“Where do I sign? Mr Mather, you have yourself a deal.”

“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

Snowbound Surprise for the Billionaire
Michelle Douglas

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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.’

It was every dream she’d ever dreamed.

She straightened, slowly, but she felt a reverberation through her entire being. There was more than one way to get off the farm. If she played this right...

‘Naturally I’ll cover your expenses—airfare and accommodation—along with a wage.’

A lump lodged in her throat.

‘I meant what I said earlier, Addie. I want us to build a solid working relationship and I’m not the kind of man to put off the things I want. I don’t see any reason why that working relationship can’t start in Munich.’

If she did a great job for him, if she proved herself a brilliant personal assistant, then maybe Flynn would keep her on as his PA? She could live the life she’d always been meant to live—striding out in a suit and jet-setting around the world.

He stared at her. Eventually he pushed the brim of his hat back as if to view her all the more intently or clearly. ‘Mind if I ask you something?’

‘Sure.’

‘Why haven’t you said yes to Munich yet? I can tell you want to.’

She moistened her lips and glanced out at the horizon. ‘Have you ever wanted something so badly that when you finally think it’s yours you’re afraid it’s too good to be true?’

He was silent for a moment and then nodded. ‘I know exactly how that feels.’

She believed him.

‘All you have to do is say yes, Addie.’

So she said it. ‘Yes.’

CHAPTER TWO

FLYNN GLANCED ACROSS at Addie, who’d started to droop. ‘Are you okay?’

She shook herself upright. ‘Yes, thank you.’

He raised an eyebrow.

She gritted her teeth and wriggled back in her seat. ‘When can we get off this tin can?’

They’d arrived at Munich airport and were waiting for a gate to become vacant. They’d been on the ground and waiting for fifteen minutes, but he silently agreed with her. It felt more like an hour. ‘Shortly, I expect, but I thought you were looking forward to flying?’

‘I’ve flown now. It’s ticked off my list,’ she ground out, and then she stilled and turned those extraordinary eyes to him. ‘Not that it hasn’t been interesting, but I just didn’t know that twenty-two hours could take so long.’

Addie’s problem was that she’d been so excited when they’d first boarded the plane in Sydney she hadn’t slept a wink on the nine-and-a-half-hour leg between there and Bangkok. She’d worn herself out so much—had become so overtired—that she’d been lucky to get two hours’ sleep over the next twelve hours.

He suspected she wasn’t used to the inactivity either. He thought back to the way they’d cantered across the fields at Lorna Lee’s and shook his head. Overtired and climbing walls. He understood completely.

A steward’s voice chimed through the sound system telling them they were taxiing to Gate Twenty-eight and to remain in their seats. Addie blew out a breath that made him laugh. Within twenty minutes, however, they’d cleared Customs and were waiting by the luggage carousel. Addie eased forward in one lithe movement and hefted a bag from the carousel as if it were a bale of hay.

He widened his stance and frowned at her. ‘If you’d pointed it out I’d have got it for you.’

She blinked at him. ‘Why would you do that when I’m more than capable?’

A laugh escaped him. ‘Because I’m the big strong man and you’re the dainty personal assistant.’

One side of her mouth hooked up and her eyes danced. ‘You didn’t tell me dainty was part of the job description.’ And then she moved forward, picked his suitcase off the carousel and set it at his feet.

‘Addie!’

‘Fetch and carry—that was part of the job description and that I can do.’

He folded his arms. ‘How’d you know it was my case? It’s standard black and nondescript.’

She pointed. ‘With a blue and green tartan ribbon tied to the handle.’

She’d noticed that? ‘Adelaide Ramsey, I have a feeling you’re going to be a handy person to have around.’

‘That’s the plan.’

Was it? Her earnestness puzzled him.

And then she jumped on the spot. ‘Can we go and see Munich now?’

All of her weariness had fled. Her back had straightened, her eyes had brightened and she glanced about with interest. He swallowed and led the way out of the airport to the taxi stand. ‘It’ll take about forty minutes by cab to reach Munich proper.’

‘It’s so cold!’

He turned to find Addie struggling to pull her coat from her hand luggage and haul it on, her breath misting on the air. ‘December in Munich,’ he pointed out. ‘It was always going to be cold.’

Teeth chattering, she nodded. ‘I’m counting on snow.’

She spent the entire trip into the city with her face pressed to the window. Flynn spent most of the trip watching her. She gobbled up everything—the trees, the houses, the shops, the people.

She flinched as they passed a truck. ‘It’s so wrong driving on this side of the road.’

They drove on the left in Australia. In Germany it was the opposite. It took a bit of getting used to. As he watched her an ache he couldn’t explain started up in his chest.

