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‘Ah, come in, Prendergast,’ Mr Drummond said in an over-hearty voice. He appeared to hesitate for a moment, then his kindly face took on a determined look. He stepped round his desk to confront the visitor. ‘I know we have to work together very closely for the next few months, Prendergast, and I would hope we can achieve a good relationship with each other. However, I can’t have you upsetting my staff, so I would be grateful if you would apologise to Shona, who was only doing her work as she’s been trained to do it. She will continue to announce you each time you arrive, until you take over this office and institute your own staff training methods.’

Katriona felt like applauding. She knew what an effort it must have been for Mr Drummond to insist on an apology for wee Shona, but he had always treated his staff with courtesy and consideration, so it would really go against the grain to see someone walk roughshod over them. The two men eyed each other for several seconds before the visitor wheeled around and went to the door.

‘I’ll be through in my office if you want me, Mr Drummond,’ Katriona spoke softly, giving him an encouraging smile as she went through the communicating door.

He just nodded, still looking troubled by the unpleasantness. She was hardly seated when he summoned her back to his office.

‘Ah, Prendergast, I would like you to meet my personal secretary, Miss Carmichael. She’s been on holiday these past two weeks. You’ll find us a more efficient office now that we’re back to full strength.’

‘That wouldn’t be hard to achieve!’ Mr Prendergast gave an unpleasant laugh.

Katriona saw the look of distaste on Mr Drummond’s face for an instant before he continued with the introduction. ‘And, Katriona my dear, this is Mr Prendergast from Apex Incorporated. Our shareholders wish to expand and have decided to move in with Apex, and Mr Prendergast is the London representative. I’m asking you to give him all the help you can, and he’s to have free access to all our papers and books. I’ll be retiring very soon. I know this will come as a surprise to you ... it did to me. It’s a comfort to me to know you’ll be beside me over these next few months, which could be quite strenuous and taxing, and I know Mr Prendergast will appreciate your helpful co-operation.’

Mr Prendergast barely acknowledged the introduction, and for the rest of the week made Katriona’s life and the life of the rest of the staff quite chaotic. Day by day she became more positive that she could not stay on and work for him. If it were not for the real affection she had for Mr Drummond she would have put her notice in immediately.. She had to admit that the London man knew his work, that he was energetic, efficient, enthusiastic, and that it was awful working for him. She knew the rest of the staff felt the same way and that they were all looking around for new jobs, but out of a sense of loyalty to Mr Drummond would stay with the firm until he retired.

As the week wore on Katriona was annoyed to find that even with the turmoil in the office she was far from forgetting her meeting with Morgan Grant. She knew it was a waste of time thinking about him, but she could not help herself going back to it again and again. She thought he might have tried to see her again when he left the island. By Friday she was dismayed to find that she was really disappointed that he had not tried to contact her. How could she be so stupid? She
must
put him out of her mind, because he had told Donald he was flying home this week, so of course he had gone.

About four o’clock on Friday afternoon Katriona was rushing through a letter to catch the late mail when Morag, one of the other typists, came in.

‘You’re pounding that typewriter so hard you didn’t hear me knock. Shona is out, so I had to do the reception desk, and there’s a gorgeous guy out there asking for you.’

For one second Katriona held her breath, thinking it might be Morgan Grant, then realised how foolish she was. He would be back in New Zealand by now. ‘Did you ask what he wanted to see me about? I’m very busy. Is it important? Try Miss Jamieson, see if she can spare the time to see him.’

Morag pulled a long face. ‘Really, Katriona, I fear for you. After a week like you’ve had with that shark from London I think you should leap at the chance to interview this fantastic fellow. He’s a Canadian, I think, by his accent..

‘Drat it! He
is
a Canadian. And I’ve got to see him. I’ve been handling all that correspondence for Mr Drummond.’

‘You won’t be sorry,’ Morag remarked with a wink. ‘When he said “I want Miss Carmichael” I went all over goosebumps. I’d give my right arm to have him say “I want Miss Watson” in that sexy voice.’

Katriona laughed. ‘I do hope he never says it. I’m sure he’s not worth such a sacrifice. What babies you all are, Morag, seeing romance in every man. He’s not supposed to arrive until next week. Tell Miss Jamieson I may pass him on to her if he looks like lingering. I simply must get these letters away.’

