Читать книгу In Bed With The Boss - Susan Napier, Susan Napier - Страница 4

‘WHAT in the hell is this?’

In spite of the fact that she had been conducting a mental countdown, Kalera Martin still jumped as the door to the adjoining office crashed back against the wall, sending a concussive shock vibrating around the room.

She sat straight in her swivel chair, her hands involuntarily pressing down on the stack of folders which she was in the process of sorting into neat piles on her orderly desk.

The man standing in the doorway waving a sheet of paper in his clenched fist looked anything but orderly. The expensive, custom-made clothes could not subdue the sheer physicality of his adrenaline-charged personality. Even in an uncharacteristically conservative pinpoint oxford shirt, navy trousers, dark blue silk tie and navy braces, Duncan Royal managed to look more like a menacing street thug than the owner of a multi-million-dollar high-tech company. He was intimidatingly tall and broad and, when the brilliance of his argument failed to get him his own way, was not above shamelessly using his impressive size as an added negotiating tool, browbeating stubborn opponents into changing their minds in order to stay on his good side.

Right now his good side was nowhere in evidence. The killer good looks were marred by a fierce scowl, the jet-black hair which was usually raked sleekly back behind his ears tumbled across his thunderous brow, outrage pouring off him in aggressive waves as he glared across the room at the slender, dainty woman behind the desk.

On the off chance that he hadn’t yet reached the bottom of his morning mail Kalera raised her finely arched eyebrows in cautious enquiry.

‘I don’t know—what is it?’ she asked in the deep, husky voice that always surprised people, coming as it did from such a small frame.

‘You tell me!’ he snarled, storming over to throw the offending paper down in front of her with a furious flick of his powerful wrist.

Kalera caught the page before it wafted to the floor and smoothed it out with fingers that she was relieved to note didn’t tremble at all.

‘Well?’ He loomed over her accusingly.

She cleared her throat and looked up, her cool grey eyes clashing with his incendiary gaze.

‘It’s my letter of resignation—’

He made a harsh, growling sound in the back of his throat. ‘I know what it is—’

‘Well, then, why did you ask?’ she dared to ask mildly. ‘I would have thought it was self-explanatory.’

She held the letter out to him but he ignored it, bending abruptly to plant his lean, manicured hands flat on the edge of her desk, thrusting his face towards her, giving her a close-up view of the shock, rage and disbelief seething in the midnight-blue eyes.

‘Then you thought wrong!’

Kalera watched, fascinated, as the small nerve which fluttered at the corner of his narrow mouth was compressed by the clenching of muscles along his rigid jaw. She felt pummelled by the force of his concentrated psychic energy.

This was a first.

In the three years that she had worked at Labyrinth Technology as his secretary Kalera had frequently witnessed Duncan Royal explode, but she had never been the direct target of one of his infamous fiery tantrums.

Perhaps it was because her delicate build made him overtly aware of his own vastly superior size and strength, or perhaps it was the dampening effect of her cool serenity in the face of emotional scenes, but on the rare occasions that Kalera had slipped up and given him just cause to display his volatile temperament he had chosen to vent his spleen on the inanimate objects around him rather than on her remorseful blonde head.

To her certain knowledge this transference of his hostility had so far cost the company a pot plant, a cell-phone, two coffee cups, a pen-holder and a terse lecture from a fire safety officer after Duncan had dramatically set fire to one of Kalera’s memos, causing a minor conflagration in his waste-paper basket which set off the smoke alarms and led to the evacuation of the entire building.

‘Well?’

He lunged closer, his eyes snapping with impatience, and Kalera leaned back in her chair in a vain attempt to distance herself from his angry aura. ‘Uh…which part don’t you understand?’ she murmured, wincing inwardly at the lame response. It bore no resemblance to the crisp, assertive statements which she had rehearsed in front of her mirror that morning. She hated scenes and had been hoping that her carefully worded letter would soothe rather than inflame, diplomatically preparing the way for her more daunting confession.

Alas, her temperamental boss thrived on confrontations. Full and forceful frankness was his preferred operating style and a civilised conversation was clearly not on this morning’s agenda.

‘Every damned part! The whole thing is incomprehensible!’ Duncan Royal was used to understanding instantly complex equations, concepts and problems, both real and abstract. The brilliance of his intellect usually put him in control of his environment. He didn’t like being reduced to common human bewilderment.