He rubbed a hand across it and forced his gaze away to stare out of his own window, but it didn’t stop him from catching the tiny sounds she made—little gasps and tiny sighs that sounded like purrs. Each and every one of them pressed that ache deeper into him.

Maybe that was why, when the taxi deposited them at the front of their hotel, he snapped at her when she didn’t follow after him at a trot, but stood glued to the footpath instead. He turned, rubbing a hand across his chest again. ‘What are you doing?’

She glanced around as if memorising the buildings, the street and its layout. ‘This is the very first time my feet have touched European ground.’

He opened his mouth to point out that technically that wasn’t true.

‘I want to fix it in my mind, relish the moment. I’ve dreamed of it for so long and I can hardly believe...’

He snapped his mouth shut again.

She suddenly stiffened, tossed him a glance, and before he knew what she was about she’d swung her hand luggage over her shoulder, seized both of their cases and was striding straight into the foyer of the hotel with them.

For pity’s sake! He took off after her to find her enquiring, in perfect German no less, for a booking in the name of Mather.

The concierge smiled and welcomed her and double-checked the details of the booking.

Flynn moved up beside her. ‘I didn’t think you spoke German?’ It came out like an accusation.

‘I don’t. I learned that phrase specifically.’

‘For goodness’ sake, why?’

‘I thought it might come in handy, and to be polite, but...’ She swallowed and turned back to the concierge and glanced at his name badge. ‘Entschuldigen Sie—’ I’m sorry ‘—Bruno, but I have no idea what you just said to me.’

The concierge beamed back at her. ‘No matter at all, madam. Your accent was so perfect I thought you a native.’

‘Now you’re flattering me.’ She laughed, delighted colour high on her cheeks. ‘Danke.’ Thank you.

‘Bitte.’ You’re welcome.

And from her smile Flynn could tell she knew what that meant. It was all he could do not to roll his eyes.

‘Your hotel is sublime, beautiful.’ She gestured around. ‘And I can’t tell you how excited I am to be here.’

The man beamed at her, completely charmed and this time Flynn did roll his eyes. ‘And we’re delighted to have you stay with us, madam.’

Given the prices they were charging, of course they were delighted.

Eventually Flynn managed to get their room keys and he pushed Addie in the direction of the elevator that silently whooshed them up four flights to the top floor.

Flynn stopped partway down the corridor. ‘This should be your room.’

Her jaw dropped when she entered. ‘It’s huge!’ She raced to the window. ‘Oh, this is heaven.’ She pointed. ‘What’s that?’

He moved to join her. ‘That’s called the Isartor. Munich was once a gated medieval city. Tor means gate. Isar is the name of the nearby river.’

She stared at him. ‘So that’s the gate to the river Isar. It sounds like something from a Grimm’s fairy tale.’

She turned back to fully take in her room. ‘Oh, Flynn, I don’t need something this big.’

‘I have the main suite next door and I wanted you nearby.’

She glanced around more slowly this time and her face fell. ‘What?’ he barked.

‘I thought there might be an adjoining door.’ Colour flared suddenly in her face. ‘I mean, it’s not that I want one. It’s just they have them in the movies and...’ She broke off, grimacing.

He had to laugh and it eased the burn in his chest. ‘No adjoining doors, but feel free to come across and check out the suite.’

Flynn had never thought too much about hotel rooms before beyond space and comfort. And most of the time he didn’t waste much thought on the second of those. Space mattered to him though. It probably had something to do with the wide open spaces of the cattle country he was used to. He didn’t like feeling hemmed in. It was strange, then, that he spent so much of his time in the cities of Sydney and Brisbane.

‘Oh, my! You have a walk-in closet. And a second bedroom!’ Addie came hurtling back into the living area. ‘You have all this—’ she spread her arms wide to encompass the lounge area, dining table and kitchenette ‘—plus all that.’ She pointed back the way she’d come from the bedrooms and bathroom.

The suite was generous.

She bounced on the sofa. She sat at the table. ‘And it’s all lovely light wood and blue and grey accents. It’s beautiful.’

He glanced around. She was right. It was.

She poked about the minibar and straightened with a frown. ‘There’s no price list.’

‘The minibar is included in the overall price. It’s the same for your room.’ When he travelled he wanted the best.

‘No-o-o.’ Her jaw dropped. ‘You mean, I can drink and eat whatever I want from it and it won’t cost you a penny more?’

Heck! Had he ever been that young? ‘Ja.’

‘Fantastisch!’

She sobered. ‘Thank you for my beautiful room.’

He rolled his shoulders. He hadn’t been thinking of her comfort or enjoyment, but his own convenience. ‘It’s nothing. Don’t think about it.’

‘Thank you for bringing me to Munich.’

‘It’s not a free ride, Adelaide.’

‘I know, and just you wait. I’m going to be the best PA you’ve ever had.’

