Five Exotic Fantasies: Love in Reverse, Book 3 (3 page)

Rob gestured to an office on the far side and they crossed the workroom together. “Anything you want, she’s your first port of call. So you need to get on her good side, right?”

“And how do I do that?”

“Do as you’re told, don’t answer back, don’t make innuendo and don’t be cheeky.”

“Right.” Felix tried not to laugh. “Duly noted.” He wasn’t surprised, though. Most offices had a little Hitler who kept things running smoothly. They always looked the same: skinny and flat-chested with a face that looked like they’d been sucking lemons, a screechy voice and absolutely no sense of humour. Although Christopher’s description—and the lawyer’s subsequent reference to her figure—had suggested maybe Miss Stark was different. And she was only twenty-seven, not late forties or fifties as most office managers were. Interesting.

Rob paused outside the closed door that had
Miss V. Stark—Office Manager
on it. From inside came the distinct sound of someone being told off.

Rob pulled an
eek
face.

“Perhaps we should wait,” Felix suggested.

“Absolutely.”

Felix looked at the sign. “What does the V stand for?”

“Veronica,” said Rob. “But don’t call her that. She’s very formal.”

Felix raised an eyebrow, now thoroughly intrigued by the mysterious Miss Stark. He could hear her inside, chewing out what must be a younger secretary, judging by her tone.

“It’s not good enough,” she was saying. Her voice wasn’t screechy at all, Felix noted. It was quite low, almost husky, and sent little fingers sliding down his spine. “These are silly mistakes, which mean you’re not paying attention to your work. I know you’re capable of better.”

“Sorry, Miss Stark,” came the miserable voice of a young woman.

“Sorry’s not good enough. The original letter’s already gone to Mr. Hoyle for signing. Even if you’d made mistakes in your original shorthand, you should have had enough sense to transcribe them properly—it’s basic common sense.”

“Yes, Miss Stark.”

“I mean, honestly, Sam. Or do you really not know the difference between a P-A-W-N shop and a P-O-R-N shop?”

Felix’s eyes met Rob’s, and they both stifled a laugh.

“Yes…I do, Miss Stark,” stuttered the sorrowful Sam.

“Are you sure? Only you could’ve given our poor client a terrible reputation.”

“I’m really sorry, Miss Stark. It won’t happen again.”

“Good.”

Felix frowned. Hold on a minute. That voice rang a bell. It sounded like the girl from the coffee shop. He could distinctly remember the first words he’d heard her utter in that same husky voice
.
But that didn’t make sense. Rob had described her like a straight-laced, uptight frump, and the coffee-shop beauty had
not
looked—and most certainly hadn’t sounded—straight-laced.

“Are you practicing your shorthand every evening as I asked you to?” she continued. “Fifteen minutes while watching TV?”

“Um, yes, Miss Stark. Most nights.”

“
Every
night, Sam. Without fail. I expect you to be a hundred words a minute by the end of the year. I’ll be testing you myself.”

“Yes, Miss Stark.”

“Good. Off you go, then.”

The door opened, and Felix and Rob stepped aside as the young secretary scurried out looking suitably ashamed. They peered around the door into the large office.

Chapter Three

Felix got his first sight of the inimitable Miss Stark, and immediately realised he’d guessed right—she
was
the gorgeous chick from
Bella’s
.

Back then she’d been wearing a long raincoat and he hadn’t been able to get a good look at her figure, but the coat now hung on the back of the door, and he was able to peruse her at his leisure.

Tall in elegant black heels several inches high, she was slender but curvy, dressed in an extremely chic dark grey business suit, the skirt a respectable one inch above her knees, the white shirt with only two buttons open at the neck and no sign of any cleavage on show. Her blonde hair was still coiled in a tight bun, and her make-up was simple and understated, apart from her lips, which were now a dark red. She also now wore glasses with a modern rectangular frame, and her whole appearance spoke of professionalism and efficiency.

He could see why others might think her cold and reserved. But the red lipstick was a dead giveaway and corroborated her statement in the shop.
This woman
, he thought,
desperately wants to be kissed
. She was gorgeous, and from that moment, watching her standing by her desk with hands on hips and those luscious red lips pursed, Felix wanted her.

It was a pity that the absolute last thing he could indulge in considering his reason for being at the branch was an office affair.

Rob knocked on the door, timidly enough to make Felix bite his lip so he didn’t laugh.

She looked up at them over the top of her glasses. “Yes?” Her voice was crisp and said
Are you sure you want to bother me? I’m really not in a good mood.

Her eyes met Felix’s. They widened, and he was sure he heard her inhale sharply.

Rob said, “Sorry to interrupt you, Miss Stark, I know you’re very busy, but I thought I’d bring Felix Wilkinson along to meet you. I’ll leave you to it if that’s okay. I’ve got lots to do.” He winked at Felix and made a quick exit.

Felix watched him go before turning to see her studying him. She’d smothered her initial shock and replaced it with cool control.

“So you’re the infamous Mr. Wilkinson.” She beckoned him into the office and held out her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“And you’re the infamous Miss Stark,” he said. They shook hands. She had a firm grip, and up close he could see her eyes were a startling green behind her glasses. “Very nice to meet you—again,” he said, giving her a warm smile.

“Hmm.” She didn’t return the compliment, or the smile. “Please sit.”

Felix lowered himself to the other seat in front of the desk, noting with amusement that she didn’t join him but perched on the edge of her desk, looking down at him. A position to intimidate. Clearly she was going to pretend their previous meeting—and her unfortunate admission to her friend—hadn’t happened. Leaning back in his seat, he rested an ankle on the opposite knee and linked his fingers, adopting the most un-confrontational pose he could.

