Page 55 of His Own Heaven

All of them were welcoming, if a little wary, and eager to discuss their roles in the business. Ashley, the young woman who ran the tiny café inside the main building, seemed very appreciative of Lucy’s arrival.

And very chatty.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she said, “Toby’s a top bloke, but it’ll be so good to have someone here who actually knows what they’re doing in the front office. I volunteered to fill in while Bec was away but the boss said “no”. Besides some friend’s wedding or something he went to last weekend, I don’t think he’s had a day off in months. And yeah, I’m sad Bec’s not coming back, but it’ll be nice to get things back to normal around here.”

Lucy had sat in the café for a good half hour, sipping coffee and talking to Ashley between customers, and by the time she returned to the office she had a pretty good handle on company gossip mill, who was secretly banging whom, and who to keep an eye on for one reason or another.

She also wondered how long it would take the staff to figure out she was banging their boss, and if any of them truly had a problem with it.

She was pretty sure theories about her scars would be flying thick and fast though.

More than one employee hadthe lookwhile she spoke to them.The lookbeing what Lucy called the expression people always displayed the first few times she spoke to them, before they became comfortable enough with her appearance they either stopped noticing her scars as something out of the ordinary, or stopped caring about how she came to have them and simply accepted they were there to stay.

And it didn’t matter who the person was,the lookwas always the same: head tilted, mouth slightly open, eyes filled with a mixture of pity, horror and morbid curiosity.

Eyes that never made contact.

Except Toby’s. He was the first person she’d met in a very long time who’d looked at her differently. Not once from the moment she’d met him had he looked at her with pity or horror, and his curiosity had never been morbid, simply curious. He found her fascinating and it had nothing to do with her scars at all.

Lucy figured it had more to do with the challenge she’d presented him that had made his head tilt, and the thought of fucking her tight body that had made his lips part.

Yeah. She’d liked Toby’slookone hell of a lot.

By the end of her first day at Bennett’s Gardens and Landscaping, Lucy was quietly confident she could get the place back to peak operational condition—and back under budget, something she’d have to discuss with Toby—within a month. Two, tops.

“Ready to go, baby?” Toby asked, locking his office door.

Lucy shut down her computer and picked up her notebook, the one filled with a to-do list twelve pages long. “We have a lot to talk about over dinner,” she said, holding the notebook aloft.

Toby grabbed the book and tossed it back on her desk. “Not tonight we don’t. Work stays at work, where it belongs.” She opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off before she could speak a single word. “That’s one ofmyrules.”

When Toby arrived at Lucy’s house, he was surprised to find her waiting in her underwear. As surprises went, it wasn’t a bad one, but he distinctly remembered instructing her to wear a dress to dinner.

As he followed her through her meticulously kept house, he took the time to appreciate the white lace of her bra and panties, the way the sumptuous fabric clung to her smooth, soft skin, the way it accentuated her toned physique and luscious arse.

When they reached her bedroom, he pushed her up against the wall, slipped his hand between her thighs and found her panties wet. And almost changed his mind about going out.

Which he was pretty sure was Lucy’s plan all along, and wasn’t one he’d let her get away with.

He may have conceded defeat in the office and let Lucy take the lead—she was right, that was what he hired her for—but outside of work, Toby was in charge.

Still, the downcast direction of her gaze and general gloominess in the air didn’t put him in a punishing frame of mind. Something was wrong with his girl. So he ignored the urge to pull her underwear to one side, sink one thick finger into her eager pussy and fuck her into submission, and followed her advice from that morning.

Toby decided to give talking a go instead.

He smoothed one hand over her hair, petted her, kept his voice soft. “Why aren’t you dressed, baby?”

Lucy’s long hair fell all around her, shrouded her face as she stared at the floor. But Toby didn’t want to talk to the top of her head so he hooked a knuckle under her chin and lifted her face to his.

The misery in her lovely whisky-eyes almost brought him to his knees. An hour ago she’d been eager to see him again, excited for their dinner date. What had happened to make her so miserable?

She swallowed hard. “I was dressed,” she said quietly. “Just as you wanted.” She cast her pitiful gaze to the dress discarded on the floor. The froth of fabric looked like an oversized serving of pink fairy floss and was the only thing in the room out of place. “But I—” She took a deep breath and straightened her spine, lifted her chin higher and looked him dead in the eye. Toby’s chest swelled with pride. His girl was tough. Determined. “I know we said ‘no more hiding’, but that dress made me feel too… exposed.”

“How do you mean?”

“My scars,” she said, sliding her hand over her right shoulder, covering the mottled flesh. “Everyone will see.”

Confusion furrowed Toby’s brow. “Everyone can already see your scars.” He felt like an arse pointing out the obvious, but it was true. Lucy had made no attempt to hide her face and neck from him, the scars there quite prominent and not easily hidden. So why was she upset?

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