He fumed as he watched Holly drive away.
Time to show Ms Stephens whoâs the boss.
On impulse, Jared decided to drive by Hollyâs condo. He told himself it was only a slight detour, worth it to see where the accountant-from-hell lived.
Heâd memorised both her addresses from her cv: the neatly typed home address and the handwritten address of the place she was staying right now. But even if he hadnât got it quite right, the yellow crime-scene tape across the front door and downstairs windows of the condo, incongruous in the upscale street, was a dead giveaway. There was no guard on the door, no one watching the property as far as he could tell. Looking at the darkened windows, Jared suddenly knew just how to annoy the hell out of Holly and at the same time solve her problem.
Just as sheâd asked â no, ordered â him not to.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Abby Gaines wrote her first romance novel â and had her first taste of rejection â in her teens. It took some years before she got up the courage to try again. By then, thankfully, the PC and Microsoft Word had been invented, and getting rejected was a whole lot easier. Like all good romances, Abbyâs story had a happy ending, and a new beginning, with the publication of this, her first novel.
Abby lives with her husband and children in an olive grove. She says olive trees are the perfect outlook to inspire the funny, tender romances she loves to write. Visit her at www.abbygaines. com.
Dear Reader,
Have you ever been one hundred percent certain you know someone and then discovered you were wrong? In The Rebel Tycoonâs OutrageousProposal, Holly Stephens knows exactly what kind of guy Jared Harding is: a rule-breaking bad boy. But when Jaredâs the only person who can help her, sheâs forced to put her trust in him â and to get to know him better than she ever wanted. Is it possible to be both right and wrong about someone? And to love them anyway?
Iâm always happy to hear from readers. Please e-mail me at [email protected] and tell me if you enjoyed this story.
Abby Gaines
www.abbygaines.com
With love and thanks to Mum and Dad,
who always knew I could. Thank you for teaching me what matters most.
Thanks to the FBIâs Seattle field office for the
patient responses to my many questions.
CHAPTER ONE
HOLLY STEPHENS had decided to be late for work, so late she would be. The later the better. She steadfastly refused to glance at her watch as she sat in Seattleâs rush-hour traffic, a chaos she usually avoided by starting early. Her old, uptight, anal-retentive self might want to know exactly how late she was, but the new, easygoing Holly Stephens didnât care.
She might even throw her watch in the trash when she got to the office. Or at least put it in a drawer for a couple of days.
Some folks might think being late for work didnât count when you were co-owner of the company. But anyone who made punctuality an art form, as Holly did, would know just how much it had cost her to lie in bed for an extra half hour. Dawdling as she got ready, making herself a proper breakfast, taking a longer route to work⦠Sheer agony.
But nowhere near as painful as being labeled Control Freak of the Year in a highly respected business magazine last week.
Even now, pain stabbed behind her ribs at the reporterâs hatchet job. It was supposed to have been one of those glowing profilesâHolly had recently been named Washington Businesswoman of the Year, an incredible accolade for a twenty-six-yearold accountant. And to be fair, the journalist hadnât stinted on reporting her accomplishments. But his sidebarâA Day in the Life of a Control Freakâhad detailed just how uptight, how controlling she was. Colleagues who called to congratulate her on the award studiously avoided all mention of the control-freak piece. But sooner or later each conversation reached an awkward silence, followed by a rush to get off the line.
She didnât blame them.
Because every word of that article was true. And now that she was forced to think about it, Holly didnât like what sheâd become.
Over the weekend, sheâd decided to let go of some of the behaviors that had served her so well in the battle to build her business in a competitive, male-dominated field. She would reinvent herself into a more relaxed, sympathetic person, one other people liked. One she liked.
Being late for work was a symbolic gesture of her resolve.
To her chagrin, relief fluttered inside her as she turned into the parking lot of the inappropriately named Greenglades Office Park. The flutter became a flapping of alarm when she saw the knot of people around the open doorway of the offices of Fletcher & Stephens, Certified Public Accountants. Surely her being late for work didnât warrant this much attention?
As she eased her Toyota into her parking space, Holly began sifting through potential explanations for the crowdâs evident fascination.
The most palatable was that her assistant, Lindaâs, overly romantic boyfriend had once again filled the office from floor to ceiling with balloons. Holly shuddered. It could take days for three hundred heart-shaped balloons to pop. Any suggestion of a mercy killingâattacking them all at once with a very large needleâwould be interpreted by Linda as a personal insult. And assistants who worked to Hollyâs level of detail were hard to find.â¦