“Flynn,” he found himself saying. “Call me Flynn. And I have another offer-slash-request to run past you as well.”
She blinked. How on earth hadn’t he noticed those eyes earlier?
“Which is…?”
“I have business in Munich later this month.”
“Munich? Munich in Germany?” She rubbed a hand against her chest as if to ease an ache there.
“The same. The business that calls me there is moving more quickly than originally anticipated so I find myself in a bit of a bind. I promised my PA that she could have several weeks leave over Christmas, you see?”
“Your PA?” Addie said.
He could tell she only asked from politeness and had no idea where he was going with this. He straightened. “Would you consider accompanying me to Munich and acting as my assistant for three or four weeks?”
Her jaw dropped.
Praise for Michelle Douglas:
“I loved the shimmering sensuality just beneath the surface. Author Michelle Douglas once again brings charm, innocence and romance with tenderness and blends them together spectacularly in this new story of hers.”
—Goodreads.com on ROAD TRIP WITH THE ELIGIBLE BACHELOR
“Douglas’s story is romantic, humorous and paced just right.”
—RT Book Reviews on BELLA’S IMPOSSIBLE BOSS
“Laughter, holiday charm and characters with depth make this an exceptional story.”
—RT Book Reviews on THE NANNY WHO SAVED CHRISTMAS
“Moving, heartwarming and absolutely impossible to put down, THE MAN WHO SAW HER BEAUTY is another stunning Michelle Douglas romance that’s going straight onto my keeper shelf!”
—CataRomance on THE MAN WHO SAW HER BEAUTY
At the age of eight MICHELLE DOUGLAS was asked what she wanted to be when she grew up. She answered, “A writer.” Years later she read an article about romance writing and thought, Ooh, that’ll be fun. She was right. When she’s not writing she can usually be found with her nose buried in a book. She is currently enrolled in an English Masters programme for the sole purpose of indulging her reading and writing habits further. She lives in a leafy suburb of Newcastle, on Australia’s east coast, with her own romantic hero—husband Greg, who is the inspiration behind all her happy endings.
Michelle would love you to visit her at her website: www.michelle-douglas.com.
To my Romance Authors’ Google Group—thank you, ladies, for your wisdom, your support and your friendship.
Contents
Cover
Introduction
Praise
Title Page
About the Author
Dedication
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Extract
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
ADDIE SAUNTERED DOWN to Bruce Augustus’s pen, keeping her head high and her limbs loose while her lungs cramped and her eyes stung. There was probably no one watching her, but just in case.
She rounded the corner of the pen where the galvanised iron shelter finally hid her from the homestead. Pressing the back of her hand to her mouth, she swung herself over the fence, upturned the feed bin, collapsed down onto it and finally gave way to the sobs that raked through her.
The huge Hereford stud bull—ex-stud bull, he’d been retired for a few years now—nuzzled her ear. She leant forward, wrapped her arms around him and cried into his massive shoulder. He just stood there, nuzzling her and giving off animal warmth and a measure of comfort. Eventually though he snorted and stamped a foot and Addie knew it was time to pull herself together.
She eased away to rest back against the wooden palings behind and scrubbed her hands down her face. ‘Sorry, Bruce Augustus, what a big cry baby you must think me.’
He lowered his head to her lap and she scratched her hands up his nose and around his ears the way he loved. He groaned and rocked into her slightly, but she wasn’t afraid. He might be twelve hundred pounds of brute animal strength, but he’d never hurt her. They’d been hanging out since she was eight years old. She’d cried with him when her mother had died two years ago. She’d cried with him when her father had died four months ago.
And she’d cried with him when her best friend, Robbie, had died.
She closed her eyes. Her head dropped. Robbie.
Finally she’d thought she’d be free to keep her promise to Robbie, had practically tasted the freedom of it on her tongue. But no. Flynn Mather in his perfect suit and with his perfectly cool—some might say cold—business manner had just presented his contract to them all. A contract with an insidious heartbreaking condition.
She stood and turned to survey the fields that rolled away in front of her, at the ranges way off to her right, and at the stands of ancient gum trees. She propped her arms on the fence and rested her chin on them. In early December in the Central West Tablelands of New South Wales, the grass was golden, the sky was an unending blue and the sun was fierce. She dashed away the perspiration that pricked her brow. ‘How long do you think Robbie would’ve given me to fulfil my promise, Bruce Augustus?’
