‘Are you ready for the rest of it?’ His tone was light, testament to those years in his father’s house, learning to conceal thoughts and, above all, feelings. And later, starting up his own enterprise, conscious that half the battle in business was appearing and sounding confident, no matter how he felt.
‘I wouldn’t miss it. Thank you for tonight. This is just…marvellous.’
He lifted his glass, clinking it against hers before taking a long swallow. ‘I can’t take all the credit. Mozart deserves some.’
She smiled then sipped her wine and he had to avert his gaze as she swallowed.
There shouldn’t be anything sexy about the movement but with Greer, none of the usual rules applied. Especially when she was wearing that dress. The short glittery blue one with the neckline scooped low to the shadowy cleft between her breasts. That left her arms and most her shoulders bare.
He could only be grateful she had no idea how the sight of her wearing it affected him.
‘That’s the other thing,’ she confided, her tone ebullient. ‘The tunes are glorious. I hadn’t expected that. I thought they’d all be serious, but I’ll be humming them tomorrow.’
Her frank approval pleased him. He’d lost count of the gala music events he’d attended and never had he encountered such honest enthusiasm.
From the time Conall’s father had brought him to live with him he, like his older half-siblings, had been given the best of everything. The best schools, though he’d hated boarding school with a passion. Access to the finest art, music and sporting events. Even tutoring by professional sportsmen, paid a ridiculous amount to cultivate his skills in polo, tennis and yachting.
Had he become blasé? Of course. But never around Greer.
She grounded him. Yet something about her had always urged him to go that extra mile, imagining possibilities that once he’d never have considered.
But as far as she was concerned, he was simply her boss and he was wary of pushing hard for more. Her accident, her sudden vulnerability, haunted every interaction.
For so long he’d thought of her as indomitable. Yet despite her protestations, she wasn’t fully recovered. The doctors didn’t know if or when her memory would return. At the same time other men were trying to win her interest! Never had he walked such a fine line. He wanted to keep her close, surrounded bykeep offsigns. But he couldn’t spook her by appearing too obviously possessive.
‘I’m sure Mozart would have approved.’ He put his glass down and resisted the temptation to hold his arm out for Greer to take. ‘Shall we go?’
Through the rest of the performance, Conall was only partly aware of what happened onstage. His attention was on the woman beside him. Her occasional sighs of appreciation. Her perfume, her warm, womanly beauty.
And, as ever, the imperative to hide his own response.
Conall had been quiet since leaving the Opera House. Distracted. Greer knew the signs. He had something on his mind. The Singapore deal? The delay in getting exactly the right people for the rest of the Sydney positions? Or something she didn’t know about?
Face it, despite the hours you spend with him, you know virtually nothing about his personal life. You don’t even know if he has a girlfriend at the moment.
A sudden, dragging sensation in the pit of her stomach made her gasp.
‘Sorry, Greer. Did you say something?’
She shook her head, turning away from the city lights visible through the car’s window to look at his profile. Her gaze traced the strong angle of his jaw, the proud lines of his cheekbone and nose. Even in the gloom she could pinpoint the precise place where a long dimple would carve his cheek if something amused him.
Greer shivered as an overwhelming sense of intimacy enveloped her. ‘No, nothing at all.’
She could get used to this, she realised with a throb of desperate understanding. Sharing his space in the darkness, away from work responsibilities. Here she could pretend they were simply a man and woman enjoying an evening together.
Not her boss taking her out because he was concerned for her mental well-being.
The people at work, the ones on the next floor whom she’d only got to know again in the past couple of weeks, had been shocked and curious to hear of her memory loss. But they were either busy with their work or totally lacking in imagination. None of them seemed to have guessed how unnerving it was, trying to pick up a life only partly remembered.
Only Conall realised, going out of his way to watch out for her.
She should have told her couple of good friends in Perth, but she’d avoided it so far. She’d have to tell them sometime, but the thought of going through it all via long-distance calls deterred her. She kept hoping she’d wake one morning to discover the amnesia gone. Besides, they were busy with their own challenging careers.
‘Here we are.’ Conall turned into the private parking for her building. ‘I’ll see you up.’
The sensible thing would be to thank him but reject his offer.
Greer didn’t feel sensible. Music danced in her head, as light and frothy as the bubbles in tonight’s sparkling wine. The warm evening air caressed her bare arms and she was tinglingly attuned to the strong, charismatic man beside her.
