The Boss's Bedroom Agenda. Nicola Marsh
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‘The staff cafeteria’s that way too.’
He grinned, somewhat satisfied to see her flustered as she gripped her bag tighter.
With a dismissive shrug, she set off in the opposite direction. ‘I’ve always had a lousy sense of direction.’
‘Well, I expect you to get up to speed pretty quick around here. After all, how do you expect to take tours if you need a map and a compass yourself?’
‘I’ll be fine.’ Some of her earlier pluck returned as she tilted her chin in the air to send him a glare. ‘Thanks for the welcome, but it’s time I started my new job.’
He couldn’t help but smile at her confidence, eager to return to his office and check out her résumé again.
Either his father was losing his touch at reading people or there was a lot more to their newest tour guide than met the eye.
‘I hear the boss is a compulsive clock-watcher.’
With that parting comment she waltzed away, looking way too appealing in that snazzy suit, the tight skirt with a little flare grazing her knees leaving him with an unimpeded view of those sensational legs.
Oh, yeah, he definitely needed to read up on his newest employee.
Anyone who could wear shoes like that on her first day and not be intimidated by him was worth watching and he had every intention of keeping a close eye on her.
Very close.
CHAPTER TWO
‘COULD this place be any bigger?’
Beth muttered under her breath, scanning the endless corridor for a sign of the Australia Gallery.
She’d been the length and breadth of the rabbit warren of corridors, following the clearly marked signs, but had somehow ended up in the dinosaur room, the creepy crawly room and the reptile room without a glimmer of Australiana in sight.
‘Can I help you?’
Beth inwardly groaned. Just what she needed, someone else pulling her up for being late or lost when she should know her way around here.
Fixing a smile on her face, she turned towards the tentative voice. ‘Actually, you can. This is my first day on the job and I was a bit frazzled after the interview when I got the grand tour and can’t seem to find the Australia Gallery.’
The young woman’s bemused expression spoke volumes. She obviously thought the new tour guide was a brainless bimbo.
‘I’m heading that way myself.’
‘Great.’
She fell into step with the woman whose name badge had ‘Dorothy’ typed in bold black print as she surreptitiously checked out Dorothy’s footwear for signs of sparkly red shoes—and was not in the least surprised when she found staid black flats instead.
‘I’m Beth, by the way.’
‘Dorothy. I’m a volunteer.’
‘You don’t get paid to be here?’
Jeez, she could think of any place she’d rather be if she wasn’t doing this for the stability factor. Steady job plus adequate funds equalled a lease on a small gallery to showcase her work and right now she needed that lease. She’d waited long enough to set her dream in motion.
‘I’m an archaeology student. I do this for a bit of extra experience.’ Dorothy’s brown eyes lit up for a moment, brightening her make-up-less face.
‘You must really love what you do.’
Dorothy nodded, her bobbing head setting her bun wobbling precariously atop her head. ‘And the opportunity to work alongside someone of Aidan Voss’s calibre was too good to pass up.’
Beth’s ears pricked up. She’d been so busy trying to find her way around this maze she’d deliberately pushed aside thoughts of her boss.
Guys who looked like Aidan Voss didn’t enter her sphere too often. The proverbial tall, dark and handsome seemed way too trite when describing his devastating looks. If it hadn’t been for the inch-long scar near his right eyebrow, he could’ve modelled rather than dig around old ruins and keep watch for recalcitrant tour guides.
‘So he’s good?’
Beth kept her tone casual despite the sudden urge to learn more about the guy with the sharp cheekbones, strong jaw, slate-grey eyes and hint of a dimple. Not that she’d memorised every detail of that striking face or anything.
Dorothy’s incredulous expression had Beth biting the inside of her cheek to prevent laughing out loud.
‘Good? He’s the best. Not only does he come from one of the most renowned historian families in Australia, he’s been responsible for several major finds around the world. Egypt, South America, Greece, you name it, he’s done it.’
A faint blush stained Dorothy’s pale cheeks and Beth had a feeling the boss’s good looks hadn’t gone completely unnoticed by the enthusiastic volunteer.
‘But surely you know all this? I would’ve thought the lure of working with a man like Mr Voss would be irresistible to anyone interested in this business?’
‘Oh, working with Mr Voss is irresistible all right.’
Beth’s memory worked down from that chiseled face to the way he’d filled out his charcoal suit, how his powder-blue business shirt had stretched taut across his chest and how he’d strutted rather than walked.
In those few minutes he’d hauled her up for being tardy she’d had the impression of a self-assured guy, a guy on top of his game, a guy who could turn a girl’s head without trying.
Not that he was her type. She preferred her men scruffier, less domineering, more casual, and the super-confident Aidan Voss definitely didn’t fit that bill.
Not that she should even consider him as any ‘type’. Lana would keel over and break her other ankle if she thought for one second Beth was sizing up their boss as ‘sexy guy’ material.
‘Well, here we are.’
‘Thanks,’ Beth said, momentarily distracted by thoughts of
Aidan as sexy and pulling up just in time to stop slamming into Dorothy’s ramrod-straight back.
‘I’ll be fine from here,’ she added, eager to get rid of the volunteer so she could start doing some serious exploring and familiarise herself with the room. Though she’d studied up on the museum and done some serious swotting with Lana, she couldn’t afford to make any more gaffs. Her job depended on it and, in turn, her ticket out of here and into her dream gallery.
Dorothy hesitated, toying with her name badge while a small frown creased her brow. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Sure.’ Beth hoped it wasn’t a question about Phar Lap’s location or where the authentic Neighbours set was.
‘Where did you get those amazing shoes?’
She laughed and wriggled her toes, still rueing her broken satin-toed pumps but delighting in her Manolos.
‘I’m hopeless with fashion and I’d kill to have a pair like that.’
Feeling decidedly like Professor Henry Higgins in My Fair Lady about to make over Eliza Doolittle, Beth said, ‘Why don’t we meet for lunch and I’ll let you in on all the best shoe shops in Melbourne?’
‘Great. See you in the cafeteria at one.’
Dorothy’s genuine smile was the first hint of real warmth she’d seen in the rather plain girl and as she watched her walk away in her brown trousers and matching jacket, with a prim cream blouse, severe hairstyle and not a skerrick of style, Beth