Australian Boss: Diamond Ring. Nikki Logan
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‘Oh!’ Her hand rose to splay over her chest. ‘I didn’t realise you were there. I was photographing the sunset. I’ve taken around two hundred photos today. Not all of them will be used, of course, but I think I’ve gained a good overview of what a team of people can achieve on a site in a single session. But please tell me I wasn’t muttering or singing while I worked.’
‘You were soundless, I promise. I didn’t want to disturb your concentration so I waited, that was all.’ Their fingers brushed as he reached to take the tripod from her.
Just that, and Brent’s focus slipped. He froze on that slip. Came to a complete stop with his fingers closed over Fiona’s. Only a beat of time passed before he moved his hand, but that one beat was a beat out of his control and that concerned him.
That Fiona now studied him with her head tipped to the side and curiosity stamped on her face bothered him more. There were certain things about him that he kept to himself. He’d learned from a master instructor that doing that was necessary.
Most of all it bothered him that this one woman set off in him things to do with his condition that very few other people could make happen, no matter how much they impacted on him. His need to protect his privacy about that rose even in the face of his awareness of her. It wasn’t a comfortable combination.
‘I think I got a couple of great shots just now.’ She glanced up into the branches of the lemon-scented gum tree that towered over them. ‘Ones with the light spearing down creating a dappled effect. I hope to base my painting on that concept.’
‘That’s good.’ His thumb rubbed over and over against a ridged edge on the tripod. Brent forced the movement to a stop. ‘I’m glad you got the material you wanted.’
‘It only took a little while, a bit of waiting for that perfect moment.’ Fiona seemed about to ask him something.
Brent braced, but her glance shifted around the vacant lot, past him, swung left and right and finally moved to the outside perimeter where all the work vehicles had been parked.
‘I guess maybe I took longer than I noticed. The work’s finished.’ She seemed chagrined. ‘They’ve all left. I was so focused on what I was doing that I didn’t notice. How long did I keep you waiting?’
‘Not long, and I didn’t mind waiting.’ He growled it in a tone that quite likely made her believe the opposite. The truth was, he’d got value out of watching her work. ‘If you’re done here, we can leave now.’
‘Yes. I’m done. Thanks.’ She hustled towards his utility truck.
Brent joined her, opened the passenger door for her and climbed in behind the wheel. ‘The office will be closed by the time we get back, but we’ll get anything from inside that you need. Then, if you’re not too tired, I’d like you to join Linc and Alex and me for dinner so they can hear your impressions of your first day on the job.’
They’d planned for this—to get Fiona’s impressions without giving her too long to think first and maybe fall back on more PC answers rather than simply giving her true impressions.
And it would be fine. Taking her to his brothers would be exactly what he needed to bring this—whatever it was that he experienced when he was near her—back into perspective.
It had probably just been too long since he’d spent time with a woman. There were always offers. They never meant anything more than what they were, and maybe he was starting to feel a little jaded about that.
Brent pushed the thought aside, because there was nothing else for him. And he wasn’t jaded, anyway. ‘Linc and Alex and I all hold shares in each others’ companies. So you’ll be reporting to all of us.’
‘I’d be happy to discuss the day with all of you. Actually, I’d like a chance to bat my reactions around with you, particularly.’ Fiona glanced down at her jeans. ‘I’m grubby, though.’
Brent drove into the traffic. ‘That won’t matter. We’ll be eating at home, and Linc and Alex know we’ll be coming straight from the site.’
‘Then I’m happy to come to dinner and “report in”.’ Fiona smiled. ‘Thanks.’
And Fiona was. Happy. Cheerful. Chatting about the other workers and Brent’s work projects generally as they made their way back to their suburb, where she collected her car from all day parking and followed him to his warehouse home.
‘It’s this way.’ Brent waited while Fiona exited her car in the large ground floor parking area and led her into the foyer of the converted warehouse building he and his brothers shared. It felt good to bring her into his home, and that was one more reaction he didn’t want to have to deal with.
Fiona stopped in the centre of the polished floor and her glance darted this way and that. ‘Oh. How gorgeous. And it’s so big and very private. I never imagined from the outside…’
‘That was what we hoped when we bought the place and converted it. An illusion of it being nothing special, but inside there’s space and…we know we’re not on display.’ He cleared his throat. ‘We like it, anyway.’
Brent laid his hand on the curved handcrafted staircase that led to the upper level, and watched her look her fill in this place where he felt…comfortable, where he owned his space.
One end of the foyer held a leather sofa and chairs. The art on the walls was bold and bright—blues and whites, yellows and greens and pinks on canvases large enough not to get lost on the huge walls.
Fiona’s gaze settled on those artworks for a long moment. Finally she said, ‘The colours and designs of those are fabulous. I don’t think I know the artist…’
‘Alex’ll be pleased you like his work.’ Brent was pleased. And proud. And way too conscious of her reactions altogether. ‘Let’s go find my brothers.’ He led the way up the staircase. ‘We all have separate homes within the warehouse. For tonight, we’re meeting in the courtyard area upstairs.’
‘I think it’s wonderful that you’re all so close.’ Her tone held a wistful edge she didn’t quite manage to conceal.
Yet she had a family, had referred to parents and sisters on the drive to the site this morning, and obviously, if they’d raised someone like Fiona, her parents must be special people.
Before Brent could consider that further, his guest made a beeline for the youngest of his brothers. ‘Alex. Your paintings are beautiful—’
‘Thanks.’ Alex turned from the barbecue with a modest smile and a wry twist of his mouth. ‘Brent brought your portfolio home over the weekend to show us. Your work is far better.’
‘Different,’ Fiona corrected. ‘Not necessarily better.’
Linc placed a bowl of salad on the long table. ‘Hiring a graphic designer was a big step for our brother. He’s accustomed to working his designs through on his own, but he felt the company was ready for it, that it would be a good thing.’
‘I hope it will prove to be.’ Fiona’s gaze encompassed all of them.
Brent glanced her way. ‘I’ve seen enough of Fiona’s work, and now seen her in action, to have no doubt I’ve made the right choice.’
At least she had managed that while she’d fought her reactions to this talented and complex man. And surely, in a day or two, when she’d settled into the job and become used to her employer, she would move past this consciousness of him.
‘I appreciate your faith in me, Brent.’ In truth it touched a deep place in Fiona’s heart that had been chilled the day she’d told her family she’d decided to follow her dream career, rather than the logical, safe one they’d steered her into when she’d first left high school at eighteen.
They’d been equally unenthusiastic when she’d phoned to say she’d landed this job and moved out here. She might as well have said