Chapter One "You did what?" Zoe O'Malley shrieked into the phone. Tempted as she was to hang up on Tiffany, Zoe clenched her teeth. They'd been good friends for too long. She stared at the ticket and the letter, which she'd tossed across her desk. Desperate and Dateless Mystery Ball. The words seemed to jump off the paper and smack her in the face. "What the hell did you do that for, Tiff? How do you think that makes me feel? I'm not desperate and dateless. I have Dennis. How could you send in an entry under my name?" Her jaw tightened. Wait until she got her hands on Tiffany. "It's all in good fun," Tiffany replied carelessly. "Fun? What made you think I'd be interested in going to a ball with a partner chosen by a computer, for heaven's sake? Why didn't you volunteer yourself instead?" There was a soft chuckle from the other end of the phone. "Don't get your knickers in a knot, Zoe. It will be fun. Besides, I did send in an entry of my own. Your partner doesn't have to be taken seriously. But you never know. He may turn out to be Mr. Right. Put it down to a pleasant experience, whatever way it goes." "Pleasant? The guy might be a total jerk, unable to dance. He'll probably be a lecherous slimy creep who can't get a date any other way than via computer." Zoe stopped for a much needed breath. She shuddered as she gazed out of her office window. Working from home had its advantages. There was no one to eavesdrop on her conversation. "I'm sure he wouldn't go to a ball voluntarily if he couldn't dance," Tiffany said calmly. "Anyway, what have you got to lose?" "Dennis. What will he think?" "Don't tell him. He doesn't tell you everything he does. Do you think Dennis will really care? His idea of a date is spending Saturday night with you in the pits at the drag races." "Just because you don't like him, Tiff--" "That's got nothing to do with it. The guy's a total jerk. A petrol head. What did he do for you on Valentine's Day? When was the last time he took you dining and dancing? Or somewhere romantic? When Zoe?" She thought hard. "We went to his office party at Christmas." Tiffany sighed in exasperation. "He took you there only because the booze and the food were free and he wanted to show his friends that he could attract a girl like you. A big difference than wanting to show you off to his workmates because he's proud of you." "I feel safe with Dennis. He's non-demanding, comfortable to have around." Zoe wondered why she was so eager to spring to his defense. "Yeah, like a pair of tatty old slippers. Eventually you have to replace them. He's about as exciting as a wet blanket in a thunderstorm." Tiffany continued. "He's not that bad. At least he's company to go out with." Zoe tried to ignore the contradictory voice in her head. "You're a soft touch, Zoe. You'll waste your life if you stick with the likes of Dennis. Where's your sense of adventure anyway? You used to be so much fun. Think about it. The ball could be the event which changes your life." Zoe breathed deeply. She hated to admit it, but there was an element of truth in what Tiffany said. She'd been quite happy to drift along with Dennis. He'd been just what she needed after the split with Rick. Though lately, she'd been a little uncomfortable with Dennis' laid back attitude towards her. She was ready for some excitement in her life. But this? "All right Tiff, I'll think about it, but I'm not saying I'll go." "Yes, you will," Tiffany said. "You have to. The ball raises money for charity. Apart from that, the guy you're matched with will depend on you to be his date. Arranging partners is done on good faith. You don't want to let him down, now, do you?" "You should have thought of that when you volunteered my name." Zoe sighed into the receiver. "Like I said, I'll think about it, but I'm not making any promises." "Good girl. You know I don't give up easily. I'll call you in a day or two. Zoe?" "Yes?" "I did this only because I care about you." "I know that," Zoe said softly. "Oh, and Zoe?" "Yes?" "One last thing."

"Yes Tiff."

"Dennis is a jerk!" There was a click at the other end of the phone as Tiffany hung up.

Zoe slammed down the receiver and threw her hands in the air. All she wanted was a morning's peace to finish drafting the article she'd promised for one of her clients.

As she tried to work, she couldn't concentrate on the job at hand. Tiffany's phone call bothered her more than she cared to admit.

She wasn't desperate and dateless. Well, she wasn't, was she? She'd never thought of herself that way. At least Dennis did take her out, even if it was to the car races. She grimaced and absently raised a hand to fiddle with her earring.

Tiff was right. It had been a long time since she'd been on a real date. Too long. Real dates were intimate dinners for two, soft lights, romantic music, dancing, atmosphere, fun. Outings with Dennis had quickly veered away from that path. Yes, perhaps she was just a little desperate and dateless. With a sigh, she decided that whoever had coined the phrase definitely had her in mind.

The sound of the doorbell pried her from her daydream. As if she didn't have enough problems. Now those kids next door continued to play their tricks, ringing her doorbell, making a nuisance of themselves. Well, she'd take action and put an end to their fun once and for all. It was something she should have done weeks ago. With a sigh, she pushed back her chair and headed for the kitchen.