‘Why not pass him on to me?’ Morag pouted. ‘Miss Jamieson wouldn’t know what to do with that much man even if she took lessons.’

‘Out!’ cried Katriona with a wave of her hand. With fingers flying she managed to complete the letter before she heard Morag knock on the door. She ripped the letter from the typewriter as she called ‘Come in’ without looking up. ‘Morag, could you take this through for Mr Drummond before you go. If he wants any alterations done bring it back, otherwise post it when he’s signed it.’

Morag took the letter as Katriona swung around to face her visitor. ‘Good afternoon, Mr ...'

‘Grant is the name, Morgan Grant. I would like to thank you for sparing me a few minutes of your valuable time, Miss Carmichael. I understand you’re very busy, so I won’t keep you.’

Katriona froze, unable to speak.

Morgan Grant appeared to be relaxed and completely at ease. ‘I would like to apologise for my behaviour at our first meeting. I had no right to come storming into your life the way I did. I’m leaving on the plane tonight and came to ask you if you could meet me for dinner after you finish work. We could then discuss the situation like two reasonable adults. Well, what do you say?’

Katriona with a tremendous effort managed to collect her thoughts. The expression ‘storming into your life’ felt very familiar and she was trying to remember where she had heard it recently. Suddenly it came back, and colour flooded her face as she remembered Jeannie saying about a man coming storming into her life. ‘Thank you for your apology, Mr Grant, but I don’t see what useful purpose can be served …' She got to her feet.

The tall dark tanned man smiled at her. ‘Really, Miss Carmichael, if you’re at all honest, you must admit to a tiny bit of curiosity.’

‘Curiosity killed the cat,’ Katriona replied smartly. No wonder Jeannie and Elspeth found him charming! And Morag was quite correct, Miss Jamieson would need lessons to cope with Morgan Grant. But Katriona wasn’t fooled by his change of front. He might be able to steal a woman’s heart away with his smile, but underneath that surface charm he was a nasty arrogant bully ...

‘I’m sure nothing so drastic will happen to you.’ He laughed down at her, his grey eyes warm and friendly. ‘What time do you finish here?’

‘About six, but...’

‘Splendid. I’ll be waiting for you.’

Before Katriona could protest he strode from the room. She sat down, her heart beating wildly. She felt as if a tornado had swept through the office. She thought of all the beautifully sarcastic answers she could have come up with, had he given her time. It was maddening to think that she had let him take complete control of the conversation. But she
did
want to know why he came to sec her, and where the letter came into it, and who wrote it. Oh, he was so wrong, she was not only a tiny bit curious ... she was eaten up with curiosity.

‘Mr Drummond said for you to change this figure, Katriona, then post it off. He said sorry that he gave you the wrong amount.’ Morag dropped the letter back on the desk. ‘Hey! He’s gone. Wasn’t he fantastic?’

‘I presume you mean Mr Grant? Yes, he’s gone.’

‘You’re not at all excited about having a man like that calling on you? You must be made of ice. Talk about
impact
! Honestly, if I’d been you I wouldn’t have let him out of the office until I’d kidded him into making a date ... even if it meant blackmailing him. You’ll never get another chance like that.’

‘I think Miss Jamieson will make an impact on you too, Morag, if you don’t get back to your work.’ Katriona started to sort through some papers on her desk. She really must concentrate on finishing these quotations today. That Morgan Grant was having the most peculiar effect on her. She had almost boasted to Morag that she did have a date with him tonight, if only to prove that she was human after all.

At ten to six she covered her typewriter and went through to the cloakroom to freshen up. After she had made some hasty repairs to her make-up and added a touch of perfume, she gazed at her reflection in the mirror with utter dissatisfaction. She wished she had time to go home and change. Her suit was neat and functional ... an office suit, nothing more, nothing less ... If only she had time to get her hair trimmed ...

Shocked, she realised that she was wanting to make a good impression on Morgan Grant. How
ridiculous
! After tonight she would never see him again. What did it matter how she looked?

She marched out through the office building switching the lights off as she went, checking to see if all the windows were shut. She carefully locked the outside door behind her and dropped the keys in her bag before turning to face Morgan Grant.

