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Australian Boss: Diamond Ring

by

Jennie Adams
Lights, Camera…Kiss The Boss

by

Nikki Logan

MILLS & BOON^®

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Dear Reader

Fiona Donner is talented, insightful, open and giving. She is determined to reach her full potential as an artist, and is unaware of her beauty and appeal as a woman.

A man full of strength and shields, honour and vulnerability, potential and giving, Brent MacKay has faced abandonment and a physical condition that is his gift and his challenge. He is successful and grounded, has built a family with his brothers, but he will never marry or commit to a woman. That simply isn’t a place Brent can go.

How can these two people find their way to a happy ending when the odds seem impossible?

When I wrote this story, I needed to put Brent and Fiona together and let them explore family and support networks, disappointment, hope, ambition and guardedness. Together, can they discover that wonderful connection and excitement and relief that comes from finding a soulmate and realising that, despite all the odds and obstacles, there is enough faith inside and enough love in each other to overcome all of it?

Do you believe a man and a woman can find a deep, calm happiness that is simply unbreachable, that all the world can see is for ever? I do, and I think Brent and Fiona will too. But I’ll let you look for yourselves…

With love from Australia

Jennie

Australian Boss: Diamond Ring

by

Jennie Adams

Australian author Jennie Adams grew up in a rambling farmhouse surrounded by books, and by people who loved reading them. She decided at a young age to be a writer, but it took many years and a lot of scenic detours before she sat down to pen her first romance novel. Jennie has worked in a number of careers and voluntary positions, including transcription typist and pre-school assistant. She is the proud mother of three fabulous adult children and makes her home in a small inland city in New South Wales. In her leisure time Jennie loves long, rambling walks, discovering new music, starting knitting projects that she rarely finishes, chatting with friends, trips to the movies, and new dining experiences.

Jennie loves to hear from her readers, and can be contacted via her website at www.jennieadams.net

For David. For the sound of your laughter, and your un-caffeinated morning voice. For the memories we’re building, for the teasing and for your strength and your love and your vulnerabilities. For the best hugs in the world and for bringing me home the piece of my puzzle that I needed so much. I love you with all my heart. This one is for you.

Chapter One

A LITTLE tingle went down Fiona Donner’s spine. It came from the impact of a pair of particularly appealing green eyes fringed with thick black lashes, focused utterly upon her as Brent MacKay made his job offer.

To compensate for that odd, unexpected reaction, Fiona used her best professional tone as she responded. ‘Thank you. I’m thrilled to accept your offer and yes, I can start Monday!’

The famous, fabulous, talented, highly private and intensely focused millionaire landscape designer Brent MacKay wanted her. That was reason enough for a shiver or two, wasn’t it? Fiona would be working with Brent for the next twelve months, with an option to extend if they were both happy with things by then. She knew already she would be happy. She’d just been offered the ultimate dream job!

Brent shifted in his executive office chair and his lean, tanned face creased into a smile. ‘You may find the pace challenging at first. I work hard across multiple projects at once and you’ll be providing input into all the major jobs I handle.’

‘I’m not afraid of hard work. In truth, I can’t wait for the challenge.’ She meant that with all her heart. ‘A chance at a job like this doesn’t come every day. It makes the past two and a half years of graphic design study worth every moment.’

And his offer was a true shot in the arm for her confidence in her artistic abilities. He wouldn’t want her if he thought she lacked the talent. She would work on computer graphic design for work proposals and job outlines. Original landscape paintings for the walls of his clients. Specialised photography for advertising and more. Fiona couldn’t wait!

See, Mum? I do have what it takes to survive in this field.

Fiona straightened in the comfortable black leather visitor’s chair and tugged at the hem of the pink and white checked jacket that covered her generous—well, okay, quite generous—curves, and tweaked the matching skirt into place.

She was five foot eleven in her stockinged feet, and Junoesque to go with it. Well, at least in this outfit she looked as good as she could look.

‘Here’s hoping you still feel as enthusiastic after your first week or so here.’ Brent’s glance lingered on her for just a moment before it moved to the bench-top storage that covered two of the walls in the room. Regimented rows of work covered their surfaces.

Fiona followed his glance, and followed it further, to the view of a busy outer Sydney suburb business street outside the ground floor window. A view of working class Australia going about what it did best. Working, and living.

If he wanted to, Brent could be in the heart of the city in a suite in a high-rise building with Sydney Harbour spread before him like an offering.

Instead, he was here in Everyman’s territory. A place Fiona knew she would be very comfortable because she loved its reality. Fiona murmured, ‘I will do everything possible to please you in every way.’

A beat of silence followed in which she realised her words could have been chosen a bit more carefully, and heat started to build at the base of her neck.

She hoped the blush stayed where it was and didn’t give itself away all over her peaches and cream face. Fiona’s hand rose to her high ponytail of blonde hair. She smoothed it in a nervous gesture before she could stop herself.

Her new employer stared at her intently before he dropped his gaze and said a low, deep, ‘I’m certain you will be everything that’s required.’

The fingers of his right hand drummed out a rhythm on the desk for a moment before he stilled them, became utterly still, and cleared his throat. ‘To date I’ve worked very privately on my projects at grass roots level, but I’m ready for this step now. You come highly recommended from the graphic design centre and, now that we’ve discussed the work, I very much want to bring you on board.’

To share in his creative process. It was a rather intimate thing. ‘I’ll respect your privacy, Mr MacKay. However you want us to work together, I’ll do my best to fit in.’

‘That’s appreciated, though I’m sure we’ll get along…fine.’

A few words followed by a calm glance that gave away absolutely nothing of his thoughts and yet somehow seemed to reach inside to a core part of her and find a connection anyway.

There was no reason for gooseflesh to break out on her skin, but it did. What was the matter with her? ‘I’ll work hard—whatever you feel will be helpful to the business.’

