Buttoned-Up Secretary, British Boss (8 page)

It took more than half an hour for Sabrina to get to the end, and when she’d finished she stayed quite still, looking down at the script, not wanting to break the spell which Alexander McDonald had put her under. That long, last passage had been so full of heat, of passion, that she felt physically exhausted. And when she finally looked up Alexander had swivelled his chair around and was gazing down at her, a strange expression on his face.

‘Thank you, Sabrina,’ he said quietly, his eyes almost melting as he saw a large tear slip down Sabrina’s cheek. She was such a sensitive woman, he thought, so readily in tune with what she’d been reading.

There was a long pause. ‘I just wish that everyone who read my books—read any writer’s books—would take the time to engage as you’ve just done,’ he said. ‘So many people skim-read, don’t give true value to all the blood, sweat and tears which go into fiction. But you, Sabrina—you just brought all that alive, even to me, who knew what was coming!’ He smiled. ‘In fact, I learned something fresh about my characters and their motives just listening to you.’ He hesitated. ‘Have you—have you ever done stage work…any acting?’ he asked.

Sabrina shook her head, suddenly feeling embarrassed that she’d had difficulty restraining her tears, knowing that he’d seen them. ‘No, that’s not my thing,’ she said, wiping her nose with a tissue. ‘That’s my sister’s domain.’

Alexander cleared his throat. ‘One or two small points did strike me which I’d like us to discuss.’

He identified the parts he was referring to, and for the next hour they picked over his doubts together, tossing ideas back and forth between them. Sabrina could never have dreamed in a million years that she’d ever be asked to do such a thing. Alexander seemed to take on board every suggestion she plucked up the courage to make.

Finally, Sabrina stood up. ‘I’m in need of a strong cup of tea, Alexander.’

‘I think we could both do with a break,’ he said. ‘That was quite a marathon. But useful, very useful.’

After she had gone downstairs, Alexander sat staring into space for a while, still hearing Sabrina’s sweet voice lingering in his ears. He admitted to a feeling of disquiet suddenly, because he realized that his new secretary was making herself so indispensable to him it would be an almost impossible task ever to do without her. But one day he would have to; he knew that. With her qualifications, it was obvious that she would want to return to her own profession at some point, and he would never try to dissuade her. That would be unfair; wrong. It wasn’t just the fact that her work was so neat and meticulous, it was everything else which any employer yearned for in an employee—an attitude, a readiness to comply, to take the rough with the smooth, to be flexible and still keep a smile on her face.

He sighed heavily. The thought that one day she wouldn’t be sitting there in his study filled him with an acute depression. Depression, something that hit him from time to time, had been blissfully absent since he’d taken her on. Then he squared his shoulders. For heaven’s sake, she hadn’t resigned—not yet—and it could be well into next year before the economic situation
improved and she was offered her job back. Until then, she was his. He was paying good money—and he’d pay more if necessary to keep her by his side.

Later, as they sipped their tea in comparative silence, each with their own thoughts, Alexander said, ‘I think it’s time to call it a day, now, Sabrina. We’re both tired.’

He looked down at her, for the first time noticing how some loose fronds of her hair had escaped from the band she was wearing and were falling prettily either side of her face and across her forehead. It made her look childlike and, to him, utterly adorable. He wished he had the courage to gently put those wavy fronds back in place, to trail his fingers over her cheeks for a moment as he did it, a familiar act like a lover or a husband might do.

He dragged his gaze from her. ‘I’m going to take you home now,’ he said.

‘No, honestly, Alexander. There’s no need. It only takes an hour for me to get back,’ Sabrina said, but he interrupted.

‘I do have an ulterior motive,’ he said. ‘If we go now, it’ll give you a chance to freshen up before I take you out to supper.’ He paused, looking down at her. ‘I think you deserve a hearty meal—and the other day when I dropped you home I spotted a very nice-looking Italian place nearby…’

‘Oh yes, that’s Marco’s,’ Sabrina said. ‘It’s good. Melly and I go there sometimes.’
After I’ve been paid
, she thought. ‘And we might discuss the next steps in chapter forty,’ she suggested. ‘Only if you want to,’ she added hastily.