Her sincerity pricked him. ‘Addie, go and unpack your bags.’

Without so much as a murmur, she turned and left. Flynn collapsed onto the sofa, shaking his head. He eased back a bit further. Addie was right. The sofa was comfortable. He’d be able to rest here and—

Out of the blue it hit him then that not once between the airport and now had he given thought to the reason he was in Munich. He straightened. He pushed to his feet. Twenty years in the planning all ousted because of Addie’s excitement? Jet lag. He grabbed his suitcase and strode into the master bedroom, started flinging clothes into the closet. Either that or he was going soft in the head.

He stowed the suitcase and raked both hands back through his hair. The important thing was that he was here now and that finally—after twenty years, twenty-two, to be precise—he had the means and opportunity to bring down the man who had destroyed his family. He would crush George Mueller the way George had laid waste to his father. And he intended to relish every moment of that with the same gusto Addie had so far shown for Munich.

With a grim smile, he made for the shower.

* * *

A knock sounded on the door and Flynn glanced up from his laptop. Housekeeping?

Or Addie?

He forced himself to his feet to open it. Addie stood on the other side, but it was a version of her he’d never seen before. What on earth? He blinked.

‘May I come in?’

He moved aside to let her enter, his voice trapped somewhere between chest and throat. She sauntered in with a pot of coffee in one hand and a briefcase in the other. She wore a black business suit.

Hell’s bells! Addie had legs that went on forever.

She set the briefcase on the table and the coffee pot on a trivet on the bench, before turning. He dragged his gaze from her legs. ‘Where did you get that?’ He pointed so she knew he meant the coffee, not the legs.

‘The breakfast room.’

She collected two mugs and leant down to grab the milk from the bar fridge. Her skirt was a perfectly respectable length, but... He rubbed the nape of his neck. Who’d have known that beneath her jeans she’d have legs like that?

He shook himself. ‘What are you doing?’ The words practically bellowed from him. ‘And why are you wearing that?’

Her face fell and he could’ve kicked himself. ‘Sorry,’ he ground out. ‘Jet lag. That didn’t come out right.’

She swallowed. ‘Flynn, I know this trip isn’t a free ride. So—’ she gestured down at herself ‘—like a good dainty personal assistant, I donned my work clothes, made sure to get the boss coffee and now I’m here to put in a day’s work.’

‘I don’t expect you to do any work today.’

She handed him a coffee. Strong and black. She must’ve remembered that from their meetings at Lorna Lee’s. ‘Why not?’

He took a sip. It wasn’t as hot as he’d have liked, but he kept his trap shut on that head. She’d gone to the trouble of fetching it for him. Besides, it was excellent—brewed to perfection.

‘I’m here to work,’ she reminded him.

‘Not on the day we fly in. You’re allowed some time to settle in.’

‘Oh.’ She bit her lip. ‘I didn’t realise. You didn’t say.’

‘Where did you get the suit?’ Had she bought it especially for the trip? He hadn’t meant to put her out of pocket.

‘I have a wardrobe full of suits. When I finished school I started an office administration course. I had plans to—’

She broke off and he realised that whatever plans she’d made, they hadn’t come to fruition.

‘But my mother became sick and I came home to help out and, well, the suits haven’t really seen the light of day since.’

Because she’d been stuck on the farm. Trapped on the farm. He recalled the way she’d pressed her face against the window of the taxi, the look on her face as she’d stared around the city street below. Why was she in his room ready to work when she should be out there exploring the streets of Munich?

‘Flynn, I don’t even know what it is we’re doing in Munich.’

That decided him. ‘Go change into your warmer clothes—jeans, a jumper and a coat—and I’ll show you why we’re here.’

Her eyes lit up. ‘And a scarf, gloves and boots. I swear I’ve never known cold like this.’

‘Wear two pairs of socks,’ he called after her. ‘I’ll meet you in the foyer in ten minutes.’

* * *

Addie made it down to the foyer in eight minutes to find Flynn already there. She waved to Bruno, who waved back.

‘Good to know you can move when necessary,’ Flynn said, gesturing her towards the door.

Addie could hardly believe she was in Munich! She practically danced out of the door.

She halted outside. Which way did he want to go? Where did he mean to take her? Oh, goodness, it was cold! She tightened her scarf about her throat and stamped her feet up and down. ‘It was thirty-three degrees Celsius when we left Sydney. The predicted top for Munich today is four!’

‘In a couple of days you won’t even notice.’

She turned to stare at him.

‘Okay, you’ll notice, but it won’t hurt so much.’

‘I’ll accept that. So, what are you going to show me?’

‘We’re going to get our bearings first.’

Excellent plan. She pulled the complimentary map she’d found in her room from her coat pocket at the exact moment he pulled the same map from his.

He stared at her map, then at her and shook his head.