Kalera screwed up her courage. ‘Well, I—’

‘Two paragraphs!’ he interrupted, his deep, rasping voice fierce with indignation as his big shoulders shifted and he stabbed at the offending letter with a vicious forefinger. ‘Damn you, Kalera, after all this time is that all you consider I deserve? Two measly paragraphs to tell me that one of my most trusted employees is walking out on me!’

Kalera nervously tucked a stray strand of sun-streaked blonde hair back into the smooth sweep of the elegant French roll she wore to work. Her narrow oval face, which Harry had been fond of telling her reminded him of that of a Madonna in a medieval painting—smooth, serene, mysterious—revealed nothing of her clammy apprehension.

She knew how much personal loyalty meant to Duncan Royal; it was the rock on which he had founded his enormous success. The computer industry was a cut-throat business in which paranoia ran rife. Duncan had made a fortune out of developing software products that caught larger competitors napping and an essential part of his strategy was to personally hand-pick his employees—right down to the office cleaners! Nothing was contracted out, except to other branches of his business. As a result he had gathered around him a group of extremely dedicated and ambitious men and women who were richly rewarded for their total commitment to their brilliant but eccentric leader.

Prepared as she had been for an objection to her decision to resign, Kalera was taken aback by the violence of Duncan’s reaction. She knew that she was good at her job because he was as quick to praise as he was to anger, but she was hardly irreplaceable. It wasn’t as if she was one of his resident computer geniuses, or in any way unique in her organisational skills; she was simply a useful cog in his administrative machine.

Surely he couldn’t already know…?

‘You make it sound as if I’m quitting without notice,’ she protested. ‘But I’m not leaving you in the lurch—I did say I’m quite happy to work out the four weeks stated in my contract—’

‘Damn your contract; you know that’s not what I’m talking about!’ he thundered.

She stiffened. Just because she disliked scenes, that didn’t mean she was afraid to stand up for herself. ‘There’s no need to shout, Duncan,’ she said coldly. ‘I’m not deaf—’

‘No, just dumb!’ He slammed a frustrated fist on the desk with a force that rattled her computer keyboard.

‘If I’m that stupid then you should be pleased to see me go,’ she snapped, guiltily aware that her offer to work her notice was merely a token gesture. Once he found out the truth, Duncan wouldn’t want her within a mile of his hallowed domain.

‘Not that sort of dumb!’ He started to pace. ‘You couldn’t talk this over with me first? What…am I so inaccessible…so impossible to talk to that you couldn’t even bring yourself to mention that you were thinking of leaving?’

He stopped in front of her desk again, his arms shooting out wide as his incredulous tone denounced the sheer ridiculousness of the notion. He had an open-door policy towards his staff and most of them took full advantage of the opportunity to express their opinions and ideas freely.

Kalera’s thick lashes swept down to conceal the expression in her soft grey eyes as she concentrated on folding and re-folding the edge of the letter. ‘I’m sorry…but, after all, it was my decision to make. It had nothing to do with you—’

She realised as soon as the words were out of her mouth that she had made a tactical error.

‘Are you trying to tell me that it’s none of my business when an employee quits out of the blue, without even bothering to give a reason?’ Duncan exploded afresh. ‘No, dammit, not just an employee—a friend, Kalera…’

A wave of fresh guilt swept over her as a dark-complexioned face framed by a profusion of short Rasta braids and beads suddenly popped around the open door that was the main entrance to Kalera’s office.

‘Hey, girl, what’s all this racket—? Oh, hi, Chief, I should have known it would be you…From the sound of it, I thought Kalera had a pack of Rottweilers loose in here!’

Duncan glared at his young assistant’s irreverent grin. ‘Do you mind, Anna? You’re interrupting a private conversation.’

‘Oh, really?’ Anna Ihaka advanced into the doorway, her coffee-coloured eyes darting eagerly from one to the other. ‘What about?’

‘I’ll tell you later,’ said Kalera hurriedly, hearing Duncan’s breath rattle ominously in his throat.

‘Oh, OK—give me a buzz when he’s finished his rant and I’ll bring you a cup of coffee.’ Anna was incurably cheerful and totally unsquashable, the perfect assistant for a man who, in a bad mood, was the Sultan of Squash.