Of course he didn’t answer.
She made herself smile—might as well practise out here where no one could see her. ‘The good news is we’ve found a buyer for Lorna Lee’s.’
A sigh juddered out of her. She and two of her neighbours had joined forces to sell their properties as a job lot. Frank and Jeannie were well past retirement age, while Eric and Lucy were spending so much time in Sydney for four-year-old Colin’s treatment their place was in danger of falling into wrack and ruin. Addie and her father had helped out all they could, but when her father had died it was all Addie could do to keep on top of things here at Lorna Lee’s. One person really did make that much of a difference. And when that person was gone...
She stared up at the sky and breathed deeply. No more crying today. Besides, she’d already cried buckets for her father.
She leant a shoulder against Bruce’s bulk. ‘So our gamble paid off.’ Putting the three properties together for sale had made it a more attractive venture for at least one buyer. Flynn Mather. ‘Your new owner is a hotshot businessman. He also has a cattle station in Queensland Channel country—huge apparently.’
Bruce Augustus snorted.
‘Don’t be like that. He knows his stuff. Says he wants to diversify his portfolio.’ She snorted then too. Who actually spoke like that? ‘And he plans to expand the breeding programme here.’ She practised another smile. ‘That’s good news, huh?’
The bull merely swished his tail, dislodging several enormous horseflies.
‘We have a buyer. I should be over the moon.’ She gripped the wooden paling until her knuckles turned white. ‘But you know what I’d really like to do?’ She glared at gorgeous golden fields. ‘I’d like to take that contract and tell him to shove it where the sun don’t shine.’
Bruce Augustus shook his head, dislodging the horse flies from his face. Addie grabbed the plastic swatter she’d hung on a nail by the fence and splattered both flies in one practised swat. Bruce Augustus didn’t even flinch. ‘That’s what I’d like to do with Flynn Mather’s contract.’
Two years! He’d demanded she stay here for two whole years to oversee the breeding programme and to train someone up. He’d made it a condition of that rotten contract.
A well of something dark and suffocating rose inside her. She swallowed. ‘That means spending Christmas here.’ She straightened and scowled. ‘No way! I’m not some indentured servant. I’m allowed to leave. I’m not spending Christmas on the farm!’
The anger drained out of her. She collapsed back onto the feed bin. ‘How am I going to stand it, Bruce? How am I going to cope with two more years in this godforsaken place, treading water while everyone else gets to live their dreams? When am I going to be allowed to follow my dreams?’
Robbie hadn’t lived her dreams. She’d died before her time. Leukaemia. But Addie had promised to live them for her. Dreams of travel. Dreams of adventure in exotic lands. They’d marked out routes on maps, made lists of must-see places, had kept records of not-to-be missed sights. They’d planned out in minute detail how they’d office temp in London, work the ski lifts in Switzerland and be barmaids in German beer halls. They’d teach English as a second language in Japan and save enough money to go trekking in Nepal. They’d even taken French and Japanese in high school as preparation. Robbie had become too sick to finish her studies, but on her better days Addie had done what she could to catch her up with the French—Robbie’s favourite.
But now...
But now Robbie was dead and Addie was stuck on the farm for another two years.
She dropped her head to her hands. ‘You know what I’m afraid of, Bruce Augustus? That I’ll never leave this place, that I’ll get trapped here, and that I won’t even have one adventure. I’m scared that I’ll get so lonely Aaron Frey will wear me down and before I know it I’ll find myself married with four kids and hating my life.’ And if that proved the case then Robbie should’ve been the one to live. Not her.
She glared at a bale of straw. ‘All I want is to see the world. Other than you, Bruce Augustus, there’s nothing I’ll miss from this place.’ Not now that her parents were dead. ‘Of course I’d come back to see you, and Molly Margaret and Roger Claudius and Donald Erasmus too. Goes without saying.’
She tried to battle the weariness that descended over her, the depression that had hovered over her since her father’s death.
‘If it were just me I’d tell Mather to take a hike, but it isn’t just me.’ She stood and dusted off her hands. Jeannie and Frank deserved to retire in comfort and ease. Little Colin with Down’s syndrome and all the associated health challenges that presented deserved a chance for as full a life as he could have, and his parents deserved the chance to focus on him without the worries of a farm plaguing them.
