Buttoned-Up Secretary, British Boss (15 page)

Alexander put the heavy parcel carefully down against the wall, stood up and went over, holding out his hand.

‘Hello, Melly,’ he said easily. ‘I’ve heard a great deal about you.’

Melly smiled up at the handsome face, clearly impressed at meeting the famous Alexander McDonald.

‘I am so glad that your father is making such a good recovery,’ she said, thinking that, if she had to listen to one more word about her sister’s employer’s troubles, she’d go mad.

‘Thank you. Yes, it’s an enormous relief all round,’ Alexander replied.

Melly glanced down at Sam. ‘And this is my partner, Sam Conway,’ she said.

The two men shook hands and Sabrina said, ‘You’ll have some coffee, won’t you, Alexander?’

‘Thanks—yes,’ he said.

Sabrina passed Alexander his coffee. Glancing at Melly, she wondered if her sister was comparing him to the other famous brother she’d met once or twice. Well, there was no comparison, Sabrina thought. Not in looks, style, manner—anything at all.

Alexander stood up. ‘Now,’ he said. ‘I have something to fix upstairs.’

Sabrina stared at him. ‘What do you mean?’ she said.

‘I have a small task to undertake, that’s all.’ He smiled down at her slowly. ‘You can come and help me.’

Together, the pair went out into the hall and Sabrina helped to tear the brown paper from the parcel. When she saw it, she gasped in admiration.

‘Alexander! Is this…is this for us? You shouldn’t have! It’s gorgeous…It’s absolutely fantastic!’

‘I knew you’d like it,’ he said. ‘I asked Colette to pack it with tender, loving care.’ He lifted the ornate, heavy mirror and began going up the stairs, Sabrina following. ‘As soon as I saw it, I could imagine it hanging where the other one had been,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘My problem was in keeping it a secret from you—but you were far too busy with your own purchases, fortunately.’

It was mid-December before Alexander asked Sabrina to return to work. Now, as she made her way along the familiar street to number thirteen, she felt glad at last to be getting back into a routine. She certainly hadn’t wasted the time at home, but being paid to be away from her desk had begun to make her feel useless.

The time alone had got Sabrina to thinking. Seeing how happy Melly and Sam were, and the little ways the two had demonstrated their deep feelings for each other while Sam had been staying with them, Sabrina felt a familiar, small stab of envy. They were so obviously in love, she thought. They could have been made for each other.

While Sabrina was thrilled and happy for them, deep down she recognized another less comfortable feeling: that the umbilical cord between Melly and her had been severed once and for all.

But all this introspection was nothing compared to
how she was feeling about her employer. Her employer. Her boss. Someone who
did
need her. Oh yes, he needed her all right…for now. He’d told her so, several times. She had fulfilled all her secretarial duties to the very best of her ability—staying late or coming in early whenever he’d asked, making him countless coffees and lunches, and one or two suppers too. And she’d gone with him to France, because that was what he’d wanted at the time. She’d allowed him to make love to her because that was also what he’d needed. Then he’d needed her to be a consoling presence in that hospital ward. So what? He was paying her handsomely for all her efforts, wasn’t he?

Sabrina slowed her steps for a moment. Be honest, she told herself. He might need her, but she needed him too—because the hard fact was she knew she loved him deeply. She’d fought against it, not wanting to risk a passion that might end in yet more pain. But it was a lost cause. Useless. Because he didn’t love her—not in the way that her heart yearned for. And she doubted that Alexander McDonald could ever profess his love for her, or any woman. It was just not in his nature.

Sabrina let herself into the house with her key, then made her way upstairs. It seemed a long time since she’d been here, she thought as she went into the study. So much had happened…

There didn’t appear to be anyone else around. Maria had obviously already gone, and there was no sign of Alexander. As she went over to her desk, Sabrina suddenly spotted the large, leather-bound book lying there; immediately knowing what it was, she picked it up eagerly: it was their novel. Its weight in her hands made her realize just how much work had gone into it—not that she needed telling.

