“Grace, you’re obviously the perfect assistant to be lost with in the outback.”
Grace looked at her hand, which had practically disappeared inside his strong grasp. “If only I was also willing,” she muttered, snatching her hand away. And then she grimaced. He’d caught her off guard and now she’d let fly with a hopelessly stupid remark.
“Willing?” Mitch remained standing directly in front of her, a perplexed expression in his eyes.
“Please, forget I said that.”
He smiled and brushed the hair back from her cheek. “A wild and willing Grace would be an unexpected bonus.” Then his face grew serious again. “But it won’t get us out of here.”
Barbara Hannay was born in Sydney, Australia, educated in Brisbane and spent most of her adult life living in tropical north Queensland, where she and her husband have raised four children. While she has enjoyed many happy times camping and canoeing in the bush, she also delights in an urban lifestyle—chamber music, contemporary dance, movies and dining out. An English teacher, she has always loved writing, and now, by having her stories published, she is living her most cherished fantasy.
Books by Barbara Hannay
HARLEQUIN ROMANCE®
3578—OUTBACK WIFE AND MOTHER
3613—THE WEDDING COUNTDOWN
3664—CHARLOTTE’S CHOICE*
Outback with the Boss
Barbara Hannay
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
GRACE ROBBINS reached into her carryall and reluctantly drew out her black lace lingerie. Nervously, her fingers traced the delicate ribbon trim while she wondered how on earth she could go ahead with Maria’s outrageous suggestion. Until now, she’d only ever worn these revealing garments under her faithful ‘little black dress’. She’d never considered displaying her low-cut underwired bra and high-cut wispy knickers on their own.
‘The problem is you’re a natural prude,‘ Grace told her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t enjoy parading in front of a man. Wearing a bikini on the beach was bad enough.
She sighed. Perhaps the solution was to take this one step at a time. She’d already let herself into her boyfriend’s flat. If she put the underwear on beneath her other clothes for now, she could decide whether to go ahead with the rest of her friend’s crazy plan later.
Halfway through this process, Grace paused and studied her image in the full-length mirror. The dramatic effect of her body, framed by a doorway and encased in nothing but skimpy, sensuous black lace, was surprising. Maria was probably right. It would take Henry by surprise too.
But how on earth could she carry this off? And if she did, what could she possibly say to justify such madness?
She sent the mirror a grimacing grin and tried striking a sexy pose, announcing to the empty room, ‘Ta-da! National Underwear Display Day!’
No, she thought with a shudder. She looked and sounded ridiculous.
She tried another, more demure pose. ‘I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours?‘ Definitely not.
Oh, heavens, thought Grace, why am I even bothering? This just isn’t me. Bringing her hands to her face in mock horror, she tried one more time. ‘Henry, the little black dress thieves have struck and left me with nothing to wear!’
Groaning, she decided it was absolutely no use. Playing femme fatale was definitely not her scene. She couldn’t ever make this work.
Grace glanced at the clock on the dressing table and decided there was no need to panic just yet. She still had at least an hour before Henry would return. She had to think this through calmly and rationally.
She grimaced. Calmly and rationally? She hadn’t been able to place one logical thought next to another for days. Her fists clenched. It was all Mitch Wentworth’s fault! The new boss had forced her into this pickle!
For the past fortnight, just thinking about Mitch Wentworth’s arrival to take over the company had seemed to banish every composed and sane idea from Grace’s usually clear-thinking head. And it was her fuming and fretting about this man that had launched Maria’s lame-brained idea in the first place.
The whole wild plan had started at lunchtime when Maria had rested her plump elbows on the cafeteria table, and leaned towards Grace with her best lecturing expression. ‘For goodness’ sake,’ she’d sighed. ‘Stop stewing about Mitch Wentworth and concentrate on the bonuses. Our new boss is a stud! He’s flying in to take over Tropicana Films any day now, and as you’re his assistant you get to work side by side with him. Did you see his photo on the cover of Movie Mag?’
Out of her voluminous handbag, Maria had dragged a glossy magazine and tossed it onto the red laminated tabletop.
‘Of course I’ve seen it,’ Grace had retorted, her nose crinkling in disgust. ‘I took one look at his self-satisfied smirk and the bimbos hanging off each arm and wanted to hand in my resignation, pronto.’
‘Self-satisfied smirk?’ Maria’s dark eyes twinkled with tolerant disbelief. ‘Come on, that’s a really cute smile in anyone’s books. Mitch is the ultimate in T. D. and H.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Tall, dark and hard to get.’
Grace’s lips had pursed into a tight circle as she’d pushed the magazine aside. ‘I’m sure, in his case, it’ll be tall, dark and hard to please. Working for him will be awful.’
Maria threw her arms in the air. ‘Half the women in the movie industry would be lining up for your job just to breathe the same air as Mitch Wentworth.’