‘What? I didn’t want to get lost.’ In rural Australia getting lost could get you killed.

‘There’s nothing dainty about you, is there, Addie?’

‘Not if you’re using dainty as a synonym for helpless,’ she agreed warily. If it was important to him she supposed she could try and cultivate it, though.

He shoved his map back into his pocket. ‘While we’re on the subject, for the record I do not want you carrying my luggage.’

‘Okay. Noted.’ Man, who knew that negotiating the waters of PA and boss politics could be so tricky? ‘Okay, while we’re on the subject. When we’re in business meetings and stuff, do you want me to call you Mr Mather and sir?’

His lip curled. ‘Sir?’

Okay, she didn’t need a business degree to work out his thoughts on that. ‘So we’re Herr Mather and his super-efficient—’ and dainty if she could manage it ‘—PA, Addie.’

‘Herr Mather and his assistant, Adelaide,’ he corrected.

A little thrill shot up her spine. Adelaide sounded so grown up. It was a proper name for a PA. ‘Right.’

Brrr...if they didn’t move soon, though, she’d freeze to the footpath. She glanced at the map in her hand and then held it out to him. She could read a map as well as the next person, but she was well aware that the male of the species took particular pride in his navigational skills.

‘You haven’t been to Munich before?’ she asked as he unfolded the map.

‘No. What made you think I had?’

He studied the map and a lock of chestnut hair fell onto his forehead. The very tips were a couple of shades lighter and they, along with his tan, seemed at odds with all of this frosty cold. It made him seem suddenly exotic.

Deliciously exotic.

Delicious? She frowned. Well, she knew he was perfectly perfect—she’d known that the moment he’d stepped onto Lorna Lee’s dressed in a perfectly perfect suit. He was also decidedly male. That had become evident the moment she’d clapped eyes on him in jeans and boots. She just hadn’t felt all of that down in her gut until this very moment. She swallowed. Now she felt it all the way to her bones.

Flynn Mather was a perfect specimen of perfectly perfect maleness. In fact, if he’d been a stud bull she’d have moved heaven and earth to have him on the books at Lorna Lee’s and—

‘Addie?’

She snapped out of it. She swallowed. ‘Sorry, brain fog, jet lag, the cold, I don’t know.’ What had they been talking about? She couldn’t remember. She stared at the map and pointed. ‘So where are we? What do I need to know?’

‘Medieval walled city, remember?’

‘Yep.’ Nothing wrong with her memory.

‘This circle here encloses the heart of the city. Most of our negotiations will take place within this area.’

She followed his finger as it went around, outlining where he meant. A tanned finger. A strong, tanned, masculine finger.

She had a feeling that perfectly perfect PAs didn’t notice their boss’s fingers.

‘Our hotel is here.’ His finger tapped the big blue star emblazoned with the hotel’s name. ‘Marienplatz—the town square—is the heart of it all and it’s here...which is only a couple of blocks away.’

She jolted away from him in excitement. ‘Oh, let’s start there! I’ve read so much—’

She choked her words back. Perfectly perfect PAs waited to find out what was required of them. They didn’t take the bit between their teeth and charge off.

‘I mean only if it’s convenient, of course, and part of your plan.’

He stared down at her and, while Munich was cold, the sky was blue but not as blue as Flynn’s eyes. He grinned, and warmth—as if an oven door had been opened—encompassed her. ‘You’re trying really hard, aren’t you?’

She couldn’t deny it. ‘Very.’

‘I’d be happier if you’d just relax a bit.’

She bit her lip. ‘I just want to do a good job and not let you down.’

‘Wrong answer.’

She stared back at him. ‘What was I supposed to say?’

‘Noted,’ he drawled and she couldn’t help but laugh.

She could do relaxed...perfectly. ‘To be honest, Flynn, I don’t care which way we go, but can we move, please, before my feet freeze solid?’

He took her arm, his chuckle a frosty breath on the air. ‘Right this way.’

He turned them towards Marienplatz. She stared at the shop fronts they passed, the people and the clothes they wore, the cars...but when she glanced up her feet slid to a halt.

‘What now?’ Flynn asked with exaggerated patience.

She pointed. ‘Spires,’ she whispered. Oh, Robbie! ‘And green domes.’

‘Pretty,’ he agreed.

There was nothing like this in Australia. Nothing. A lump lodged in her throat. She’d never seen anything more beautiful.

‘If you like those you should go to Paris. They have green domes enough to gladden every soul.’

No. She forced her legs forward again. She was exactly where she ought to be.

When they entered the town square, full of bustle and people on this bright chilly morning, and made their way to its centre even Flynn was quiet for a moment. ‘That’s really something,’ he finally said.

All Addie could do was nod. Gothic architecture, sweeping spires, gargoyles and a glockenspiel were all arrayed in front of her. ‘What more could one want from a town hall?’ she breathed.