‘I’ll just close this door for you on my way out, then, shall I, Chief?’ she added sweetly. ‘Only, we can hear the punctuation marks in your private conversation all over the floor, you see, and it’s a bit off-putting for poor Bryan who’s trying to give a demo and impress some very snooty clients with our discretion.’ She snicked the door smartly shut before he could get in the last word.

‘I’m going to wring that girl’s neck one of these days,’ growled Duncan, and saw the expression on Kalera’s face. ‘What have you got to smirk about?’

Kalera hastily straightened the wayward corners of her mouth. She had obviously handled this all wrong, but perhaps it wasn’t too late to amend her error. ‘Look, there’s a very good reason for my wanting to leave—’ she began huskily.

‘Really? Did I miss something?’ He leaned over and plucked the letter out of her fidgeting fingers, unravelling the folds and reading from it with a deadly sarcasm which mocked the stark formality of the words:

“‘I have enjoyed my term of employment with Labyrinth Technology—” Huh!’ His snort was eloquent with contempt for her flattering opening. “‘But due to a change in my personal circumstances I regret to inform you that I wish to tender my resignation with such notice as required under the terms of my contract.” Change in personal circumstances?’ he lowered the page to repeat furiously. ‘What in the hell is that supposed to mean?’

Kalera moistened her suddenly dry lips with a little flick of her tongue. Was it better to blurt it out, or lead up to it gently? She was no longer certain.

While she hesitated, Duncan was already darting ahead with his customary impatience.

‘You can’t have got a better job,’ he decided with arrogant confidence. ‘This one is tailor-made for your talents—after all, you virtually designed it yourself when you came to work for me. You’re much more than just a secretary; you manage the whole office. You’ve always seemed to enjoy working with me. Is it the money? Have you decided I don’t pay you enough?’

The question was absurd. Duncan might be possessive about his ideas, but he was notoriously over-generous with money. He drove his accountants mad with his insistence on sharing his profits with his employees via bonuses, gifts and royalty percentages on software which they had helped to develop. So well did he treat his workers that no competitor had yet succeeded in bribing or head-hunting away a Labyrinth employee.

‘Yes, of course you do. But I—’

‘Aren’t you happy here?’

If he stopped peppering her with questions she might be able to get out a satisfactory answer. ‘I’ve been very happy here, but—’

‘But! But what?’ he cut in roughly. ‘But you’re not now? Why? Is there some problem you haven’t been telling me about? Your working conditions and environment haven’t changed, so what else could it be?’ His lightning-fast brain sorted through the possible options and his eyes suddenly narrowed threateningly. ‘Has someone been harassing you?’

She was bewildered by his sudden change in tack. ‘Harassing me?’

‘Sexually. Making suggestive remarks, brushing up against you, touching you, that kind of thing—making you feel unsafe at work?’

Her mouth opened and closed and she flushed with mortification.

He pounced. ‘My God, that’s it, isn’t it?’ He rounded the desk and swivelled her chair to face him, ignoring her squeak of surprise as he crouched in front of her and picked her limp left hand out of her lap.

‘Who is it?’ He sandwiched her hand between his smooth, warm palms and lowered his voice coaxingly. ‘Did he threaten you in some way? Tell me, Kalera, and no matter who it turns out to be I’ll sort the bastard out. I’ll fire him so fast his feet won’t touch the ground!’

His dark blue eyes roved down over her figure, inspecting the soft draping of her lemon silk blouse and narrow green linen skirt as if he somehow expected to see the culprit’s fingerprints emblazoned on the fabric. There was something almost possessive about the protective survey and a wave of unwelcome warmth swept over Kalera’s skin as his frowning gaze skimmed over the firm thrust of her small breasts. She sternly smothered a little thrill of illicit awareness with the ease of long practice and took a huffing breath.

‘For goodness’ sake, Duncan, will you shut up and let me explain? I’m not being harassed!’ She tried to tug her hand from his but he wouldn’t let her go.

‘Then why are you blushing?’

‘Because I’m embarrassed that you could think I wouldn’t know how to handle a simple case of sexual harassment by myself.’

He scowled, his thumb absently rubbing over her captured fingers. ‘You shouldn’t have to handle it on your own; that’s the point.’

‘Well, it’s a moot point because, as I said, no one’s harassing me—’ She stopped, disconcerted, as his expression froze into shocked stillness.