‘Good evening, Katriona.’ He seemed amused about something. ‘I have a taxi waiting. I’ve ordered dinner early at my hotel. I think you’ll enjoy the meal, they have an excellent chef.’

‘Good evening,’ Katriona replied, annoyed to hear her voice wobble nervously. She wasn’t frightened of him, it was just that she had trouble breathing when she got too close to him. And it was a bit difficult to know how to behave when they had been shouting insults at each other the last time they were together on the Island.

She sat silent during their taxi ride and then followed him meekly into the very elegant hotel. Seated primly at the table she studied the menu as if it was a matter of life and death what she chose to eat. Then she become aware that the large menu was shaking badly as her hands trembled and she knew it was a dead giveaway. She put it down stiffly and told him she was happy to have whatever he ordered.

Throughout the well-chosen, beautifully cooked and presented meal, she hardly spoke one word. She couldn’t. It was all she could do to give an appearance of normality by concentrating fully on the food and wine. Once, only once she had looked directly at Morgan Grant in answer to a question and found him watching her with such intensity that it left her breathless. She had not repeated that error. She knew he was completely relaxed and enjoying himself, and that burned her up.

No man should be as handsome as he was. She could hear the laughter in his voice as he spoke of his trip to the Island. He did not seem to notice that she only answered in monosyllables, or if he did notice he did not care. He talked of everything under the sun except the things she wanted to know. She wanted to hear about New Zealand ... about the man Ross Carmichael. She tried to tell herself that she was unused to dining out in fashionable hotels, but knew it wasn’t true. She had always been in and out of these places with her mother. She told herself she wasn’t used to dining out with men. That was true enough. But she had dined out with young men often enough to know that she was usually bored to the back teeth by their company.

Tonight she was far from bored. She risked another glance across the table and wished she had not. Morgan Grant had impact, and he knew it.

He told the waiter that they would have their coffee in the lounge, and guided Katriona across the dining room and over to two comfortable chairs and an occasional table in a secluded corner.

When he offered her a cigarette she refused, and he put the packet back in his pocket and settled back comfortably in his chair.

‘I don’t mind if you want to smoke,’ Katriona said politely.

‘Thank you, but I won’t. It’s a bad habit. I’m trying to give it up.’

‘Are you succeeding?’ she asked.

‘Yes. I don’t often fail when I put my mind to something.’ His smile was wicked.

Katriona was furious at herself for giving him that opening. He was so smug and sure of himself, it just made her feel more inadequate than ever.

‘Do you know anyone by the name of Ena McIlroy?’

‘Ena McIlroy! ’ Katriona jerked forward in her chair in surprise at the question. ‘Ena McIlroy was a distant relation of my mother’s. She died almost two years ago.’

‘Would you say she was an honest responsible person?’ Morgan asked.

'None more honest than Ena,’ Katriona said forthrightly. She was aware now that there was no amusement in his intelligent grey eyes. It was replaced by an alert, wary expression.

‘Strange you should say that ... everyone else is of the same opinion.’

'It would be strange if they were not,’ Katriona stated fiercely. ‘She was a fine person. Dearly loved and highly respected.’

‘The letter my boss received was written by her. She claims that you’re Ross Carmichael’s daughter.’

Katriona
gasped. It was so completely unexpected. Her blue eyes opened wide with shock. ‘Ena wrote to this Carmichael man claiming I was his daughter!’

‘Correct.’

‘But ... but why should she do that? She never mentioned anything like that to me.’ Katriona still sounded incredulous. She sat silent for a moment or two. ‘So he heard nearly two years ago that I might be his daughter. He must have been crazy with delight the way he rushed to verify the news.’

‘You do him an injustice,’ Morgan straightened up in his chair. ‘He received the letter last month. Ena McIlroy had left it with her lawyer to post when you reached the age of twenty-one. She’d apparently promised your mother she wouldn’t tell you the truth about your father. When she knew she was dying she tried to persuade your mother to tell you and your mother told her she would ... when you were twenty-one. Ena McIlroy must have known your mother very well, because she didn’t trust her to keep her word. The lawyer said the old lady felt very strongly that the secret must not die with her, so she told him to post the letter to Ross Carmichael a week after your birthday. That’s why the lawyer held it so long.’