One-Click Buy: November Harlequin Presents (119 page)

‘If the plans for the hotel go through—' Cryssie began, and he interrupted again.

‘Oh, they'll go through,' he said at once, and Cryssie shot him a quick glance. Of course they would—if Mr Jeremy Hunter said so! ‘The hotel will be up and running on this site in eighteen months—or less, if I get my way.'

You'll get your way, Cryssie thought. Mr Unstoppable!

But he was right about the most important thing in all this, and her common sense prevailed. She knew that for Polly and Milo's sake she couldn't refuse this once-in-a-lifetime offer. But she still could not fathom why
she
was his choice of personal assistant. There must be many whom he'd be proud to be
seen
with, who could provide exactly what he needed. Finally, she turned to look up at him, her mouth firm.

‘Then…I accept your offer,' she said, in a tone of regret, and she watched the slow smile of conquest cross his elegant features. And that irritated her, because she knew that he had won.

‘Thank you, Crystal…Cryssie!' he amended quickly. ‘You won't regret it.'

‘I sincerely hope not,' she said pertly. She hesitated. ‘I'd better go, or Rose will wonder what on earth you had to say to me.'

Turning, she walked swiftly across the room and threw open the door—to find Rose standing there, transfixed, with a look of total incredulity on her face. A massive wave of horror swept over Cryssie as she realised that the woman must have been outside all the time. Help! She might easily have witnessed the physical encounter between her and Jed through the partially glazed door panel!

‘What the
hell
was all that about?' the woman said. ‘I couldn't quite catch all of it, but I saw…Did he
force
himself on you?'

‘Well, hardly,' Cryssie denied, closing the door behind her. ‘And what you saw was anger, Rose—total, uncontrollable anger.'

‘What do you mean? What at?'

‘Oh—at something I said,' Cryssie said quickly. ‘I was totally out of order, and he couldn't take it. It was
too
much, coming from someone like me! What you saw was the typical reaction of some men when they're infuriated. They show their annoyance in that way to regain their self-belief. It's a male thing,' she added. ‘He sort of pushed into me—pushed me away—that's all,' Cryssie went on, hoping that all this was making sense.

‘It looked a bit more than that to me,' Rose said, throwing Cryssie a shrewd look. ‘And if you want to take it further I'll be your witness!'

‘It won't come to that,' Cryssie said at once. ‘I don't hold with going to law at every opportunity. Anyway, it wasn't anything that would stand up in court.' She hesitated. ‘Don't worry about me, Rose. I can look after myself.'

As she drove the couple of miles home, Cryssie's mind was in utter turmoil. Giving in her notice, and then being offered an unbelievable opportunity all in one brief hour was almost too much to take in. To say nothing of having felt herself engulfed in the heated, muscular embrace of her new boss!

Pausing at the lights, she glanced briefly at her troubled face in the mirror and heaved a long sigh. A sigh of unexpected regret. Because everything she'd tried to explain to Rose was actually a fact. She knew only too well that Jed's strong, passionate mouth on hers, the contours of his body melding with her own, had been exactly what she'd said it was: the result of his irrepressible anger. Nothing more and nothing less. And, despite all her good intentions, she knew that she was, once again, falling for a man she wanted to despise!

A
T THE
end of the following day, the news was broken to the rest of the staff. Standing in Jed's office, everyone listened with unbelieving ears as he spelt out his plans for Hydebound, his awesome presence stopping anyone from asking too many questions. As always, he was entirely in control. Cryssie kept her head down, her heart fluttering uncomfortably.

He left abruptly, and back in their own room, after several minutes of Rose giving her thoughts on the matter an airing, Cryssie said, ‘It's unbelievable, Rose, and all that's given me a splitting headache. I'm going home early—do you mind locking everything up?'

Later that evening, after she'd put Milo to bed, Cryssie changed into her navy tracksuit and loosened her hair. She flopped down on the chair opposite Polly and, glancing at her sister, thought for the millionth time what a beautiful girl she was, with her long auburn tresses shining as usual, because despite her emotional problems, Polly took good care of her appearance. And her apparent frailty seemed to give her a certain allure, her large grey eyes always seeming too big for her face.

At around nine o'clock, Polly stretched and sighed, and glanced at the clock. ‘I think I'll go on up, Cryssie.' She yawned, and Cryssie thought, Please don't tell me you've had a tiring day!