‘You’re right, Bruce. It’s time to time stop whining and suck it up.’ She couldn’t turn Flynn Mather away. Given the current economic climate there were no guarantees another buyer could be found—certainly not one willing to pay the asking price. Flynn hadn’t quibbled over that.
She let out a long slow breath. ‘The pity party’s over. I have a contract to sign.’ She kissed Bruce Augustus’s nose, vaulted the fence and set off towards the main house—chin up and shoulders back, whistling as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
* * *
Flynn watched Adelaide Ramsey saunter back towards the house. He rested his head against the corrugated iron of the shed and swore softly. Damn it all to hell!
Looking at her now, nobody would guess all she’d confided to her bull.
He moved around to glance in the pen. The bull eyeballed him and his head lowered. ‘Yeah, yeah, I’m the villain of the piece.’
One ear flicked forward. ‘The problem is, Bruce Augustus—’ What a name! ‘—I have plans for this place, big plans, and your mistress knows her stuff. She knows this place better than anyone on the planet.’ Her expertise would be key to his success here.
The bull snorted and Flynn shook his head. ‘I can’t believe I’m talking to a bull.’
When am I going to be allowed to follow my dreams?
It had been a cry from the heart. His chest tightened as if in a vice. He couldn’t afford to lose Addie and her expertise, but he didn’t traffic in other people’s misery either. He didn’t want her to feel trapped here. He scratched a hand through his hair. Was there something he could offer her to soften her disappointment, something that would make her want to stay?
His phone rang and the bull’s head reared back. Flynn knew enough about bulls to know it was time to beat a hasty retreat. He glanced at the caller ID as he moved away and lifted the phone to his ear with a grim smile, turning his steps towards the Ramsey homestead—his homestead once she signed the contract.
‘Hans, hello,’ he said to the lawyer.
‘Good news, Herr Mather. The will is due to go through probate in two weeks’ time. After that the premises you’re interested in will go on the market and you can bid for them.’
His heart beat hard. His smile turned grimmer. ‘Excellent news.’
‘I take it you will be in Munich for Christmas?’
‘Correct.’
I’m not spending Christmas on the farm!
Flynn straightened. ‘We’ll confer again soon.’
All I want is to see the world?
He snapped his cell phone shut and vaulted up the stairs to the veranda. Voices emerged from the front room.
‘Look, lass, we know you want to leave this place too. We can wait to see if another buyer shows interest.’
‘Don’t be silly, Frank.’ That was Adelaide. He recognised the low, rich tones of her voice. ‘Who knows if another buyer could be found, let alone when?’
‘Lucy, Colin and I need to leave as soon as it can be arranged. I know that sounds hard and I’m sorry, but...’
That was Eric Seymour. Flynn didn’t like the other man, but then he didn’t have a seriously ill child in need of surgery either. In the same circumstances he’d probably be just as ruthless.
You are that ruthless.
He pushed that thought away.
Eric spoke again. ‘If you decide to turn down Mather’s offer, Addie, then I’m going to insist you buy out my farm like you once offered to. I can’t wait any longer.’
The bank would lend her the necessary money. Flynn didn’t doubt that for a moment. But it’d put her in debt up to her eyeballs.
‘Don’t get your knickers in a knot, Eric. I intend to sign the contract. All of us here understand your situation and we don’t want to delay you a moment longer than necessary. We want the very best for Colin too. We’re behind you a hundred per cent.’
‘Lucy and I know that.’
‘But, love,’ Jeannie started.
Time to step in. Flynn strode across the veranda, making sure his footfalls echoed. He entered the front parlour. ‘I’m sorry. I had a couple of business calls to make.’
Addie opened her mouth, but he continued before she could speak. ‘I get the distinct impression, Ms Ramsey, that you’re not exactly thrilled with the prospect of being bound to Lorna Lee’s for the next two years?’
‘Addie,’ she said for what must’ve been the sixth time that day. ‘Please call me Addie.’ Although she tried to hide it, her eyes lit up in a way that had his heart beating hard. ‘Have you changed your mind about that condition?’
‘No.’
Her face fell.
His heart burned. ‘Obviously the offer of a very generous salary package hasn’t quite overcome your objections.’
‘Oh, I...’ She trailed off. She attempted what he suspected was a smile but it looked more like a grimace.