Carefully, almost reverentially, she opened the first page of
Symptoms of Betrayal, by Alexander McDonald.
Sabrina’s hands almost shook as she looked down at it, a feeling of personal pride entering her consciousness. She had been there while this famous writer had fashioned a lot of this; had watched him covertly as he’d wrestled with the difficult parts; had shared his relief when that final chapter had come together…

As she continued staring at it, Sabrina read the first couple of pages which contained the author’s imposing list of previous publications. There were the usual acknowledgements, together with the usual disclaimer about all characters being fictitious, and then…Hardly believing her eyes, she had to sit down for a moment.

On the page immediately preceding chapter one was the dedication—just two words, dead centre, saying simply:

For Sabrina

That was all. Sabrina’s first sensation of shock was followed by one of incredulity and choking emotion. There had never been any discussion about a dedication, and seeing her own name there had almost taken her breath away.

She sat back for a moment, her eyes still fixed to the page. Well, of course; that had to be his way of expressing his gratitude, she thought. A little pat on the back for her loyalty—perhaps by now he was running out of friends to include.

Whatever his reason, Sabrina was overcome, and she had to fight back her tears. It was a privilege, and she did feel honoured.

As she reached for a tissue from her bag, a piece of
paper fell out and fluttered to the floor. It was the application form for the new position which Emma had rung her about. Sabrina had kept putting off filling it in, but maybe now was the time. Maybe her duties here had run their natural course and now, with Alexander’s novel safely under wraps, she should call it a day. Because she loved being here too much, and was beginning to forget that she was a highly qualified psychologist with another life out there, another world that did not include Alexander McDonald.

In his sitting room two doors along from the study, Alexander sat brooding silently, staring into space. He had heard Sabrina come in but had wanted her to see the book—their book—before they came face to face this morning. He had delayed her return to work until now because he’d needed some time away from her to see whether he could face the future without her. To convince himself, one way or the other, whether she really had become as indispensable to him as he thought. But he knew the answer to that. He’d known it for a long time.

Suddenly, he stood up, strode purposefully along the landing and thrust open the door to the study. This had to be the moment of truth, he told himself. He couldn’t bear to wait another day, another hour…

Sabrina looked up and smiled quickly, indicating the novel in front of her.

‘Oh, Alexander,’ she said. ‘Doesn’t this look good? Doesn’t it look lovely? It’s great to see the finished product.’ She paused. ‘You must be very proud of it.’

He shrugged. ‘Well, aren’t you?’ he asked bluntly. ‘I seem to remember there were two of us on the project.’

So, she’d been right, Sabrina thought. He clearly thought he’d pay her the compliment of adding her name.

‘And thank you—so much—for the dedication.’ She swallowed. ‘I could hardly believe it.’

He came over and glanced down at the application form which Sabrina had begun filling out.

‘What’s that? What are you doing?’ he asked frankly.

Well, she supposed he had every right to ask; he was paying her for her time here.

‘Oh, this is the application for the post my ex-colleague rang me about when we were in France,’ she said casually. ‘And don’t worry; even if I’m successful—which is by no means certain—the post isn’t open until the end of March, so we’ll have plenty of time before that to concentrate on your next novel.’

‘Don’t!’ he said harshly. ‘Don’t do this. I don’t want you to go.’

Sabrina’s shoulders sagged slightly. She knew that he needed her skills, and it was undeniably true that she seemed to fit in with all his requirements, tick all the necessary boxes. Of course he didn’t want her to go. What else had she expected?

But Sabrina knew that she must think more of herself and less of him on this occasion. And as she looked up at the impossibly handsome face, at those eyes which had always seemed able to read her innermost thoughts, she knew she must put a stop to it now. She could no longer bear to be close to him—and not be loved by him.

‘I’m sorry, Alexander,’ she began. ‘But I feel it’s right that we should part company soon.’

‘Why?’ he demanded roughly. ‘Why is it right? I
thought we were good together, you and I, Sabrina. We could go on being good together, couldn’t we?’

‘What exactly do you mean by that?’ she asked.

‘Well, what I mean is, I want us to be together—properly. To commit to each other.’ He shook his head irritably. ‘I mean, I want you to marry me, of course! What’s the problem?’

For a second, Sabrina felt almost amused at the question; now was the moment. ‘You’re the problem, Alexander,’ she said, surprised at her own coolness of tone.

‘Why? Explain!’ he demanded.

Looking up at him, her bewitching eyes moist and full of emotion, Sabrina said, ‘I agree that we are good together.’ Would either of them ever forget their one passionate night together? ‘But I don’t think you understand me, Alexander. I am more than aware of
your
needs—your wants—but I don’t believe that you’re aware of mine. You simply have no idea,’ she added quietly.