‘Thank you.’ He drew a breath. ‘I’d like to introduce you to everyone now. It’s a small office staff. Only about twenty people. Most of my employees are out on ground teams turning my designs into reality. You’ll meet one of the teams Monday, others as time goes on.’ Brent rose to his feet, crossed to her side and when she also stood, cupped her elbow to lead her to the door.

He was a tall man. Around six foot two, and all of it honed without an ounce of fat to be seen. Broad shoulders, slim hips, dark hair cropped short and with a distinct wave in it. His mouth was wide with a full lower lip, his teeth even and white. He had a straight nose that flared at the end.

And those gorgeous green eyes beneath winged brows. Eyes that seemed to watch the world with a combination of intensity and guardedness that Fiona found…compelling.

Employee to employer, that was. She found him compelling as a brand new employer. ‘It will be nice to meet everyone, Mr MacKay.’

‘They’ll all be excited to hear you’re coming on board,’ he said. ‘And please call me Brent. You’re going to be all over a work site with me Monday morning getting grubby, so I think we can do away with the formalities. I suggest you wear jeans for that, by the way.’

As he spoke, a worker stepped through the front door of the building. A brisk May wind followed the woman in. Winter would officially arrive in another month. Out here in this suburb, further from the Sydney coast, it would get cold. For now, the weather just had a slight edge.

Fiona glanced at her employer. He had dressed for that edge in a tan button-down shirt over charcoal trousers. Business-casual. He should have looked less compelling than he did, but an aura of leashed strength and intensity came from him, was stamped on his face.

Please let me be equally strong and focused so I can do well here.

At almost twenty-six years of age, it shouldn’t still matter so much to Fiona that she be able to prove herself. Perhaps if her family had been a little more supportive, or believed in her at all, it wouldn’t have.

‘Thank you…Brent.’ Fiona breathed in the sharp blue tang of his aftershave and tried not to notice the warmth radiating through her clothing from his fingertips.

Brent led her deeper into the open-plan office area. ‘You’ll want to move out here to live, I assume, rather than try to commute? From the address on your résumé, I gather you lived in central Sydney while you attended your course.’ He paused before the first desk, introduced Fiona and waited while she exchanged a few words with another employee.

As they moved on again, Fiona nodded. ‘That flat-share in the heart of the city was convenient while I attended the graphic design centre. But I’d prefer to live close to my work here.’ She liked the idea of migrating to this outer suburb. It would be an adventure.

It would bring her closer to several of her friends who came from out this way, too. And of course it would take her further from her family, who were all based on Sydney’s North Shore, but she couldn’t do anything about that.

The thought gave her a hint of something rather close to guilty relief. ‘I’ll start searching for a place immediately. Hopefully there’ll be something available through a local real estate agent, or a listing in a shop window—’

‘We’ll discuss that once you’ve met everyone.’ Brent guided her through the room, pausing at this desk and that desk to present her to his other employees.

She did her best to remember names and position titles as each person was introduced.

Finally Brent led her to the kitchenette at the rear of the open-plan area. Two men stood almost shoulder to shoulder there. The youngest wore a business suit, the older outdoor clothes. They both watched Fiona and Brent’s progress across the room.

‘Fiona, meet Linc and Alex MacKay, my brothers.’ Brent gestured to each of the men in turn. ‘Boys, I’d like you to meet Fiona Donner, the company’s new graphic artist as of about—’ he glanced at the watch on his wrist ‘—ten minutes ago.’

The way he addressed the men held pride and deep affection. She hadn’t known he had brothers, but then her research for this job application had yielded very little of a personal nature about Brent MacKay.

‘I’m pleased to meet you.’ Linc shook Fiona’s hand and let go. ‘I run the chain of nurseries that, among other things, acts as Brent’s key supplier.’

Linc was a tall man with dark hair, grey eyes and the same lean build as Brent.

No. Not the same build. He was deeper through the chest than Brent, thicker set all over. The impression of a shared leanness actually came from something in his expression, in a measure of guardedness in the backs of his eyes that Brent had also revealed.

Fiona murmured a greeting. ‘I’m having trouble guessing who’s the eldest. You seem very close in age.’ As she said so, the lack of true genetic similarities between the men occurred to her.

‘Brent’s the eldest. Most people don’t pick up on how close we are in age…’ Linc gave her a slightly surprised look as he trailed off.

Before she could think about that, the youngest brother extended his hand.

‘I’m Alex. I run an export business near here, but I’m also a shareholder in Brent’s company. I hope you enjoy working here.’

‘I can’t wait to start.’ Fiona shook the young man’s hand and released it. The third brother was substantially younger than Linc or Brent. Early twenties, she’d have guessed, though that was young to be running a business.

Blue-eyed like Fiona herself, Alex had a square-cut jaw, broad forehead and mid-brown hair and looked nothing like either of his brothers. He also had a glint in his eyes that probably had women chasing after him.

Fiona wanted to know the nature of this family, how they all fitted together.

As for eyes, and glints therein, she only had eyes for her employer.

Well, she meant she was only focused on him. She was focused on her new job! She didn’t have ‘eyes’ for men generally, anyway. Her role was that of ‘everybody’s friend’ and she liked that just fine. It was much less stressful than getting into a relationship that would only end up disappointing her. Or, worse, disappointing the man involved. Been there, not interested in repeating that. It was enough having her mother’s criticism of all the faults in her ability to appeal.

Fiona turned to Linc. ‘Maybe I could take photos at one of the nurseries some time soon. I’d love to get some background material to use when I start working with my computer designs for Brent.’

Linc’s shrewd gaze examined her as he inclined his head. ‘That can be arranged for you.’

‘When there’s time for us both to go,’ Brent inserted, and fell abruptly quiet. His head twitched to the right and a frown swept over his brow.

