November Harlequin Presents 2(264)

Polly slid herself gracefully off the sofa to greet the man, who took her small hand in his and looked down at her. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you this late,’ he said apologetically, and Cryssie detected the transparent admiration in his eyes.

Polly was working her old magic, she thought. And Polly was doing her own assessing, clearly bowled over by the man’s penetrating black eyes, the uncompromising mouth and brilliant white teeth. He was wearing well-cut trousers, as usual, with an open-neck shirt and fashionable suede jacket.

He turned to Cryssie, who went crimson as their eyes met. She was only too aware that her own appearance was hardly eye-catching—the loose-bottomed tracksuit having seen better days and nothing on her feet, her tousled unbrushed hair hanging untidily around her slight shoulders. Then she forced herself to control her thoughts. This wasn’t a competition between her and Polly for the benefit of Jed Hunter! If it was, her sister would win outright!

His voice broke the short silence. ‘I’m sorry to barge in like this, but there is something rather important I need to discuss with you, Cryssie.’

Polly got up from the sofa. ‘I was just on my way up to bed,’ she said, smiling up at him, her cherubic mouth parted in the sweetest of smiles.

‘Ah…’ Jed said. ‘I shan’t stay long.’

Polly drifted out of the room, throwing a curious glance at Cryssie as she went, wondering why the girl hadn’t bothered to describe her dashing new employer. She’d given an impression that he was old and bossy!

When they were alone, the two faced each other, and the reason for this unexpected visit suddenly dawned on Cryssie. Of course! He’d had time to think about his irrational behaviour in the office—and obviously bitterly regretted it! He might even have thought she’d make an official complaint, and he was here to apologise! This possibility had the effect of making her feel up-beat, and she drew herself up to her full height to meet his gaze. She was aware of the six o’clock shadow already darkening the strong features, emphasising the line of his jaw. She could also smell alcohol on his breath. It seemed odd, him being here in their pathetic little home, she thought, but he was as cool as ever, barely glancing at his surroundings.

‘I was in the neighbourhood, having a drink with friends,’ he said casually, ‘and thought I may as well give you a call.’

‘Oh—fine…’ Cryssie said, waiting for the expected explanation for his earlier outburst.

‘I’ve got business in London on Sunday—and I’d like you to come with me. You might as well start learning the ropes as early as possible.’ His voice was flat and uncompromising.

‘Sunday?’ Cryssie echoed. ‘Do people work on Sundays?’

He raised one eyebrow. ‘Some do,’ he said. ‘When necessary. And Sunday is the only day one of my important clients has free. So I’m more than happy to comply.’

Naturally, Cryssie thought. Nothing stands in the way of big business…not in Jeremy Hunter’s book. But she knew she’d have to agree. She wasn’t in a position to obstruct any of his plans. Not at this early stage.

‘Well,’ she said rather reluctantly, ‘I expect my sister and Milo can amuse themselves for once. Do we have to be gone all day?’

‘Afraid so,’ he said briefly. ‘So don’t make other plans. We don’t want to be tied.’

For a second Cryssie felt like refusing to go along with his plans. It seemed a bit soon for him to be running her life—especially as she’d only just agreed to be his PA. But she wasn’t in the mood for any more battles Not today.

She shrugged. ‘What time must we leave?’

‘I’ll pick you up at ten o’clock,’ he said. ‘The meeting’s at two, which will give us time for a bite to eat first.’

Cryssie bit her lip. The way she was feeling, the idea of a ‘bite to eat’ on a Sunday—the day she always reserved for cooking a proper roast lunch for the family—didn’t sound very attractive. But there was no getting away from the fact that she’d promised—had been more or less forced to promise—to be Jed Hunter’s personal and private secretary, so she might as well accept the fact and get on with it.

He made no effort to go, and after a moment Cryssie said awkwardly, ‘Would you…would you like a coffee? Or do you have to be somewhere else?’ The last part of her remark was made more in hope than expectation!

‘No. I’m not going anywhere. And coffee would be good. Thanks.’

Together they went into the kitchen, and Cryssie put the kettle on and reached for two mugs. She was glad that she always made a point of clearing up after their evening meal, so at least it was tidy enough for Jed to sit opposite her at the table as she spooned some instant coffee into the mugs.