Page 24 of The Powerful Boss She Craves

‘I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or a criticism. Do you want me to push and pry?’

Micah shuddered. ‘God, no!’

Ella pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘It’s raining hard, and the road is busy. I don’t think it’s a good time for deep and intense conversations, Micah.’

Right. Okay then. Maybe it was better if they didn’t talk; he did need to concentrate. But after five minutes, curse him, he did start to miss the sound of her voice. He turned to look at her, thinking they could discuss something, anything, but found her curled up on the seat, fast asleep.

She remained like that until they hit the outskirts of Johannesburg.

CHAPTER SEVEN

ELLAPULLEDUPnext to a BMW convertible, top down, and lifted her bag off her passenger seat, hauling in a series of deep breaths to calm her racing heart. Micah had dropped her at her flat yesterday and kissed her goodbye without making arrangements for them to meet over the weekend. Ella had tried hard, really hard, not to feel disappointed. They’d only slept together, she reminded herself, they weren’t in a relationship.

So she was surprised to get a text message that morning, demanding her presence at a meeting at Hadleigh House at ten. Ella had thought she’d spend her Saturday morning researching venues in Parys but here she was, ten minutes early, at one of the oldest and most historic estates in the city. Ella stepped out of the car, slammed the door and looked up at the magnificent, massive double-storey house with its shingled roof and ivy-covered walls.

Curious, she ignored the imposing front door, walked round the side of the house and sighed at the magnificent English-style country garden, the old and dignified oak trees and the dark-blue swimming pool.

It would make the most magnificent wedding venue, Ella decided. If Thadie pared down her guest list and decided to have a garden wedding, she could maybe accommodate two, three hundred people here, maybe more. Back in the day, this house had been the gathering place for the elite of Johannesburg mining society, and the house had played host to soirées, balls and tennis parties. She could see a huge, romantic tent on the deep-green swathe of lawn to her right, fairy lights in the trees, a gazebo holding a dance floor, roses floating on the surface of that huge pool...

But the idea of having a wedding here sparked a memory. She dimly recalled another house, old and lovely, somewhere in this area. It was another old Victorian, one of the grandest mansions in the city. She’d read about it when she’d first come to the city and for some reason—she knew not what—it floated into her brain when she thought about a garden wedding.

The Le Rouxs could make another fortune hiring out Hadleigh House. With its thick, lush lawn, extensive, colourful rose garden and magnificent trees, it was the perfect venue for an intimate wedding. But Thadie and Clyde didn’t want intimate, they wanted a glitzy, glam, see-and-be-seen wedding. And there were few places that weren’t soulless convention centres that could give them what they wanted—romance and soul, luxury and loveliness.

‘Welcome to Hadleigh House.’

Ella smiled, turned around slowly and saw Micah standing on the cobbled path behind her. His hair was damp and pushed back from his face, which still hadn’t seen a razor, and he was dressed in a navy linen shirt, white tailored shorts and expensive leather flip-flops. He looked as though he could star in one of those glamourous adverts for perfumes Ella couldn’t afford, which always seemed to be set in the Ionian Seas.

She wanted him to take her to bed. Right now.

Ella gave herself a mental slap and pulled what she hoped was an impersonal smile onto her face. ‘Nice place, Micah.’

He looked round and she caught the flash of affection in his eyes, pride on his face. ‘It’s home. I love it here.’

He didn’t make a move to usher her into the house so Ella stayed where she was, happy to feel the sun on her bare shoulders. She wore a pale-blue and white sleeveless jumpsuit today and flat-soled sandals. She’d pulled her hair up into a messy knot on top of her head and wore minimal make-up. It was, after all, a Saturday.

Ella looked up and counted ten windows widely spaced on the second floor of the mansion. ‘Big place,’ she observed.

He nodded his agreement. ‘I live here with my twin, Jago. We recently renovated the house and we have separate, private apartments in each wing, though we currently share the kitchen, downstairs entertainment areas, the deck, pool and, obviously, the garden. If either of us decide to bite the bullet and marry—’

‘A fate worse than death,’ Ella said, her tongue in her cheek.

He lifted his eyebrows. ‘For me, it would be.’

It was a warning, Ella thought, a subtle way to remind her that, while they’d slept together, there was no possibility of more. The warning was unnecessary because trust was impossible. And a relationship without trust was a bird without wings.

Not waiting for her to comment on his answer, he continued. ‘As I was saying, if we want more privacy, Hadleigh can provide enough space and distance to make it feel like two separate homes.’

Micah gestured for her to join him on the path and she followed him around the corner of the building to a vast, covered entertainment area featuring an outdoor kitchen, bar, gas barbecues, a dining table that could seat twenty and many plump couches and outdoor chairs.

Nice. Very nice indeed.

‘Are you and your twin close?’ Ella asked him, smiling at the two hammocks strung from the beams in the far corner of the veranda.

‘Very,’ Micah told her, placing a hand on her back as they hit the slate steps leading up to the veranda. Ella wished she could simply hang out in the space, maybe lie on one of those luxurious loungers beside the pool, take a dip, or sit in the ten-man hot tub.

‘Jago won’t be at this meeting. It’ll just be Thadie and her bridesmaid Alta, Clyde’s stepsister.’

She followed Micah across the veranda into another outdoor seating area, which could be closed off from the elements with bi-fold doors. This room sported black-and-white-striped couches, cherry-red armchairs, bold cushions and even bolder art on the walls. Ella, in sensory overload, was finding it difficult to concentrate. There was so much to look at and take in.

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