The Billionaire Boss's Innocent Bride(3)

she said a little helplessly. 'Six o'clock this evening, for an hour, is about all the free time you have left.'

'That OK with you, Miss Hill?' He swung back to Alex.

She frowned. 'Where?'

'Here. I have a penthouse on the top floor. Just use the penthouse   buzzer and give your name-Margaret will pass it on to the staff up   there.' He held out his hand to Alex.

She didn't offer him her hand. She said instead, 'Brief me?'

Max Goodwin dropped his hand. 'Yes, brief you on these negotiations,' he   said and added precisely, 'that is all. And for the simple reason that   it may not only be social chit-chat you'll be translating, because  many a  meaningful conversation has been held outside a conference room.  So I'd  like you to be aware of some of the nuances behind these  talks.' He  raised a satirical eyebrow at her. 'All clear?'                       
       
           



       

Alex shrugged. 'I only asked.'

'Because, despite what you said to the contrary, you couldn't help wondering if I had something else in mind?'

Alex smiled suddenly. 'If you had known my Mother Superior, you would   also know that "penthouses" and "after hours" are all things sensible   girls should avoid like the plague. I guess that habit of suspicion   becomes a bit engrained. I really am over it now, though-I'll come.' She   held out her hand, quite unaware of the startled look in Margaret   Winston's eyes, then the small smile of approval that good lady allowed   herself before she left.

But it was when he took her hand and shook it that Alex discovered   something curiously mesmerizing about Max Goodwin. Was it pure animal   magnetism? she wondered. A heady assault on the senses because, even if   he was arrogant and incredibly high-handed, he was also good-looking  and  impressive with those broad shoulders and narrow hips so that he  wore  his beautifully tailored suit to perfection?

Was it the sneaking suspicion that, despite those blue eyes and the   suit, he'd be quite capable of throwing you across the back of his horse   like a disobedient squaw and cantering off with you?

Don't be ridiculous, Alex, she chided herself immediately …

But it wasn't only that tantalizingly dangerous appeal to him, she   reflected. There was a vitality to him that was hard to resist. There   was the fact that she might despise his ways and means, but she found   him an interesting, worthy opponent to cross swords with.

There was that wary little feeling she'd experienced earlier that he'd   crossed some boundary into the personal with her-was that really why   she'd been a bit dubious about this after-hours meeting in the   penthouse?

On the other hand-and this took her by surprise and shook her a little   as she reclaimed her hand-there was the curiously fascinating detail   that she came up to just above his shoulder height …





CHAPTER TWO


AT FIVE minutes to six that evening, Alex barrelled into the foyer of   Goodwin House with her hair and scarf flying and a variety of shopping   bags hanging from her arms.

She looked around breathlessly for the penthouse buzzer and was   intercepted by the commissionaire. She gave him her name and told him   who she needed to see. He looked doubtful for a moment but led her to   the penthouse lift-he had the grace to look apologetic when her name was   received in the affirmative and the lift doors opened on cue.

'Thirty-fifth floor is what you need, ma'am. Have a good evening!'

Alex pressed thirty-five and prepared to part company with her   stomach-she didn't like lifts, but this one turned out to be painless.   And on the thirty-fifth floor it opened directly into Max Goodwin's   penthouse.

It wasn't Max who greeted her, however, it was a man of about forty who   said pleasantly, 'Miss Hill, I believe? I'm Max's domestic  co-ordinator,  Jake Frost. I'm afraid he's running a few minutes late.  Would you care  to come through to the lounge and may I get you a drink?  Oh-I'll take  the shopping bags.'

'Thank you, thank you.' She also divested herself of her jacket and   scarf. 'And just a soft drink would be nice-shopping can be exhausting   and thirst-making.'

'It would appear you've done quite a bit of it,' Jake remarked as he relieved her of the carrier bags.

