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Authors: Erica Matthews

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It might be too soon for thanks. We don’t know what kind of boss he’ll be. Do you think he’ll make changes?”

“From something he said, I don’t think so.”

“If nothing else, we can boast of having the most attractive owner in Charleston.”

“No doubt about it. Too bad we can’t show him as part of the tour.
We could raise the entrance fees.”

Laughing,
Maggie returned to her tours, and nothing more was mentioned about Marcus during the days that followed. Thinking it would take several weeks to process the sale, she followed her usual practice of spending Sunday afternoon in the garden of Bradford House. Since this was the one day of the week when there were no tours, the grounds were open to the staff.

O
ccupying her favorite spot, golden head buried in a book, Maggie sighed with pure pleasure. There was no other place she would rather be. Into this peaceful setting came the unwelcome sound of conversation. She raised her head in annoyance.

A
s the voices grew louder and more distinct, she muttered under her breath. She knew with a certain dread the identity of one of those voices. Jumping to her feet, Maggie couldn’t quite catch the book as it sailed off her lap, hitting the smooth pavement with a thud that sounded like a gun-shot in the quietness of the garden. At once the voices ceased, the sudden silence broken only by the sound of footsteps coming unhurriedly up the path. Two people were approaching and by the looks on their faces, they were as displeased with finding Maggie as she was in being found.

Her
eyes focused momentarily on her newly acquired employer and then swung to his companion. As lovely as he was handsome and almost as tall, the young woman’s reddish gold hair gleamed in the afternoon sun. Maggie was thinking how well they complimented each other when Marcus spoke.


If you don’t mind my asking, how did you get in here?”

He sounded as annoyed as Maggie felt. “
I used the back gate,” she admitted after a long moment.

“For which you obviously have a key.”

Maggie began to feel she was under attack. “Of course. All of us do. The owners allow us to use the gardens on Sundays. I think I’m the only one who ever comes, though.”


Don’t you mean former owners? No doubt this kind gesture resulted from the fact that they didn’t actually live here and therefore wouldn’t be inconvenienced by finding people underfoot when they expected to be alone.”

Her manner decidedly frosty, Maggie reached into her pocket, removed the key and held it out to him.
“I wasn’t aware that you were living here yet, but I can rectify the situation quickly enough.”

Marcus made no move to take
the key, and in the silence that fell between them, his companion ventured a comment. “I think it is the two of us who have intruded, darling. This is, after all, a very secluded and romantic spot.”

Marcus
caught Maggie’s quick frown and intervened in a smooth voice. “It’s also a suitable place for reading.” Bending down, he retrieved the fallen book and handed it to Maggie. “Keep your key and continue to use the gardens. I certainly won’t deny your pleasure in something that affects me so little.”

Only necessity (her job security, that is) kept Maggie from rolling her eyes at this outrageous statement. She managed a quiet
“thank you,” and determined to be polite at all costs, asked, “How are you finding your new acquisition?”

H
e smiled faintly. “Full of unexpected surprises, like this one. And I imagine that having the owner around all the time won’t be nearly as convenient for any of you. Come, Felicia, let us continue our walk and allow,” here he paused and quirked an eyebrow in Maggie’s direction. “I’m afraid I’ve forgotten your name.”


It’s Maggie, Maggie Pelham,” she offered courteously, though she felt the opposite. The man was her boss, after all.


Ah, yes, Maggie. I should have remembered. Anyway, we’ve detained you long enough. And if someone is meeting you here, he’ll prefer to find you alone.”

The disbelieving tone and lift of hea
vy brows belied the innocent-sounding words. Evidently the thought of her having a boyfriend was amusing if not downright impossible. Watching them go, Maggie sighed. That hadn’t gone well. It was becoming apparent that Marcus Seymour, for all his good looks, had a sarcastic and unpleasant way about him that would take all her patience to tolerate.

C
hapter Two

The following
morning didn’t begin in an auspicious way. Maggie, who was normally the first person to arrive at work, overslept, and in her muddled state, exited the bus at the wrong stop. This meant a longer walk, which wouldn’t have been so bad except it was raining heavily. Her umbrella was no match for the downpour falling from the sky at all angles. She arrived at the staff entrance very wet and not in the best of moods. Her wish to get to the break room so she could repair the damage without being observed wasn’t granted.

She
no sooner entered the narrow hall when her downcast eyes glimpsed a pair of shoes coming her way belonging to the very last person who would be sympathetic to her condition. Marcus stopped in the middle of the walkway, thus preventing her from going further, and looked her up and down for several long drawn out seconds. Maggie bit her lip to keep from saying something rude and waited for him to speak.


Still raining?” he asked flippantly. At her curt nod, he went on. “You might want to hurry with whatever you plan on doing to make yourself presentable – my staff meeting is going to start in five minutes.” He didn’t wait for any reply she may have been tempted to make.