She filled a large plastic jug with iced water from the refrigerator and made her way to the front door. The bell didn't seem to ring in quite the same demanding manner as before, but its insistent noise was getting on her nerves. She'd enjoy this!

In one smooth movement, she unlatched the door, flung it open and immediately tossed the contents of the jug through the air. "How do you like that guys," she said, thoroughly pleased with herself. But instead of her dripping, eleven-year-old twin neighbors, her doorway was graced by a tall dark-haired man in an expensive drenched suit.

She gaped at the man in horror. His expression passed from surprise to anger. Piercing blue eyes were as icy as the water she'd tossed at him.

"Oh...oh, ohmigod. I'm sorry," Zoe gasped, wishing she could reverse her actions, wanting to slink away and close the door. "I...I thought you were the twins!"

"No, lady, there's only one of me. Is this the way you usually treat, or should I say, mistreat, your children?"

"No, of course not," she snapped. "And they're not my children."

"Well, I'm sure they're grateful for that," he said, a hint of sarcasm in his deep rich voice. "If they aren't your children, then what will their mother think about the way you treat her precious offspring?"

"Precious offspring! If they were so precious, she'd keep a closer watch on the mischief they cause around the neighborhood."

Her gaze flicked back to his dripping jacket. She wished she could click her fingers and disappear as if this untimely moment had never happened. She shut the door, slumped against it and swore softly.

The doorbell rang, the sharp demanding sound making her jump. She groaned. Why didn't he just leave? Perhaps if she ignored it, he'd take the hint and go. But the sound of the doorbell became more insistent. Zoe looked down. Her fingers still clasped the handle of the jug. She could always refill it. With an exasperated sigh, she turned, grabbed the knob and flung the door open.

He sidestepped quickly, his gaze flicking to the jug. Zoe looked down then back up at him. He smiled, a hint of a twinkle in his blue eyes. She felt a slight tug on her heart, mixed with relief that she hadn't acted on her wayward thoughts.

He raised a hand to keep the door from closing again and wedged his foot inside. "Hey, not so fast. I don't believe my business here is finished yet. May I come in?"

"Looks like you're already in," she said. "What do you want?"

His eyes narrowed on her. "Look," he said, "can we start again? I'm Liam Reynolds. I'm looking for Zoe's Word."

His name sounded familiar. Zoe gasped. "Ah, you're my twelve o'clock appointment."

Goodness, where had the morning gone? She glanced at her watch. "You're over an hour early," she exclaimed, then cringed, not meaning to imply his premature arrival was an imposition.

"I did try to phone first, but your line was busy. I knew then you were in and thought I'd take the chance and turn up. Just think, if I hadn't, I'd have saved myself a drenching."

Zoe's cheeks flushed. Her gaze moved to the damp patches on his jacket. "Look, I'm sorry. It was an honest mistake. I'm not in the habit of drowning my clients and am more than happy to pay for the dry-cleaning of your jacket--the whole suit if you prefer."

The corners of his mouth curved slowly upwards. As if the incident just rolled off him as easily as the water dripped from his clothes. It was such a melting smile, Zoe didn't know whether to be angry or charmed.

"There's no need," he said calmly. "A bit of water won't hurt." His blue gaze swept over her and Zoe didn't miss the spark of interest in his eyes. He held out his hand.

His grip was warm, firm, reassuring as he cradled her small hand in his. She was almost sorry when he released her.

"Well, Mr. Reynolds, you'd better come in." She stepped back, allowing him entrance to her home, and intensely aware of him as he followed her down the hall.

As a rule she held initial meetings with clients in their offices. She just couldn't think at this moment why she'd strayed from her usual practice. A new client invading the safety of her personal domain and the embarrassing episode at the front door left her feeling extremely vulnerable.

And Liam Reynolds was the best looking man she'd been this close to in some time.

She'd read about this vital, energetic man who recently established a management consultant agency in town. He'd quickly become hot property in the local business community. It was a real coup that he'd come to her to prepare the modules for the training seminars and workshops his agency proposed to offer.

And he looked every bit the successful businessman he'd been reported to be, or at least, he did until she'd doused him with ice water. She'd never forget that as long as she lived.

"How long have you been in business as a freelance writer?" His pleasantly rich voice broke into her thoughts.

"Just a few months." Zoe hoped she didn't sound inexperienced and unable to provide the quality service he would expect. She was about to relate to him details of her considerable portfolio, but he didn't give her the opportunity.

"You enjoy it?"

"Yes. Working from home allows me a degree of freedom that I didn't have before. I'm more at ease putting in the long hours here when I need to rather than working in an office in town." That was only part of the reason she liked working from home, she reminded herself.

"Don't you miss the contact of working with others?"

