A Bride For The Brooding Boss
Melting her boss’s frozen heart…Shy computer expert Lauren Taylor can handle any tech issue that comes her way – it's the clients she finds more challenging! Especially when she realises her new boss, brooding tycoon Matt Dalton, is the first man she ever kissed…Haunted by his parents’ infidelities, Matt’s mission was to save his ailing father’s company, then leave. Except Lauren’s compassion and sparkle has begun to melt his defences. He never planned on sticking around, but another earth-shattering kiss later, could Lauren give him a reason to stay?
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Melting her bossâs frozen heart...
Shy computer expert Lauren Taylor can handle any tech issueâitâs the clients she finds more challenging! Especially when she realizes her new boss, brooding tycoon Matt Dalton, is the first man she ever kissed...
Haunted by his parentsâ infidelities, Mattâs mission was to save his ailing fatherâs company, then leave. Except Laurenâs compassion begins to melt his defenses. He never planned on sticking around, but another earth-shattering kiss later, could Lauren give him a reason to stay?
9 to 5
Falling for the boss...
Theyâre working side by side, nine to five... But no matter how hard these couples try to keep their relationships strictly professional, romance is undeniably on the agenda!
But will a date in the office diary lead to an appointment at the altar?
Find out in this exciting series!
The Tycoonâs Reluctant Cinderella
by Therese Beharrie
Available now!
BELLA BUCANNON lives in a quiet northern suburb of Adelaide with her soul-mate husband, who loves and supports her in any endeavour. She enjoys walking, dining out and traveling. Bus tours or cruising with days at sea to relax, plot and write are top of her list. Apart from category romance, she also writes very short stories and poems for a local writing group. Bella believes joining RWA and SARA early in her writing journey was a major factor in her achievements.
To my special husband, whose extra help enabled me to conquer the challenge of a deadline.
To Brett for expert advice, once he and other friends had stopped laughing at the idea of technically inept Bellaâs heroine being a computer problem investigator. To the Paddocks Writing Group for support and encouragement, and to Flo for her advice and belief in me. My grateful thanks to you all.
Contents
LAUREN TAYLOR ALIGHTED from the taxi, smiling in surprise. A multi-storey glass and cement edifice had replaced the six-storey building with a bank at ground level she remembered from years ago.
Anticipation simmered through her veins. A rush job. Urgentâwhich usually meant challenging.
Her initial reaction to her employerâs Monday morning call had been to refuse. She had managed to squeeze in a much-needed week off and had planned on some âmeâ timeâseeing movies, reading in the park, aimless walking... The promise of an additional week on completion of the assignment, plus a bonus, had won her over. A few days of Adelaide in March wouldnât be too hard to take.
The flight delay at Sydney airport the next afternoon meant it was three oâclock by the time sheâd booked into her hotel and caught a taxi to the address. A quick phone call to a brusque Matthew Dalton raised some apprehension but he was the one with the critical dilemma.
Dalton Corporationâs reception area on the eighteenth floor suited the building. A patterned, tiled floor drew the eyes to a curved redwood desk and up to the company name, elaborately carved in black on a gold background. Sadly the lack of human presence, along with the almost complete silence, detracted from the impact. The three doors in her sight were all shut.
Scrolling for the contact number sheâd used earlier, she stopped at the sound of a crash from behind the second door along. Followed by a loud expletive in a womanâs voice.
Lauren knocked and opened the door.
A blonde woman stood leaning across a desk, her hands shifting through a pile of papers, a harassed face turned towards Lauren. A document tray and its previous contents lay scattered on the floor.
âYou want Mr Dalton.â Uttered as a hopeful statement. âSorry about this. Iâm usually more organised. Last door on the left. Knock and wait. Good luck.â
Her words heightened Laurenâs unease as she obeyed, instinctively smoothing down her hair before tapping on the door. The light flutter in her pulse at the raspy âCome inâ startled her. As did the unexpected allure in the deep guttural tone.
* * *
Without looking up, the man with a mobile held to his left ear gestured for her to enter and take the seat in front of his desk. Matthew Dalton was definitely under pressure. No jacket or tie, shirt unbuttoned at the top, and obviously raked through, thick chestnut-brown hair. He continued to write on a printed page in front of him, occasionally speaking in one-or two-word comments.
Lauren sat, frowning at the oblique angle of his huge desk to the wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling windows with an incredible view of the Adelaide Hills. Made of dark wood, it held only a desktop computer, keyboard, printer, land phone and stacked document trays. The only personal item was a plain blue coffee mug.