“I’m the office manager,” she said, “and—”

“Yes,” Felix interrupted, “I hear congratulations are in order.”

She blinked. “Thank you.” The icy stare said
Don’t interrupt me again.
“Anyway, as I was saying, I’m in charge of those who aren’t lawyers here—the word processor operators and the legal secretaries, the librarians and service clerks and all the other litigation support staff. If you need something done, you come to me first, understand? I know everyone’s workload and everyone’s skills, and I can assign you the best person for the job.”

Felix nodded. “Understood.”

“In a minute I’ll show you where you put your general files for the typing pool, but I’ll probably be assigning you your own secretaries as you’re working on a special case.”

Had he imagined it, or had there been an underlying hint of sarcasm on the word
special
? “Okay.”

“Do you prefer a secretary with shorthand skills or do you use a digital recorder?”

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d given dictation to a shorthand secretary. He really had travelled back forty years. Next thing she’d be asking him if he wanted a cigar. “I’m used to digital.”

She nodded sharply. “Okay. I’ll give you the abridged version of the general tour in a minute as you’re only going to be here temporarily.”

Okay, so now he definitely wasn’t imagining it. She was annoyed with him, and he’d only just walked through the door. Was that because of their previous meeting? Because he’d seen behind the icy facade she wore in the office? “Sure,” he said easily.

She crossed her arms. “Lastly, while you’re here you should know that I expect a certain level of behaviour from lawyers in the Wellington branch.”

His eyebrows rose. “Oh?”

“Yes. There are a lot of young women here, both in the typing pool and throughout the rest of the office. I’m not stupid—I know relationships occur in the workplace, but I expect them to be discreet, and I expect you to use your common sense. I do
not
expect to come into work to find half a dozen twenty-somethings crying over their keyboards because you haven’t returned their phone calls.”

His eyebrows stayed somewhere around his hairline. “I see. I feel I should point out that it would be a bit crass to have an office affair considering I’m here to investigate allegations of sexual harassment.”

She fixed him with her steely stare. “You may be a hotshot at the Auckland branch, Mr. Wilkinson, but while you’re here in my office, I’m top dog. Got it?”

Felix met her green-eyed gaze and nodded. “You like to be on top. Check.”

The words were out before he could stop himself, and he nearly groaned out loud.
Great, Felix. Sexual innuendo. Didn’t you just mention you’re here to investigate sexual harassment?

There was a stony silence for a good ten seconds.

She stared at Felix with a look that could have frozen lava, and then, very slowly, ran her gaze down to his feet and slowly back up, taking in every inch of his appearance. Felix bore the appraisal, knowing he’d deserved it, but couldn’t resist doing the same to her. He admired her sexy high heels, slim calves and narrow waist, checked the hands that rested on her arms for a wedding ring, but didn’t find one—and his gaze lingered on her generous, pert breasts before meeting her eyes again.

For the first time, a hint of smile curved her lips. “Are you going to be trouble?” she asked softly, tipping her head slightly at him.

Seeing the smile, he opted for humour. “I sincerely hope so.”

To her credit, she gave a short, sharp laugh, pushed herself off her desk and walked to the other side to shuffle some papers. “I’ll show you around the office. Do you have any questions so far, Mr. Wilkinson?”

He got to his feet. “Yes, quite a few, but let’s start with: what shall I call you?”

She glanced up at him over her the top of her glasses, a look he found so sexy that, if the door hadn’t been open, he might have pushed her up against the desk and kissed her senseless. “Miss Stark will do just fine, thank you.”

“I can’t call you Veronica?”

“Nobody calls me Veronica.”

He frowned at that, watching her tidy her desk and lean forward on it to check her emails. In spite of the fact that her white shirt was buttoned well above her cleavage, from his high vantage point he got a splendid view of her breasts encased in white lacy half-cups.
Nice
, he thought, before politely averting his gaze.

The phone on her desk rang, and she said, “Excuse me,” before answering it. She listened for a moment then walked over to a filing cabinet and pulled out a manila file. Her back to him, she balanced it on top of the drawer and started to flip through it as she discussed the contents with the caller.

Felix took a few steps to the side of her desk and perused the items. At the edge nearest to him, she had a photograph in a frame, and he picked it up and scanned it quickly. It was of her with an older woman in a wheelchair. Her mother? The office manager’s hair hung around her shoulders in golden waves, which made her look younger and softer. And he could just see that around her neck, she was wearing a gold chain with a word hanging from it. It said
Coco
.

Hmm.

He put the photo down and checked the rest of the desk. There were no little knickknacks that would suggest she was in a relationship, no small cuddly toys or love hearts or photos of a guy looking fondly at the camera. He walked back to the centre of the room and waited for her to finish her call. She hung up the phone. “Sorry about that.”

“No worries.”

She looked blank briefly. “What were we talking about?”

“You asked me if I have any questions.”

“Oh. Yes. Do you?”

“Yes. Why did I annoy you as soon as I walked in the room?”

She met his gaze, looking amused. “To be honest, you annoyed me before you got here.”

“Because of the coffee shop?”

“Before then, actually.”

“Wow. It takes some doing to annoy someone
before
they’ve even met you.”

Her mouth twitched. “I’m not too fond of JAFAs.”

“Just Another…Flipping Aucklander?” He smiled. “Actually I was born in the Bay of Islands. But I get your point. I must say, I’m not too fond of Wellington myself. Far too windy.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Well, you know what they say—Wellington blows, but Auckland sucks.”

He laughed at that. After unbuttoning his jacket, not missing the way her eyes dipped to follow his movement, he slid his hands into the pockets of his pants and said, “Now, why don’t you tell me the real reason I got up your nose before I even arrived here?”

Her eyes lifted to his and surveyed him coolly. “What makes you think that wasn’t the real reason?”