He held himself tall and taut. ‘So I’ve been mulling over some other bonuses that you might find more tempting and will, therefore, lead you to signing the contract without hesitation.’
She glanced at her neighbours, opened her mouth and then closed it again. ‘Oh?’
‘I want to make it clear that you won’t be confined here. It’s not necessary that you spend the entirety of the next seven hundred and thirty days chained to the farm.’
Her shoulders sagged.
‘You will be entitled to four weeks of annual leave a year. Would an annual business-class airfare to anywhere in the world, return of course, sweeten the deal for you? I will offer it for every year you work for me—whether that’s the two years stipulated in the contract or longer if you decide to stay on.’
Her jaw dropped. Her eyes widened, and he suddenly realised they were the most startling shade of brown he’d ever seen—warm amber with copper highlights that flared as if embers in a hearth fire. He stared, caught up in trying to define their colour even more precisely as Frank, Jeannie and Eric all started talking over the top of each other. Addie’s expression snapped closed as if the noise had brought her back to herself and he suddenly discovered he couldn’t read her expression at all.
She laughed and clapped her hands, and he was suddenly reminded of the way she’d whistled as she’d walked away from Bruce Augustus’s pen. ‘Where do I sign? Mr Mather, you have yourself a deal.’
‘Flynn,’ he found himself saying. ‘Call me Flynn.’
‘I have another offer slash request to run past you as well.’
She blinked. How on earth hadn’t he noticed those eyes earlier? ‘Which is?’
‘I have business in Munich later this month.’
‘Munich? Munich in Germany?’ She rubbed a hand against her chest as if to ease an ache there.
‘The same. The business that calls me there is moving more quickly than originally anticipated so I find myself in a bit of a bind. I promised my PA that she could have several weeks’ leave over Christmas, you see?’
‘Your PA?’ Addie said.
He could tell she only asked from politeness and had no idea where he was going with this. He straightened. ‘Would you consider accompanying me to Munich and acting as my assistant for three or four weeks?’
Her jaw dropped.
She wanted to say yes; he could see that.
She hauled her jaw back into place. ‘Why would you offer that position to me? I’ve never been a secretary before or even an office assistant.’
‘You keep all of the farm’s financial records. You put together the marketing and PR documents. You have a filing system that’s in good order. I don’t doubt you have the skills I need.’ To be perfectly frank what he needed was a lackey, an offsider, someone who would jump to do his bidding when it was asked of them.
‘Germany, love,’ Jeannie breathed. ‘What an adventure.’
Addie bit her lip and peered at him through narrowed eyes. ‘I expect I’d be on call twenty-four seven?’
‘Then you’d expect wrong. You’ll have plenty of time for sightseeing.’
Why didn’t she just say yes? Or wasn’t she used to good fortune dropping into her lap? If she didn’t want it there were at least five other people ready to jump at the chance to take her place.
‘I do have an ulterior motive,’ he said. ‘I want to learn all I can about Lorna Lee’s breeding programme. That means I’ll be spending a significant amount of time here over the course of the next two years. Once I’m up to speed I’ll know what changes to implement, where an injection of capital will be most beneficial...where to expand operations.’
She frowned. ‘Changes?’
He almost laughed at her proprietorial tone. ‘Changes,’ he repeated, keeping his voice firm. Once she signed the contract, and after the obligatory cooling-off period, the farm would be his. ‘As we’ll be working closely together over the next few months, Addie—’ he used the diminutive of her Christian name deliberately ‘—the sooner we get to know each other, the better.’
She stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. ‘You actually mean to be hands-on at Lorna Lee’s?’
It wasn’t his usual practice, but he’d taken one look at this property and a knot inside him had unravelled. Lorna Lee’s might, in fact, become his home base. ‘That’s right.’
She shook herself. ‘Okay, well, first things first. Let’s deal with the contract.’
That suited him just fine. He added in a clause outlining her new bonus before scrawling his signature at the bottom and moving across to the other side of the room.
Eric signed first. Frank and Jeannie added their signatures next. Jeannie held the pen out to Addie. She cast her eyes around the room once before taking the pen and adding her signature in turn.
Deal done.
Eric slapped his hat to his head. ‘I’m off to tell Lucy the good news. We plan to be gone just after Christmas.’
Both Frank and Addie nodded.
Jeannie patted Addie’s arm. ‘I’m overdue for my nanna nap, love. We’ll see you later. Why don’t you come over for dinner?’