Linc’s eyebrows lifted and Alex stared at his older brother before both he and Linc looked quickly elsewhere.

Brent’s entire body seemed to freeze then.

Uncertain of what she was sensing in him, Fiona said slowly, ‘I don’t need to visit the nursery if that’s not convenient. It was just a thought.’

‘It’s not a problem.’ Brent pushed his hands deep into his trouser pockets. ‘I was just—’

‘Distracted,’ Alex put in.

‘He lost his concentration,’ Linc said at the same time, and clamped his lips together.

‘I was just thinking,’ Brent stated, and frowned again. ‘I’ll make a day for us to visit Linc’s nursery, Fiona.’ Brent seemed to make a conscious effort to move on from whatever that reaction had been. ‘I’ll make sure you get to do that. It’s a good idea for you to take those photos, and I visit the nurseries regularly anyway to inspect the stock, keep the inventory fresh in my mind and see what new things Linc’s managed to find for me. It’ll be convenient for us to go together, that’s all.’

‘Well, thank you. I’ll look forward to that when it happens.’ Fiona nodded and relaxed a little. She hadn’t committed a faux pax…

Which meant Brent’s reaction had been—?

Something she wasn’t going to be able to figure out right now.

So leave it alone, Fiona. You don’t have to understand everything about him.

In truth, she tended to want to delve too deeply into what made people tick. Well, her mother said so anyway.

A short silence fell before Linc cleared his throat and addressed his brother. ‘Have you discussed accommodation options with Fiona yet?’

‘That was next on my list.’ Brent turned to her. ‘You’re welcome to do whatever you like about your living arrangements, but Linc owns an investment property you might be interested in renting. It’s a one bedroom flat about a ten minute drive from here. The complex it’s in has courtyard parking for a car, if you own one.’

‘Are you serious? I thought I’d be looking all weekend and maybe end up staying in a pub or hostel before I managed to pin something down.’ Fiona tried to stifle her grin, and failed.

A smile lurked in the backs of Brent’s eyes in response, a beautiful, lovely smile. The man was lethal, and she didn’t understand the connection she felt towards him.

Fiona drew a steadying breath and turned to Linc. ‘How much are you asking for the flat per month? I’ll have to stick to a budget.’

Linc named the figure.

‘I’ll be able to afford that rent.’ That was a relief, and she simply needed to concentrate on the tasks and necessities at hand. Not on eyes that smiled at her through shields that made her think of her own life, its hurts and triumphs, and what Brent’s might have been and might be now. ‘When can I sign a lease agreement? I don’t need to see the place first. If you recommend it, that’s all I need to know. I don’t want to miss out on the opportunity to pin this down, if that’s at all possible.’

She smoothed her hands over her thighs and told herself to stop babbling.

Though Brent had remained silent during this interchange, his gaze followed the movement and she thought she heard him make a soft sound in the back of his throat before he glanced away.

If so, it was probably because she had drawn his attention to just how non-slim those thighs were.

On this lowering thought Fiona suppressed a sigh. Her body was what it was. There was no changing her build, or her height, or what she preferred to refer to as her curviness but her mother said was the result of far too much self-indulgence and couldn’t Fiona try to eat less?

She didn’t overeat. Her tiny mother couldn’t see that, though. To Eloise Donner, Fiona was the stork among the pigeons and someone needed to shrink her somehow. Preferably while shrinking her into a far more practical mould at the same time.

And Brent had simply followed her movement with his gaze. It was completely meaningless. It wasn’t as though her employer would be noticing her in that respect.

Which was a good thing, she reminded herself.

Linc drew a folded document and a set of keys from his back pocket and handed both to her. ‘Once you’ve read the lease, you can go ahead and sign it and leave it with Jaimie. She’ll pass it on to me the next time I’m here. Brent will explain where the place is and about getting you moved in, if you need help with that.’

The two brothers excused themselves and left then, and Fiona curled her fingers around the keys and lease and turned to her employer. ‘That was generous of you and your brother. Thank you.’

‘It was no trouble. Linc deals in a lot of that kind of property investment.’ Brent watched his brothers exit the room and the building before he allowed his gaze to return to his new employee. He hadn’t meant to follow the slide of Fiona’s hands down her thighs moments ago.

He hadn’t meant to notice her at all, but he had. She was a striking woman. Tall, beautifully built and curvy in all the right places. A woman who wouldn’t blow away in a strong breeze, who a man could hold in his arms without fear of crushing her.

She was also femininity through and through. From the dark blonde hair tied back from her face in a high ponytail to the robin’s egg blue eyes and fine arched brows, the straight nose and generous mouth, she looked softer than a flower, and equally as sweet.

The thoughts surprised him. Not the appreciation of her beauty. How could any man fail to notice that? But the intimacy of where his thoughts had taken him—thoughts of how it would be to hold her, of wanting to protect her from harm. Brent’s life had been all about protecting himself, his brothers. His father had put him in a place where he’d had no choice but to be strong. To hide his flaws from the world so they wouldn’t judge him as Charles had done. Brent hadn’t reached out to a woman for the kind of intimacy that would result in wanting to protect her as well as protect his own interests in a long time. Actually…he never had.

He never would do that. His limits would forever prevent that. And Fiona looked the kind of woman who would deserve exactly that kind of…care.

Which simply reminded him that he needed to appreciate her attractiveness from the distance of an unconnected observer.

Right. And he did. He’d simply become distracted for a moment. The same thing applied to the head twitch he’d experienced earlier. It wouldn’t happen again in front of her. He’d make sure of that as he did in all other circumstances.

Brent nodded in a completely concise, controlled manner as he came to this conclusion. If he felt somewhat relieved to have arrived back at a more known, comfortable place in his thinking, he told himself this was a good thing, anyway. ‘Let’s take you to Jaimie so you can sign your employment agreement and leave the lease with her.’