On cue, the glockenspiel rang out a series of notes. She and Flynn shared a glance and then folded their arms and stood shoulder to shoulder to watch. Addie had to keep closing her mouth as the jesters jested, the couples danced and the knights duelled. She watched as if in a dream, Flynn’s shoulder solid against hers reminding her that this was all for real. She soaked it in, marvelled at it, her heart expanding with gratitude. The show lasted for fifteen minutes, and, despite the cold and the sore neck from craning upwards, she could’ve watched for another fifteen.

She spun to Flynn. ‘Can you imagine how amazed the first people who ever saw that must’ve been? It would have been the height of technology at the time and—’

She suddenly realised she was holding his arm and, in her enthusiasm, was squeezing it. With a grimace and a belated pat of apology, she let it go. ‘Sorry, got carried away.’ It certainly wasn’t dainty to pull your boss’s arm out of its socket.

His lips twitched.

No, no—she didn’t want to amuse him. She wanted to impress him.

She gestured back to the glockenspiel. ‘And they call that the New Town Hall. I mean, it’s gothic and—’

He turned her ninety degrees to face back the way they’d come. ‘Oh!’ A breath escaped her. ‘And that would be the Old Town Hall and as it’s medieval then I guess that makes sense.’

She turned a slow circle trying to take it all in.

‘What do you think?’

He sounded interested in her impression. She wondered if he was merely humouring her. ‘I can’t believe how beautiful it all is.’ She turned back to the New Town Hall and her stomach plummeted. An ache started up in her chest. ‘Oh,’ she murmured. ‘I forgot.’

‘Forgot what?’

‘That it’s Christmas.’

‘Addie, there’re decorations everywhere, not to mention a huge Christmas tree right there. How could you forget?’

She’d been too busy taking in the breathtaking architecture and the strangeness of it all. She lifted a shoulder. ‘It’s been such a rush this last week.’ What with signing the contract to sell Lorna Lee’s and preparing for the trip, Christmas had been the last thing on her mind.

Christmas. Her first ever Christmas away from Lorna Lee’s. Her first Christmas without her father.

The ache stretched through her chest. If her father were still alive they’d have decorated their awful plastic tree—loaded it with tinsel and coloured balls and tiny aluminium bells and topped it with a gaudy angel. She’d be organising a ham and a turkey roll and—

A touch on her arm brought her back with a start. ‘Where did you just go?’

His eyes were warm and soft and they eased the ache inside her. She remembered the way his eyes had blazed when she’d asked him if he knew what it was like to want something so terribly badly.

Yes, he’d known. She suspected he’d understand this too. ‘The ghost of Christmases past,’ she murmured. ‘It’s the first Christmas without my father.’

His face gentled. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I’ve been doing my best not to think about it.’ She stared across at the giant decorated tree that stood out at the front of the New Town Hall. ‘I’m glad I’m spending Christmas here this year rather than on the farm.’

He nodded.

She turned back to him. ‘Are your parents still alive?’

‘My father isn’t.’

Her lungs cramped at the desolation that momentarily stretched through his eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. ‘It was a long time ago.’

‘Your mother?’

‘My mother and I are estranged.’

She grimaced and shoved her hands into her pockets too. ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ She shouldn’t have pressed him.

He shrugged as if it didn’t make an ounce of difference to him, but she didn’t believe that for a moment. ‘She’s a difficult woman.’

She pushed her shoulders back. ‘Then we’ll just have to have our own orphans’ Christmas in Munich.’

He opened his mouth. She waited but he closed it again. She cleared her throat, grimaced and scratched a hand through her hair. ‘I, the thing is, I’ve just realised in the rush of it all that I haven’t bought presents for the people back home.’

He stared down at her for three beats and then he laughed as if she’d shaken something loose from him. ‘Addie, that’s not going to be a problem. Haven’t you heard about the Munich Christmas markets?’

‘Markets?’ She wanted to jump up and down. ‘Really?’

‘Some are held in this very square. You’ll find presents for everyone.’

‘There’ll be time for that?’ She could send the gifts express post to make sure they arrived on time. Hang the expense.

‘Plenty of time.’

She folded her arms and surveyed him. ‘When are you going to tell me what your business in Munich is?’

‘Come right this way.’ He took her arm and set off past the New Town Hall. They passed what looked like the main shopping area. She slanted a glance up at him. ‘We’ll still be in Munich for the post-Christmas sales, right?’

‘Never stand in the way of a woman and the sales. Don’t worry; you’ll have time to shop.’

Cool.

She shook herself. That was all well and good, but when were they in fact going to do any work?

Eventually he stopped, let go of her arm and pointed. She peered at the building he gestured to. It took her a moment, but... ‘Ooh, a beer hall! Can we...? I mean, is it too early...?’

