Читать книгу Law Of Attraction - Пенни Джордан, PENNY JORDAN - Страница 7

ONE of the files she had been instructed to study would of course have to come under ‘A’, Charlotte reflected wryly as she glanced up towards the topmost shelf, several feet above her head, but as she chewed on her bottom lip and wondered how on earth she was supposed to get to the file she suddenly saw the step-ladders carefully stowed away in a corner.

They were the lightweight aluminium kind and easy for her to pick up and carry and open out. Anxious to collect the files and start work on reading them, she hurried up the steps, cursing under her breath as she recognised the folly of doing so in high heels and a straight skirt. She had never particularly liked heights and she realised a little queasily that in order to reach the file she wanted she was going to have to stand on the topmost step and that she would have nothing to hold on to other than the shelf itself.

Her mind filled with the horrendous mental vision of the metal rack, steps, files and all toppling over completely as she clung to it, causing her to balance herself as carefully as she could without relying on it for support.

As she looked quickly along the rack for the file she wanted she realised that she had positioned the ladders too close to the ‘AM’s rather than the ‘AN’ section that she needed.

Trust her. Now she couldn’t even do a simple job like collecting a few files efficiently. Irritated with herself and frustrated with impatience, she leaned over as far as she could, cursing under her breath as she felt her skirt pull tightly against her legs, impeding her. The file was tantalisingly close. If she could just stretch out a few more centimetres she would be able to reach it without having to go to all the bother of climbing down the steps, repositioning them and then climbing up them again.

She held her breath, stretching her body as far as she could as she reached for the file.

‘What the…?’

The shock of hearing Daniel Jefferson’s sharp exclamation made her turn defensively to face him, but she had forgotten her precarious position on the ladders, and as she turned she felt them rock beneath her with the unsteadiness of her own movements, and she knew that she was going to fall.

Only she didn’t; instead of finding herself in an ignominious heap on the floor at Daniel Jefferson’s feet, she found herself in the equally ignominious position of being held against his body as he reached out and grabbed her before she could fall.

Several equally unpalatable facts hit her at the same time: firstly that she had made a complete and absolute fool of herself and no doubt further confirmed his belief that she was not the kind of employee he wanted; secondly that as she fell she must have dislodged some of the files and that they and their contents were now lying in a puddle of papers and tape on the floor while the ladders leaned drunkenly against the shelves; and, thirdly, and most unpalatable of all, Daniel was holding her so that her breasts were virtually on a level with his eyes and, even worse, she was horribly aware of the length of dark-tight-covered thigh she was now exposing.

‘It’s OK, I’ve got you,’ she heard him telling her, as if she needed telling. She had a perfectly good set of senses and they were fast relaying to her that not only had he ‘got her’, as he had put it, but that for some extraordinary reason her body actually seemed to rather like the sensation of his solid male warmth against it.

Impossible. She didn’t even like the man, much less…She closed her eyes against the attack of vertigo that hit her as Daniel started to lower her to the ground, instinctively grabbing hold of his jacket-covered arms to combat her dizziness.

‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ she heard him asking her as her feet finally touched the floor. ‘That could have been quite a nasty accident. What on earth were you doing, anyway?’

Now that he had released her and stepped back from her so that he could look at her, Charlotte pushed the feelings she had experienced when he had held her to the back of her mind. Quite naturally, as well as shock, she was now also suffering from embarrassment and temper.

‘I should have thought that was obvious,’ she told him, ignoring the first part of his question. ‘I was trying to reach a file.’

She flushed as he looked from her to the ladders leaning against the shelves.

‘Mm…but surely not on those? Why didn’t you use the other ladders? We had them specially designed for the top shelves.’

The other ladders. Charlotte swallowed, and felt her face flame as Daniel walked past her and then closed the door to the room, so that she could see in the wall space alongside the door a pair of tall aluminium ladders.

‘As you can see, these have a guide rail on them, specifically to prevent the kind of accident you so nearly sustained.’

As she swallowed her humiliation and fury Charlotte ached to tell him that if he hadn’t startled her she would not have fallen off the ladders in the first place.

‘After all, this is a solicitors’ practice,’ he told her wryly. ‘Don’t you think we’re well aware of the dangers of litigation should our employees damage themselves in the execution of their work?’

The room was so small and he was so tall, so…so big that suddenly there didn’t seem to be enough air. Charlotte found that she was having difficulty in breathing somehow. She was aware that Daniel was watching her…that he was, in fact, she realised after one quick startled look at him, looking at her mouth.