Grimacing at his departing figure,
Maggie hurried into the break room, emerging a few minutes later looking more like her usual self. To her satisfaction and his obvious surprise, she was able to follow Marcus into Brenda’s office. She wasn’t late after all.

The
business-like discussion that followed didn’t last long, and Marcus did most of the talking. As he sauntered from the room, leaving behind a myriad of impressions on his staff, Maggie was able to console herself with the fact that whatever else changed, the tours would remain operating in much the same manner as always.

The only real difference was
Marcus would be living in the house as well as moving his law practice there. At this point, that couldn’t be viewed as an advantage.

Everyone
filed out of Brenda’s office anxious to get started on the business of the day. As Maggie gathered her first group of tourists, none of whom seemed to be the least deterred by the weather, she hoped Marcus would remain in his office or better yet, sequestered in the courthouse, so that her meetings with him would be few. For some reason, she was never at her best when he was around.

During the
next few days, things at Bradford House settled into a familiar pattern. Of their new owner, there was no sign, though Maggie did make the acquaintance of his live-in housekeeper. She also ran into the workers who’d been engaged to renovate the rooms set aside for his law practice.

If this was an indication of how things were going to be, Maggie was sure she could handle the new regime. Her doub
ts about coping with Marcus slowly disappeared. In fact, she almost succeeded in forgetting he was in the house.

T
wo weeks later reality reared its ugly head. Lulled by beautiful, blue skies and a warm ocean breeze, energetic tourists emerged from their hotels, milling around the front gate well before the tours were due to begin. Their numbers continued to grow during the morning hours until it seemed no one would be getting their lunch. Just when Maggie thought she might actually faint if she didn’t get something to eat, she happened to glance outside.

Ominous, dark
clouds were piling up on the horizon. By themselves, they had no immediate effect on those who had already waited an hour or more and had no intention of leaving. But ever so gradually the blue sky disappeared, leaving behind a cool wind that promised rain. And rain it did. Pouring from the sky in torrents, sheets of water blew in every direction scattering even the most dedicated tourists.

Apprised of the situation,
Brenda decided to close early. In a relatively short period of time, all was quiet. Everyone had departed except Maggie. She was engaged in one of her least favorite tasks - tallying the day’s receipts. To make matters worse, the electricity kept flickering off and on. Just as she added the same column of numbers for the second time, the lights went out completely.

Maggie
didn’t like thunderstorms at the best of times. If she had a choice, she preferred to be at home where the desire to bury her head under the covers actually had a chance of being fulfilled. However, she wasn’t at home and sitting in a dark room certainly wouldn’t get her there any faster. A flashlight was what she needed and unless things had altered greatly under the new management, there should be one in the kitchen.

In his office on the floor above, Marcus had also been interrupted by the
power outage. Brenda had informed him of her dismissal of the staff, and his assistant and housekeeper had both left earlier in the day. Thinking himself alone, he began to make his way toward the most likely place to find an alternative source of light.

It took Maggie longer than she expected to
navigate the stairs and reach the kitchen, and she wasn’t in the best of tempers once she did arrive. She began opening drawers, her impatient fingers fumbling through several before she found what she was seeking.

Though she would rather not have seen it, she did have
an excellent view of windswept trees and an eerily dark sky through the kitchen window. She was standing motionless, holding the flashlight, when Marcus entered unnoticed from the opposite hall.


You always seem to be around where you’re least expected.”

Maggie
jumped at the sound of his voice and dropped the flashlight. Her irritated glance in his direction was wasted since it was too dark for them to see each other properly. Before she could move, he bent over, retrieved the flashlight and turned it on, briefly illuminating her face.


I’m sorry for scaring you.” The merriment threading his voice did nothing to ease Maggie’s rising temper. “I thought everyone had gone some time ago.”

Maggie made no
reply to this obviously insincere apology. Attractive he might be, but this man was too sure of himself for her taste. “I was trying to finish some paperwork, but with the electricity off, there’s no point in sticking around.”

Marcus pointedly looked at the fury of nature taking place o
utside and gave her the cold smile she was coming to associate with him. “It’s too late for retreat, I’m afraid. You’d never make it to the end of the road. I don’t need that on my conscience.” Turning away, he asked in a resigned tone, “Is this the only flashlight?”


I’m not sure. I only needed one.”

What could have been
a chuckle escaped him. Shaking his head in disbelief, he started searching the cabinets. After a few minutes, she heard his grunt of satisfaction as he drew out a battery powered lamp.


Now this is more like it.” Marcus held the lamp aloft and turned it on. His spontaneous grin was infectious and despite her feelings about the man in general, Maggie found herself responding to it. “Now we can at least see each other.” His green eyes gleamed like a cat’s in the lamp light. She couldn’t suppress a shiver when his fingers slid under her arm. “You might as well come with me. That flashlight won’t do you much good. You can wait in my office for the storm to clear.”

