Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Boss?. Nina Harrington
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Spanish but the hard reality of what they would be facing made her shudder.
But no sniffles allowed. Time to start living a bit. Right? That was what they’d agreed at some mad hour on New Year’s Day. A new start for both of them. Pity that Amy was insisting that a new boyfriend was part of the package.
Maybe turning twenty-seven was not so bad after all when she had friends like these in her life. So what if she didn’t have a mega career as a fine artist? She had something much better.
And somehow she knew that her father would understand that trying to scrape a living as a portrait painter had never been the life she wanted and never would be. That had been her father’s dearest wish, but it wasn’t hers. No. This portrait for Freya Elstrom would be the last. No more commissions as the last of the Baldoni family. It was time to say goodbye to foolish ideas like that and start focusing totally on her photography career.
Amy sashayed forward with a plate with a cupcake on and leant sideways and rested her head on Toni’s shoulder. ‘I stashed two of the red velvet specials, which I happen to know are your favourite, in the washing machine.’
‘Clever!’ Toni replied and popped a little finger loaded with creamy chocolate icing into her mouth and groaned in delight. ‘Delish. And have I said thank you yet again for arranging all of this? It’s amazing and I love it.’
Amy laughed out loud and gave her a one-armed hug. ‘Several times. It’s the wine, you know. Causes short-term memory loss in older women.’
Then Amy started rubbing her hands together and mumbling under her breath. ‘Now. Back to the important stuff. What totally outrageous thing have you decided to do while I’m away? Remember the rules—it has to be spontaneous, the opposite of what you would normally do, and fun! Points will be awarded for the most ingenious solution!’
‘Dance on the table? Toni suggested then shook her head and waved her arms around. ‘No. Forget that one. The table legs wouldn’t cope with my current body weight and this food is too good to waste. Something outrageous. Um...’
Then she looked over Amy’s shoulder back towards the door leading to the hallway and her breath caught in her throat.
Standing not ten feet away from her was one of the most remarkable-looking men that she had seen in her life.
She was five foot nine so he had to be at least six foot two, from his heavy working boots and quilted jacket to the black cap pulled low over long, crazily curled dirty blond hair.
Slim hips. Broad shoulders. Long legs.
Her gaze tracked up his body before the sensible part of her brain clicked in to stop it.
‘Oh, Amy—’ she breathed in a low hiss of appreciation ‘—I owe you big time.’
‘This is so true! But what particular thing have I done now?’ Amy replied between mouthfuls of cake.
‘You didn’t tell me that you hired a lumberjack male stripper.’
‘Who? What?’ Amy looked up and whirled her head around like a meerkat before it froze in the same direction Toni was focusing on.
‘Oh. I see what you mean,’ she said with a cough and started taking photographs with the small digital camera that Toni carried with her everywhere.
‘I have no idea who that is and he is nothing to do with me, but what are you waiting for? Go and find out who he belongs to and if he’s available—nab him for yourself before any of the other gals do.’
And with that Amy pranced off towards her friends in her frilly lace-trimmed corset, which was going to be of zero value on an archaeological excavation in the Andes.
Leaning against the door frame, the mystery man didn’t move an inch. The very tall, very rugged, very cold-looking mystery man.
He was a fashion stylist’s idea of what would pass for an Indiana Jones style adventurer—after the action. In fact she would go so far as to say that he was quite scruffy.
Conscious that she was standing there ogling his long denim-clad legs, Toni’s gaze ratcheted up to his face just as he glanced in her direction. Blue eyes gazed at her so intently from under heavy dark blond eyebrows that she almost blushed under the fierce heat of that focus.
With cheekbones that sharp he could have passed for a male model if it was not for the heavy, definitely non-designer dirty blond and grey beard and the blue strapping that was bandaged around his right hand. His clothing was practical. Stained and well used. If this was a costume then it was entirely authentic!
He had not said one word to anyone but in those eyes and on that powerful face she recognised something very special. Confidence oozed out of every pore of this man’s body. He knew exactly who he was and what he wanted and what he was doing there.
That must be nice!
The way he simply leant against the door frame enjoying the view, as though he walked into a lingerie party every day of the week, screamed someone who was so totally comfortable in his own skin that it was sickening.
While she was dressed in a tiny purple satin push-up bra and matching shorts.
Oh, what? Not funny. So not funny.
Toni grabbed her kimono from the back of the sofa and pushed her arms into the sleeves faster than she’d thought possible!
Okay, some of these girls were used to wearing lingerie in front of the camera for a living, but she wasn’t. She didn’t like the idea that some stranger was standing there getting a good eyeful of a catwalk show.
Wait a minute. What the hell was he doing here? And who had invited him? Freya never said anything about having a boyfriend.
Perhaps he was just passing and someone left the door open!
‘Man alert!’ Toni cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, ‘Unaccompanied male in the room, girls!’
The screaming and squealing had to be heard to be believed.
Utter chaos erupted on all sides as the girls scattered to the wind, mostly upstairs to the bedrooms from the sound of it.
Righty. Time to sort this out.
Toni narrowed her eyes and pulled the edges of her kimono tighter together.
She tried to stomp over to the hulk but it was a tad tricky in feather mules so she ended up mincing across the room instead. Head high, chin forward.
And those blue eyes focused on every tiny step she took.
She cleared her throat and looked him straight in the eye.
‘Okay. You look like the kind of guy who likes straight talk. I’m Antonia Baldoni, house guest of Freya Elstrom. This—’ and she waved one hand towards the abandoned articles and some very odd bedroom toys ‘—is my birthday party. And you are?’
He moved slightly away from the wall to an almost upright position so that when he spoke the sound came from several inches above her head.
‘Tired. Hungry. Surprised. And delighted to make your acquaintance, Antonia Baldoni. House guest.’ He rolled back his shoulders and exhaled very slowly through his nose. ‘Strange. I’ve just come from Freya and she never mentioned anything about a house guest.’
There was a definite squeak and a giggle from behind Toni’s back and one side of this man’s mouth twitched just once before he breathed, ‘Make that house guests. And just when I thought this day could not get any more bizarre.’
‘You’ve just seen Freya?’ Toni looked at him with her eyes narrowed and her head tilted to one side. ‘Really? You have to forgive me, but I find that a little hard to believe. Freya was invited to my party tonight but sent her apologies from Italy. So. Perhaps it’s time for you to start talking before I throw you out. Let’s start with the big ones. Where exactly did you say you met Freya? And what are you doing here? And who are you?’
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