"Just occasionally, but not enough to make me want to go back to that kind of environment." No, not as long as there were people like Rick Caldwell lurking behind office doors.

He followed her into a spacious, airy office. "This is very pleasant," he said appreciatively. "No wonder you prefer working from here."

Zoe smiled. She was proud of this room. Her choice of softly colored decor and the view of the leafy courtyard garden reflected a comfortable relaxed atmosphere.

"If you look out of the other window you can see clear to the Brindabellas," she said, opening the vertical blinds to expose the blue sunkissed mountains. Today, they looked particularly sharp outlined against the clear summer sky. "I never get tired of the view."

"Living in Canberra has its advantages," he said.

"Yes, it certainly does. Take a seat." She waved her hand towards a low round table and comfortable looking easy chairs. "Would you like a coffee?"

He declined her offer and removed his jacket before sitting down.

"Let me hang that up for you." His jacket had a sweet pine fragrance that mingled with the damp smell of the fine cloth sliding between her fingers. She draped it over a hanger on the coat rack by the door.

"Ms...Zoe. You are Zoe, I take it?" He looked directly at her.

In the embarrassment that followed the fiasco at the front door, she'd forgotten to introduce herself. The memory made her wince. She didn't want to lose this client and so far, she hadn't delivered her usually cool, professional image. It was a wonder he still wanted her for the job. "Yes, I'm Zoe O'Malley."

Those clear bright eyes were still focussed on her, refusing to allow her any peace, not even for a moment. She swallowed. The sooner they got down to business and he was out of her sight, the better. His presence was too disconcerting by far.

And he was easy on the eyes. She took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. "I look forward to working with you. From the outline you faxed me, it looks as if your proposals will prove challenging."

"Not too much for you, I trust." His blue eyes narrowed.

She held his gaze with some degree of difficulty. "No, not at all. I do thrive on challenge, except in the shape of eleven-year-old twins." She smiled, hoping she redeemed herself, even just a little, in his eyes. "They do sometimes bring out the worst in me." Heavens. Now she sounded like she was making excuses for behaving like a prize idiot. This morning her professional image, she was convinced, had been shot to hell.

"Whose children are they?" A thick dark eyebrow raised just slightly and a curious expression touched his face.

"They live next door." Zoe looked away just briefly, but his next question caused her to observe him more closely.

"Oh. Don't you like children?"

"Don't get me wrong. I do, but in small doses, especially those two. I expect I'll be quite fond of my own when the time comes."

"Let's hope so or God knows what you'd do to them." He grinned.

Zoe felt a curious flutter in her stomach. His face hinted at mischief when he smiled and the twinkle in his eyes didn't help dispel the image. With an effort, Zoe dragged her mind back to business.

"Now Mr. Reynolds, what exactly can I do for you?"

"First of all, Zoe, if we're going to be working together, seeing quite a bit of each other, I'd rather you called me Liam."

Seeing quite a bit of each other. Zoe's heart raced at the prospect and she tried to focus on just what that meant. He's a client. Pull yourself together, for goodness sake.

She swallowed and absently fingered the fine silver chain which nestled between her breasts. "Now then Liam, what exactly can I do for you?"

Liam explained his requirements for the seminar material he wanted her to prepare. "I'd do it myself, but just don't have the time at present. If this works out, I may have more work for you."

Sounds promising, Zoe thought, hoping from now on she would make a good impression on him. Goodness knows what he thought of her so far. Having the much sought after Reynolds Consultant agency as her client would bring a certain prestige to her new business.

Zoe taped his suggestions and ideas, made some notes, adding a few thoughts of her own. She was pleased when he agreed with her concepts.

"I have some samples of my work. Would you like to look them over?"

"Yes, excellent idea." He picked up her notes from the table and began to glance through them.

Zoe moved to the fax machine, reached across and grabbed her display book from the shelf above it. The thick binder slipped from her fingers and slid against the wall behind the machine. Zoe silently cursed her uncharacteristic clumsiness.

She stretched to retrieve the book when, to her dismay, her fine silver chain caught in the narrow slit where the fax machine joined its cover. Even with all her tugging, the machine refused to relinquish the chain. And the lever to release the offending cover was out of her reach. Zoe felt her cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red than before.

Raising her arms, she reached around and fumbled with the clasp. It was difficult to unfasten at the best of times. But now, it had slipped to one side and proved even more troublesome than usual.

Cursing herself for the delay in replacing the old fax machine weeks ago for one of the latest, smoother lined models, there was nothing for it but to ask for Liam's help. From the corner of her eye, she stole a glance in his direction. He wasn't even aware of her predicament! Her notes took all his concentration.

"I...seem to be trapped," she murmured into the machine. Though she attempted to turn to face him, she was stuck fast. The more she tugged at the chain, the less it seemed inclined to free itself.