Immediately she was filled with an irresistible need to touch her lips with her tongue-tip. Why, she asked herself savagely, to see if they’re still there? Of course they are, and what you’re doing is one of the oldest and most provocative come-ons there is. The kind of trick some third-rate film director might pull. Maybe so, but she still couldn’t stop herself from doing it, a quick reflex action, instinctive and unstoppable.

She must be going crazy, she decided lightheadedly. It must be the lack of air in the room, the shock of her near-accident. She swayed slightly on her feet and heard Daniel asking her again, ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’

She parted her lips to speak and then froze as he made a small, almost inaudible sound. When she looked at him his eyes were a dark glittering grey. He must have some special mesmeric powers, she thought dizzily as she tried to look away and could not. No wonder he was the darling of the media. He probably mesmerised his TV audiences in the same way that he was mesmerising her.

Angry with herself for her weakness, she closed her eyes and turned her head away, taking a deep calming breath.

When she opened her eyes again she felt no better, but at least she was no longer looking directly at him.

‘I’m fine,’ she told him shortly, and then, as she headed for the door, she found the will-power to say grittily, ‘What a pity you managed to catch me. If you hadn’t done and I’d fallen on you, injuring you, you could have sued me.’

To her surprise he laughed, and then surprised her even further by telling her, ‘Lydia would have loved you.’

She had her hand on the door-handle when he stopped her, taking hold of her so gently but so powerfully that she could only stare up at him. She gave him a suspicious angry look, her muscles resisting him as she glared at him.

‘I don’t know what you think you’re doing.’

He was still smiling at her, but now his smile chilled a little and his voice was crisply cool as he told her, ‘I think you might want to—er—adjust your skirt before you leave.’

With that he stepped past her and opened the door, firmly closing it and leaving her shut in the small room, her face on fire as she glanced down and saw the ruched, untidy state of her skirt, and the length of thigh it exposed.

She was perilously close to angry tears as she dragged the fabric back down, and then set about tidying up the mess on the floor.

Damn him. Damn him. It was all his fault…if he hadn’t startled her…

It was a further half an hour or so before she had collected the rest of the files. When she went back to her office her heart sank as she saw that the communicating door to Daniel’s office was open.

He was on the telephone when she went in, and as she walked to her own desk she saw a packet of sandwiches open on his.

He had finished his call and replaced the receiver, turning towards her as he asked, ‘You got the rest of the files without any problems, then?’

Her stiff, ‘Yes, thank you,’ should have made it plain that any kind of conversation with him was the last thing she wanted, but he seemed unaware of her coldness, adding,

‘I’m just trying to snatch some lunch. I didn’t get time for anything to eat earlier.’

As Charlotte turned her back on him her face burned with indignation. Did he really think she was remotely interested in the way he and his…his client had spent their lunch-hour? She was tempted to make some derisory comment, but she reminded herself just in time that she was a mere employee, and one whose grip on her job was tenuous in the extreme.

She spent the rest of the afternoon reading through the first of the files and she was relieved when at half-past three Daniel closed the door between them, saying that he had a client interview.

‘Later, once you’ve acquainted yourself with the contents of the files, I shall of course expect you to sit in on any relevant interviews.’

To sit in on his interviews, but not to conduct any of her own, Charlotte thought balefully once the door was closed. Another indication of how little he trusted her professional judgement.

At four o’clock her office door opened and Richard Horwich came in.

‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here to welcome you this morning,’ he told her with a fatherly smile. ‘Unfortunately I was in court. I’m sure you’re settling in very well, though.’

‘Yes…Yes, thank you. I…I didn’t realise I would be working solely for Mr Jefferson.’

Richard raised his eyebrows a little at her formal ‘Mr’ but Charlotte noticed that he looked a little uncomfortable as he told her, ‘Yes, well…I…that is…With his increased work-load, we both felt that Daniel needed his own qualified assistant.’

It was just as she had suspected, Charlotte decided. The decision to make her Daniel Jefferson’s assistant had only been taken once Daniel had seen her CV and decided that she was not to be trusted to work on her own.

She wanted to protest that she was a qualified solicitor, not a child needing constant supervision, but she struggled to suppress the bitterness and resentment churning inside her, reminding herself of how much she needed to keep this job.

Richard had barely been gone for ten minutes when someone else knocked on Charlotte’s door.

The girl who came in was pretty and very pregnant. She smiled at Charlotte and introduced herself.

‘I’m Anne, Daniel’s secretary, and yours of course. I had a clinic appointment this morning.’ She patted her stomach and grimaced. ‘I’ll be glad when he or she eventually decides to arrive, I can tell you.’