Читать книгу His Very Personal Assistant - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 7

‘WELL, Marcus’s last PA did warn you that you might have to go away on business with him occasionally,’ Penny, Kit’s flatmate, teased her later that evening as the two of them prepared a meal together.

Yes, Angie Dwyer had told Kit that travelling with Marcus Maitland on business was part of her job description; it was just that it hadn’t been an issue over the last six months because, until this weekend, Marcus had preferred to take Lewis with him when he went on a trip.

Not that going away on business with Marcus Maitland was actually a problem. It was just the way he had told her and then chuckled at her stunned reaction that had thrown her slightly.

In fact, a lot!

‘Don’t look so worried, Miss McGuire,’ Marcus had grinned as she’d stared across the office at him after his announcement that he and Andrea Revel had parted company, and that he was taking Kit away for the weekend with him. ‘I’m not suggesting that I’m about to make indecent advances upon your person,’ he’d told her mockingly. ‘I just happen to need your capabilities more this weekend than I do Andrea’s rather more obvious charms!’

Kit hadn’t been too sure she found that an altogether flattering summing-up of the situation, but as she had made a point of deliberately playing down her own looks there wasn’t too much she could say in her own defence.

What would Marcus say if he could see her now? she wondered. Her hair was loose like silken flame past her shoulders, her skimpy tee shirt and fitted denims clung to her slender curves and there were no heavy glasses, either, to hide the large deep grey eyes that were surrounded by thick dark lashes. She looked a good ten years younger than the primly efficient Miss McGuire!

But knowing Marcus’s preference for tiny blondes, he probably still wouldn’t be impressed, she allowed ruefully.

‘So where exactly are the two of you going this weekend?’ Penny enquired with deliberate innocence as she sliced up tomatoes to go in a salad.

Kit paused in opening a bottle of wine to wince at her friend’s teasing. ‘We aren’t going anywhere,’ she corrected irritably. ‘Marcus has accepted an invitation from Desmond Hayes—’

‘The airline tycoon, Desmond Hayes?’ Penny cut in speculatively, blue eyes glowing interestedly.

‘Is there another one?’ Kit came back evenly—briefly enjoying her moment of glory as she could see that her friend and flatmate was impressed by the name of their host for the weekend.

‘None that matter,’ Penny acknowledged. ‘Wow. So you’re going to be spending the weekend with Desmond Hayes,’ she admired enviously.

Kit pursed her lips. ‘I am no more spending the weekend with Desmond Hayes than I am with Marcus Maitland; this is simply a working trip,’ she stated firmly.

‘Yes, but you’re still going to be there, alone, with two of the most gorgeous men—’

‘There’s apparently going to be a few other people staying too over the weekend,’ Kit quickly interrupted.

‘Stop bursting my bubble!’ Penny exclaimed disgruntledly, taking a sip from her glass of wine before looking sharply at Kit. ‘Don’t, for goodness’ sake, tell me that you’re going there as Miss McGuire, the PA from No-Nonsenseville? You are, aren’t you?’ she accused incredulously as she saw Kit’s raised brows. ‘Oh, Kit, you can’t—’

‘Of course I can,’ Kit said a little crossly. ‘This is a working trip, Penny, in case you’ve forgotten—’

‘I haven’t forgotten anything,’ her friend assured her seriously. ‘And, after the shenanigans with Mike Reynolds while you worked for him, I can’t exactly blame you for being more cautious where Marcus Maitland is concerned. But you’ve been his assistant for six months, Kit; surely you know what sort of man he is by now?’

Oh, yes, she knew exactly what sort of man Marcus Maitland was: clever and shrewd where business was concerned, a fair but demanding boss. But, as Angie Dwyer had warned her, he changed his women almost as often as he changed his shirt.

‘You’re going to meet Desmond Hayes this weekend,’ Penny said impatiently. ‘Desmond Hayes, Kit; one of the wealthiest men in the country!’

Kit gave a faint smile. ‘He may be, but the last I heard he was on his third marriage!’

‘No, that’s been over for some months,’ Penny dismissed.

Kit gave a firm shake of her head. ‘Then he’s in the middle of a messy divorce,’ she persisted. ‘In either case, I’m not interested. Neither,’ she continued firmly as Penny would have spoken, ‘do I intend changing a single thing about my appearance for what is, after all, a work commitment.’ If she kept repeating that phrase enough, she might even start to believe it herself!

Because a part of her was secretly excited at the thought of spending this time with Marcus away from the office—safely behind the façade of the PA from No-Nonsenseville, of course!

Penny gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re insane!’

Kit gave a smile. ‘I’ll try to bear that in mind.’