Did he think she was lying? Goodness, surely he didn’t really believe that Kalera was so irresistibly alluring that she must inevitably be the target of sexual predators! Although she was passably attractive she wasn’t the type of woman to drive men to extremes. When she refused to respond to their overtures they typically backed off with a shrug. And at work, taking the lead from their boss, the males had always treated her with a friendliness tempered by respect.

She frowned as she reached the only logical reason for him to jump to such a ridiculous conclusion. ‘Why are you asking me this—have you received a complaint about someone in the office?’

Duncan wasn’t listening. His head had snapped down and he was staring at the bare fingers of her left hand.

‘You’ve taken off your wedding and engagement rings!’ His voice was hoarse with disbelief as his thumb probed the smooth, slightly shiny white band of flesh which contrasted with the light tan of the rest of her hand. His normally mobile and expressive features retained their frozen blankness as he demanded, ‘Why aren’t you wearing Harry’s rings?’

Kalera’s newly exposed skin was proving to be uncomfortably sensitive and the light rasping of the pad of Duncan’s thumb against the tiny indentations in her finger sent a feathery tingle shooting up her arm.

‘They’re in my drawer at home…I thought—it was time to put them away,’ she stumbled, her fingers curling into her palm, forming a small fist that silently rejected the disturbing nature of his touch.

He withdrew it instantly, but instead of rising to his feet he rocked slightly back on the balls of his feet, his bent knees brushing the sides of her calves as he steadied himself by placing his hands on the arms of her chair. His rigid expression thawed, a dark emotion flaring in the navy eyes as he looked up into her flushed face.

‘Past time,’ he agreed, and the hint of satisfaction in his tone made her stiffen defensively, twisting her hands in her lap.

‘I’ll never forget Harry—’

‘Of course you won’t. But he died two years ago…you didn’t,’ he said with his usual devastating bluntness. ‘You have nothing to feel uneasy about, Kalera. You honoured his memory with a decent period of mourning…’ His voice softened. ‘You honoured both of them. Now you’re obviously ready to move on—to start looking at all the opportunities life has to offer a woman of today.’

His mouth curved into an approving smile. It was the perfect opening and she eagerly snatched it.

‘I’m glad you think so, because that’s exactly what’s happened,’ she said, taking a deep breath before she announced, ‘I got engaged last night.’

‘You what?’ He was still smiling—that faint, whimsical, sexy crook of his lips that had women toppling for him like ninepins—and Kalera could see him thinking that he had obviously misheard.

‘Last night…someone I’ve been seeing…I—he asked me to marry him…’

She faltered to a stop as she was witness to a sight unique in her experience: Duncan Royal stunned speechless. He looked like a man who had been hit over the head with a mallet. His quizzical smile vanished and his jaw sagged. His mouth opened and closed but the only sound that came out was a breathy wheeze. His olive complexion paled, accentuating the twin crescents of darker skin curving below the inner corners of his eyes and making him look as haggard as he was handsome. If it hadn’t been for his anchoring grip on her chair Kalera got the distinct impression that he would have toppled on his backside on the carpet.

He was, quite literally, floored!

In any other circumstances Kalera would have been highly amused. Duncan enjoyed jolting people out of their complacency and dropping verbal bombshells was one of his favourite methods of hijacking conversations. To turn the tables on him so effectively was quite a considerable feat. But she knew the peaceful state of suspended animation would not last very long.

‘We went out to dinner and he asked me to marry him and I said yes,’ she expanded hastily, hoping to stave off the barrage of questions she could see forming in his eyes. ‘So when I got home I took my old rings off. I can’t very well wear them when I’m engaged to someone else…although maybe I’ll wear the solitaire as a dress ring later, when—after we’re married…’

Duncan’s unblinking gaze moved down to her slender right hand, curled protectively at her waist, and she realised that he was seeking concrete proof of her claim.

‘I haven’t got a new engagement ring yet because we’re going to choose it together—tonight after work, as a matter of fact…’

Duncan shook his head once, violently, like a seasoned fighter emerging from a standing count. For once his intellect was lagging far behind the pace as he said slowly, ‘You’ve been seeing someone else?’

Kalera’s shoulders twitched in an awkward shrug. ‘As you just pointed out, Harry’s been gone two years now—’

‘You’ve been seeing another man?’

