Buttoned-Up Secretary, British Boss (12 page)

‘And the only reason I’ve been invited,’ Sabrina went on, ‘is because we’ve had a very busy time of late. Alexander has only just completed the latest novel and things have been a bit tense recently. So he thought we both needed a break—and, as it happened, my own circumstances allowed me to accept his suggestion.’

A slight frown crossed the knowing features. ‘You—you have someone…?’

Sabrina smiled. ‘No—at the moment, I’m quite free,’
she replied, wilfully misunderstanding Simone’s enquiry. ‘For a little while, I’m fun and fancy free!’

Simone’s expression cleared. ‘I am so happy to hear that,’ she said. She stood up to fetch more coffee from the stove, and turned to look at Sabrina. ‘I hope you will have a really good time here,’ she said. ‘You and Alex…together. He deserves someone to teach him one or two things.’

‘I’m not sure what you mean by that,’ Sabrina said, smiling.

‘To teach him how to be a living person—a man,’ Simone said firmly. ‘And to open his heart.’

Only a French person could have said something like that, Sabrina thought, shrugging inwardly. She wondered how much of Alexander’s past Simone and Marcel knew—about his parents, of the rather strange relationship Lydia had with her sons.

‘Oh, I don’t think we need worry about Alexander,’ Sabrina said lightly. ‘I’m sure there have been many women in his life.’

‘Ah
oui
, of course!’ Simone agreed firmly. ‘
Affaires
…naturally! But, love?’ She nibbled thoughtfully on another almond. ‘I am talking about the sort of love that only happens in sound relationships: family ties—commitment.’

‘I’ve the feeling that Alexander would rather have a fit than a family!’ Sabrina said, smiling at the thought. ‘I’m sure he could never tolerate children getting under his feet. In that respect, he’s the typical loner, I’m afraid,’ she added.

Simone sipped at her wine. ‘You’re wrong, Sabrina,’ she said. She put her glass down and leant forward, her elbows on the table. ‘Our first grandchild was born a couple of years ago, and she was about six months old
when Alex saw her. My daughter brought her over for a visit, and he was here. And he was—how shall I say?—
enchanté
! He could not take his eyes off her! And he has showered her with gifts ever since. In fact, he is godfather to our precious baby.’

Sabrina could hardly believe this. Alexander and…
babies
?

‘I hope he didn’t drop her at the font,’ she said only half-jokingly, and Simone threw her hands in the air.

‘Drop her? He handled that child as if he’d had six of his own! It was difficult for anyone else to get a look in, because he wanted her all to himself!’

If Sabrina had just been told that Alexander McDonald had beaten Edmund Hillary to the top of Everest, she couldn’t be more surprised at what Simone had just told her. But before any more discussion could go on, the two men came in from the patio.

‘I’m suddenly beginning to feel rather tired,’ Alexander said, smiling down at Simone. ‘Thanks largely to that magnificent meal, Simone. Thank you so much; as usual, we shall be returning the compliment before we go back home.’

Simone stood up and put her hands on his shoulders. ‘You know how much we love your visits, Alex,’ she said fondly. ‘You don’t come nearly often enough. And it has been a great pleasure to have a lady to talk to this time.’

‘Well, if you want to keep good staff you’ve got to treat them well,’ Alexander said, smiling briefly at Sabrina. ‘Sabrina and I have been keeping our heads down for too long lately.’

After making their goodnights, Alexander led Sabrina the short distance between the two properties. Sabrina admitted that she, too, was looking forward to some sleep. Earlier, she’d been more than relieved to be shown
her own room on the first floor; Alexander apparently always slept on the one above. She’d been prepared for the possibility that he might have expected her to share.

As they let themselves into the Barn, Sabrina glanced up at him.

‘Why do you go in for such massive properties, Alexander?’ she asked casually. ‘This is huge. And so is number thirteen, of course.’

He paused outside her bedroom, looking down at her thoughtfully for a second. ‘Because I like space, that’s all,’ he said. He waited a moment before murmuring, ‘Goodnight, Sabrina. Sleep well.’

Then he turned and went upstairs, and Sabrina heard his tread on the wooden stairway. Slowly, she went into her room and closed the door.

Snuggling down under the luxurious duvet, she tried to imagine which room Alexander was sleeping in. Was it directly above her own, or the one further along? She hadn’t quite got a handle on the geography of the place yet.

