Surprise: Outback Proposal: Surprise: Outback Proposal. Sarah Mayberry
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And she was very afraid that she would do just that if she didn’t take him up on his offer. She needed capital to grow. That was the bottom line.
“Okay. I’m interested,” she said.
He smiled slowly. Suddenly she wished that her sister had never made her take a second look at him. Two weeks ago, he was a man, a human being like any other. Today, thanks to Rosie’s teen obsession, Lucy felt a distinct frisson race up her spine as she registered how very, very good-looking he was.
Again, so not appropriate. Especially given her situation and the offer he’d just put on the table.
“Great. Why don’t we meet on Sunday? That will give me time to get a preliminary offer drawn up. Rosetta will probably want to take a look at it, right?”
“Oh yeah. She’ll probably want to pat you down and ransack your house and run an FBI check on you,” Lucy said.
He smiled again. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”
He leaned across the table and held out his hand. She hesitated a second before taking it. His hand was warm and firm.
“To new beginnings,” he said.
She nodded, unable to speak for some reason while he held her with his dark gaze.
“We’d better get you on the road,” he said.
She followed him to the stall, feeling more than a little dazed. After what had happened with her sister’s offer of a loan, she knew it would be stupid to get too excited. So many things could go wrong. Dom could change his mind after he’d looked at the books. His lawyer or accountant might have objections. Anything could go wrong.
And yet a slow excitement was bubbling through her blood. If this came off, her problems were solved. She’d have the capital she needed to grow. She’d have a fighting chance to secure her and her baby’s future.
She closed her eyes for a minute.
Please, please, please let this happen.
She wasn’t quite sure who she talking to, but she hoped like hell they were listening. It was about time she scored a break.
CHAPTER FIVE
“YOU’RE NOT WEARING that,” Rosie said as Lucy loaded paperwork into her tote bag.
After two weeks of negotiations and discussions, she and Dom had signed a partnership contract the previous day. Lucy still couldn’t quite believe that her money problems were over. Well, not over, but at least in a holding pattern for a while. She had a chance now to do what she needed to grow her business. Which was what today’s lunch meeting with Dom was all about—planning for the future.
“Lovely. Thank you for the confidence boost,” Lucy said.
“I didn’t mean you look bad. You just look … ordinary,” Rosie said.
Lucy looked down at the plain black pants, black turleneck and black boots she was wearing. The pants were new, the first of her true pregnancy wardrobe. The turtleneck was old and would probably never look the same again after being stretched over her belly.
“I am ordinary,” she said dismissively.
“Why don’t you wear that red stretchy shirt? That always looks great with black.”
“It makes my boobs look huge.”
“Exactly,” Rosie said with a grin.
Lucy rolled her eyes. “You are seriously turning into a pimp. You need help.” She was only half joking—her sister’s continual comments about Dom were starting to wear her down.
“He asked you to lunch,” Rosie said.
“It’s a work meeting, not a date.”
“He likes you, Lucy. He flirts with you every time we see him. Yesterday, when we signed the contract, he even ordered you food from the bar without asking because he knows you get hungry all the time. How many more signs do you want that this man has the hots for you?”
“None. I just signed a partnership contract with him. I don’t want him to have the hots for me.” Lucy shook her head. “Why are we even having this conversation? He does not have the hots for me. He’s a nice guy. He’s considerate. He’s like that with all his customers. He’s like that with you.”
“He doesn’t look at me the way he looks at you,” Rosie said.
“And how does he look at me?” Lucy asked, hands on hips.
“Like he wants to take a bite out of you,” Rosie said. “Like a starving man looks at a feast.”
Lucy hooted with laughter.
“You are so deluded. Starving man, my ass. He’s newly divorced, he’s just spent six months traveling through Italy. He’s probably got women lined up around the block to throw themselves at him. There’s no way he’s interested in a five months pregnant woman. No. Way.”
“You’re nineteen weeks,” Rosie said a little sulkily. “Not quite five months.”
“Which means I’m only cow-like instead of elephant-like. You need to stop trying to live out your teen obsession through me.”
“It wasn’t an obsession,” Rosie said.
Lucy gave her a look.
“Okay, it was slightly obsessive. But that’s not why I want you to wear the red shirt. He’s a nice guy. I think he’d make a great father.”
Lucy stilled, the smile fading from her lips.
“I’m not looking for a father for my baby,” she said.
“Marcus isn’t going to help you carry the load, Lucy,” Rosie said.
Lucy eyed her sister steadily. She needed Rosie to understand that she couldn’t buy into the romantic fantasy she was spinning. She didn’t have the luxury to indulge those kinds of dreams anymore.
“I know you’re trying to help, but please can we stop it with the whole Dom-likes-me thing? He’s my business partner. All I want from him is hard graft and a cash injection. I don’t want him to like me. And I don’t want to like him. We’re business partners, and I need one of those much more than I need a man in my life. Even if that was an option that was on the table. Which it isn’t.”
For a moment Rosie looked as though she was going to object, then she sighed and shrugged a shoulder.
“Fine. Bury your head in the sand.”
Lucy palmed her car keys. “Thank you. You know how much I like it there.”
Dom had given her directions to his house in Carlton and she found it easily. A double-fronted terrace house, it was a pale cream color, the trim painted heritage green and red. Someone had placed terra-cotta planter boxes along the front edge of the front porch, but they were full of dirt and nothing else. She wondered if Dom’s ex-wife had been the gardener and felt sad for him. No one got married expecting it to end in divorce.
Warm air rushed out at her when he opened the door to her knock.
“Lucy. Come on in. I’m just finishing up the gnocchi dough,” he said.
She managed a greeting of some description, but she had no idea what she’d actually said. She was too busy reeling from the impact of Dominic Bianco in bare feet, well-worn jeans and a tight, dark gray T-shirt. His hair was ruffled and casual, his eyes warm.
He was so earthily, rawly sexy it took her breath away.
She barely noticed the polished hardwood floor beneath her feet or the ornate plasterwork on the cornices and ceiling as she followed him down the hall.
She gave herself a mental slap. She had no business being so aware of Dom as a man. It was ridiculous and counter-productive