‘Okay, thanks.’
Everyone left and as soon as the door closed behind them Addie’s shoulders slumped. Flynn swallowed, hoping she wasn’t going to cry again. He cleared his throat and her chin shot up and her shoulders pushed back. She swung around to face him. ‘You mentioned you wanted another tour of the property today too, right?’
He nodded. He’d specifically requested that she accompany him.
‘Would you like that tour now or do you have more business calls to make?’
She glanced at the cell phone he held. He stowed it away. Before he’d heard what he had at Bruce Augustus’s pen, he’d thought he had her pegged—a no-nonsense, competent country girl.
When am I going to be allowed to follow my dreams?
Other than a desire to see the world, what were her dreams?
He shook off the thought. Her dreams were none of his concern. All he wanted was to reconcile her to the contract she’d just signed. Once that was done she’d be a model employee. A problem solved. Then he could move forward with his plans for the place.
‘Now would be good if that suits you. I’d like to get changed first, though.’
She directed him to a spare bedroom, where he pulled on jeans, a T-shirt and riding boots.
When he returned, Addie glanced around and then her jaw dropped.
He frowned. ‘What?’
‘I just...’ She reddened. She dragged her gaze away. It returned a few seconds later. ‘I know you have a station in Channel country and all, but...heck, Flynn. Now you look like someone who could put in an honest day’s work.’
He stiffened. ‘You don’t believe honest work can be achieved in a suit?’
‘Sure it can.’ She didn’t sound convinced. ‘Just not the kind of work we do around here.’
Before he could quiz her further she led him out of the front door. ‘As you probably recall from the deeds to the properties, the Seymour farm extends from the boundary fence to the right of Lorna Lee’s while Frank and Jeannie’s extends in a wedge shape behind.’
He nodded. The individual farms shared an access road from the highway that led into the township of Mudgee, which was roughly twenty minutes away. There was another property to the eastern boundary of Lorna Lee’s. If it ever came onto the market he’d snap it up as well. But, at the moment, all up, he’d just acquired seven hundred acres of prime beef country.
‘The three individual farmhouses are of a similar size. I expect you’d like one of them as your home base if you mean to spend a lot of time here. Which one should I organise for you?’
He blinked. At the moment she was certainly no-nonsense and practical. ‘I want you to remain at the homestead here. You’re familiar with it and it’ll only create an unnecessary distraction to move you from it. I’ll base myself at the Marsh place.’ Frank and Jeannie’s. It was closer to Lorna Lee’s than the Seymour homestead. ‘Next year I’ll hire a foreman and a housekeeper—a husband and wife team ideally, so keep your ear to the ground. They can have the Seymour house. There are workers’ quarters if the need arises.’
* * *
He didn’t want her to move out of her family home? Addie couldn’t have said why, but a knot of tension eased out of her.
They talked business as they made their way over to the massive machinery shed. There’d been an itemised account of all farm equipment attached to the contract, but she went over it all again.
Because he wanted her to.
Because he was now her boss.
And because he’d held the promise of Munich out to her like a treasure of epic proportions and it shimmered in her mind like a mirage.
She glanced at his boots. ‘Were you hoping to ride around the property?’
‘I’d appreciate it if that could be arranged.’
‘Saddle up Banjo and Blossom,’ she told Logan, her lone farmhand. Correction. Flynn’s farmhand. She swung to him, hands on hips. ‘You’re wearing riding boots and you own a cattle station. I’m assuming you know your way around a horse.’
The man finally smiled. She’d started to think he didn’t know how, that he was a machine—all cold, clinical efficiency.
‘You assume right.’
For no reason at all her heart started thundering in her chest. She had to swallow before she could speak. ‘I gave you a comprehensive tour of Lorna Lee’s two weeks ago and I know both Frank and Eric did the same at their places. You and your people went over it all with a fine-tooth comb.’ What was he actually hoping she’d show him?
‘We studied points of interest—dams, fences, sheds and equipment, irrigation systems—but nothing beats getting to know the layout of the land like riding it.’
Question answered.
She rubbed the nape of her neck and tried to get her breathing back under control. It was probably the release of tension from having finally signed, but Flynn looked different in jeans and boots. He looked... She rolled her shoulders. Hot. As in adventure hot.
