His Secretary Mistress(25)

‘You appear to have left something of yours in with my shopping,’ she began, brandishing the underwear in front of her as she marched into Alex’s office, and came to an abrupt halt when she found him locked in a passionate embrace with a statuesque blonde. ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

It was ridiculous to feel so utterly betrayed, she reasoned, but nothing, not even Lee’s brazen infidelity, had prepared her for the pain of seeing Alex kiss another woman. He meant nothing to her, she told herself frantically, but the knife in her chest cut deep, and something of her despair must have shown in her eyes, causing Alex’s gaze to narrow as he pulled out of his companion’s arms.

‘Can’t you see we’re busy?’ the woman snapped, looking down at Jenna with haughty dismissal.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise…’ Jenna backed towards the door, shoving the silk underwear behind her, but Alex’s cool tones stopped her.

‘Now that you’re here, I’d like to introduce you to Selina Carter-Lloyd. Selina, this is my temporary secretarial assistant, Jenna Deane.’

Selina gave a brief, uninterested nod and turned her back on Jenna, wrapping her arms around Alex’s neck like a limpet of Amazonian proportions.

She had to be six feet tall, Jenna decided, noting the way Selina’s face was almost on a level with Alex’s. She was well built and broad-shouldered, strikingly attractive rather than beautiful, with thick honey-blonde hair and the careless elegance of someone who had grown up with money.

‘Why can’t you come to Hampshire for the weekend?’ she pouted. ‘You know you have an open invitation to stay at Amberley. Mummy was saying only yesterday that you haven’t visited for ages.’

‘Your parents are very kind, and I’ll get down as soon as I can. But I’m going to be tied up with work all weekend, before I fly to Paris on Monday.’

‘You know what they say about all work and no play,’ Selina murmured. ‘You need a wife, Alex, someone who can persuade you to relax more.’

There was no doubting the form of persuasion Selina had in mind, Jenna thought disparagingly. The woman had the subtlety of a carthorse, but Alex didn’t seem to mind. Perhaps marriage was on his agenda after all, and Selina, the daughter of a judge, would make him an eminently suitable wife.

The thought left a hollow feeling around her heart, and she stared at him bleakly when he came back into the office, having escorted Selina to the door with the promise that he would call her.

‘In future, knock before you barge into my office,’ he bit out furiously, and her temper flared.

‘I said I was sorry, but I didn’t realise you were…entertaining.’

‘I could have been cavorting on my desk stark naked if I’d so desired.’

Jenna’s breath snagged in her throat as she pictured his gloriously bare body, the image so starkly erotic that she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze.

‘And I wasn’t “entertaining”, as you so delicately put it, I merely gave Selina a friendly kiss.’

‘I thought you were eating her,’ Jenna returned haughtily, and despite himself Alex’s lips twitched.

No one ever answered him back. Even Margaret, who had worked for him for years, used subtle persuasion to influence his decisions, but Jenna suffered no such inhibitions. She gave as good as she received, and he found himself admiring her for her nerve.

Somehow this tiny, feisty redhead had crept under his skin, and, rather like an irritating rash, he couldn’t seem to get rid of her. She was staring at him now, with those enormous Bambi eyes, and as his gaze focused on the tremulous curve of her mouth, his smile faded. He had dated many beautiful women over the years; he had never professed to be a monk. But the few days he had spent in Cannes had been akin to taking Holy Orders, notable only for his distinct lack of desire for Angelina or any other woman. His loss of libido had been frankly embarrassing, and he had used the excuse that he needed to return to the office as a way of ending an awkward situation, leaving behind a patently bemused Angelina.

Of course it would have made more sense to stop over in Paris on his way back from Cannes, and he refused to admit to himself or anyone else that he had only flown straight to London because he ached to see Jenna again. For some reason this woman had the ability to distract his usually disciplined thought process, even whilst he was in court, and at night she haunted his dreams, featuring in erotic fantasies that were totally inappropriate when dawn heralded the reality that she was married to another man.

Perhaps that was the key to her allure—the reason for his fascination with her, he surmised grimly. He had been blessed, or cursed, with a fiercely competitive streak and a determination to win what he wanted from life. Did he want Jenna because she was beyond his reach? The thought hovered uncomfortably in his subconscious, and he turned away from her to stare blankly at his computer screen. Was he really contemplating breaking up her marriage simply to prove a point?