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But surely, with a woman as professional as Tilda, if she said yes, he’d have no problem keeping their relationship one hundred percent business. A green-card marriage was the only solution he could pull together before it was too late.
He had to try this last-ditch alternative. Down Under Thunder had a large piece of Warren’s pie and he wanted to crush the competition. Tilda was his magic bullet. He would convince her to stay, no matter what it took.
* * *
When Warren called Tilda back into his office later that day, she had to do a serious gut check to see if she’d gotten the wild swing of emotions under control. Thank God she hadn’t actually burst into tears in Warren’s office earlier.
That would have been highly unprofessional. Tilda relied on the aloof front she’d erected to prevent anyone from getting too close. Displaying the slightest vulnerability felt squicky.
Of course, it wasn’t any more professional to have a minibreakdown in her own office, either. Telling herself that hadn’t stopped the panic that had welled up right after her boss, Craig, had called to drop the news. Not only was her visa expiring, the firm had decided against getting it renewed. Too difficult a climate right now, too expensive, he’d said. Sorry about the mix-up, but she could have a job in Australia, no problem.
Except there was a problem…named Bryan McDermott, her ex-boyfriend who was evil personified, a man with police force clearance, friends in all the right places and zero conscience. He didn’t technically have the powers of God, but he sure put on a good enough show to make her believe he did. That’s why she’d left Melbourne. Why she could never go back.
This time, he might make good on his threat to kill her with his bare hands if he caught her with another man, never mind that they’d been broken up for over a year.
Okay, not doing so hot on getting her emotions under control. Warren was waiting on her to reappear in his office. There was no way he’d sorted out the procedure for renewing her visa in a couple of hours, though if anyone could do the impossible, it was Warren Garinger. He took no prisoners, left no stone unturned and put whip-wielding oxen drivers to shame in the motivation department. In other words, he was every inch the chief executive officer the plaque on his door claimed him to be.
She might have a little crush on him. Who could blame her? He was gorgeous, never hit on her and could buy and sell a man like Bryan before lunch. She was pretty sure Warren could clock her ex and easily be the one to walk away from the fight with nary a scratch.
What was wrong with her, that the ability of a man to cause bodily harm to another man turned her on?
Deep breath.
She stuck her head into his office. “You rang?”
Warren waved her in, clicking his laptop shut the moment she crossed the threshold. That was one quality that set him apart. He never multitasked, except in his head. His brain worked in fascinating ways she could scarcely comprehend, describing the big picture as easily as he did the details many people overlooked.
She was going to miss him more than she’d let herself admit.
“Sit, please,” Warren said. “We have much to discuss.”
As was his custom, Warren stayed behind his desk, keeping them separated by glass and wood. He never breached that space between them, never let his gaze stray to her nondescript suit, which displayed none of her assets by design.
That was another of his qualities she admired. Other men never seemed to understand that familiarity wasn’t easy for her. That she didn’t want a man anywhere close to her, not after Bryan. He’d been so successful at sucking away her confidence that the first time he’d smacked her across the face, he’d somehow spun it as being her fault.
The worst part wasn’t having abuse in her past. The worst part was when she woke up at 2:00 a.m. in a cold sweat because a small part of her might believe it was her fault Bryan had hit her. And she couldn’t exorcise that small part, no matter what she did.
She squared the tablet computer in her hands. “I’ve taken copious notes for my successor—”
“Not necessary.” Warren waved that off. “You’re not going anywhere.”
The wildest bloom of hope sprouted in her chest before she could stomp it flat. “You got Craig to agree to fix their screwup?”
Warren could sell hay to a farmer. Getting Tilda’s boss to admit he’d made a mistake had probably been child’s play.
But Warren waved that off, too. “No, of course not. You were right. Your boss is an ass who can’t be trusted with a box of animal crackers, let alone my campaign to expand in Australia. So I fired him and threatened to sic my lawyers on him if he so much as breathed the phrase cancellation clause.”