Maggie had
n’t been in the long, narrow room located along one side of the house since its renovation. She stood hesitantly just inside the door while Marcus moved a box of papers from one of a pair of black leather chairs resting in front of a massive desk.

“Have a seat,” he said
with a wave of his hand. He didn’t sit himself but instead moved past the desk to the back of the room where a tiny kitchenette had been added. She watched as he poured coffee into two mugs.

As if he could feel her regard, he turned his head suddenly and their eyes collided. Just when Maggie began to feel uncomfortable, he asked, “
Cream or sugar?”

“Neither, thank you.”

With a nod toward the window, he said, “That will tie up traffic for a while. Did you have plans for the evening?” He placed her coffee within reach and sank down into the chair behind the desk.

Maggie was
once again struck by the sheer good looks of this man. She absently thanked him for the coffee and took a tentative sip before replying. “I wasn’t going out, if that’s what you mean.”

A
satirical smile passed over her companion’s arresting features. “Not going out on a Saturday night? I can hardly believe it.”


What’s so hard to believe? Haven’t you noticed the monsoon taking place outside?”


You’re going to let a little rain and wind stop you? Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Right behind my common sense,” she retorted.

“Common sense is the death of spontaneity. With the right companion, braving the elements can have its compensations.”

“Like
what? Getting struck by lightning?” Maggie asked impishly.

Marcus leaned back in his seat, his fascinating eyes narrowing to green slits. “I was thinking of something else entirely.” He smiled slowly, a boyishly sweet smile that chased the hardness from his eyes and gave Maggie a glimpse of an altogether different person, someone exciting and not at all
as she’d previously thought.

A
s if nature itself felt a need to impose its opinion on their conversation, a bolt of lightning hit so close that it lit the entire room for a split second, the vibration strong enough to shake the house and break the spell Marcus’s smile seemed to have cast over Maggie. She jumped out of her seat, aware of nothing except the need to escape. Before she could give voice to the fear besetting her, Marcus was at her side, the lamp in one hand, her arm in the other.

Neither of them
spoke as they proceeded down the stairs to the relative safety of the basement. He led her into a room containing a conglomeration of furniture left behind by the various owners of Bradford House. It also had the added advantage of possessing no windows, something for which Maggie was profoundly grateful. Taking a seat on the nearest couch, Marcus pulled her down beside him, giving her a sideways glance as he did so.


As I haven’t had time to do anything capable of getting you so agitated, I assume the lightning is responsible for you looking as if you’ve seen a ghost. I apologize for making light of your fears.”

Maggie laughed shakily.
“It’s really silly when one thinks about it. I should have outgrown such an absurd phobia by now.”


Do we outgrow our fears? Or do we just get better at avoiding them? It’s an interesting question.”


Some fears are easier to avoid than others,” she pointed out.


I agree. I’ve managed to avoid matrimony for thirty-eight years with almost no real effort.”

Maggie was amused despite her situation. He was a
n entertaining talker if nothing else. “It’s more likely that you haven’t met the woman who will provide the necessary inducement for you to surrender your well-guarded freedom.”

His lips twitched.
“Necessary inducement? Yes, I suppose there’s a certain element of truth in that. In any case, I get sufficient feminine company without the added trouble and distraction of marriage. It’s a system I’m very reluctant to change.”

Maggie
almost nodded her head; he was just as she had supposed. How many women had tried to alter his mind and been left with a broken heart? “Remind me not to introduce you to any of my friends,” she added wryly.


A wise decision. I’m not the stuff from which fairy tale romances are made.”

“And you seem very proud of it,” Maggie quipped before she re
membered to whom she was speaking.

He sent her a considering glance. “
Not at all, but I don’t expect you to understand. Women tend to get defensive around a man who doesn’t conform to their notions of behavior.”

“Has that been your experience?” she asked in a deceptively mild voice.

Again a chuckle escaped him. “I better go check on the storm. We’ll be arguing in a moment.”

He was up and gone before she could assure him of her indifference to the subject. When
he returned after a few minutes, Marcus observed that the worst was over and if she was ready, he would run her home in his car.

“That’s not necessary,” Maggie began, only to be cut short by his, “
Probably not, but I’m going to do it anyway.”

“My purse is in the break room.”

He handed her the lamp. “Lead the way.”

Maggie was aware of him close behind her as they made their way through the still dark house. What she could
n’t figure out was why she was suddenly on edge. A brief respite came when they reached their destination. Standing just outside the door, he said, “Get your things together. I’ll be right back.”

“Do you need the light?”

“No thanks, I can manage.”

She
had locked the desk and located her purse by the time he returned. He leaned against the door lazily, jiggling the keys in his pocket.

BOOK: Falling for the Boss
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