‘But, if you leave me, I’ll never find out what your needs are, what you’re talking about!’ He thrust his hand through his hair. ‘If it’s about wanting to return to your own profession one day, well, of course I fully understand. I’d never stand in your way. You could set up your own consulting room here, if you wanted—there’s plenty of space. And you could still go on working for me. We’d sort it between us somehow. But don’t leave me, Sabrina. You’ll have to give me time…That’s all I’m asking for—time…’

‘Time is not what you need,’ Sabrina said slowly. ‘What you lack, Alexander, is the ability to utter the one thing I—or any woman—would expect to hear you say. Well, three things, actually.’

‘Which is? Which are?’

After a long moment, staring straight in front of her, Sabrina said slowly, ‘I want you to tell me that we should be together, that we should commit to each other, simply because
you love me
—and for no other reason. I want you to force yourself to say it—to say, “I love you”.’ She swallowed, quietly amazed at her own temerity. She was giving her boss instructions! How had she found the courage to do that? But she was forcing him to give her a reply now. It would be his only chance; she knew that. And after a moment she repeated what she’d said. ‘I want you to tell me that you love me, Alexander. Is that such a hard thing for you to do?’

In the complete silence which followed that remark, the two were like solemn players in a momentous production which was about to reach its climax; the intensity in the room was palpable, and painful. Then Alexander walked slowly over to stare out of the window, his hands thrust in his pockets.

‘Perhaps I should explain something,’ he said. ‘About Angelica.’ After a few moments he went on. ‘I met her at one of my book signings. Or, rather, she was in the long queue of people which the organizers were trying to hurry along.’ He paused. ‘On these occasions there are always those who want to engage in conversation and chit-chat, and the whole procedure can drag on a bit. This particular day did seem endless because hundreds had turned up.’

Alexander waited before going on. ‘Anyway, I’d glanced up once or twice and I’d seen this tall, raven-haired, beautiful girl…Well, you couldn’t miss her. She never actually got to where I was signing. But eventually she was the last one, and we exchanged pleasantries as she gave me her book.’ He paused. ‘She asked for the entry to read “for Angelica”—and “never give
up”. Which I thought was a bit strange at the time,’ he added.

Alexander turned to glance back at Sabrina briefly. ‘Then later, as I left the building to go the car park,’ he went on, ‘there she was. She’d somehow managed to park her car right next to mine—she must have been there very early in the day to do that.’ There was another long pause.

‘She asked if she could buy me a drink. Well, it’d been a long day, and suddenly the thought of spending an hour in the company of a very attractive woman seemed…enticing. So I bought us some dinner and it was midnight before we parted company. We exchanged phone numbers…you know how you do…and I thought she’d been good company: intelligent, and a good listener. She hung on my every word, and I suppose I had my head turned a bit.’ Alexander turned to stare out of the window again. ‘Well, this was all a very long time ago,’ he added defensively.

‘For the next two or three months we saw quite a lot of each other—and I even began to wonder whether she’d be the one I’d marry and settle down with…’ A derisive snort left Alexander’s lips.

At this point, Sabrina got up and came across to stand next to him, knowing that he wasn’t enjoying telling her all this, but he went on.

‘One evening, I was invited to go with her to someone’s twenty-first birthday party. It was at a wine bar in town, and very crowded. Plenty of bright young things there, a lot of excitable noise and merry-making and plenty of drink to go with it. I knew it wasn’t my kind of thing, but anyway…’ He shook his head slightly. ‘Unfortunately—for both of us—I enjoy very keen hearing. Later in the evening I overheard Angelica talking to
two friends.’ Alexander grimaced to himself. He could recall the incident without difficulty.

‘The long and short of it was that Angelica’s purpose in making herself known to me was to get to Bruno. To get to my famous brother. She apparently had great ambitions for herself in the theatrical world—something she’d very skilfully kept from me, by the way. My brother’s name had barely been mentioned between us. Up to that point I’d been listening to everything she was saying with only half an ear, but when Bruno’s name cropped up I immediately took more interest and it all became clear. Especially when I heard Angelica’s final remark.’ Alexander’s mouth twisted as he remembered.