‘Um, yes, we might,’ he agreed. ‘Or, there again, we might not. We might well feel we’ve had quite enough of that for one day. Besides,’ he said as they left the kitchen
together. ‘I have another, slightly different, proposition to put to you. If it fits in with your personal plans,’ he added enigmatically.

S
ABRINA
had to admit that being driven home in Alexander’s swish car could hardly be compared with her usual trek, involving walking and being squashed in the tube after a long day. As usual, the traffic was heavy, and it had gone six o’clock by the time they pulled up at the house. Sabrina’s car was outside in its allotted parking space, but for once there was a spare slot opposite for Alexander to leave the Aston Martin.

He glanced across. ‘Do we need to book a table at the restaurant?’ he asked, and Sabrina shook her head.

‘I don’t think so, as it’s Thursday. Weekends are always the busiest.’

Before he could get out, Sabrina opened her door and was already making her way up the short front path before he joined her. As they went inside, she looked up at him quickly.

‘Do you want the TV on while I have a shower?’ she asked, thinking that after the day she’d just had the thought of soaping herself under some nice, warm water was just what she needed.

‘You carry on—don’t worry about me,’ he said casually, following her into the sitting room. ‘Anyway, there’s no rush, is there?’

Sabrina paused by the door for a second. ‘Would
you like something to drink?’ she asked, then thought, what could she offer him? She certainly didn’t have a well-stocked cellar to choose from. But then Alexander came to her rescue.

‘No, I’m all right, thanks. But why don’t I make us a cup of tea?’ he suggested. ‘While you’re freshening up.’

‘OK, let me introduce you to the kitchen,’ she said.

Although Alexander had driven her home once or twice, he had never come into the house before. As he followed Sabrina along the hallway it was no surprise to him to see how well-kept everything was. He was beginning to know her by now; the recent transformation she had made to his study told its own story.

‘This is due for a refit,’ Sabrina said, glancing around the kitchen, slightly embarrassed. ‘I’ve been looking at home-improvement brochures to get some ideas.’

‘It looks fine to me,’ Alexander said. ‘And perfectly adequate for two people.’ He went over to the glass-panelled back door and stared out at the garden. ‘Who keeps this tidy?’ he asked, observing the rectangular piece of neat lawn accompanied by small groups of flowering bushes.

‘Oh, we do. But it doesn’t take long, not with the size it is,’ Sabrina replied, taking down the tea bags and opening the fridge for some milk.

Leaving Alexander to it, she left the room and went upstairs, knowing straight away what she was going to wear. It would be a dress for a change, she thought, a special dress.

The item she took from her wardrobe was the one she knew suited her perfectly—a simple cream number, its flimsy, floaty skirt just reaching the knee, with a somewhat dramatic gold pattern slashed across it at random
intervals. Sabrina smiled as she remembered how Melly had described her in it: that it looked as if she’d been struck by lightning.

Soon, luxuriating under the shower, she leant backwards, letting the hot water drench her from head to toe. She remembered suddenly what Alexander had said earlier—that he had a proposition to put to her. What had he meant by that? Sabrina wondered. He hadn’t taken it any further, and she hadn’t asked him to explain. But she hoped it would be something that her circumstances could cope with; Melly was due home soon. But, still; Sabrina shrugged. She must try and co-operate with Alexander’s requirements, she thought, because she was not going to give up this job with him for a long time yet. There was more money going into her bank account than she’d ever known before. Plus, she was getting used to seeing Alexander every day.

Sabrina bit her lip for a moment. During their telephone conversations, Melly had not once asked how Sabrina was getting on, how the new post was turning out for her. The talk had all been about Melly and how her life was going. But then, her sister had always been a bit like that, Sabrina admitted as she stepped from the shower and reached for a towel.

Downstairs, as Alexander sat idly watching the news with his mug in his hands, he suddenly heard a tremendous crash from above followed by an agonized shriek from Sabrina. Without hesitating for a second, he put down his tea and raced up the stairs, wondering what on earth he was going to find.

Sabrina was standing at the top clutching a huge white bath-towel around her, obviously very upset about something.

‘What’s going on?’ he demanded. ‘Are you OK, Sabrina?’

