she loved her pet now. Imagine coming home from a honeymoon to be told that Bib had been lost. Washed out to sea or attacked by a seagull or something.

  The steps that led down the cliff to the almost private beach were steep but perfectly manageable. After about a dozen of them, Bella paused and called again and this time she heard something. A mewing sound that was definitely that of a cat but it sounded nothing like Bib. It was miserable and frightened and it struck such a chord with how Bella was feeling that her breath came out in a sob.

  The sound was coming from somewhere further up the cliff but Bella couldn’t see a fluffy grey shape anywhere. Cautiously, she moved away from the steps onto a natural terrace that was supporting some shrubs around the base of an old pohutukawa tree leaning out towards the sea at a precarious angle.

  ‘Bib? Come on, kitten. Where are you?’

  And then Bella could finally pinpoint where the sad cry was coming from. Bib must have raced up the trunk of the pohutukawa tree and then out onto one of the branches on the far side that hung straight out from the cliff. Maybe she’d looked down and seen the rocks on the beach far below and realised how much danger she was in.

  There was no way Bella could climb up to fetch her. The only option to save Bib would be to coax her back towards the solid main trunk of the tree but that wasn’t going to be easy. She could see the bottlebrush of a tail and the stiff posture of a terrified cat that wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry.

  The roots of the tree were a twisted nest that seemed well anchored into the cliff side. Carefully, Bella climbed over some of them. If she could get close enough to the trunk, maybe Bib would respond to her calls. The roots were certainly sturdy enough but what Bella hadn’t taken account of was the dry, crumbly soil between them. Her foot went straight through what looked like a solid part of the ledge and there was only air beneath it. She lost her balance and found herself falling.