‘I shan't be long either, Poll—I'll see if I can finish this crossword first. I can't bear to let it beat me.'

At that moment there was a discreet tap on the front door, and the girls looked at each other in surprise.

‘Who on earth can that be?' Polly said, not attempting to get up. ‘We don't get visitors.'

Cryssie got to her feet at once. ‘There's only one way to find out,' she said. Leaving the safety chain in place, she opened the front door cautiously, peering through the restricted space, and gave an audible gasp as she looked up into the black, black eyes which seemed to dominate all areas of her life!

‘Oh, J—Mr. Hunter…' she said, feeling her face burn with embarrassment and shocked surprise. ‘What…is there something wrong?' Even her voice didn't sound like hers!

‘No, no—nothing's wrong,' he said, in a tone which suggested that he thought it perfectly normal to visit a member of staff at this hour, and without warning! ‘Cryssie…can you spare me a few moments?'

Cryssie's heart was hammering. What on earth was
this
all about now? Surely there was nothing more that could happen today?

‘Of course.' She slid the chain off and opened the door. ‘Come in,' she said, thinking wildly that their humble dwelling was not exactly the kind of place he would ever expect to set foot in, especially with the detritus of the day—discarded newspapers, toys still in evidence everywhere—littering the room.

As he entered, Polly got up from her lying-down position on the sofa and stared straight up into Jed's face—and her own was a picture! Cryssie's eyes flitted rapidly from one to the other, and she saw immediately the effect this handsome stranger was having on her susceptible sister.
Oh, no, don't come on to him, please, Poll! It won't work!
But what did
she
know? Because Jed's gaze had taken in Polly in one perceptive moment—the slight figure in tight jeans and flattering loose cream top, her hair draped carelessly over one shoulder, the haunted eyes glistening with interest. She was a desirable woman by any standards, and Cryssie knew it only too well. But in their restricted lives they never usually came across any man who would ignite Polly's inborn lust for male attention.

Clearing her throat, Cryssie said, ‘Mr Hunter, this is my sister Polly…Poll, this is my employer, Mr. Hunter, who's just bought Hydebound. As I told you after Christmas.'

Polly slid herself gracefully off the sofa to greet the man, who took her small hand in his and looked down at her. ‘I'm sorry to disturb you this late,' he said apologetically, and Cryssie detected the transparent admiration in his eyes.

Polly was working her old magic, she thought. And Polly was doing her own assessing, clearly bowled over by the man's penetrating black eyes, the uncompromising mouth and brilliant white teeth. He was wearing well-cut trousers, as usual, with an open-neck shirt and fashionable suede jacket.

He turned to Cryssie, who went crimson as their eyes met. She was only too aware that her own appearance was hardly eye-catching—the loose-bottomed tracksuit having seen better days and nothing on her feet, her tousled unbrushed hair hanging untidily around her slight shoulders. Then she forced herself to control her thoughts. This wasn't a competition between her and Polly for the benefit of Jed Hunter! If it was, her sister would win outright!

His voice broke the short silence. ‘I'm sorry to barge in like this, but there is something rather important I need to discuss with you, Cryssie.'

Polly got up from the sofa. ‘I was just on my way up to bed,' she said, smiling up at him, her cherubic mouth parted in the sweetest of smiles.

‘Ah…' Jed said. ‘I shan't stay long.'

Polly drifted out of the room, throwing a curious glance at Cryssie as she went, wondering why the girl hadn't bothered to describe her dashing new employer. She'd given an impression that he was old and bossy!

When they were alone, the two faced each other, and the reason for this unexpected visit suddenly dawned on Cryssie. Of course! He'd had time to think about his irrational behaviour in the office—and obviously bitterly regretted it! He might even have thought she'd make an official complaint, and he was here to apologise! This possibility had the effect of making her feel up-beat, and she drew herself up to her full height to meet his gaze. She was aware of the six o'clock shadow already darkening the strong features, emphasising the line of his jaw. She could also smell alcohol on his breath. It seemed odd, him being here in their pathetic little home, she thought, but he was as cool as ever, barely glancing at his surroundings.

‘I was in the neighbourhood, having a drink with friends,' he said casually, ‘and thought I may as well give you a call.'