‘Insane!’ Penny repeated disgustedly before picking up the salad bowl and sweeping over to the kitchen table, leaving Kit to follow slowly behind her with the plates of baked salmon.

Maybe, feeling as she did about Marcus, she was mad to keep up this charade of efficient primness, but having started it she now had no idea how to finish it…

‘I beg your pardon?’ Kit looked at Marcus incredulously when he called for her the next afternoon, having allowed her to leave the office earlier so that she might be ready for the two of them to make the journey to Desmond Hayes’s home.

He gave a sigh. ‘I said, could you change into something a little less—formal?’ he repeated tersely, eyeing her cream linen suit and flat shoes with obvious distaste. ‘Desmond is expecting my partner for the weekend to be the current woman in my life, not my PA,’ he explained with the deliberate patience of an adult talking to a recalcitrant child.

‘But—but—’

‘Now you sound like a broken record,’ Marcus drawled derisively, moving past her into the flat’s hallway.

Penny was, thankfully, still at work; otherwise there was no knowing what she might have made of what Marcus was asking.

Kit wasn’t too sure of that herself! Exactly what did he mean, she was supposed to be the current woman in his life and not his PA? Surely he wasn’t suggesting—?

‘Calm down, Miss McGuire,’ Marcus ordered as he stood in the hallway looking down at her—a novelty in itself: at five feet ten inches tall, Kit usually found she was taller than most men. ‘I only said Desmond Hayes is expecting you to be the woman I’m involved with—not that I am expecting it too!’

She could feel the warmth of colour enter her cheeks at his taunting tone and mocking expression. But how else could she react after what he had just said?

Marcus gave another sigh. ‘It’s quite simple, Miss McGuire, I look on this weekend as purely business. Desmond may see it a little differently, hence—’

‘Hence you want me to appear to be your girlfriend,’ Kit finished dazedly.

‘There you are.’ Marcus smiled teasingly. ‘I knew you would get it in the end!’

She hadn’t got anything!

This was the very first time Marcus had mentioned anything about this particular aspect of the weekend. Deliberately so? she wondered as she looked at him suspiciously.

His smile turned to a scowl. ‘As I told you yesterday, I’m not about to make indecent advances on your person!’ he told her disgustedly.

But Kit hadn’t needed him to repeat it, knew that he didn’t find her in the least attractive; she just couldn’t make too much sense of what he was saying. It appeared that Marcus had originally intended going with Andrea to Desmond Hayes’s for the weekend—the woman’s vehemence yesterday at being told she wasn’t going after all was proof of that!—so why was he now taking Kit, but still leaving his host with the impression it was his girlfriend who was accompanying him?

‘It’s simple enough, Miss McGuire—’

‘You keep saying that,’ she cut in tensely.

‘But you don’t find it so,’ Marcus replied through gritted teeth. ‘I swear, I want your experience as my PA this weekend, not as a woman.’

‘That part you’ve made abundantly clear!’ she snapped back, slightly disconcerted as Marcus gave her an assessing look for her vehemence. ‘And quite rightly so,’ she added hastily. ‘But what is it you want me—as your PA—to do?’ she persisted, desperately trying to claw back some of the credibility she was sure she had lost just now when she had sounded almost disappointed that Marcus wanted her services professionally but not personally.

Idiot, she chided herself. As if Marcus could ever have any personal interest in her.

‘Observe and listen, mainly,’ he answered in a casual voice. ‘There are rumours that Desmond Hayes is in trouble—financially, for a change, as opposed to the mess he’s made of his personal life. Three wives!’ he added with a disgusted shake of his head.

‘I suppose you think he shouldn’t have married those women at all but just—er—what I meant—’ Kit broke off abruptly, wincing awkwardly as she realised what she had been about to say, the colour once again hot in her cheeks.

‘But just bedded them—like me,’ Marcus finished for her. ‘Was that what you were about to say?’

It was. Though it had dawned on her just how unwise she was being before she had even finished saying it. Although that didn’t stop Marcus from being completely aware of what she had been about to say, anyway!

‘You know, Miss McGuire,’ he murmured, the humour once more lighting the deep blue of his eyes, ‘perhaps this weekend will serve another purpose, after all. You’ve been working for me for six months now, and it’s time I got to know you a little better,’ he enlightened her as she looked at him warily.

Having Marcus get to know her a little or, indeed, a lot better, was not something she particularly wanted!

She deliberately avoided his gaze now. ‘What do the rumours have to say about Desmond Hayes’s financial problems?’ she prompted, determined to take the conversation onto a more businesslike footing.

‘So far, only that he’s in trouble. I want to see if we can’t find out a little more about that over this weekend.’