Once Fiona had done that, Brent gestured to his office area. ‘Would you like to hear about some of the projects I’ve got going? Some preliminary information to give you an idea of what’s in store for you?’

‘Oh, yes, please. That will give me a chance to think over the weekend before I start work officially on Monday.’ Fiona half-reached one hand towards him, dropped it self-consciously to her side, and her face pinked slightly.

His gaze locked onto that blossom of colour and his breath caught…

He pushed the door of his office open and stepped through to open the adjoining door. ‘You’ll be working in here. It’s a decent-sized room. I hope it’ll suit your needs.’

His voice was deep. Too deep. He cleared his throat.

Fiona’s gaze tracked around the long room, dodged his. ‘I’m sure it will. It’s a generous working space. There’s good light for my easel work, and plenty of desk space for computer monitors.’

‘I imagine there’ll be times when you’ll need all of that space.’

‘Is it okay to dress casually for when I’m painting? I realise there’ll be times when I need to look smart. Client discussions…’ A little ridge formed between her brows. ‘Perhaps I should just dress smart all the time, and wear a smock or something when I paint. I’m inclined to be a bit messy during that process, but I could try to change that.’

‘There’s a dressing room. I keep clothes here. You can do the same. Messy is fine, anyway.’ The thought of her using his changing room, shedding clothes and putting on new ones, wasn’t a place he needed to go.

So get on with it, MacKay. ‘On Monday we’ll be helping to finish up a landscaping project, and I’ll want you to take photos and think about a painting for the clients. They’re an elderly couple, very agreeable. They’ll be happy with whatever you put together. The photos will go into a Progress Album for the clients and our stock here for showing clients how we work. Nothing for newspapers or magazines, though. I accept the occasional interview to keep the media off my back but I’m selective, so if you’re ever approached I expect you to shoot the enquiry straight to me.’

‘I will do that.’ Her expression showed she didn’t understand the ‘why’ of it, but her acceptance was enough. ‘And I can certainly take the photos and also use them to help me create an appropriate painting for the clients.’

Fiona gave him a pleasant but firm look. ‘It’s not ideal to come in partway through and need to produce a painting in that way, but I’m sure that won’t happen in the future.’

Brent liked a woman—correction, a person—with enough spunk to say what they wanted.

From the distance of an observer. You like it from that distance. ‘Don’t worry. You’ll be included in future planning. In fact, I have a project that’s been driving me mad for the last three weeks. The client won’t settle on a design. I’m hoping if I pull you in on that one it might get me the breakthrough I need.’

‘Okay, well, that’s good then, and I’ll be happy to try to help with your project.’ Her expression held the slightest sheepish edge before she squared her shoulders and seemed to decide it was best she’d been clear about her expectations.

Brent went on to explain the problems with the project he’d mentioned, and to discuss some other issues. Work was easy. He always felt at home with his landscape projects.

An hour later Fiona stood at the door of his office once more, bag in hand, and thanked him for his time. ‘I can’t wait to start work Monday. I’ll have some photographic equipment to bring out to the landscaping site, if that’s okay.’

‘That’s fine. Anything you bring will be safe there, though we should get your equipment added to the business’s insurance cover.’

‘Shall I phone the details in later today? Model numbers and so on?’

‘Do that. You can leave them with Elizabeth, my receptionist.’ With this issue resolved, Brent went on, ‘If you need help to move into your flat this weekend—’

Fiona smiled her thanks, but shook her head. ‘I can get Tommy to use his delivery truck to help me shift the larger items. My friends all knew I was coming for this interview, so they’ve been on standby, half-expecting this.’

So ‘Tommy’ was simply one of those ‘friends’? Brent couldn’t explain why he suddenly felt…lighter than he had a few seconds ago. ‘Okay, then I guess I should let you go so you can start making arrangements.’

Fiona made a little bouncing motion on the balls of her feet. ‘A new home, a new job and a new part of the city to live in. I can’t wait to take it all on. Thank you again, Mr MacKay—Brent—for this chance.’

‘You’re more than welcome.’ Brent said his goodbyes and then watched her leave the building, hips swaying with each step she took.

And then he immersed himself in landscape plans, where he could line up his ideas in neat rows and spend as long as he needed on each aspect of his work. His head twitched sharply to the right, but he was by himself now. He didn’t worry about trying to conceal the action.

At least the condition he lived with was good for helping him to focus on his work, and he had every right to keep knowledge of it from the world at large. It was in his best interests to do so. His father’s past behaviour had made that abundantly clear.

Brent dug into his plans and put thoughts of Fiona Donner’s lovely smile—of his new employee’s smile—right out of his mind…

Chapter Two

‘A DOZEN shrubs for you, Russ.’ A worker placed the shrubs on the ground and moved away to collect another load.

It was Monday afternoon, towards the end of Fiona’s first day at the new job. Spending it out of doors helping to complete an actual work project as well as gather photographic resources for her painting and for the company to use to showcase its services had been a thrill. She smiled to herself as words continued to flow around her.

‘Hey, Phil. Can I use that mattock for the next ten minutes?’

‘Great job with the bougainvillea, Chelsea.’ This was Brent’s voice as he turned his head to check on one of the more junior members of the ground team. ‘Keep up the good work.’

The sun was shining and the ten-acre work site on the edge of a newish Sydney suburb was abuzz with activity. Brent was motivated and positive and determined, and the ground workers responded to his authority and encouragement by giving their absolute best. He was at home in this, and Fiona…found that knowledge of him perhaps a little too appealing.

‘We’re going to finish this job on time.’ The site boss, a man in his mid-thirties with a shock of carroty hair squashed under a baseball cap, paused beside Fiona to murmur the words. ‘I knew we would. The company hasn’t missed a deadline yet, even when things have gone pear-shaped, as they did with this project when some of the goods we ordered didn’t arrive three days ago.

