The Billionaire's Bride of Convenience(8)

‘I’ve arranged for finger food and drinks in the reception room next to the boardroom. I’ve hired the usual catering company. They’ll arrive around four. You shouldn’t be finished before that.’





He nodded. ‘Excellent. What’s your estimated time of departure for the directors?’





Kathryn shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. I’ve never been to one of these before. You have, though, didn’t you say?’





‘Not for ages. From memory, it was the most ghastly bore.’





‘I’m sure you’ll handle it all extremely well,’ she said. For all Hugh’s faults and flaws he could schmooze anyone, if and when he chose to.





‘A second compliment, Kathryn?’ he said drily. ‘Watch it or I’ll think you’re beginning to approve of me.’





As if, Kathryn thought tartly. ‘It is not my job to approve or disapprove of you, Hugh,’ she said coolly. ‘As I have said before, my job is to help you do your job.’





‘At which you are invaluable,’ he said, picking up his coffee and watching her over the rim as he sipped.





His eyes—his very beautiful blue eyes—were not as carefree as usual. They bored into her, stripping her, not of her clothes but the self-contained façade which usually kept her safely immune to her boss’s considerable charms.





Suddenly a fierce awareness of his sex appeal swamped Kathryn, making a mockery of the way she despised other women’s often swooning reaction to him. She actually felt weak at the knees, a physical phenomenon which she’d never experienced before, and which brought a bitter taste of shame to her mouth. How could she possibly be attracted to him?





Her teeth clenched down hard in her jaw as she struggled to recover her usual calm. But the unwanted sexual responses which had just flooded her traitorous body had left her feeling flustered, and confused.





She did the only thing she could do, under the circumstances. Said she had something to do and left the room.





CHAPTER THREE





‘THAT’S a great girl you’ve got over there.’





Hugh followed the direction of Max’s eyes and his gaze landed back on Kathryn; something he’d been trying to avoid all afternoon. Not too difficult a task during the meeting itself when she’d chosen to sit in a chair in a corner behind Hugh’s left shoulder.





At the moment, however, Kathryn was working the reception room, chatting away to a group of the more elderly directors, bringing a smile to even the stuffiest of the gentlemen.





‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘She is.’





‘Better than Dickie’s secretary. More intelligent. More stylish, too. I hope you’re paying her well. You wouldn’t want to lose her.’





‘I’m afraid that might not be my call. Kathryn’s engaged to be married.’





‘So? Married women work all the time. She doesn’t look the type to stay home and play happy families. She has too much chutzpah!’





Too much of everything, Hugh wanted to say as he stared at her once more.





‘Really, Max?’ he said instead, somewhat impatiently. ‘How can you possibly glean the measure of a woman’s chutzpah from across the room?’





‘I was talking to her earlier and happened to make some critical remark about the recent rise in interest rates. She took me to task and told me in no uncertain terms that if I thought the reserve bank was wrong, I didn’t understand the effects of inflation on the economy. She didn’t pander to my position, my sex or my age. She said it as it is, without fear or favour.’





‘Kathryn does have a tendency to speak her mind,’ Hugh said drily.





Max chuckled in his beard. ‘Sounds like just what the doctor ordered for you, young man.’





‘Meaning?’





‘Meaning I would imagine that the majority of the opposite sex panders to you something rotten.’





‘That is a burden I have to bear,’ Hugh remarked in droll tones. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Max, I really should mingle.’





It was a full hour later before Hugh accompanied the last of the directors to the lifts. When he returned to the reception room, the caterers had almost finished cleaning up and Kathryn was frowning down at the screen on her mobile phone.





‘That’s just so typical,’ she muttered.





‘Something wrong?’ he asked.





Her head whipped up, her eyes showing a most uncharacteristic consternation at finding him there.





‘No, not really. Daryl was going to take me out to dinner tonight. But um something has come up and he can’t.’