November Harlequin Presents 2(245)

He shrugged. ‘I thought I’d made it clear that it will be business as usual for now,’ he said smoothly.

He continued staring down at her, and for once Cryssie was tongue-tied! She kept remembering how she’d gone on—not only about Latimer’s, but about Hydebound, and what a good company she worked for…all the time not realising that the man intended buying them out! His little secret, she thought—and it might even have been her words which had convinced him that he was purchasing a good investment!

‘Well,’ Cryssie said eventually, ‘I’m sure you will be able to rely on the staff to continue working as we always have done. Loyally, and to the best of our ability.’

‘Oh, I’m counting on it,’ he said, and the perceptible jutting of his jaw as he uttered the words sent a small shiver down Cryssie’s spine.

He was not likely to be swayed by any emotional feelings where the firm was concerned, she thought. It would be business—and strictly hard-headed business at that. The assistant at Latimer’s had made it only too clear that he was someone who expected to get his own way and run things exactly as he wanted. And it had to be admitted that the Lewis brothers had not exactly moved with the times during the forty-odd years they had owned the company. In fact, its time-warp atmosphere was part of its charm—everyone said so.

She was about to get into her car when he moved forward, stopping her for a moment.

‘I do have a favour to ask,’ he said slowly. ‘The Lewises have given me a pretty comprehensive idea of what I’m buying, but I’d appreciate a meeting with you—one-to-one—to get to the grass roots and hear things from another angle.’

Cryssie looked up into his face for a moment, trying to read what was behind the expression in those deep coal-black eyes. She hoped he wasn’t anticipating that she’d give away any family secrets, or express a personal opinion about her colleagues. If he thought that he might learn something from her that the Lewises had deliberately not told him, he’d better think again!

‘Of course I can attend a meeting,’ she said rather primly, in answer to his request. ‘We all have tomorrow off—New Year’s Day—but I’ll be at my desk the day after. It is work as usual then, isn’t it?’ she asked demurely.

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘But I was thinking more on the lines of dinner somewhere. I always think that a relaxed meal and a glass or two of good wine brings out the best in most situations.’

He paused, and Cryssie felt her whole body tremble. She hadn’t expected a dinner invitation—or any invitation—from her new boss, especially remembering their earlier acquaintance! How acutely embarrassing—and what on earth would her colleagues think when they found out? Especially Rose, who always seemed a bit jealous of Cryssie.

‘But how thoughtless of me,’ he continued. ‘New Year’s Eve is a time for couples, isn’t it? I’m sure you have somewhere special lined up for tonight.’

She stared up at him blankly. ‘What…you mean…tonight?’ she exclaimed in amazement. Surely he was inundated with invitations to glitzy parties? This particular night of the year was hardly the time to take an unimportant employee out—for a meeting!

‘Certainly tonight,’ he said implacably. ‘Unless, of course, you have better things to do. And there is Milo to consider…Would someone do the babysitting honours?’

Fancy him remembering Milo’s name—that was at least one point in his favour! She looked up into that rugged, handsome face and smiled suddenly. It might be quite nice to go somewhere for dinner instead of always preparing it, she thought. ‘Babysitting’s never any problem, Mr Hunter,’ she said. Then, deciding that there was no point in hedging, because he was sure to find out sooner or later, added, ‘As a matter of fact I’m not married. I never have been.’

She stood there, challenging him to say something which would indicate what he thought about selfish unmarried mothers—women who thought they could have it all—because that was obviously what he would think.

But his expression gave nothing away, and he stood back to allow her to get into the car. ‘Where do you live?’ he asked abruptly. ‘Will eight o’clock be too soon? I have a table booked at the Laurels for nine.’

Cryssie tried to stop her mouth opening and closing like a fish! The Laurels was the most expensive restaurant in the area—she’d never expected to step inside the place, let alone be treated to dinner! And in the same second she thought. So he’s already booked a table! The man who always got everything he wanted! For a moment she thought she’d scupper his plans and refuse, for the sheer hell of it! Instead, she said, ‘We live at number nine Birch End Lane—do you know it? Right by the public tennis courts.’ Why should he know their humble address? she thought. His own would be somewhere magnificent, far away from here.