‘That never would have happened with Linc’s nursery supplies. I’m guessing in future Brent will refuse to buy from anywhere else, even if it means asking his brother to import or source what it is that he needs.’

Brent had pulled in about a dozen extra workers from other job sites to work on this project. Fiona had done her share of carrying and carting and planting and fetching throughout the day, too. She was ‘grubby’, as Brent had predicted would happen. Mostly around the knees and seat of her jeans, and it was all good honest dirt. She’d learned so much about his process by getting her hands into it, and she’d had a ball getting dirty at the same time! ‘There doesn’t seem to be a lot left to do now.’

‘I’d say another half hour of work for everyone, if that.’ The boss moved on, and Fiona planted the last shrub in her allotment and dusted herself off.

She watched as Brent lifted a plant from a wheelbarrow and placed it in a prepared hole a few metres away with an efficient movement. In the early days of his business he had probably spent a lot of his time on this kind of thing.

He worked with a focused, economical efficiency. Her camera lens had tracked that focus again and again throughout the day. She itched to photograph him again now.

For their office files, Fiona justified. She glanced guiltily at the other nearby workers, but none of them seemed to be taking any particular notice of who or what she was studying.

Right now she needed to study landscape photo angles. She gathered her equipment. There should be a nice sunset soon, if she could find the right place on the property to photograph it. She fished her iPod out of her jeans pocket, placed the earphones in her ears and let the music and the lighting and the mood absorb her.

She truly was all about the work.

She was!

Brent found Fiona in a far corner of the property site, camera carefully placed on a tripod. She was waiting for something, he wasn’t sure what. And, while she waited, her body moved unconsciously to music only she could hear.

In her jeans and fitted red shirt, with dirt smears on her legs and other places, and her hair ruffled and half-falling from her ponytail, she looked…lived-in, girl-next-door.

He almost managed to convince himself she looked quite ordinary, in fact, until she made a small sound in the back of her throat, leaned in and took several photos before she straightened with a satisfied sigh, pulled the earphones from her ears and began to dismantle her equipment.

Because the truth was Fiona dressed in this way was anything but ordinary, and with the flush of achievement on her face she was anything but comfortable or girl-next-door.

Brent drew a deep breath and stepped forward. ‘Finished? Did you get the shots you wanted?’

‘Oh!’ Her hand rose to splay over her chest. ‘I didn’t realise you were there. I was photographing the sunset. I’ve taken around two hundred photos today. Not all of them will be used, of course, but I think I’ve gained a good overview of what a team of people can achieve on a site in a single session. But please tell me I wasn’t muttering or singing while I worked.’

‘You were soundless, I promise. I didn’t want to disturb your concentration so I waited, that was all.’ Their fingers brushed as he reached to take the tripod from her.

Just that, and Brent’s focus slipped. He froze on that slip. Came to a complete stop with his fingers closed over Fiona’s. Only a beat of time passed before he moved his hand, but that one beat was a beat out of his control and that concerned him.

That Fiona now studied him with her head tipped to the side and curiosity stamped on her face bothered him more. There were certain things about him that he kept to himself. He’d learned from a master instructor that doing that was necessary.

Most of all it bothered him that this one woman set off in him things to do with his condition that very few other people could make happen, no matter how much they impacted on him. His need to protect his privacy about that rose even in the face of his awareness of her. It wasn’t a comfortable combination.

‘I think I got a couple of great shots just now.’ She glanced up into the branches of the lemon-scented gum tree that towered over them. ‘Ones with the light spearing down creating a dappled effect. I hope to base my painting on that concept.’

‘That’s good.’ His thumb rubbed over and over against a ridged edge on the tripod. Brent forced the movement to a stop. ‘I’m glad you got the material you wanted.’

‘It only took a little while, a bit of waiting for that perfect moment.’ Fiona seemed about to ask him something.

Brent braced, but her glance shifted around the vacant lot, past him, swung left and right and finally moved to the outside perimeter where all the work vehicles had been parked.

‘I guess maybe I took longer than I noticed. The work’s finished.’ She seemed chagrined. ‘They’ve all left. I was so focused on what I was doing that I didn’t notice. How long did I keep you waiting?’

‘Not long, and I didn’t mind waiting.’ He growled it in a tone that quite likely made her believe the opposite. The truth was, he’d got value out of watching her work. ‘If you’re done here, we can leave now.’

‘Yes. I’m done. Thanks.’ She hustled towards his utility truck.

Brent joined her, opened the passenger door for her and climbed in behind the wheel. ‘The office will be closed by the time we get back, but we’ll get anything from inside that you need. Then, if you’re not too tired, I’d like you to join Linc and Alex and me for dinner so they can hear your impressions of your first day on the job.’

They’d planned for this—to get Fiona’s impressions without giving her too long to think first and maybe fall back on more PC answers rather than simply giving her true impressions.

And it would be fine. Taking her to his brothers would be exactly what he needed to bring this—whatever it was that he experienced when he was near her—back into perspective.

It had probably just been too long since he’d spent time with a woman. There were always offers. They never meant anything more than what they were, and maybe he was starting to feel a little jaded about that.

Brent pushed the thought aside, because there was nothing else for him. And he wasn’t jaded, anyway. ‘Linc and Alex and I all hold shares in each others’ companies. So you’ll be reporting to all of us.’

‘I’d be happy to discuss the day with all of you. Actually, I’d like a chance to bat my reactions around with you, particularly.’ Fiona glanced down at her jeans. ‘I’m grubby, though.’

Brent drove into the traffic. ‘That won’t matter. We’ll be eating at home, and Linc and Alex know we’ll be coming straight from the site.’

‘Then I’m happy to come to dinner and “report in”.’ Fiona smiled. ‘Thanks.’

And Fiona was. Happy. Cheerful. Chatting about the other workers and Brent’s work projects generally as they made their way back to their suburb, where she collected her car from all day parking and followed him to his warehouse home.

