Читать книгу Her Millionaire Boss - Jennie Adams - Страница 9

‘YOU’RE not going into Henry’s sick room, Margaret. Not like this.’ Not with a lawyer at her side and greed all over her face.

Chrissy Gable took a deep breath of antiseptic-laden hospital air, and looked her boss’s second wife right in her calculating eyes. ‘His health is too precarious to risk upsetting him. Surely you can understand that?’

With her heart pounding hard, Chrissy faced the other woman. Even the usual weight of waist-length hair bundled onto her head and bound with a couple of chopsticks felt leaden at this moment. If Margaret had cared even the slightest bit for her elderly husband’s health…

Instead, she had delayed her return to Melbourne until the end of her vacation at Mount Selwyn. Why let duty interfere with her fun?

Henry didn’t deserve a wife like Margaret. He hadn’t deserved to be deserted by his grandson six years ago, either.

Nate Barrett had transferred to the overseas arm of the company just weeks before Chrissy had commenced working for Henry. The man had shucked his grandfather off like excess baggage, even though Henry had all but raised him as a son.

Chrissy had wondered if her boss would ever get over the hurt. Henry may have been recently married, but Nate’s leaving had shredded the older man’s heart. Chrissy had made it her task to help her boss through the pain. She and Henry had formed a deep bond. She would watch over him now, too.

‘Get out of my way,’ Margaret grated.

I don’t think so. Margaret might have tricked Henry long enough once to get a ring on her finger. He might now be too proud, gentlemanly or inexplicably smitten to cast the fifty-year-old off.

To Chrissy’s mind, however, the woman lacked decidedly in redeeming features. ‘Lose the lawyer, and I’ll be happy to move.’

‘I’m Henry’s wife.’ Margaret’s hands curled into fists. ‘I have every right—’

‘Every right to what? Upset him? Cause a second stroke that could be fatal?’ Did Margaret’s greed know no bounds? ‘He’s too ill to deal with a lawyer right now, so I suggest you take your Power of Attorney form and—’

‘How do you know…?’ Margaret broke off and pushed forward. ‘Out of my way. You’re just his secretary.’

The man at her side followed.

‘It’s PA, actually, and I’m not shifting.’ Chrissy held her ground in front of the closed door of the hospital room but her nerves screamed. She couldn’t let Margaret coerce Henry into signing anything. Nor could she allow the woman to have Henry declared mentally unfit.

She had to stop this, but how? One thought formed. Desperately, she snatched at it. ‘Henry came around. Was completely lucid. Earlier. While I sat with him.’

A guilty heat stole into her face at the fib, but oh, how she wished it could be true. ‘He’s perfectly capable of looking after his own affairs.’

‘That’s a lie.’ Margaret leaned forward, her thin mouth pinched. ‘He’s been as good as a vegetable since they brought him here yesterday.’

Righteous anger roared through Chrissy at Margaret’s callous attitude. ‘If I’d started work for him just a few months earlier, I’d have stopped you ever getting your snares…’ She broke off. ‘You seem to think you know an awful lot about his condition, for someone who’s only just arrived.’

‘A nurse—’ Margaret clamped her lips shut, but Chrissy got the picture. Margaret had wasted no time in ensuring she had a spy in the place.

‘Mrs Montbank has rights,’ the lawyer announced. ‘You are attempting to stand in the way of her exercising those rights.’

‘Mr Montbank has rights, too.’ Forget the slimy legal eagle, she thought, and instead she turned to Margaret again. ‘I repeat, I won’t let you in. You just want to shove Henry into Assisted Care and go your merry way, spending all his money.’

‘How dare you?’ Air hissed through Margaret’s clenched teeth. The truth of Chrissy’s accusations filled her eyes. ‘What do you know? Who’s told you—?’

‘Mrs Montbank.’ The lawyer stepped forward. ‘Let me handle this.’

‘Don’t bother.’ Chrissy spread herself before the closed door. Feet apart. Arms out. In the most threatening manner she could manage, she waggled her head and deployed the only defence she had. ‘Observe the headgear. Those are real porcelain chopsticks in there. I’ll use them if I have to!’