"Do you think you could help me?" She pleaded, feeling a complete and utter fool in front of this extremely appealing man.

He rose to his feet and moved towards her. Leaning over to catch her eye, he smiled as his gaze met hers. "I think we can get you out of there without too much bother."

Zoe's insides shriveled in embarrassment.

He stood right beside her, his body a breath away from hers. She wondered what sort of a picture they made--him towering there behind her, almost on top of her, and she stuck fast, covering the fax machine with her own body.

The fragrant pine smell of his after-shave wafted around her. She could feel his body heat as he leaned closer. His warm breath, sweeter than she'd expected, tickled her cheek.

Did her own breath smell as fresh as his did? She almost didn't want to breathe in case it didn't.

His fingers began to touch her hair, tickle her neck. She froze, trying to quell the panicky feeling beginning low in her stomach. "W-what?"

"Can you lift your hair away from the clasp?" he asked again. "Even though your hair is fairly short, it's still in the way."

"I...I think so." How she hated sounding like a helpless female. She lifted her arms and fumbled with her hair, pulling it away from the chain's clasp.

As he worked to undo the stubborn catch, she sensed a kind of gentleness in his firm warm touch. But there was power and strength as well. Zoe tensed. How would she ever live down this moment in her mind? It would haunt her forever.

Finally the clasp opened. "There, you can stand up now." Liam placed his hand gently under her elbow, giving her the leverage she needed.

"Thank you," she said, looking up into smiling eyes, trapped by the nearness of his strong body.

He leaned closer, and she held her breath. Reaching out, he flicked back the cover of the fax machine, retrieved her chain, and with a wicked smile, handed it to her.

"Do you want to wear it? I'll fasten the clasp for you if you like."

Zoe stood there, mesmerized, sure she was gaping at him. She couldn't even make a simple decision, give a simple answer, such was his effect on her. Where had the cool, calm Zoe, always in control of herself, disappeared to? She moved her mouth to speak, but there was no sound.

"Turn around," he said softly, fingering the chain.

Obediently, she did as he asked. He placed the chain around her neck and she lowered her head to allow him clear access to the clasp. She closed her eyes. Her nerves screamed. Relax, O'Malley, relax. He'll be through in a minute. She breathed in the sweet crispness of his after-shave. How could a day which began in so ordinary a fashion, turn out so strange?

"All done," he said, his voice deep and rich. His hands rested lightly on her shoulders and he turned her around.

She looked up at him. There was something about his smile--it wasn't mocking as she'd expected. It was more...well, comforting. As if he understood her embarrassment. Swept up in the blue gaze focussed on her, Zoe wondered what he was thinking.

"You're earring is almost out." His husky voice sent pleasant little ripples zipping down her spine.

"What?" she breathed.

His warm touch on the softness of her earlobe as he gently readjusted the hook of her earring caused Zoe's heart to pitter-patter. She willed it to stop. If it got any louder he'd hear.

"They're most unusual earrings." He said as his hands rested lightly on her shoulders once again.

Zoe tried to think. Which ones was did she have on? She'd collected several pairs of unusual earrings since having her ears pierced.

"A spider dangling from one ear and its web dangling on the other. Most unusual."

Ah, those earrings. "My friend gave them to me for Halloween."

He raised an eyebrow. "Your friend has, er...extraordinary tastes."

"Yes, she has." Zoe smiled. "She's an extraordinary person." Liam lowered his head towards her so slightly that Zoe wasn't sure whether she'd imagined it. His gaze lingered on her. He looked as if he were about to say something, or kiss her, heaven forbid, but instead, his fingers tightened on her shoulders briefly, then released her.

"Now, do you think we could we get back to work?" Without waiting for her answer, he retrieved the troublesome display folder and returned to his chair.

Zoe nodded dazedly as he turned away. Disappointment seeped through her trembling body. What on earth was the matter with her? Why couldn't she move? Was it because she didn't trust her wobbly knees to support her as she made her way back to the chair?

She took a deep breath, her gaze resting on Liam as he looked through her folder of samples, oblivious to her assessment of him. She couldn't help but notice how well the breadth of his shoulders and chest filled the fabric of his shirt. And when he stood, he towered over her.

Obviously he wasn't bothered by their closeness of a moment ago. Just as obvious to her was the fact that she was. Extremely bothered. Hot and bothered.

Never become involved with clients. Wasn't that the standard she'd set herself? Maybe she could bend, just a little, just this once. Liam Reynolds was certainly tempting. She closed her eyes. Not a good move, O'Malley. Remember, you've had your fingers burned before. You know better than to break the rules.

Her heart sank. How was she ever going to keep her mind on business and maintain a working relationship with this man if she weakened at the knees every time he came close to her?

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