‘It’s this way.’ Brent waited while Fiona exited her car in the large ground floor parking area and led her into the foyer of the converted warehouse building he and his brothers shared. It felt good to bring her into his home, and that was one more reaction he didn’t want to have to deal with.

Fiona stopped in the centre of the polished floor and her glance darted this way and that. ‘Oh. How gorgeous. And it’s so big and very private. I never imagined from the outside…’

‘That was what we hoped when we bought the place and converted it. An illusion of it being nothing special, but inside there’s space and…we know we’re not on display.’ He cleared his throat. ‘We like it, anyway.’

Brent laid his hand on the curved handcrafted staircase that led to the upper level, and watched her look her fill in this place where he felt…comfortable, where he owned his space.

One end of the foyer held a leather sofa and chairs. The art on the walls was bold and bright—blues and whites, yellows and greens and pinks on canvases large enough not to get lost on the huge walls.

Fiona’s gaze settled on those artworks for a long moment. Finally she said, ‘The colours and designs of those are fabulous. I don’t think I know the artist…’

‘Alex’ll be pleased you like his work.’ Brent was pleased. And proud. And way too conscious of her reactions altogether. ‘Let’s go find my brothers.’ He led the way up the staircase. ‘We all have separate homes within the warehouse. For tonight, we’re meeting in the courtyard area upstairs.’

‘I think it’s wonderful that you’re all so close.’ Her tone held a wistful edge she didn’t quite manage to conceal.

Yet she had a family, had referred to parents and sisters on the drive to the site this morning, and obviously, if they’d raised someone like Fiona, her parents must be special people.

Before Brent could consider that further, his guest made a beeline for the youngest of his brothers. ‘Alex. Your paintings are beautiful—’

‘Thanks.’ Alex turned from the barbecue with a modest smile and a wry twist of his mouth. ‘Brent brought your portfolio home over the weekend to show us. Your work is far better.’

‘Different,’ Fiona corrected. ‘Not necessarily better.’

Linc placed a bowl of salad on the long table. ‘Hiring a graphic designer was a big step for our brother. He’s accustomed to working his designs through on his own, but he felt the company was ready for it, that it would be a good thing.’

‘I hope it will prove to be.’ Fiona’s gaze encompassed all of them.

Brent glanced her way. ‘I’ve seen enough of Fiona’s work, and now seen her in action, to have no doubt I’ve made the right choice.’

At least she had managed that while she’d fought her reactions to this talented and complex man. And surely, in a day or two, when she’d settled into the job and become used to her employer, she would move past this consciousness of him.

‘I appreciate your faith in me, Brent.’ In truth it touched a deep place in Fiona’s heart that had been chilled the day she’d told her family she’d decided to follow her dream career, rather than the logical, safe one they’d steered her into when she’d first left high school at eighteen.

They’d been equally unenthusiastic when she’d phoned to say she’d landed this job and moved out here. She might as well have said she’d got a good bargain on bread this week at the supermarket for all the level of excitement or support she’d received in response.

So Brent’s attitude was a boost, even if her reaction to it didn’t exactly help her to feel blasé towards him.

‘It’s easy to have that faith. You’re talented, enthusiastic.’ Brent’s gaze lingered on her for a long moment before he gave a deliberately relaxed grin that soon became a natural one. ‘The company can only benefit from your input.’

‘Thank you.’ For the generosity of his words and the sincerity in his eyes as he delivered them.

He was a complex man—there was so much beneath the surface. She’d sensed that from the first moment of meeting him. Now, she simply wanted to know him all the more.

And, because Fiona felt a little emotional about that, and about his praise, she quickly cleared her throat and smiled. ‘It means a lot to work for someone who has such faith in me and who I can have total faith in as well.’

Fiona drew a deep breath and glanced at the feast spread on the table. ‘The food smells wonderful. I confess I’m a little hungry!’

They all took their seats at a picnic style table with bench seating. Linc and Alex sat on one side. Fiona ended up seated beside her boss on the other.

Focus on the meal, Fiona. On being an appropriate guest, or talking about work.

There were vegetable kebabs made of cherry tomatoes, courgette, onion slices and button mushrooms marinated in a wonderful herbed Italian dressing and cooked to perfection. Steak and sausages—Fiona left those to the men. Whole potatoes cooked in foil and served with sour cream and fresh chopped chives. And delightful seasoned ground beef patties.

‘Which of you is the chef?’ The outdoor area was set up with potted small trees and plants everywhere. It was enclosed, no view, and the overall feeling was one of security and…intimacy.

In a purely familial context!

‘I did the easy stuff. Rosa did the kebabs.’ Alex’s glance dipped to his plate. ‘Rosa’s our cleaner, mostly, but she does other things for us as well.’ He hesitated and his brows drew together as he considered the matter. ‘Sort of like a mother would or something.’

A mother these men didn’t have? Alex’s words made it sound as though they hadn’t ever known that.

Fiona’s thoughts returned to how dissimilar the men were. She shifted her gaze to Brent’s face but his eyes were shielded with those long silky lashes again.

Perhaps they’d all had different mothers? Or fathers? Or some of both? Perhaps family life had been a little complicated for them? Well, she knew all about that from her own family. Though she was the only one who would say that situation was complex. Her parents and sisters would say it would all be just fine if Fiona would simply make an effort to fit in better. ‘My compliments to Rosa, then.’

‘So tell us your impressions from today.’ Linc carved another piece of meat from his steak as he waited for her response.

‘I have some photos now that I believe will be good for general marketing purposes.’ She explained the thoughts behind those concepts, and was pleased when Brent started to nod and approval showed clearly on his chiselled face.