It had been a rather wonderful day, she thought sleepily. There was not a single thing she could complain about, anyway. The journey had been pleasant, and Alexander had acted the perfect gentleman the whole time, making her feel comfortable, unthreatened, and for some reason sublimely happy. She smiled faintly in the darkness, remembering everything Simone had told her. Alexander McDonald cuddling a baby in his arms! What a preposterous thought!

The other slightly less preposterous thought was that, if he’d wanted to seduce her, it wouldn’t have taken him too much effort, she admitted!

In his own room, Alexander glanced at himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth vigorously. Despite Sabrina’s initial reluctance to come with him, he knew that she was happy to be here…happy to be here with him. And he also knew that he felt happier than he had for a very long time. She was the first person he’d ever invited to have a break here with him; he’d never wanted to share that solitude he so valued. But, for once, he
wanted
to share—and, if he’d been presented with a vast selection of other human beings to consider, Sabrina would have been his first, his obvious choice.

T
HE
first thing that Sabrina was aware of the next morning was the sound of three short blasts from a horn outside in the road. Of course: the van bringing fresh bread for breakfast. Well, she’d never make it in time to buy any! She hoped Alexander didn’t expect her to take first turn, anyway—even though she must remember that she was still his secretary, his Jill of all trades.

But the next moment, after listening to several excitable voices raised in spirited greetings outside, she heard the heavy door slam and Alexander’s swift tread coming towards her room.

Not bothering to glance at herself in the mirror, Sabrina shrugged on her dressing gown, opened the door—and came face to face with Alexander, who was clutching two large French sticks and a paper bag of something or other.

‘Your turn tomorrow,’ he said, smiling down at her in one appraising glance. The flimsy dressing-gown she had on revealed the tantalizing shape beneath, and her hair—tousled untidily and loose around her face, which was still pale from sleep—caused his senses to spin in mad circles for a second. He swallowed.

‘Did you sleep well?’ he remarked casually.

‘Like the proverbial top,’ Sabrina replied. She hesitated. ‘You’ve clearly been up some time?’

He was bare-footed, his muscular legs brown and glistening, and he was wearing white shorts and a navy T-shirt. His hair was wet and plastered to the sides of his face which was unshaven, a strong line of dark hair shadowing his chin.

‘I’ve been in the pool for half an hour.’ He paused. ‘But I wasn’t going to wake you; we had a long day yesterday.’ He turned to go. ‘I was just coming to tell you it’s nine-thirty already, so let’s have breakfast.’ He turned to go. ‘And don’t bother to get dressed now,’ he added over his shoulder. ‘You can take your time later. All this’ll be ready in five minutes.’

Doing as she was told, Sabrina went back into her bedroom to sponge her face and hands and brush her hair quickly, before going through to join Alexander in the kitchen. The glorious smell of percolating coffee drove her tastebuds crazy.

He had cut the baguettes into generous slices, and laid out butter, jam and honey. Sabrina realized that she was feeling really hungry by now. Especially when she saw the two still-warm pastries he’d bought as well.

‘After that wonderful supper last night, I didn’t think I’d ever want to eat again,’ she said, sitting down at the table and watching as Alexander poured the steaming coffee into two huge, wide cups. He passed her some milk and sugar and sat down opposite.

‘Ah well, that’s what French air does for you,’ he said. ‘Plus being totally relaxed and with no pressures.’

He was right, Sabrina thought as she spread butter onto a slice of bread. She did feel relaxed, had never felt more relaxed in her whole life. She suddenly seemed to be inhabiting a whole new world where nothing really
mattered, quietly amazed at how quickly she and her employer had somehow adapted their relationship. She had that strange feeling once again that they’d known each other for ages. She shrugged inwardly. Perhaps that had something to do with the nearly three days spent ill in his bed.

Later, choosing to wear her dark-green cut-offs and an ivory, loose-fitting top, Sabrina slipped on her flip-flops and went downstairs.

‘I think I’ll show you the area, drive you around a bit this morning,’ Alexander remarked, glancing across at her briefly. She was wearing her hair in one long, thick plait down her back; however she did it, it always seemed to suit the contours of her fine features perfectly—and to leave those intriguing green eyes room to express themselves in a way which fascinated him as much now as it had on the first day he’d met her.

‘Sounds great—whatever you say, Alexander,’ she replied, going over to the window and gazing out. ‘I am in no position to argue about anything,’ she added, smiling, thinking just how much she was enjoying the present situation.

