Page 8 of The Boss's Stolen Bride

‘No?’ Too bad. Elias wasn’t letting her walk in there alone. He got out of the car and matched her steps. With every one his disapproval grew. Why did she live in such a run-down, unsafe area? That Olly had never told him where she lived made him inexplicably angry. He’d have done something about it. He stood beside her, clamping his jaw to stop his annoyance unleashing as he followed her up the stairs and watched her unlock the door. He moved inside before she could stop him. And then he stared and all the anger that he’d thought he’d got back under his control emerged again.

‘Do I not pay you enough, Darcie?’ he asked softly.

It wasn’t even a flat. It was a sparse and uncomfortable bedsit with a narrow bed, no sofa, no oven, just two hobs that didn’t look like they’d been used recently. Her clothing hung neatly on a wooden stand. The grey trousers and white blouses that were so familiar to him and somehow made him even more annoyed.

‘What do you wear to relax?’ he muttered beneath his breath.

Of course the room was so small that she heard. She shot him a look. Right. Shedidn’trelax. She worked all the hours for him. She was always willing to accept an extra project. He didn’t even ask anymore; he just handed them to her because he knew she’d get it done. And he’d paid her more than enough, of course. But this was such a small place in a hellish part of town so what was she doing with the pay cheque? Was there debt? Yet he couldn’t see how she’d accrued any because she’d not got tertiary qualifications until she’d started working for him. So then what? Why?

Far too late he realised he didn’t know anywhere near enough about her. And he didn’t like it. So that was going to change.

He caught sight of her travel bag tucked under the small fold-up table and grabbed it.

‘What are you doing?’ Darcie asked.

‘What you want,’ he replied coolly, hefting the bag in his hand and opening the door for her. ‘We’re getting married in Vegas, Darcie. And we’re going there now.’

CHAPTER FOUR

DARCIEDIDN’TKNOWWHERE—or how—to start. They’d been on this plane for half a day already and Elias hadn’t asked her again if she was serious or why she needed to get married. He’d simply acted on her demand and remained silent ever since. She’d been angry and shocked but now she was too scared to say anything in case he changed his mind. In case she woke up—because this had to be a dream, right? Because every so often she glanced across the aisle and caught him watching her and he had the oddest expression in his eyes. Ordinarily Elias was cool and focused and seemingly devoid of emotion. But right now? It looked strangely likeamusement. But that just couldn’t be right.

As usual they sat on opposite sides of his luxurious private jet, diagonally facing each other in the roomy reclining chairs. His legs were stretched out and apparently he was reading, as was his custom, but she was aware he hadn’t turned the page in nearly twenty minutes.

She stared at the cover of the book. She’d found one like it on one of the first flights she’d taken in his private jet and had thought it belonged to the pilot. But it had been Elias’s reading material for the flight. Not a report, or business journal, but science fiction. The guy read stories of survival in extreme, hostile, other planetary environments. Escaping from this world right here. She didn’t understand why he had to. Because Elias’s world was perfect, wasn’t it?

He had a level of excellence everyone around him was expected to meet and he didn’t ever let emotions get in the way. He didn’t respond to emotional outbursts, either. Unmoved and impervious, he didn’t flare with anger but simply turned away as if he had some inner force field repelling emotional manipulation. If an employee disappointed, they were dismissed. Initially from the room. Ultimately—if the disappointments were repeated—from the firm. There was no volatility or raging; he just had barriers. Though she’d never thought he was cold, nor careless, justcontrolled. He didn’t have the time for hysterics or anger. Or even—she sometimes thought—enjoyment. The only outward satisfaction she’d ever seen upon the successful signing of a deal was little more than a nod. He’d put a tab on a bar for his employees to splurge, occasionally he bothered to show, but if he did he’d barely have one drink and then leave. His mind was always already on the next deal.

Or the date no doubt waiting for him.

Yeah, there were the women. Or there had been. But they never lasted and there’d not been many in recent months. Okay, any. And yes, she was tragic for knowing that.