She shook her head. Crazy thought. Who cared what he looked like? She just wanted him to look after the farm, develop it to its full potential, while hoping he wasn’t an absolute tyrant to work for. All of those things trumped hot any day.
Logan brought out the steeds and Flynn moved to take the reins from him. She selected an Akubra from a peg—an old one of her father’s that had her swallowing back a lump—and handed it to him, before slapping her own hat to her head. The afternoon had lengthened but the sun would still be warm.
She glanced at the two horses. She’d been going to take Blossom, but... She glanced back at Flynn.
He gazed back steadily. ‘What?’
‘What are you in the mood for? An easy, relaxed ride or—’ she grinned ‘—something more challenging?’
‘Addie, something you ought to know about me from the get go is that I’ll always choose challenging.’
Right. ‘Then Blossom is all yours.’ She indicated the grey. ‘I’ll take Banjo.’
‘Leg up?’ he offered.
If it’d been Logan, she’d have accepted. If Flynn had been in his business suit she’d have probably accepted—just to test him. But the large maleness of him as he moved in closer, all of the muscled strength clearly outlined in jeans and T-shirt, had her baulking. ‘No, thank you.’
She slipped her foot into the stirrup and swung herself up into the saddle. Before she could be snarky and ask if he’d like a leg up, he’d done the same. Effortlessly. The big grey danced but Flynn handled him with ease. Perfectly.
She bit back a sigh. She suspected Flynn was one of those people who did everything perfectly.
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Pass muster?’
‘You’ll do,’ she muttered, turning her horse and hoping the movement hid the flare of colour that heated her cheeks.
She led the way out of the home paddock and then finally looked at him again. ‘What in particular would you like to see?’ Was there a particular herd he wanted to look over, a particular stretch of watercourse or a landscape feature?
‘To be perfectly frank, Addie, there’s nothing in particular I want to see. I just want to be out amongst it.’
He was tired of being cooped up. That she could deal with. She pointed. ‘See that stand of ironbarks on the low hill over there?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Wait for me there.’
He frowned. ‘Wait?’
She nodded at his steed. ‘In his current mood, Blossom will leave Banjo in the dust.’ And without another word she dug her heels into Banjo’s sides and set off at a canter.
As predicted, within ten seconds Blossom—and Flynn—had overtaken them and pulled ahead. Addie didn’t care. She gave herself up to the smooth easy motion of the canter, the cooling afternoon and the scent of sun-warmed grasses—all the gnarls inside her working themselves free.
‘Better?’ she asked when she reached Flynn again.
He slanted her a grin. ‘How’d you know?’
‘I start to feel exactly the same way when I’m cooped up for too long. There’s nothing like a good gallop to ease the kinks.’
He stared at her for a long moment. She thought he meant to say something, but he evidently decided to keep it to himself.
‘Munich,’ she blurted out, unable to keep her thoughts in.
‘What do you want to know?’
‘What would my duties be?’
‘A bit of office support—some word processing, accessing databases and spreadsheets, and setting up the odd meeting. If I want printing done, you’ll be my go-to person. The hotel will have business facilities. There might be the odd letter to post.’
This was her and Robbie’s dream job!
‘But...’ she bit her lip ‘...I don’t know any German beyond danke and guten Tag.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Auf wiedersehen?’
Oh, right. She nodded. ‘Goodbye.’
‘Those phrases will serve you well enough. You’ll find you won’t need to know the language. Most Europeans speak perfect English.’
Wow. Still, if she did go she meant to bone up on as much conversational German as she could.
‘You’ll be doing a lot of fetching and carrying—Get me that file, Addie. Where’s the Parker document, Addie? Ring down for coffee, will you, Addie? Where’re the most recent sales figures and costing sheets? Things like that.’
That she could do. She could major in fetching and carrying. ‘When are you planning to leave?’
‘In a week’s time.’
Oh, wow!
He frowned. ‘Do you have a passport?’
‘Yes.’ She’d had one since she was seventeen. Robbie had wanted one, and even though by that stage it had been pointless, Robbie’s parents hadn’t been able to deny her anything. She’d wanted Addie to have one too. Addie had kept it up to date ever since.
‘Good. Now be warned, when we work the pace will be fast and furious, but there’ll be days—lots of them, I expect—when we’ll be twiddling our thumbs. Days when you’ll be free to sightsee.’
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