‘I can’t imagine a time when you wouldn’t be prepared to put your point of view, Sabrina,’ he said, coming up to stand alongside her. ‘But in this instance I shall take complete control of our day—and you can complain later if you haven’t enjoyed it.’

The rest of the morning was spent idling through the local countryside. Although it was pretty deserted, as Alexander had said it would be, they did pass along a few clusters of dwellings, and the occasional small garage.

‘Do you, um, do you ever bring other friends here?’ Sabrina asked casually, not looking at him.

‘Certainly not,’ he said as if she should have known that without asking. He clicked his teeth, irritated for a second as he recalled the hundred and one hints Lucinda had made in the past about wanting to visit the Barn with him. ‘I’ve just remembered something. Lucinda—you will recollect having met her, Sabrina?’ This was said with a sardonic twist to his mouth. ‘Lucinda is about to celebrate a rather important birthday soon, I believe. I received my gilt-edged invitation to what will be a ghastly event just before we came away.’

‘That should be fun,’ Sabrina said noncommittally.

‘Probably not,’ he replied. ‘But, as I shan’t be going, it’s irrelevant.’

‘I know where I’m going to buy you lunch,’ Alexander said. ‘It’s a pretty little place, and the village has a rather interesting
château
on the hill.’ He turned to smile at her briefly. ‘The French are big on
châteaux
,’ he added. ‘But the restaurant right by the canal is the one I’ve used before—food’s good.’

As they meandered along lazily, Sabrina could easily see why Alexander loved this area so much. You couldn’t get much further away from civilization, at least as they knew it. But it was interesting scenery, vastly populated by olive trees and vine groves, separated now and then by a narrow river. Suddenly they came upon a small village which, surprisingly, had quite a large shop in the middle of the street they drove along. It had paintings in the windows, and various items of craftware displayed outside. Noticing her leaning forward, Alexander immediately slowed down.

‘Do you want to look?’ he asked.

‘I’d love to,’ Sabrina said at once. ‘I suppose somewhere
like this is bound to attract artists,’ she said, and he nodded.

‘Oh, there are several forms of cottage industry around and about,’ he said. ‘And the French have a formidable eye for business, as I’m sure you know.’

He parked the car and they wandered along, browsing curiously as they went and passing one or two interesting-looking cobble-stoned alley ways before coming to the shop.

‘It’s a surprising place—and there’s lots more to see inside,’ Alexander remarked. After they’d looked at the paintings in the window, they went through to be greeted effusively by a young Frenchwoman.

‘Bonjour, monsieur, mademoiselle…’
She smiled, indicating that they should come inside.

‘
Bonjour
, Colette,’ Alexander said easily. He glanced down at Sabrina. ‘I know you said you were no shopper, but this could well lead you astray, Sabrina,’ he added, before wandering off by himself to look further inside.

Sabrina had to admit that he had a point. It was a fascinating place, much larger than it appeared, and opening into other, smaller areas. For the next half an hour she enjoyed herself picking things up and putting them down again, studying everything that was on sale and wondering whether to buy or not to buy…

As well as quite expensive water-colours, there was a rack of woven scarves and shawls, a display of hand-painted plates, vases and pots of every description. There was a section for local jars of honey, of garlic bulbs in oil, of cherries in syrup, and rows and rows of home-baked biscuits in polythene wrapping. And in a corner by the window there was a display of brightly
coloured, hand-made jewellery, all glistening in the pale sunlight.

She’d been so engrossed in looking around that she’d only been dimly aware that Alexander was further in the shop, having a lengthy conversation with the owner. But just then he emerged, smiling, and glanced at what Sabrina had in her hands.

‘Have you made your choice, then?’ he enquired, and Sabrina handed a scarf and bangle to the French woman.

‘Yes, thanks,’ she said. She looked up at him. ‘Have you bought anything?’

He nodded briefly. ‘Oh, just a small present I needed to get, but it’s rather bulky to take back with us so Colette’s arranging for it to be shipped home later,’ he said.

Well, that was obviously some little gift for Lucinda’s birthday, Sabrina thought. He might not intend to go to her party, but the woman would certainly expect a decent present from someone as rich as Alexander McDonald.

Colette wrapped Sabrina’s gifts carefully before handing them to her, and Sabrina took some euros from her purse. ‘You have a lovely shop,’ she said, and the woman smiled, darting a quick glance at Alexander.

‘Merci, mademoiselle,’
she said. ‘Please do come again soon.’