And to think Kalera had always felt inferior to his towering intellect! She couldn’t stop a bubble of nervous laughter escaping her throat. ‘Well, I certainly haven’t been dating other women. Besides, same-sex marriages are illegal, so there wouldn’t be much point in my becoming engaged to—’

Her feeble joke didn’t even bring a glimmer of humour to his expression. If anything it seemed to stoke his outrage.

‘You’ve been dating?’ He shoved her chair so it skidded back on its casters and stood up, fists planted on his lean hips. ‘Just how long has this been going on?’

‘A few months,’ she confessed, although in practical terms it had actually been much less than that.

His dark brows snapped together. ‘A few months! You’ve been seeing other men for months without even mentioning it?’

He made it sound as if she had been living a secret life of rampant promiscuity. One minute he was urging her to get over losing Harry, the next he was making her feel guilty for pre-empting his advice.

‘Not men,’ she protested, flushed with a mixture of guilt and indignance. ‘A man. Singular. And, well, it all started so casually there wasn’t really anything to mention…and, anyway, why should I? You don’t talk to me about the women that you date!’

‘That’s because—’ He broke off, and his eyes narrowed on her pink face. ‘No, I don’t, but that doesn’t prevent you knowing about them, does it? You field my calls, open my mail and have access to my diary and hard drive, and what you don’t know I’m sure the grapevine provides—this place is a hotbed of internal gossip and the network bulletin board seems to keep well up to date with jokes about my social life. I bet you end up knowing the women in my life better than I do!’

‘I doubt it,’ murmured Kalera sardonically, thinking of the progression of Body Beautifuls who had been photographed hanging on his arm, although, given Duncan’s legendary restlessness and the average tenure of his girlfriends, the idea wasn’t entirely far-fetched.

‘Oh, I didn’t mean in the carnal sense,’ he said, his gravelly voice outrageousness in its blandness as he segued smoothly into his interrogation. ‘So, who is he, then? This wonderful man who so casually infiltrated your life that he wasn’t worth mentioning to your friends?’ His expression hardened. ‘Or am I just the last to find out?’

Kalera shook her head. Unable to bear the inactivity, she pretended to straighten things on her desk. ‘No, I haven’t talked about him to anyone. It’s—rather awkward…’

He perched his hip on the edge of her desk, propping an elbow on the top of her VDU, the dark, pin-striped fabric of his trousers pulling taut across his long, muscular thigh as he absently hitched his polished heel onto the handle of her file drawer.

‘Why? Is he already married?’

She almost choked on her appalled gasp. ‘No!’

‘Divorced? Children kicking up a stink about Dad’s new girlfriend? No? Maybe you’re ashamed of him,’ he speculated, seeming to relish the idea. ‘Is he some kind of sleazy low-life you’re embarrassed to be seen with in public?’

Kalera knocked over the pen-holder she was needlessly repositioning. ‘No! Of course not,’ she denied, concentrating fiercely on rearranging the pens. ‘He’s very well-educated and successful. He has his own company…’

She waited for him to ask what line of business her new fiancé was in, but Duncan proved infuriatingly uncooperative.

‘So…he’s rich, then?’ he drawled, with the hint of a sneer.

He was purposely being provoking and Kalera was determined not to be provoked. ‘Yes.’

‘Good-looking?’

‘Very.’

‘Intelligent?’

‘Extremely.’

‘Good in bed?’

She didn’t miss a beat. ‘Scintillating.’

He opened his mouth and her patience deserted her as she added tartly, ‘He’s also kind, generous, fond of young children and animals and good to his mother.’

He pursed his lips and looked patronisingly sceptical. ‘Not cut the apron-springs yet? Is he much younger than you?’

‘Since I’m only twenty-seven, how much younger could he be?’ she snapped, bristling at the idea that she was the victim of a feminine mid-life crisis. ‘He’s not some smooth-talking gigolo or toy-boy if that’s what you’re implying. He happens to be in the prime of his life!’

‘What an interesting euphemism,’ he needled slyly, enjoying her small flare of temper. ‘I guess that means he’s more the sugar-daddy type.’

She sucked in her breath. ‘As a matter of fact, he’s exactly your age.’

His eyelids flickered. ‘He sounds exactly like me in every respect so far. Is this your coyly euphemistic way of telling me you’re panting with unrequited love for me?’