Margaret almost laughed, then her eyes narrowed. ‘Are you threatening me?’

‘I simply know that Henry would never willingly give you control of anything more than your budgeted allowance, Margaret—not of his personal funds, and certainly not of his business dealings. I’ll testify to it if I have to.’

‘You little tramp.’ Fury radiated from Margaret. ‘You’re probably sleeping with him, hoping to take him from me.’ She raised a clawed hand.

Now, that was too much. How dared Margaret insult Henry that way? How dared she insult Chrissy’s relationship with her boss? Without conscious thought, Chrissy raised her arm toward the buried chopsticks.

‘Thanks for holding the fort while I got some air, sweetheart.’ A man strode toward the group. Tall. Compelling. Effortlessly confident.

His turbulent blue gaze locked with hers. ‘Showing off your hairstyling abilities again, huh?’

He gave an indulgent grin that didn’t reach his eyes. ‘You shouldn’t dislodge those valuable antique chopsticks though, babe. What if you dropped one and it shattered?’

Babe? Sweetheart? Antique chopsticks? Who was this man? He made absolutely no sense. Yet the tone of his voice, the slight caress in it, the height and breadth and strength of him, all swamped her senses.

Muted sounds of hospital, of metal trolleys on polished floors, of professionals conferring in lowered tones dimmed. She saw only the man before her. Heard only her heartbeat, drumming her confusion and awareness.

When the warning in his gaze gave way to sensual heat, she knew he felt the connection, too. Long moments of still, silent acknowledgement passed between them.

She didn’t know this man, yet everything within her screamed that she did. That she had always known him, and would always know him.

‘Missed me?’ He clasped her raised arm, drew it up and around until her fingers speared into the crisp black hair at his nape. His hand covered hers, held it there as her anger subsided and confusion and awareness rose.

‘Um, well—’

‘Indeed.’ One kiss on her forehead. Another pressed against the crease at the side of her mouth. A hint of lemon and ginger on his breath.

She tasted the flavour of it from the side of her mouth with her tongue.

His gaze followed the movement, darkened, then turned to warning as hot, firm lips moved to whisper into her ear. ‘Your name?’

‘Christianna. Chrissy. Gable. Chrissy Gable.’ Or should that be Chrissy Gabble? Her thoughts struggled through the veil of weariness and stress. Struggled to come to terms with him.

This knight errant. This rescuer who had scorched her with a look and the barest of touches. Only one identity made any sense, but it couldn’t be. No way would he have bothered to come back. When people left like that, they never returned. And she would never have this sort of feeling for—

‘Ah. Henry’s PA. I should have known.’ Lean fingers traced across her skin with an exploratory insistence that belied the businesslike tone of his words.

Chrissy’s eyelids drooped behind her glasses. Just when she thought she would give in to the call of her senses and tilt her face completely into his hand, he stopped and shifted away. Cleared his throat. Blanked his face into a mask of calm determination as he faced the tableau of lawyer and avaricious wife.

‘Get rid of the lawyer, Margaret, as Chrissy has suggested. Then you can see Henry. Otherwise, there’s nothing you can achieve here.’

Margaret puffed up angrily. ‘He’s my husband—’

‘Yes. And he’ll be watched over very carefully during every moment of his recovery. Do you understand?’

A look passed between him and Margaret. Burning anger on his part. Some other sort of burning on hers. Chrissy shivered at the impact of those clashing looks.

Margaret’s hard stare glanced off her, and turned back to the man at her side. Shifted subtly into something else. ‘You haven’t even been in the country. What is she to you?’

He looked at Chrissy, looked back to Margaret. ‘It’s none of your business.’

‘You didn’t think that way once.’

‘You’re delusional.’ He examined her face with a passionless look of his own.

Margaret looked as though she would like to say more, then clamped her mouth into an unflattering line. ‘This isn’t the end. I’ll see my husband with a thousand lawyers, if I want to.’ She spun and walked away, her companion silent at her side.