‘I also have photos for the idea I want to use for a painting for the clients.’ It was a great idea to add a painting into each landscape project, and Fiona was keen to get started on this one. ‘If the clients hang the painting in their home and talk to their visitors about the landscaping work Brent’s done for them, that can only be good for business. Working with my hands, helping to do actual planting, really helped me to get a feel for what Brent’s work is all about, too. I…valued that.’

She felt as though she’d been given an insight into him. Fiona glanced his way and for a brief moment their gazes met and she wondered if he sensed that connection in the same way she did.

Seconds later he blinked and looked away and the moment was gone.

‘I’d like you to create a better business logo for us, too.’ Was Brent’s voice a little deeper than usual as he said this? ‘I think we’re due for a change there. I’ve never been entirely happy with the logo we have. I want something timeless, with a style that won’t date, but what we have now feels a bit too pedestrian.’

‘I’m sure I can come up with some viable possibilities. You might want something with just a few bold lines. It’s surprising how effective that can be.’

Brent’s gaze narrowed as he considered the idea. ‘Yes. I can see that.’ Again, that smile kicked up one side of his mouth. ‘I like the way you think.’

‘Thank you.’

They ate and they talked and Fiona lost her over-consciousness eventually and relaxed and, before she knew it, they were batting ideas back and forth. So fast, in fact, that she was almost breathless with it.

The scent of barbecued meat and vinaigrette dressing and city in the evening filled the air around them and she leaned close to her employer and he leaned in close to her, two heads bent together in an almost conspiratorial huddle, until she realised just how close they were and her consciousness of him sharpened again.

As they fell silent and his gaze tracked over her and came back to rest on her eyes, a shiver similar to that very first one she’d felt tickled over her senses. There was warmth in his expression, and frank male interest…

Before he shut the latter down.

It stung. More than Fiona wanted to admit because she’d had this experience enough times in her life. She’d had it the one time she’d trusted a man enough to get truly close to him. That had been years ago now, but it had left its mark, had made her wary, and that wariness had proved accurate over the years.

And now her employer was doing the same thing.

But he was only her employer and that was what she needed to remember.

‘I’m looking forward to tapping into your vision.’ That was what they needed to talk about, to focus on. She swallowed. ‘For your work. Tapping into it and learning how to present it in its best light for each project. The emotion you convey…’

His expression became a mask and the fingers of his right hand drummed out a staccato rhythm on the table.

Moments later that rhythm stopped.

All of Brent stopped, frozen in time for a long moment as his gaze searched hers.

Finally he said, ‘All I do is make the best I can out of each project I take on. That’s just…work. Any emotion you put into it will be your own.’

His belief in this was in his eyes, in the closed conviction on his face. Belief and self-protectiveness.

Why wouldn’t he acknowledge that he poured himself into his work? It was so obvious to her.

She’d examined a lot of his projects over the past two years. Landscape design had fascinated her from the start of her course, and his work had held the most appeal to her purely because of what she sensed in it.

Strength and conviction, imagination and reaching out and…protecting himself. Oh, she had responded most of all to that. It was one of the things that drew her to him, even when she knew she shouldn’t and mustn’t allow herself to be drawn. She’d only get hurt and, anyway, he was the boss, out of her reach and her league!

‘I want to draw out what you’ve seen, your vision for each project.’ Fiona spoke carefully, took the diplomatic route in her reply. ‘But I’m certainly happy to add my own layering to that.’

‘That’s the best way to look at it.’ Brent seemed satisfied with this and the conversation moved on then, expanded to include all three brothers again.

After a time, Alex got to his feet. ‘I have phone calls to make to one of the company’s overseas contacts before it gets too much later. If you’ll excuse me?’

Linc stood beside Alex and a frown creased his brows. ‘I might head out to Cecilia’s. I wasn’t really satisfied with the discussion we had earlier today on the phone.’

Fiona watched the brothers disappear and turned to Brent with the quirk of one eyebrow. She asked lightly, ‘Woman trouble for your brother?’

Brent stood and began to gather dishes and utensils together. ‘Cecilia manages Linc’s largest plant nursery. Who knows what the issue is this time? They’re two strong personalities. They clash sometimes.’

‘Ah.’ Fiona got to her feet and helped gather the remainder of the dishes. ‘Where are we headed with these?’

‘My place.’ Brent led the way out of the courtyard area and along a hallway until they came to a recessed door. ‘It can all go in the dishwasher.’

‘And then I’d better leave.’ Fiona held the plates carefully and waited as he opened the door to his home within the warehouse building. ‘I enjoyed the meal and our talk. I hope your brothers were happy with my first day reactions.’

She’d all but forgotten the presence of the others at times as she’d focused her attention on her boss. Fiona knew she had to do better than that!

‘I think we were all more than satisfied. Kitchen’s this way.’ Brent strode at a brisk pace past a large living area and into a slate and white kitchen.

Was it the rich aroma of percolated coffee that drew him along so fast? She didn’t get the chance to more than half-glance around her.

Fiona stopped at the edge of the kitchen and then she did let her gaze take in the sight of three different coffee machines on the counter, and a myriad of other gadgets beside them.

Her lips twitched. ‘I take it you really like coffee. And gadgetry.’

‘Different blends for different times of the day. The coffee is on a timer, so I can make sure it’s ready for me when I want it. My evening dose is decaf.’ A slight smile creased his lips. Then his expression sobered as he examined the rest of the gadgets. ‘The way they all work interests me. I probably have bought more things than I really need.’

As though he’d said too much, he drew two coffee mugs from an overhead cupboard and raised them in question.

‘Yes, please.’ If it was decaf, it wouldn’t hurt to have it. She was intrigued by this small revelation into his personality, too. She would have liked to pursue the topic, maybe tease him a little about having an obsession about the way things worked.

A small memory flitted through her head as she thought this, of someone with similarities to her employer, but she lost it before it could fully form. ‘The coffee smells far too good to be caffeine-free, you know.’

