The #1 Bestsellers Collection 2011(133)

“That’d be great, thank you.” Without realizing it, he’d given her the perfect opportunity to avoid the aromas that permeated the interior of the restaurant. Outside, the light breeze would ensure her sensitive stomach didn’t overreact.

Either they were extremely lucky, or Connor Knight had a way with the maître d’ because miraculously, and despite being very busy, a table for two was available.

“White wine or red?” Connor asked as he perused the wine list.

Her taste buds soured at the thought of drinking wine. “I’ll stick with water tonight.”

“Good idea. Me too. We’ll have two of these.” He pointed to the New Zealand branded bottled spring water on the list and handed it back to the waiter.

“So, do you come here often?” Holly broke the silence that had settled between them.

Connor laughed, the spontaneous sound lighting a warm ember deep inside her chest. “I think that’s supposed to be my line.”

Holly smiled weakly in response. Okay, as conversation starters went it had been a bit weak, but there was no rule book to cover polite conversation with your boss over a late dinner—especially when one heated look from him was enough to set up a chain reaction inside her that had nothing to do with pain. Except, perhaps, the pain of denial.

Connor continued, “It’s been a while since I’ve been here, but the food’s always been very good. What do you feel like?” He flicked a glance at her over the top of his menu.

You. Holly suddenly put her fingers over her mouth. Oh, God, she hadn’t said that aloud had she?

“The fish looks good. If your stomach’s still a bit weak you might find that light enough.”

She heaved a sigh of relief. “Yes, that sounds great. I’ll have the poached terakihi and a salad.”

The waiter rematerialised to take their orders, Connor placed her order and chose scaloppini for himself.

“You used to work in the typing pool, right?” His question, out of the blue, startled her.

“Yes,” she replied cautiously.

“You were such an earnest young thing.”

Surprised he’d even noticed her back then, Holly just nodded. Connor stroked the condensation from the side of his glass with one long finger. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the movement, nor bring herself to take a sip of her water to relieve her suddenly very dry throat.

“What made you decide to become a PA? I would’ve thought you’d have gone for a degree at the university. Law, maybe.”

As idly curious as his comment was, all Holly’s shutters came racing down. She’d held her cards so close to her chest for so long now it had become second nature. If you shared nothing, you couldn’t lay yourself open to ridicule or worse, pity. While part of her ached to tell Connor more about her past, the lines, as she knew them, had been clearly delineated many years ago. In life there were the “haves” and the “have nots.” Those lines weren’t made to be crossed.

“I thought about it,” she admitted, pushing a piece of fish around her plate with her fork, “but I decided I’d rather get my teeth into a job where I could start earning straightaway.”

She would have given anything to complete a degree at Auckland University, but in her world there had been no well-heeled parents to supplement a student loan. If she was to get anywhere in life it would be on her own, just like she’d been since the day her mother had left her.

“Money’s that important to you you’d give up doing something you really wanted?”

Holly’s throat closed. Something she really wanted? All her plans—what she’d wanted—to save enough money to start an investigation into who she really was and where she’d come from—had come unstuck with the onset of the latter stages of Andrea’s illness when Holly had assumed responsibility for the financial maintenance of Andrea’s care. She owed it to her foster sister, and more. Andrea had been the one person who’d stuck up for her and who’d forced her to take a long hard look at what had become self-destructive behaviour. She owed her foster sister her very existence. Looking after Andrea, for however much longer she lived, was something Holly was bound by both love and honour to do.

“You can’t deny that money is important. Look at your own family.” She attempted to deflect his attention from herself. “I’ve heard the stories about how hard your dad worked when you were just a boy. You don’t build a corporation like Knights without a lot of hard work. He never had any degree.”

“True. But it came at a far bigger cost than just money. He was a stranger to us while we were growing up. When our mother died, it was like he’d died, too, for all we saw him. Believe me, Holly, money isn’t everything.”