Chrissy reached for a businesslike approach to counteract the way this man had made her feel. Even now, she struggled to accept that he had brought out such reactions in her.

‘You’re Nate Barrett. Henry’s grandson.’ It was the only thing that made sense. No way would Margaret have given way to anyone else. Not even for a moment.

He inclined his head. ‘I’m afraid you had the advantage over me at first.’

Despite what Chrissy might have thought of Nate Barrett in past years, despite how he had made her feel just now, he had to be informed. ‘Margaret was trying to get Power of Attorney, or get Henry declared unfit. I’m not sure exactly which, but I doubt she would stop at much to get what she wants.’

The woman’s greed was legendary. ‘I discovered by accident that Henry put her on a budget twelve months ago, but her behaviour hasn’t changed much. Except to reveal her bitterness. I hate to think what could happen if she got control within the company, or of Henry’s personal funds.’

‘She won’t be allowed to try to get at him or his money again.’ He said it with absolute conviction.

Chrissy could see the similarities to Henry now. Nate shared the tall stature, the breadth of shoulders. The Montbank stamp had honed his features into a strong, to-die-for appeal.

He doesn’t hold a to-die-for appeal for me. He can’t, because I know what he’s really like. Who was she trying to convince, though? Besides herself?

The man abandoned his grandfather. Gave Henry years of heartache.

Why had he come? What had driven him? It couldn’t be more than a momentary guilt. Her resolve to dislike him stiffened. ‘Why did you pretend we’re involved?’

‘You do realise you were about to get yourself slapped with an assault charge? It doesn’t matter whether you intend to actually harm a person or not. If the threat is there…’ His mouth twitched. ‘Even if it is a threat of attack by killer chopsticks. What would you have done? Poked her eye out with one?’

‘Dear God.’ Suddenly she wished she could sit down. ‘I can’t believe—’

‘Hey.’ The humour left his face. ‘You’ve been under stress. I seriously doubt you’d have done her any harm.’

The stress might explain the chopstick idea. It didn’t explain why she had stood passively while Nate Barrett had kissed her.

To him it had been an act, of course. A way to stop her from getting into trouble with Margaret’s lawyer.

The surprise of it had got to her. That was why she hadn’t resisted. Now resentment and anger flared afresh. She met those feelings with relief. How dared he stroll back here after years of absence and kiss his grandfather’s PA just like that, anyway? ‘Couldn’t you have stopped me some other way?’

‘I had limited time and no idea who you were.’ Chrissy Gable had asked a simple question, yet Nate didn’t have a simple answer. Nothing had been simple since he got the message that his grandfather had suffered a stroke.

Wanting Chrissy was yet another complication. He didn’t want to admit that touching her hadn’t only been for the sake of expediency. ‘It seemed the best way to get that arm away from your weaponry without drawing the lawyer’s notice.’

A casual touch. Two simple kisses that should have meant nothing. Instead, that touch, those kisses, had started a slow burn in his gut. In truth, the burn had started the moment he’d locked gazes with her. And it hadn’t stopped yet.

‘I guess I should thank you, even if you’ve given Margaret the impression that we’re close, and that I go around wearing priceless artefacts in my hair, instead of store-bought kitchen implements.’ Chrissy’s mouth pursed. ‘I couldn’t find anything else, you see, so I thought the chopsticks would do.’

He gave a cursory nod. Wondered if her lateral thinking extended to other areas of her life. Like her love life. His interest in her burned, but it wouldn’t be wise to act on it.

Relationships—the ones that mattered—didn’t work out for Nate. He had proved it first with his mother, then later with Henry. Nowadays, he preferred to be alone and to keep his involvements casual. It was the sensible choice.

Chrissy Gable didn’t strike him as the casual type. ‘Very inventive of you to raid the kitchen for hairdressing implements.’

‘Sometimes innovation is the only way.’ She toyed with the frames of her glasses.

His gaze roved over her. Nut-brown hair sat in a coronet of braids atop her head with the two chopsticks poking out at angles. A grey business suit clung to her slender body and made her eyes seem brighter.