They went back to the car, and just after one o’clock, they arrived at the other, slightly larger village which Alexander had told Sabrina about. He pulled up outside a restaurant which had a few tables outside standing under brightly coloured canopies which were moving gently in the breeze.

Across the road and through the trees, Sabrina
could see a canal glinting in the sunshine with a well-maintained longboat idling on the water and one or two small craft floating nearby. She was struck again by the whole atmosphere of stillness and quiet. She thought,
I could get to love this place, too.
Time really did seem to stand still.

They strolled over to the restaurant and took their places at one of the tables outside. There were one or two other people already eating, and immediately a waiter came up with a menu. Soon, Alexander and Sabrina began to enjoy the fluffy omelettes they’d ordered, complemented by a bottle of good wine and some cheese.

Leaning back in his chair and watching Sabrina finish the last of her food, Alexander wondered, not for the first time, what lucky chance had sent his current secretary into his life. He hadn’t found a single fault with the way she did her work, or with her attitude at all times. But best of all, he realized, he loved her company.

They left the restaurant a little later and began to walk up towards the
château
Alexander had talked about. This once-beautiful residence, resembling those constructed during the Renaissance, had been built by a noble family but was now largely in ruins. It was a somewhat austere, turreted building standing right on the cusp of the hill, and suddenly the sun went in and Sabrina felt a chilly breeze around her bare arms. She reached into her bag and took out the scarf she’d bought.

‘I think I’m going to need this sooner than I thought,’ she said, coiling it around her neck and shoulders, and Alexander nodded briefly.

‘Well, it is November, and it can get cool quite quickly,’ he said. ‘I hope you came prepared for all weathers.’

‘I most certainly did,’ Sabrina replied, thinking of the thick sweater she’d brought with her.

There was only a small party of French schoolchildren there as well, and Alexander and Sabrina wandered mostly uninterrupted through thick, stone entrances and gaunt passageways, before deciding to go back to the Barn.

‘I think I feel ready for my swim now,’ Sabrina said as they drew up outside.

Alexander smiled across at her. ‘And I’ll join you,’ he said. ‘After I’ve made us a cup of tea.’

Later in her room, as she slipped into her black one-piece bathing suit, Sabrina admitted to feeling worried about everything—about Alexander, and about herself. Because, heaven help her, she knew that she desired him…She’d have had to be made of stone not to want him to touch her, to make love to her—and she had to keep reminding herself over and over again not to get carried away. She did not want, did not need, any emotional turmoil or entanglements with him, or with anyone, that could lead to more disaster in her life.

She went barefoot into the bathroom to fetch a towel to take downstairs, her mind still darting every which way. The good thing was, Alexander had behaved impeccably, almost impersonally, since they’d left the UK. They’d barely brushed against each other at all, she realized, hardly made any physical contact. So, if she’d thought he had an ulterior motive in asking her to come with him, she was obviously mistaken. But every instinct told her that for her part she’d better keep any romantic notions—and her emotions—well under control.

Unfortunately, over the following few days the weather deteriorated considerably. But Alexander and Sabrina
were still able to enjoy their morning swim in the warm water of the pool, and go for long walks; Alexander was clearly intent on showing her this part of the country he loved so much. They also drove to the coast on the one afternoon when the sun reappeared. There was certainly no talk of any writing being done.

They’d been there for more than a week when Sabrina’s mobile rang. That could only be Melly, she thought, who’d rung a few days ago to say that she and Sam were back in the UK.

But it wasn’t Melly; it was Emma, one of Sabrina’s past colleagues who’d been lucky enough to be retained, telling her that an opportunity was coming up which Sabrina should apply for.

‘It’s a new thing they’re initiating,’ Emma explained. ‘And they’ve actually got the funding this time, surprise surprise. And it’s just up your street, Sabrina. As soon as we were told about it, your name was on everyone’s lips. But you’ll have to apply formally. Shall I get the stuff for you and send it over to your house?’

It took Sabrina a few seconds to get her mind into gear. She hadn’t given her own profession a thought lately. ‘I’m on holiday in France at the moment, Emma,’ she said. ‘But we’ll be home at the end of next week.’

‘Who’s
we
?’ Emma asked.

‘Um, I’m here with my employer, actually—it’s a sort of working holiday. Look, I’d be really grateful if you would send me the application form,’ she added quickly.

‘Course I will. Final date for submission is thirty-first of December.’ There was a pause. ‘And I’m glad you’re having a break, Sabrina,’ she added. Emma had known Sabrina for several years, knew about the problems with her sister and about Stephen’s dreadful accident.