He swallowed hard. Her hair was streaming wet around her shoulders, making her look like a winsome nymph who had just emerged from a deep lake. He knew very well that she was naked and vulnerable under that towel. For a fraction of a second Alexander struggled with a natural impulse to pick her up in his arms and make love to her there on the floor at the top of the stairs…

‘What’s happened, Sabrina?’ he repeated.

Without a word, she turned. He followed her into the bathroom, where he saw that a large mirror, still steamed up, had fallen from its place on the wall and had crashed to the floor, a huge, ugly crack right across its surface. Glancing at her quickly, he could see that she was visibly upset about it.

He stooped to examine the damage at the back of the mirror. ‘There’s the problem,’ he said. ‘The cord holding it up on the wall has frayed, that’s all.’ He glanced up at her. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to buy another mirror, Sabrina, this one’s had it.’

She shivered, her teeth chattering for a second. ‘That’s going to be seven years’ bad luck, isn’t it?’

‘Rubbish,’ Alexander said emphatically. ‘You don’t believe that stuff, do you?’

‘Not really,’ Sabrina said doubtfully, thinking that she and Melly didn’t need any more wicked fairies planning unpleasant surprises for them. She smiled apologetically. ‘Sorry to give you a shock, Alexander, but it certainly gave me one. I thought the roof was coming down on my head!’

He raised one eyebrow slightly. ‘It was one hell of a
noise,’ he agreed. ‘I wondered what on earth could have happened.’

Suddenly, the position she was in caused Sabrina to flush to the roots of her hair. It seemed weird enough that her boss was here at all in their simple little home, but much worse was the fact that he was standing in the bathroom next to her, knowing that she had absolutely nothing on under the towel.

He bent down again and picked up the cumbersome mirror in his arms. ‘This one’s probably for the tip,’ he said casually, noting the considerable damage to the frame. ‘But fortunately the glass hasn’t shattered, so there are no splinters for us to pick up.’ He glanced back at her as he left the room. ‘I’ll bring up your tea,’ he said briefly. ‘It’s getting cold.’

In her bedroom, Sabrina towelled herself as quickly as she could. It had never struck her that she should check the cords holding up all their pictures and mirrors, and she still felt unnerved by what had happened. She was especially unnerved because during probably the one and only time her boss would ever visit the house he’d had to witness the whole sorry thing.

Well, what was done was done, she thought. Now, slipping into her underwear, she switched the dryer to fast, brushing her hair out at the same time. It would just have to stay damp, she thought. She’d leave it loose to dry by itself, because she couldn’t keep Alexander waiting any longer. Then she smoothed a trace of foundation onto her face and neck, adding a slick of eye shadow and a touch of blusher to her cheeks, before thrusting on her gold heels and going downstairs.

Alexander was lounging on the sofa, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Hearing her come in, he turned his head to gaze at her and for a second neither of
them spoke. Then, ‘You look beautiful,’ he said briefly. He knew that he’d paid that same compliment to plenty of women in the distant past, but there’d never been a time when he’d meant it more.

Sabrina did look
divine
, he thought. That dress could have been made especially for her, and her hair—clearly still damp and floating loosely around her shoulders—made her look more seductive than she herself could possibly know. That was one of the things he liked about the woman—she seemed totally unaware of the effect she had on the people around her. Well, had on him, anyway, he admitted. And how had he allowed that to happen? he asked himself. He’d always held that mixing business and pleasure was a no-go area, well known to cause more trouble than it was worth.

They left the house and Alexander glanced down at Sabrina as they wandered along side by side, not touching.

‘Won’t you need a wrap of some sort?’ he enquired casually, covertly admiring the creamy smoothness of her bare arms and neck, the glimpse of her delicate cleavage. ‘I know we’re having a phenomenally warm October, but it’s bound to get cold later on.’

‘No, I’ll be OK—it only takes a couple of minutes to get to Marco’s. And it’s always pleasantly warm in there,’ she replied, a little ripple of pleasure running through her at what he’d just said. It was so good to have someone—a drop-dead-gorgeous man like Alexander McDonald—be considerate of her in that way. It felt comforting, reassuring, and she suddenly felt more elated than she had for a long time. She realized just how much she’d missed going out on a date—if you could call tonight a date, she thought. Tonight was merely her boss’s way of saying thank you for this afternoon’s
reading. But wasn’t that what he was paying her for anyway? Perhaps this was by way of a bonus.