Those eyes behind the enormous horn-rimmed glasses changed as he watched her. Chilled. She might have responded to him minutes ago, but she clearly didn’t want to accept the attraction. It was more, even, than that. ‘You’ve chosen not to like me, haven’t you?’

‘That’s true. I don’t like you.’ Attraction aside, she clearly meant it. ‘I also don’t know that I can trust you with Henry, any more than I could trust Margaret. But you’re the only hope I’ve got.’

‘You have no choice but to trust me.’ I share the attraction, Chrissy Gable, and I wonder what we’re going to do about that?

The answer should be a clear-cut nothing, but he wanted to explore further. To test out these reactions they shared. A little curiosity never hurt anyone. So maybe he would test the waters. If he felt so inclined.

It was a choice, after all, not a necessity. ‘Your distress call brought me. Did you think I wouldn’t answer it when I received your message?’

Her face told him she had thought precisely that. And had damned him for it, for the years of absence.

It amazed him that he wanted to defend himself. What could he say?

When my grandfather’s new wife turned up naked in my bed, I decided Australia wasn’t big enough for the three of us and I left?

He had made the choice so Henry wouldn’t have to know of Margaret’s behaviour. Now he was back for a short time and uncertain of his reception. He certainly wasn’t going to tell this prickly woman any of that! ‘It’s time I saw my grandfather.’

‘I’ll come with you.’ She chewed on her lip, before saying grudgingly, ‘Thank you for stopping me before. It’s appreciated, but it doesn’t mean I won’t make you sorry if you upset Henry yourself.’

‘He’s awake? Lucid?’ His heart thumped. In moments he might be speaking to Henry. Would his grandfather look at him with those same wounded eyes that had begged an explanation Nate hadn’t been able to give?

Six years ago, when Nate had made it clear he had to go and refused to say why, Henry had sold him the overseas arm of the company for a pittance. Had insisted Nate take it. Nate had tried to be generous in return, but Henry had refused to accept any money from the business Nate had turned into a multi-million-dollar concern.

Then, three years ago, Henry had asked Nate to come back. To share once more in the running of the business here. Henry had seemed almost desperate. Nate had told his grandfather he didn’t want to make that step backward. ‘You said he’d spoken—’

‘I’m sorry. No. I made that up to try to keep Margaret at bay. He’s disoriented.’ Her mouth pursed into a ferocious moue. ‘That’s temporary. He’ll be back to his normal self and tossing cryptic clues around the office again before we know it.’

‘Clues about what?’ He shook his head. It wasn’t important. The only things that mattered were Henry’s health, and keeping the company in good order. Those, Nate could work on. If Henry would trust him with them.

‘Never mind. Look, if my grandfather’s condition isn’t temporary—’

‘Of course your grandfather’s condition is temporary.’ She said it with such passion that his body hummed in response.

Unnerved, he raised an eyebrow, feigning an indifference he didn’t feel. ‘Surely nobody can be sure of that at this stage?’

‘I don’t understand why you would say such things. Henry has to get better. Completely better. I refuse to contemplate any other option.’ On those heartfelt words, she opened the door of the hospital room, and entered.

Nate followed. His grandfather looked awful. Tubes and monitors covered Henry. His long frame seemed defenceless beneath the hospital-issue linens. Henry appeared to have aged ten years since Nate had seen him, not six.

This sick, vulnerable man would never run a company again. Henry was seventy years old, should have retired years before. It hit Nate hard that he should have seen that need when Henry asked him to come back. He would never have returned here, but he should have made Henry agree to retirement.

‘Gramps.’ The word caught in his throat. Hadn’t been used since Nate was a child and Henry had taken him in when his mother opted out.

Nate reached out a hand to touch Henry’s where it lay against the covers. Without raising his gaze, he said in a low voice to Chrissy, ‘Sit down. You’re feeling the strain more than you realise.’

‘How did you know?’ She sat abruptly.