‘And you don’t think Miss Revel would have been able to help you with that better than I?’ Kit replied, sure that the kittenish Andrea would be much more successful at persuading Desmond Hayes, a man with an obvious weakness for beautiful women, into talking about himself and his problems.

Poor Penny, too; she would be most disappointed to hear that Desmond Hayes might no longer be one of the richest men in England!

Marcus’s mouth thinned. ‘My relationship with Andrea is over,’ he bit out decisively. ‘Besides, I’ve always made it a rule to keep my personal and my private life completely separate.’

‘Strange, I’d heard differently—’ Kit gave an uncomfortable wince as she realised what she had just said.

‘From whom, may I ask?’ he demanded.

‘Someone mentioned it. I forget who,’ Kit said firmly as he gave her a disbelieving look.

His smile was humourless. ‘Angie always did have a big mouth,’ he ruminated. ‘It’s one of the reasons she didn’t work out too well as my previous PA. Whereas you…’

Kit arched dark brows. ‘Me?’

Marcus gave her an appreciative smile. ‘You’re so discreet that even your own personal life is a closed book! This is a nice apartment, by the way.’ He looked around them admiringly. ‘Very minimalistic,’ he approved. The bare wooden floors were adorned with brightly coloured scatter rugs rather than a carpet, and there was just a cream sofa, chair and bookcase in the sitting-room, which he could see from the hallway. ‘Very nice,’ he repeated slowly. ‘Perhaps I’m paying you too much.’ He eyed her with challenging amusement.

Kit had been reeling from his comment about her personal life being a closed book, but this comment about her apartment, coming so close on its heels, made her frown darkly. ‘I happen to share this apartment,’ she told him sharply. ‘And you certainly do not pay me too much!’

Marcus laughed, his teeth very white and even against his tanned skin, his eyes gleaming deeply blue. ‘I thought even you might have something to say about that,’ he responded.

‘Even me?’ she rejoined, wondering exactly what he had meant by that remark.

‘Well, as I’ve already said, you’ve worked for me for six months or so now, and I still know very little about you.’

And he wasn’t going to know anything about her either, if she had her way! Most of it was pretty boring, and what wasn’t boring was pretty damning—as far as Marcus was concerned, she intended her life should remain a closed book!

‘I see nothing wrong in that,’ she told him tartly. ‘The only things I know about your personal life would be better left unknown—’ She broke off abruptly, realising she had yet again overstepped the line she had drawn between them when she had first started working for him. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered, looking away.

Marcus eyed her assessingly. ‘No, you’re not,’ he said comfortably. ‘You said you share this apartment?’ he continued.

One of the things she most admired about this man was his intelligence—though she wasn’t quite so sure about that when it was directed towards her! She had thought he hadn’t paid any particular notice to her comment about sharing the apartment, but he had simply been saving his curiosity for the right moment. Like now.

‘Yes,’ she answered unhelpfully. ‘Now, what is it you want me to wear this weekend, if not my business clothes?’ She noted his own casual black denims and dark blue shirt open at the throat.

‘Anything but,’ he responded. ‘What you have on is okay—if you were going to pay a visit on an aged relative! And I’m sure those suits you wear to the office are very smart—’

‘But?’ Kit interjected guardedly, already stung by his comment about the cream linen suit she was wearing. Though the four dark suits that she usually wore to work were sensible, they were smart of their kind—and had been expensive too.

‘But they aren’t suitable for a summer weekend in the country,’ Marcus persisted unapologetically. ‘For instance, have you packed a bikini?’

‘Certainly not!’

‘Well, Desmond has a full-sized outdoor heated swimming pool. Plus a stable if you happen to ride—’

‘I don’t.’ Kit did her best to repress a shudder just at the thought of getting on a horse; they were truly magnificent creatures to look at—from a distance!—but too unpredictable for her taste. ‘I like to go for walks, though,’ she said lightly, starting to wonder if this weekend might not be fun, after all.

‘Then you’ll need a pair of walking boots, and so do I,’ Marcus informed her happily. ‘And a pair of jeans and some tops to relax in during the day, plus something a bit more glamorous for dinner in the evenings—’

‘Okay, okay.’ Kit held up her hands in self-defence. ‘I get the picture.’

‘Good.’ Marcus nodded his satisfaction. ‘Off you go and change, and repack your suitcase, then. I’ll just sit in here and look through your book collection while I’m waiting,’ he informed her arrogantly, before strolling into the sitting-room to do exactly that.

Kit stared after him frustratedly. She might, as she said, get the picture, but how on earth was she supposed to keep up the prim Miss McGuire role wearing denims—or worse!—a bikini?