‘It’s nearly midday. C’mon.’ He ushered her inside.

The interior was enormous and filled with wooden tables and benches. He led her to a table by the wall, where they had a perfect view of the rest of the room. He studied the menu and ordered them both beers in perfect German.

She stared at her glass when it was set down in front of her—her very tall glass. ‘Uh, Flynn, you ordered me half a litre of beer?’

‘We could’ve ordered it by the litre if you’d prefer.’

Her jaw dropped as a barmaid walked past with three litre tankards in one hand and two in the other.

‘Bottoms up!’

He sounded younger than she’d ever heard him. She raised her glass. ‘Cheers.’

She took a sip and closed her eyes in bliss. ‘Nectar from the gods. Now tell me what we’re drinking to?’

‘This—’ he gestured around ‘—is what we’re doing here.’

It took a moment. When she realised what he meant she set her glass down and leaned towards him. ‘You’re buying the beer hall?’ A grin threatened to split her face in two. That had to be every Australian boy’s dream.

How perfectly perfect!

CHAPTER THREE

Dear Daisy

Munich is amazing. Gorgeous. And so cold! After a couple of hours out my face burned when I came back inside as if it were sunburned. Everything here is so different from Mudgee. I know it’s not Paris, but it’s marvellous just the same.

You know, it got me thinking about starting the blog back up, but...I’d simply be searching for something I can’t have. Again.

You should be here in Europe with me. You should... Sorry, enough of that. Guess what? I finally found out what we’re doing here. The perfectly perfect F is buying a brewery that has its own beer hall! How exciting is that?

We have our very first business meeting at eleven o’clock this morning. I’m going to wear that gorgeous garnet-coloured suit I bought in Sydney when we went to see Cate Blanchett at the theatre that time. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do in said meeting, but in that suit I’ll at least look the part!

Wish you were here.

Love, Buttercup

ADDIE EXITED HER Till the Cows Come Home Word document, closed the lid of her laptop and resisted the urge to snuggle back beneath the covers. It was only seven a.m. She could sneak in another hour of shut-eye. Flynn had said he didn’t need to see her until quarter to eleven in his room, where the meeting was scheduled to take place, but...

She was in Munich!

She leapt out of bed, smothering a yawn. A brisk walk down by the River Isar would be just the thing. She wanted her body clock on Munich time asap. What she didn’t want was any more of the crazy disturbed sleep like that she’d had last night.

A walk in Munich would wake her up, enliven her and have her bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for Flynn’s business meeting.

Perfect.

* * *

Addie tried to stifle a yawn as the lawyer droned on and on and on about the conditions of probate and the details of the contract negotiations that were under way, plus additional clauses that would need to be considered, along with local government regulations and demands and...on and on and on.

Did Flynn find this stuff interesting?

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He watched the lawyer narrowly, those blue eyes alert. She sensed the tension coiled up inside him as if he were a stroppy King Brown waiting to strike, even as he leaned back in his seat, the picture of studied ease. She wondered if the lawyer knew.

She shivered, but she couldn’t deny it only made him seem more powerful...and lethal, like a hero from a thriller. It must be beyond brilliant to feel that confident, to have all of that uncompromising derring-do. One could save small children from burning buildings and dive into seething seas to rescue battered shipwreck victims and—

‘Make a note of that, will you, please, Adelaide?’

She crashed back into the room, swallowing. She pulled her notebook towards her without glancing at Flynn and jotted on it.

Am making notes about nothing so as to look efficient. Listen in future, Addie! Pay attention.

She underlined ‘listen’ three times.

Biting back a sigh, she tried to force her attention back to the conversation—the negotiations—but the lawyer was droning on and on in that barely varying monotone. If he’d been speaking German she’d have had a reason for tuning out, but he was speaking English with an American accent and it should’ve had her riveted, but...

For heaven’s sake, the subject matter was so dry and dull that he could’ve had the most gorgeous and compelling voice in the world and she’d still tune out. She mentally scrubbed property developer off her list of potential future jobs. And lawyer.

She glanced at Flynn again. He wore a charcoal business suit and looked perfect. Didn’t he feel the slightest effect from jet lag? Perhaps he really was a machine?

She bit back another sigh. Perhaps he was just a seasoned world traveller who was used to brokering million-dollar deals.

The figures these two were bandying about had almost made her eyes pop. She’d wanted to tug on Flynn’s sleeve and double-check that he really wanted to invest that much money in a German brewery.

Sure, he was an Aussie guy. Aussie guys—and girls, for that matter—and beer went hand in hand. But there were limits, surely? Even for high-flying Flynn.

Still, she knew what it was like to have a childhood dream. Good luck to him for making his a reality.

