‘Would it be so bad if I want to…support you?’
Greer exhaled, that jittery thrill dissolving. Protectiveness then. Nothing else.
‘I’m fine, Conall.’ Despite her best efforts her voice was flat and she looked down to see she was rubbing her finger in that nervous habit she’d acquired. ‘You don’t have to worry.’
A pause. ‘I enjoyed today, very much.’ His voice slowed and deepened so she felt his words like a warm eddying pool, low in her body. ‘I want to spend more time with you, Greer, and I don’t mean working.’
Did he hear her swift, indrawn breath?
Carefully she parsed his words, and still they soundedpersonal.
She’d dreamt of personal since the day she’d met him in the busy Perth office. His PA had left for family reasons and, Greer found out later, the temp filling in until the position was filled had struggled. Her manager had suggested Greer as a replacement, despite the fact her qualifications were in accounting.
She’d knocked on Conall’s door and he’d looked up from his desk, smiling. It had felt like a lightning bolt blasting through her body and soldering her feet to the polished floor.
Working together had turned that initial blast of attraction into something deeper. Conall might be a workaholic, but he was considerate, fair, appreciated her efforts and had a lurking sense of humour she found irresistible.
Greer drew a slow breath and found her voice. ‘I’d like that too. But I can’t tomorrow.’
The words shocked her. She wanted to snatch them back. Yet she knew they were right.
It would be nice to think she’d refused out of innate decency after rejecting Matt’s invitation. Or because she’d decided to look for a partner elsewhere.
Instead, she wondered if she were making some obscure point. She’d always been available to work whatever hours Conall needed. When he’d called early today, on her day off, she hadn’t hesitated to see him. Her working life revolved around his needs. She needed to make a demarcation from work. Make it clear he couldn’t take her for granted.
That didn’t stop an inner voice howling that she was an idiot for saying no.
‘You have something on? Another commitment?’
She heard tension in those four words but realised that was imagination, a reflection of her own stress. She yearned to say yes, so badly she tasted the salt tang of blood and discovered she’d bitten her lip.
You don’t have to explain anything.
Yet she heard herself saying, ‘Flats don’t clean themselves and I have errands to run.’
‘Fair enough.’ Did she hear relief in his voice? Now she reallywasimagining things. ‘How about later in the week? I can get tickets to the opera.’
‘The opera?’ She frowned. She knew little about opera, wasn’t even sure if she’d like it.
‘Yes. You mentioned wanting to attend months ago. You said someone had recommended attending a performance as a chance to see inside the Opera House.’
Greer frowned as something fluttered at the back of her mind. Something tantalising that she couldn’t quite grasp. A jovial, deep voice. Something about Mozart and staging and…views from the bar? She could almost hear herself saying she’d never seen an opera and a voice responding—
‘Greer, are you still there?’
She rubbed her forehead. As if that would stimulate her damaged brain into remembering! But it was gone, that half memory. Or maybe it wasn’t memory at all, just a wish that shedidremember, conjured by Conall’s words.
‘I’m here.’
She drew a deep breath then let it out. Hadn’t she told herself she had to get on with life? Even though she felt weirdly as if she were in limbo with those months missing from her memory.
Spending more time with Conall could be a disastrous mistake. But everything she’d done to conquer her crush on the man had failed.
Maybe it was time to be brave.
Pressing her palm against her thundering heart, she said for the second time today, ‘Thanks, Conall. I’d love to.’ It felt like taking a step into a thrilling unknown.
Chapter Four