'It's not for me,' Alex assured him. 'I mean, it is, but I'll be giving   it all back. It's not as if I'm ruinously spendthrift or anything like   that.' Her eyes twinkled suddenly behind her glasses. 'Oh, dear. Does  it  really matter what people think of me?'

Jake Frost took a moment to take a more personal, less professional look   at the new interpreter. He'd been told about her and not thought much   one way or the other about it. Now he decided she was charming even if   she was not at all the kind of woman Max Goodwin usually …

But what am I thinking? he wondered. This is business.

All the same it was with a genuine smile that he said, 'I think it would   be a shame not to enjoy it just a little bit, even if you are giving   them all back.'

A few minutes later, Alex had a tall, frosted glass in her hand as she   admired the view from Max Goodwin's penthouse. It was a beautiful view   over the river and the city in the last of the daylight as lights   started to twinkle on and she identified some of the landmarks.

The lounge behind her was spacious and absolutely eye-catching. The   carpet was sea green, the couches were covered in apricot cut velvet   with poppy-red cushions and the occasional tables were enamelled black.                       
       
           



       

A magnificent Chinese cabinet in black-and-gold lacquer dominated one   wall and on another a marvellous, almost full-length abstract painting   took pride of place and brought a bouquet of beautiful, swirling colours   to the room.

'Hello, Alex,' a voice said behind her, and she turned to see Max Goodwin stroll into the lounge.

He'd obviously just showered, his hair was still damp, and he was now   wearing jeans and a sweater. He walked over to the bar and poured   himself a drink.

'Do sit down,' he invited.

Jake came in as she took a seat. 'I've rung ahead to say you might be a   little late, Max. I've put the wine in a cooler bag for you-' he   indicated the bag on the bar '-

and here are the flowers.' He picked up a bunch and laid them back again. 'So I'll get going, if you don't mind.'

'Sure. Cheers!' Max Goodwin saluted his domestic co-ordinator and sat   down opposite Alex. 'Well, how did you get on this afternoon?'

'Fine,' Alex said. 'I think. But look, Mr Goodwin, if you're running late again maybe we could find some other time for this?'

'No, it doesn't matter if I'm a bit late, there is no other time, and I'm determined to enjoy this drink.'

Alex shrugged. 'I just wouldn't like to make you late for your date.'

He looked amused. 'My date, as you put it with a certain amount of   disapproval, Miss Hill, is with my grandmother. She's in a nursing home   at the moment so the wine and the flowers are to cheer her up.'

'Oh.' Alex took her glasses off and polished them. Had she sounded   disapproving and if so why? Had the subconscious impression been growing   in her that Max Goodwin was something of a playboy? Helped along no   doubt by the wine and the flowers, those good looks and that impressive   physique and the fact that he wasn't married. Along with, of course,   that unexplained little trill of wariness she'd experienced at the   interview this morning.

But assuming she'd misread that, wasn't all the rest of it akin to judging a book by its cover?

'I'm sorry,' she said and smiled suddenly at him, 'if I sounded   disapproving. I, well, it seems one of my impressions of you is that you   could be a bit of a playboy but I don't really have any concrete   evidence so I shall discard it.'

For a long moment he was speechless.

Alex glanced at her watch. 'Should we begin the briefing?' she   suggested, her eyes a serious hazel behind her repositioned glasses, but   with her lips still quirking. Max Goodwin recovered himself. 'Thank   you,' he said gravely, 'for being prepared to revise your opinions.   Naturally, I don't see myself as a playboy, although our definitions   could vary-' he grimaced '-but perhaps it's not a good idea to go into   that. And-' a lightning look of wicked amusement flew Alex's way '-to be   honest, disapproval of any kind doesn't often come my way so I'll look   upon it as a salutary experience. OK, on to the briefing.'

When he stopped talking Alex had a fair idea of the gist of the   negotiations he was undertaking as well as a familiarity with the   territories they covered. It would be a huge coup for Goodwin Minerals   if they scored this breakthrough into the Chinese market, she realized.