His Secretary Mistress(19)

It seemed good advice, particularly as she had little else apart from her work suit that was suitable for an evening out, Jenna conceded. She had arranged for Maisie to spend the night with her neighbours, Nora and Charlie, and as she slipped into the cloakroom on Friday evening to change her top she found herself looking forward to the party.

She rarely went out these days—in fact since Maisie had been born her social life had dwindled to virtually nothing, and her bitter experience with Lee had put her off dating for good. After the few times when she had gone to dinner with one of the younger partners at her previous job, the disturbing phone calls had started. Lee had made them; she was certain of it. Despite sleeping with every woman he’d met between the ages of sixteen and sixty, he had a fiercely possessive streak. But she had never discovered how he was able to keep such close tabs on her movements, and it had been easier to give up socialising for good.

Everyone had assembled at the trendy wine bar that adjoined the restaurant, and Jenna blinked in surprise at some of the rather alarming African artwork on display, while heavy rock music pumped through the room.

‘Charles is panicking at the thought of reaching fifty and is trying to recapture his youth,’ Margaret confided with a chuckle. ‘This sort of place is more your cup of tea than mine, but the food’s supposed to be good, and there’s music after dinner.’

Jenna ordered an orange juice, determined to keep a clear head. She felt awkward and out of place amidst the other staff, who were obviously all old friends. It was like being the new girl in the playground, she thought wryly, glancing round for Margaret, who seemed to have disappeared.

‘Good evening, Jenna, is everything all right? You seem to be looking for someone.’ Alex suddenly materialised at her side, and she swallowed nervously and addressed his tie.

‘I was just wondering where Margaret had got to.’

‘She’s over there, talking to Charles’s wife. Can I get you another drink?’

He moved forward to place his order and she found herself trapped between the bar and his chest, her senses immediately soaring into overdrive as she caught the subtle musk of his cologne.

‘White wine, please,’ she requested, hoping that the kick of alcohol would loosen her tongue, which suddenly seemed to be tied in knots.

‘Nice carpet?’ Alex enquired dryly, and she stared at him in confusion.

‘What?’

‘You seem to have a fascination with carpets; you certainly spend enough time studying them. Do you have a problem with looking at me, Jenna?’

‘No! Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.’

Jenna felt her cheeks burn, unable to reveal that the sight of him did strange things to her equilibrium. His suit was designer, the exquisite cut of the jacket emphasising the width of his shoulders, and her fingers ached to stroke the fine white silk of his shirt. Anxious to deny his taunts, she stared at his face and felt a peculiar little dart of pain in her chest as she absorbed the masculine beauty of his bone structure. He was devastating, and, from the flirtatious glances that were bouncing his way, she wasn’t the only woman to find him so.

‘You could hardly be described as ugly, Alex; most of the women in this room are positively drooling at the sight of you.’

‘But not you?’ he queried lightly, and she shrugged.

‘Is drooling a necessary requirement from your staff? If so then I will by all means. But may I point out that I am married?’

‘There’s no need to remind me,’ he said curtly, and to her relief they were called in to dinner.

On her way into the restaurant Jenna slipped into the ladies’ room, needing an excuse to delay her so that she could avoid sitting at the same table as Alex.

The glass of wine seemed to have gone straight to her head. She felt dizzy, and her cheeks were flushed, although whether that was a result of the alcohol or her close encounter with Alex she couldn’t be sure. She stared despairingly at her reflection, noting her over-bright eyes. Her dilated pupils gave some clue to the heady excitement that filled her. She had to get over this ridiculous crush, she told herself sternly. It was so uncool to get in a flap every time she came within a five-mile radius of Alex, and if she wasn’t careful others would notice—particularly him.

She had left her hair loose for the evening, and it swung around her shoulders, making her look softer and sexier. For a moment she was tempted to scrape it back into a no-nonsense bun, but there was no time. The last thing she wanted to do was arrive at the table so late that she drew attention to herself. Hastily she adjusted the black jersey halter-neck top she had changed into before she left work, and groaned as she saw how lovingly it moulded her curves and emphasised the hard peaks of her nipples.