But what he was, was a workaholic. She really didn’t understand why because surely he was wealthy enough. Yet no one worked harder than he did. Not even her. And every one of his employees was stupid keen to impress him. Herself included. She didn’t know why it mattered so much, only that it did. And it was daft because she deeply knew how impossible it was to please people. It didn’t matter what else you did, you only had to make one mistake and it was all over. And today Darcie Milne had made a massive mistake. One she had to address. Soon. Absently she rubbed her wrist. She still felt the warmth and weight of his hand on her skin.

She shivered at the memory and muttered her thoughts before thinking better of it. ‘Are we really going to Las Vegas?’

‘I was flying to the States anyway,’ he drawled. ‘This is simply a sidebar on that journey.’

She stiffened at his uncharacteristically sardonic tone. ‘So glad it’s not an inconvenience.’

Elias actually chuckled.

Darcie had to grit her teeth to stop her jaw falling open. This really wasamusingto him? When was Eliaseveramused by anything she said? As she stared at him, she saw challenge build in his eyes. He was waiting for her to say something more.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Becausethistime she thought first. She remembered what was most important. Lily. She had to focus on Lily. Because if there was the slightest chance Elias would follow through on his mad proposal, she had to take it.

Elias sprawled back in his seat, disappointed that Darcie hadn’t said anything more and wondering what on earth had happened to get her to this level of desperate. Anyone else and he’d be confident about getting to the bottom of whatever the problem was in minutes—and equally certain it wouldn’t be anything requiring a remedy as drastic as marriage. He could find other solutions to all kind of problems without breaking a sweat. But this was Darcie and he knew her attention to detail. If Darcie felt it was imperative to get married, then it was imperative. Sowhydid she need to be wed so swiftly? When was a marriage ever a ‘life and death’ situation? His imagination ran riot. Was there some stalker she was hiding from? Was it a shotgun wedding—was shepregnant? He almost growled. Not to that guy, she wasn’t, so if she was pregnant, then to who?

Come upstairs with me?

Something in his veins simmered at the echo of a hesitantly whispered question. Wasthatwhy she’d flirted with him so abominably the other week? Was she desperate to find a father for her unplanned pregnancy? He had to count to ten before he could breathe again. Now his curiosity wasn’t just eating him up—his conjecture was growing wilder by the second.

But as much as he wanted to, he refused to ask her right now. She’d never spoken to him like that before. But before, she was his employee. Now he was no longer her boss and he couldn’t order her about. He would wait until she was ready to speak to him. He wanted her towantto speak to him. And right now she clearly didn’t.

During a flight like this Darcie would usually work through her checklist, making sure all the deal preparations were in place while Elias read because he was usually ready. But he wasn’t ready today. He was astonished to realise that not only had he not thought about the Williams deal in hours, he had zero concentration to give it now and even more shockingly didn’t give a damn. Because his curiosity ran unabated. He flicked through his files on his phone, accessing the résumé the temp agency had originally sent when they’d put Darcie forward for a position at his firm. But it didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know. He wanted tounderstandDarcie, and it was a shock to realise he knew nothing of actual substance about her. Nothing personal.

Fancy cheese. Yeah, that was about it. He knew she liked fancy cheese. Because at one event early on in her employment he’d watched from a distance as she’d surreptitiously sneaked a piece of soft brie from the buffet table at the back of the room. Her reaction had been both gorgeous and gauche. He’d kept watching, wryly amused as she’d tried so hard—and failed—to resist sneaking another. Then another. And then he remembered that working late one night a few weeks later he’d noticed her growing pallor and it dawned on him—belatedly—that she’d not eaten. He’d been on an adrenaline rush and forgotten about food, plus he was supposed to have a late dinner date. But Darcie had had nothing. He’d gone to the office fridge and found some cheese and watched the colour return to her cheeks. Her deep inhalation, her sigh of contentment, her appetitesatisfied...he’d got inexplicably angry.

‘Why didn’t you tell me you hadn’t eaten?’ he’d challenged her. ‘Why didn’t you complain?’

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