She had a sudden vision of him galloping across the fields at Lorna Lee’s on Blossom. She leaned back. Did he really prefer this kind of wheeling and dealing to—?

‘Record that number, please, Adelaide.’

She started and glanced at the lawyer, who barked a series of numbers at her. She scribbled them down. Was it a phone number or a fax number? For all she knew it was a serial number for... She drew a blank. She scrawled a question mark beside it.

In her pocket her phone vibrated. She silently thanked the patron saint of personal assistants for giving her the insight to switch it to silent. She slid it out and her lips lifted. A message from Frank. She clicked on it, eager for news from home.

This man of Flynn’s wants to get rid of Bruce Augustus.

Her hand clenched about the phone. She shot to her feet. ‘Over my dead body!’

The lawyer broke off. Both he and Flynn stared at her. She scowled at Flynn. ‘This foreman of yours and I are going to have serious words.’

He cocked an eyebrow.

She recalled where they were and what they were supposed to be doing and cleared her throat, took her seat again. ‘Later,’ she murmured. ‘We’ll have our serious words later.’

But she messaged back to Frank.

If he does he dies. Text me his number.

Flynn stretched out a long leg, leaning further back in his chair, reminding her even more vividly of a King Brown. Addie pocketed her phone and kept a close eye on him.

‘So what you’re in effect telling me, Herr Gunther, is that there’s going to be a delay in probate.’

When Flynn spoke she had no trouble whatsoever paying attention. The lawyer hummed and hawed and tried to squeeze his way out of the corner Flynn had herded him into, but there was no evading Flynn. She wondered if he’d ever camp drafted. She’d bet he’d be good at it. With those shoulders...

She blinked and shifted on her seat. She didn’t care about shoulders. What she cared about was Bruce Augustus.

And getting off the farm.

She rolled her eyes. Yeah, right, as if she’d scaled the heights of PA proficiency today. She’d need to do better if she wanted this job for real.

You have a month.

‘Are you familiar with the law firm Schubert, Schuller and Schmidt?’

The lawyer nodded.

‘I’ve hired them to represent me. You’ll be hearing from them.’

‘I—’

Flynn rose and the lawyer’s words bumbled to a halt. Addie stood too and fixed the lawyer with what she hoped was a smile as pleasantly cool as Flynn’s. Thank goodness this was over.

‘Thank you for your time, Herr Gunther. It was most instructive.’

Was it? Addie ushered the lawyer towards the door with an inane, ‘Have a nice day, Herr Gunther,’ all the while impatience building inside her.

The door had barely closed before she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and punched in Howard’s number.

‘What’s he done?’ Flynn asked as she strode back towards the table.

‘Nothing you need to worry about. I’ll deal with it.’

He opened his mouth and it suddenly occurred to her what nicely shaped lips he had. It wasn’t something she generally noticed about a man, but Flynn definitely—

‘Hello?’

She snapped to attention. ‘Howard, it’s Adelaide Ramsey.’

He swore. ‘Do you know what time it is in Australia?’

‘I don’t care what time it is.’ That only made it worse. It meant Frank and Jeannie had been fretting till all hours. ‘Now listen to me very carefully. If you harm one hair on Bruce Augustus’s head, if you try to send him to the knackers, I will have your guts for garters. Do you hear me?’

‘But—’

‘No buts!’

‘Look, Addie, I understand—’

‘Have you ever owned a farm, Howard?’ She shifted, suddenly aware of how closely Flynn watched her. She swallowed and avoided eye contact.

‘No.’

‘Then you don’t understand.’

A pause followed. ‘The boss has given me the authority to make changes, Addie, and Bruce Augustus is dead wood.’

Dead wood! She could feel herself start to shake.

‘I have the boss’s ear and—’

She snorted. ‘You have his ear? Honey, I have more than his ear. I’m going to be your boss when I return home—you realise that, don’t you? You do not want to get on the wrong side of me.’

Silence sounded and this time Howard didn’t break it. ‘Goodnight, Howard.’ With that she snapped her phone shut and swung to face Flynn.

His lips twitched. ‘Sorted, huh?’

Was he laughing at her? She narrowed her gaze and pocketed her phone. ‘Absolutely.’

He lowered himself to the sofa. ‘Can you tell me exactly why Bruce Augustus is necessary to Lorna Lee’s future?’

‘Because if he goes—’ she folded her arms ‘—I go.’

He leaned forward and she found herself on the receiving end of a gaze colder than a Munich winter. ‘We have a deal. You signed a contract.’

She widened her stance. ‘You mess with my bull and the deal’s off. There’s a six-week cooling-off period to that contract, remember? You threaten my bull and I’ll pull out of the sale.’

He leaned back. She couldn’t read his expression at all. ‘You mean that,’ he eventually said.