‘It’s an imported blend. A bit self-indulgent of me all up, I suppose. Overall, my curiosity hasn’t always been welcomed, but I tend to indulge it nowadays, in my own setting, at least.’ He cut off the words and then seemed to relax out of whatever place they had taken him. He poured the rich blend and passed her one of the cups.

‘You’re hardly self-indulgent, and I think curiosity is a good thing. How else do we learn?’ The words emerged without her conscious volition. But he’d earned the money he had. If he wanted to import coffee and invest in gadgets he didn’t necessarily use, why shouldn’t he? Those things seemed very small indulgences and if he enjoyed exploring them at the same time…‘I mean great coffee is worth investing in.’

She put the mug to her lips and sipped, and the rich thick liquid slid down her throat so smoothly that she had to close her eyes and let a small sigh of satisfaction escape. ‘Oh, that is good. I think for the pleasure of that taste alone, all your curiosity has been well worth it in this case.’

‘You have a unique way of looking at things. Calling it that…’ Brent fell silent.

‘What else would it be?’ She opened her eyes and caught his gaze on her. Unshielded in that first instance, and somehow almost vulnerable.

And…edged with a consciousness of her that brushed across her senses like a touch.

This time he didn’t shut it down. Oh, he looked away, but the awareness was still etched on his face when he did that.

It echoed inside her, too. Fiona dropped her gaze to her cup again while her heart inexplicably pounded. It was a foolish reaction. One that she needed to quash because, even if he did find her attractive right now, that could change. In any case, he was her boss and it would be really far less than sensible for her to allow feelings towards him or to start believing he had any towards her.

Maybe he simply found her opinions interesting and she was imagining anything else.

They sipped their coffee standing right there, leaning against the kitchen counter. When the silence stretched, Fiona turned her gaze to Brent’s living room, to squashy chocolate leather sofas and chairs and long rows of magazines lined up like soldiers across a set of three coffee tables.

There were neat stacks of library books set exactly so, and other books and pieces of paper arranged carefully all through the area and beside armchairs positioned around the room.

‘I see you like to bring your work home, and you’re very orderly.’ Was this why he had rushed her past the area? Because there was something quite different about the way he’d laid out all that work?

His office space was similarly regimented, and it was different.

He rubbed his hand over the back of his head. ‘I sometimes have to work on projects until they’re finished, whether that means bringing things home or not. Once I get started, I get very focused and I can’t stop. I’ve always been that way. Some people…find that objectionable but it’s how I am. Core me. It’s not something that’s going to change.’

‘Nor should it.’ If he changed, he might lose some of the intensity that made his work what it was. Why on earth would he even consider such a possibility—? ‘I imagine there’ll be times when I’ll do the same. Get deeply involved in the work, I mean.’

He shifted on his feet, passed his empty coffee cup from hand to hand.

‘It’s time I went.’ One part of her didn’t want to leave, wanted to stay in his company longer.

To talk about work issues, she told herself. Instead, she put her empty cup down on the counter top and made her way towards the front door.

‘I enjoyed our talk this evening.’ Brent paced beside her. His words brought them back to business, and of course that was a good thing.

As she approached the door she noticed the photomontage on the wall. It was positioned so it would be the last thing he looked at as he left his home each day.

Photos of him and his brothers.

Fiona looked, and looked again. And the story embedded in those images hit her so deeply her breath stalled in her throat and for a long moment she couldn’t speak. She simply stood there, unable to shift her gaze.

When she finally found her voice it wasn’t to state the obvious. Not, You were all institutionalised. Or, There are no parents, are there? At least not for a very long time. Or, You’re not biologically related.

But, oh, they had created themselves into a family, first in that cold building in the background of several of the pictures, and later as they’d found their freedom and relocated here.

They were three men who’d become men before their time, and had stood up for each other. It was all there, captured in the stark stares and guarded expressions of young boys and the determination of young men, and the laughter and wry smiles and inner shields of the men they were now.

How had they all ended up alone? Parentless? In Brent’s case, extremely private, and she imagined the others had their issues with privacy, too. Just look at where they all lived.

His brothers must have changed their names through legal channels, or perhaps they’d all chosen the last name MacKay and adopted it at some point? ‘I thought from the beginning that you and your brothers were close. I hadn’t realised all the reasons why.’

Fiona didn’t have that closeness in her own family. It was a knowledge she lived with and tried not to think about. Right now it felt very blatant to her. Blatant and sad, and yet Brent and his brothers must have been through so much more. Indeed, the two things were incomparable.

‘We’re there for each other. The few people who’ve looked at those photos didn’t even realise—’ Brent opened the door.

‘That you’re a chosen family, not a “by birth” one?’ They were proof the former could be as strong as any example of the latter.

‘Yes. “Chosen” is the right word for it. For us, that’s better than where…we came from.’ He stepped out into the corridor with her. ‘I’ll see you back to your car.’

End of discussion, and fair enough. Though she might want to know more, he was a private man and this was obviously very private business to him.

They walked in silence. Moments later she stood beside her small car.

‘We have a meeting with a client at her home tomorrow.’ Brent rubbed his jaw with his hand. ‘It’s the troublesome client I told you about on Friday.’

Fiona mentally reviewed her wardrobe. ‘I’ll be ready for it.’

‘Perhaps between us we can get her to stop blocking the plans at every turn.’ Brent waited while she seated herself, and then he pushed her door closed.

She started the engine and rolled down the window.

He leaned in. ‘Drive safely. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Goodnight, Brent.’ He’d given her some things to think about. The family he had built and her questions about where he might have come from. His emotional guardedness. That regimented work lined up in his living room and in his office. The privacy he sought in his home and his work.

‘Goodnight,’ he murmured.

With a final wave and an odd reluctance to leave him, and with myriad questions flitting through her mind and no answers anywhere in sight, Fiona drove away.