How had Nate known? He had simply intuited her feelings, had felt connected closely enough to her even at opposite sides of a hospital bed that he just knew.

‘Surprised…you…came. No…need.’ His grandfather’s voice was slurred, his breath laboured, the words themselves full of the years of separation and hurt.

Nate closed his eyes and tried to block the pain. ‘I had to come.’

I had to come, but I don’t want to make things worse, so please don’t think I’ll stay past making sure you’ll be OK.

Chrissy clutched Henry’s other hand in hers. ‘You’re speaking. I’ve been so concerned. I’ll look after everything at work. You don’t need to worry—’

‘I’ll do it.’ Nate spoke over her, over rash promises she couldn’t possibly keep. His gaze sought his grandfather’s. ‘I’ll make sure everything is taken care of.’

‘Don’t…need….’ Henry stopped to draw a breath.

‘You can trust me.’ A muscle worked in Nate’s jaw. ‘I’ll fix things so it’s all right.’

Did his grandfather understand that he hadn’t wanted to hurt him six years ago, or three years ago? That he never wanted to hurt him?

I can give you this much, Gramps. Help when you need it. It’s all I have.

‘I’m sure Nate’s welcome to stay for a short time.’ Chrissy’s tone said the opposite, although her expression was bland enough. ‘But I can manage in your absence. The important thing is that you be free of worry and stress. Your only focus should be to relax and get better.’

‘I agree.’ Nate kept his tone calm and even. ‘But I’m more qualified to take control than your PA.’

‘Run…own…blasted…business,’ Henry grumped. ‘Sign…out…today…if…wanted to.’

Chrissy’s mouth trembled before she firmed it. At the sight, Nate’s frustration drained away.

‘You’ve had a stroke.’ Her voice trembled, too, just the tiniest bit. ‘If you don’t look after yourself, it could happen again and the next one could be much worse.’

She took a deliberate deep breath, then leaned forward to whisper, ‘Who’d test cryptic crossword clues on me then? Or take me out for lattes on Thursdays or argue with me about the different football teams?’

‘I…like…the…footy.’ Henry’s mouth turned down.

Her voice softened to warm affection. ‘We’ll be watching the footy matches on your big-screen TV again before you know it.’

How close were his grandfather and his PA? Before Nate could consider the question, Henry turned his gaze toward him.

The tired eyes searched his for a long time, then softened, the anger replaced by at least a tenuous acceptance. ‘You…can…run things…until I’m better.’

That was all Nate needed to hear. He ignored the hint of further expectation in his grandfather’s eyes. ‘I’ll make sure everything’s all right. Meanwhile, you get some rest.’

On those words, he unfolded his long legs from the chair and stood. Chrissy’s gaze followed his movements, tracked over his charcoal suit and matching shirt.

Not once since he had entered the room and sat by his grandfather had he managed to completely banish her from his consciousness. Now his body tightened in awareness of her.

A nurse glanced in at the door. ‘How are we doing?’

‘Henry’s making sense.’ A tiny dimple flirted with Chrissy’s right cheek. ‘He woke up and we had a talk. His speech was slow but lucid.’

‘Brilliant.’ The nurse’s smile was bright, winsome. It didn’t do a thing for Nate. ‘I’ll let his doctor know.’

‘Get well, Henry.’ Chrissy kissed his resting form, then stepped back.

Henry stirred slightly.

Nate squeezed the old man’s hand. ‘I’ll speak to your doctor about having you shifted out of here. The security’s not tight enough for my liking.’

Chrissy opened her mouth as though to question him. He gave a slight shake of his head, put his hand to the small of her back and eased her out the door.

‘Not here.’ He growled the words into her ear.

She shivered, and a reaction, warm and pleasurable, flowed through him.

A moment later, she stalked from the room. When they were far enough along the corridor that Henry couldn’t possibly hear them, she turned toward him, her eyes the liquid hue of mercury. ‘There’s absolutely no need for you to be here for more than a day or two. I can handle things, like I said.

‘And just where do you think you’re going to move my boss, anyway?’