Her Impossible Boss Read Free Page A

been a little more driven when it came to a career.
    Nor did she have a great deal of respect for someone who put money at the top of their list. Someone, in short, like Matt Strickland. Even though she could appreciate that he was clever and ambitious, there was a hard, cutting edge to him that left her cold.
    She sneaked a quick look at that striking face, and her heart beat a little faster and a little harder in her chest.
    ‘You’re not saying anything. I take it that you disapprove of all of this?’ He gestured sweepingly with one hand. This was a woman, he realised, whose silenceswere as revealing as the things she said. It was a refreshing trait.
    ‘It’s all very comfortable.’ Tess tiptoed around telling him the absolute truth—which was that expensive furnishings and investment paintings all came at a price.
    ‘But…?’
    ‘I prefer small and cosy,’ she admitted. ‘My parents’ house is small and cosy. Obviously, not
that
small. There were five of us growing up. But I think that their entire house would fit into just a bit of this apartment.’
    ‘You still live at home with them?’ His sharp ears had picked up on the intonation in her voice and his curiosity was instantly roused. What was a twenty-three-year-old woman still doing living at home? And, he noted distractedly, a strikingly pretty twenty-three-year-old girl? Huge green eyes dominated a heart-shaped face that even in moments of thought carried an air of animation. Her long hair was the colour of caramel, and.
    His eyes drifted lazily downwards to the full breasts pushing lushly against a small cropped vest, the silver of flat stomach just visible between the vest and the faded jeans that moulded slim legs.
    Annoyed at being distracted, Matt stood up and began to prowl through his office. Originally a library, it was still dominated by the hand-made wooden bookcase that stretched along the entire length of the back wall. A rich Oriental rug, handed down through the generations, covered most of the wooden floor. The only modern introductions were the paintings on the walls and, of course, the high-tech paraphernalia essential to his work.
    ‘I…at the moment I do,’ Tess mumbled, with sudden awkward embarrassment.
    ‘And you’ve
never
lived on your own?’
    The incredulity in his voice made her spin round to glare at him defensively. She decided that he really was truly hateful. Hateful and judgemental.
    ‘There was never a need for me to live on my own!’ she said in a high pitched voice. ‘I didn’t go to university, and there was no point looking for somewhere to rent when it was just as convenient for me to carry on living at home.’ As if it were spelt out in bold neon lettering, she was appalled to hear with her own ears just how hopeless that made her sound. Twenty-three and still living with Mum and Dad. Angry tears threatened to push their way to the surface and she blinked rapidly, forcing them back.
    ‘Remarkable.’
    ‘Most of my friends still live at home. It’s not that remarkable.’
    ‘And you never felt the need to spread your wings and do something different? Or did you give up and wave the white flag before you could get around to challenging yourself?’
    Tess was shocked at the strength of her reaction. She had never shown any inclination towards violence before, but she could easily have leapt out of her chair and thrown something at him. Instead, she subsided into angry silence. Her entire nervous system picked up pace as he circled her and then leant down, arms on either side of her chair, effectively caging her in.
    ‘I don’t see what my home life has to do with thisjob,’ she breathed jerkily, looking anywhere but at the brown muscular forearms on either side of her.
    ‘I’m trying to get a measure of you as a person. You’re going to be responsible for the welfare of my daughter. You come with no references from a professional agency. I need to find out that you’re not going to prove a