Her grey eyes flashed silver and she forgot she was supposed to be placating him. ‘You’re the last man on earth I’d want to fall in love with,’ she cried, her hands bunching into fists on top of her desk as she struggled with an uncharacteristic desire to break things. ‘My God, you are so arrogant!’

He shrugged, acknowledging the accusation with an insufferable grin of bone-deep confidence. The annoying thing was that his arrogance was largely justified; he seemed destined to excel at whatever he did. He joked about being a computer nerd but he was a far cry from the introverted, pasty-faced, pigeon-chested, techno-freak of popular misconception. At thirty-four Duncan kept himself at a peak of physical fitness in the company gym, and played cut-throat games of squash at a city club, smashing stronger opposition with his erratic brilliance and aggressive will to win.

‘Comes with the territory,’ he murmured. ‘You know—mid-thirties, good-looking, clever, stinking rich, kind to children and animals…’ His voice dropped an octave to a sexy purr that ruffled the nerves all the way up and down her spine. ‘Not to mention sizzling in bed. Tell me, Kalera, what has your mystery man got that I haven’t?’

She had said scintillating, not sizzling, but he had substituted the word deliberately. Sizzling had an altogether different connotation. Oh, yes, she could well believe that Duncan Royal could burn up the sheets when he was in the mood.

‘Humility!’ Kalera’s face glowed with a very un-Madonna-like spite as he winced.

‘Ouch!’ He tried to look humble and failed miserably. ‘Whoever he is he sounds far too good to be true.’

‘Well, he isn’t.’

The ring of sincerity in her voice made the teasing malice die out of his expression and he regarded her over the top of her computer, his dark brows lowered, overshadowing his brooding eyes, his square jaw tense.

‘He does exist, then? He’s not just a figment of your wishful imagination?’

‘Of course he exists!’ she said firmly. ‘I wouldn’t be resigning from my job if he didn’t!’

His chin clipped up as if she had hit him. ‘Wait a minute; is that the only reason you’re resigning—because you’re getting married?’

‘Staying on isn’t really an option…’ she began carefully.

He slid off the desk. ‘What?’ He was genuinely outraged. ‘You’re giving up a job you love because this paragon of yours doesn’t want his wife to work? What is this—the Dark Ages? Why didn’t you tell the Neanderthal where to get off?’

‘Because it’s not like that—’

‘What is it like, then? Are you planning to move away, is that it? Doesn’t he live in Auckland?’

‘Yes, he does, but—’

His brain was already fast-forwarding to other possibilities. He was piecing together her unease, her embarrassment and unaccustomed reluctance to get to the point. He blanched. ‘Are you pregnant?’

His eyes bored into her flat stomach with an intensity that suggested he had X-ray vision. Kalera felt a tightening in her womb as she was swamped by a sense of intimate invasion. Instinctively she flattened a protective hand over her abdomen and something dark and dangerous smouldered to life in the piercing navy eyes.

‘Did you and your lover get careless? Is that the reason for this indecent rush to the altar? You know, illegitimacy doesn’t carry the stigma it used to—’

That was going too far, even for Duncan. Kalera leapt to her feet, her slight body vibrating like a tuning fork as she matched his outrage. ‘For goodness’ sake, what rush? We haven’t even discussed a wedding date yet!’ she yelled. ‘We’ve only just got engaged. Of course I’m not pregnant. Do you know how insulting you are? Believe it or not Stephen wants to marry me; he’s not doing it out of duty or necessity or because he’s been trapped into retrieving my soiled honour. If you’d stop trying to cram words into my mouth you might have time to listen to what I have to say!’

He fell back a pace, colour streaking back into his startled expression. Just as Duncan was famous for his temper, Kalera was renowned for her serene composure. She rarely raised her voice but when she did she used her diaphragm properly, as she had been taught during singing lessons as a child, and her normally warm, husky tones could project a shout of booming authority.

Still, it wasn’t in Duncan’s nature to be confounded for long. ‘So…at last the mystery man has a name,’ he shot back. ‘What’s the rest of it? Is he anyone I’d know?’

Kalera put her hands behind her back, squaring her shoulders proudly. ‘Actually, yes. And knowing who it is you’ll understand why I have to resign. The man I’m marrying is Stephen Prior,’ she announced.

And ducked as Duncan Royal went ballistic.