She knew that she was enjoying her present employment more than she could have dared to hope—and she had the distinct impression that Alexander wasn’t finding her constant presence too intolerable. It might have been so different, she acknowledged, if he had turned out to be a creep like his brother. Well, that would have brought matters to a very rapid close. But thankfully, in that way, and probably many others, the two brothers could not be less alike.

As they entered the restaurant, the young, dark-eyed manager came forward.

‘Hello, Signorina Sabrina!’ he exclaimed effusively. ‘We have missed you!’ He was thinking that one of their favourite clients never came in with a man these days.

‘Hi, Antonio,’ Sabrina said. ‘Um, this is Alexander—a friend,’ she added, glancing at the two men in turn.

‘Signor,’
Antonio murmured, bowing his head deferentially.

‘Buona sera,’
Alexander said casually. Of course Alexander probably spoke the language fluently, Sabrina thought, and many others.

Antonio led the way to a candlelit table by the window. Alexander said, looking around, ‘So, this is your local, is it, Sabrina?’

Sabrina smiled quickly. ‘We don’t come here all that regularly,’ she replied. ‘Probably once every couple of months or so. They’re always so welcoming, though.’

It was on the tip of Alexander’s tongue to say that Antonio could hardly be blamed for his flattery, with Sabrina looking as she did tonight. But, wisely, he kept quiet.

‘I’m going to choose something rather good for us
this evening,’ Alexander remarked, running his finger down the wine list. ‘To celebrate the fact that we’ve kick-started chapter forty. I feel optimistic that with a bit of luck I can get it finished by the end of the month. Which is what the publisher expects,’ he added.

Sabrina looked down for a second.
Did he say
we’ve
kick-started chapter forty?
she thought. Was that a slip of the tongue, was he being overly kind…or was she really that important to him? Either way, it gave her a thrill to hear him say it.

It didn’t take them long to make their choice from the large menu, though Sabrina let Alexander lead the way. Well, he was paying, and she didn’t want to select anything too pricey.

He decided they’d have Antipasto Misti to start, followed by Saltimbocca alla Romana—escalope of veal braised in Marsala wine, with ham and eggs.

‘Does all that sound OK with you?’ he asked, glancing across at her.

‘Perfect,’ she said, realizing that in all the time coming to Marco’s she usually stuck to pizza or lasagne, which were the less expensive things on offer.

As they started on the second course, she glanced up at Alexander, suddenly feeling shy. He was incredibly handsome, she thought—not for the first time. He had such strong features, almost perfectly outlined, the firm chin already forming a fine stubble of dark, seductive hair…But the mesmerizing feature had to be his eyes. Not just their intense, dramatic colour but the way he quite often used them to look at her. His thoughts behind that magnetic expression were unknowable, but it added to the delicious sense of mystery about Alexander McDonald which she’d been painfully aware of from the beginning.

Sabrina sighed inwardly as she picked up her fork again. No wonder he’d apparently spent half his life holding the female sex at bay, she thought. He could afford to pick and choose. For a second she felt almost sorry for Alexander McDonald. Too much choice became no choice at all, in the end. And what about that lovely girl in the snapshot who he’d been holding so closely, so intimately? What had happened to her? She obviously hadn’t matched up to his expectations. Sabrina wondered whether there was a woman alive in the whole world who he could ever commit himself to. Somehow, she doubted it—anyway, hadn’t he assured her after his mother’s party that he intended to remain single for ever?

Sabrina put another morsel of veal into her mouth as her thoughts ran on. She didn’t think that Alexander McDonald ever changed his mind about anything. Not once he’d declared it.

Briefly remembering that awful evening at his family home, Sabrina couldn’t help comparing it with how she was feeling at the moment. Their supper afterwards at The Woodcutter had been good, and Alexander had been charming and conciliatory about what had happened. But this was different. She felt unexpectedly confident and happy to be here with her boss; she was enjoying every second of this occasion. And if he wasn’t sharing her feelings then he was putting on a pretty good show, she thought. He seemed more relaxed than she’d seen him before. After all, this was his idea; there’d been no need for him to take her out and buy her dinner.

Interrupting her thoughts, Alexander said as he picked up his wine glass, ‘I’m curious about something, Sabrina.’