She tried to stop her shoulders from sagging and nodded. She meant it.

‘Why is he so important to you?’

She would never be able to explain to him what a friend the bull had been to her. It was pointless even to try. ‘You said one of the reasons you wanted me to remain at Lorna Lee’s was due to the affinity I have with the animals.’

‘I believe the term I used was stock.’

‘You can use whatever term you like—you can try and distance yourself from them—but it doesn’t change what they are.’

‘Which is?’

‘Living creatures that provide us with our livelihoods. We have a culture at Lorna Lee’s of looking after our own. I consider it a duty. That’s where my so-called affinity comes from. When an animal provides us with good service we don’t repay that by getting rid of them when they’re past their use-by date. They get to live out their days in easy retirement. If that’s a culture you can’t live with, Flynn, then you’d better tell me now.’

He pursed his lips and continued to survey her. It took all of her strength not to fidget. ‘I can live with it,’ he finally said. ‘Do you want it in writing?’

Very slowly she let out a breath. ‘No. I believe you’re a man of your word.’

He blinked. She held out her hand and he rose and shook it.

For no reason at all her heart knocked against her ribs. She pulled her hand free again, but her heart didn’t stop pounding.

‘Howard?’ Flynn held his cell phone to his ear.

‘Yes, I do. Just...don’t touch the bull.’

He listened then. Obviously to the other man’s justifications. She scowled. There were no justifications for—

‘Howard wants to know if you’re okay with him dredging the dam in the western paddock of the Seymour place...’

Oh, yes, that was long overdue.

‘...extending the irrigation system on the southern boundary...’

There’d be money for that?

‘...and installing solar panels on the roofs of all the homesteads?’

She swallowed and nodded. ‘Those things all sound great. I don’t have a problem with improvements.’

Flynn spoke to Howard for a few moments more and then rang off.

She swung back to him. ‘When I return to the farm, who’s going to be in charge—him or me?’

‘I’ll be in charge, Addie.’

Oops, that was right. Still, if rumour were anything to go by, Flynn didn’t stay in any one spot for too long.

‘You and Howard will have authority over different areas. You’ll be in charge of the breeding programme. He’ll be in charge of overseeing major improvements. I’ll be overseeing the two of you.’

Unless she managed to change his mind by turning into the perfect PA. Which reminded her...

‘I’m sorry I had that outburst in the meeting.’

He shrugged. ‘It needed something to liven it up.’

It didn’t change the fact that she should’ve had more presence of mind than to shout out during a business meeting. She bit her lip and glanced at him. ‘So, you didn’t find that meeting riveting?’

‘Absolutely not.’

She sagged. ‘I thought it might’ve just been me. Jet lag or something.’ She retrieved her notebook and handed it to him. ‘I’m really sorry, but my mind kept drifting off.’

He laughed when he read her notes—or lack of them.

‘I promise to do better next time.’

He handed the notebook back. ‘I only asked you to jot things down to keep myself awake.’

She wrinkled her nose. ‘Are all business meetings that dull?’

‘Not at all. Herr Gunther was just doing his best to bore and obfuscate.’

He’d succeeded with her. ‘Why?’

‘Because he favours one of my rivals and is hoping this other party can get a jump on me somehow.’

‘There’s a rival?’

‘There’re several, but only the one we need worry about.’

‘Will this rival get a jump on you? Should we be worried?’

His eyes suddenly blazed and one of his hands clenched. ‘I say bring it on. The harder and the dirtier the battle, the more satisfying it’ll be.’

Really?

‘Regardless of the cost, Addie, this is one battle I mean to win.’

She swallowed. Right.

‘The upshot of the meeting is that there’s been a delay in processing probate.’

The one thing Addie had fathomed from the meeting was that the person who’d owned the premises that housed the brewery and beer hall had recently died. Hence the reason the property would soon be on the market. The probate referred to the reading of this man’s will so his estate could be finalised.

‘Herr Gunther will try to draw that delay out for as long as he can, but we’re not going to let him.’

That made them sound thrillingly powerful and masterful. She clapped her hands. ‘So?’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘So?’

‘What next? Do we head over to these Schubert, Schuller and Schmidt’s of yours and come up with a game plan?’

‘They already have my instructions. You, Adelaide Ramsey, have the rest of the day off to do whatever you want.’

Really? That was the entirety of her work for the day?

‘Go out and explore. Sightsee.’ He glanced up when she didn’t move. ‘If I need you I have your mobile number. I’ll call you if something comes up.’

Right. She gathered up her things.

‘And, Addie?’

She turned in the doorway. ‘Yes?’

‘Have fun.’

Oh, she meant to, but she wouldn’t be sightseeing in this gorgeous and compelling city. At least, not this afternoon. If she wanted to convince Flynn that she was perfect PA material, she had work to do.

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