‘Oh—fine…' Cryssie said, waiting for the expected explanation for his earlier outburst.

‘I've got business in London on Sunday—and I'd like you to come with me. You might as well start learning the ropes as early as possible.' His voice was flat and uncompromising.

‘Sunday?' Cryssie echoed. ‘Do people work on Sundays?'

He raised one eyebrow. ‘Some do,' he said. ‘When necessary. And Sunday is the only day one of my important clients has free. So I'm more than happy to comply.'

Naturally, Cryssie thought. Nothing stands in the way of big business…not in Jeremy Hunter's book. But she knew she'd have to agree. She wasn't in a position to obstruct any of his plans. Not at this early stage.

‘Well,' she said rather reluctantly, ‘I expect my sister and Milo can amuse themselves for once. Do we have to be gone all day?'

‘Afraid so,' he said briefly. ‘So don't make other plans. We don't want to be tied.'

For a second Cryssie felt like refusing to go along with his plans. It seemed a bit soon for him to be running her life—especially as she'd only just agreed to be his PA. But she wasn't in the mood for any more battles Not today.

She shrugged. ‘What time must we leave?'

‘I'll pick you up at ten o'clock,' he said. ‘The meeting's at two, which will give us time for a bite to eat first.'

Cryssie bit her lip. The way she was feeling, the idea of a ‘bite to eat' on a Sunday—the day she always reserved for cooking a proper roast lunch for the family—didn't sound very attractive. But there was no getting away from the fact that she'd promised—had been more or less forced to promise—to be Jed Hunter's personal and private secretary, so she might as well accept the fact and get on with it.

He made no effort to go, and after a moment Cryssie said awkwardly, ‘Would you…would you like a coffee? Or do you have to be somewhere else?' The last part of her remark was made more in hope than expectation!

‘No. I'm not going anywhere. And coffee would be good. Thanks.'

Together they went into the kitchen, and Cryssie put the kettle on and reached for two mugs. She was glad that she always made a point of clearing up after their evening meal, so at least it was tidy enough for Jed to sit opposite her at the table as she spooned some instant coffee into the mugs.

‘This is cosy,' he remarked, glancing around him.

‘It does us well enough,' Cryssie replied, wondering what he was really thinking. She could only imagine the splendour of
his
surroundings, and ‘cosy' would not be an appropriate word! ‘The house is a bit on the small side,' she admitted, ‘and when Milo grows into a long-legged teenager it might be more difficult to accommodate us all.'

As they sat with their drinks, he said, ‘Have you told Polly about our—your—future plans? Or that Hydebound is coming to an end?'

‘That's not the sort of thing I discuss with Polly,' Cryssie said slowly, thinking privately how lovely it would be to have someone to come home to who would be interested in what she'd done all day. ‘She finds it hard to be bothered with life outside these four walls, so I never mention anything.'

There was silence for a few moments. Then he said, ‘She's a very beautiful woman.' He paused. ‘How does she spend her time?'

‘Doing nothing very much at all,' Cryssie replied. ‘She has trained as a beautician, but she suffered postnatal depression after Milo was born, and finds it hard to stick at anything for long. So it's best for her to be here, seeing Milo to and from school, and for me to earn our keep.' She looked away. ‘It works perfectly okay,' she said, ‘and as long as Milo has everything he needs, both emotionally and physically, then I'm happy.'

As if on cue, a small face appeared around the door, and Cryssie looked up in surprise.

‘Milo! What are you doing awake, darling?'

The child came over and immediately got up onto Cryssie's lap. ‘I had a bad dream. I can't sleep,' he said. ‘And I heard voices.' He looked across at Jed, who grinned.

‘Hi, Milo,' he said easily.

‘Hi,' the child said, unabashed.

‘This is Mr Hunter, Milo,' Cryssie said.

There was a pause. ‘Is he your friend, Cryssie?'

Cryssie smiled as she kissed the top of the curly head. ‘Yes, he's my friend,' she said, shooting a quick glance at Jed, whose dark eyes held her captive for a second.

After a minute, Milo said, ‘Did Mummy tell you I want a new bike for my birthday, Cryssie?' he asked.

‘She did, Milo. We shall have to see what we can do, shan't we? Perhaps we'll go to the shops at the weekend and see what they've got, shall we?'

‘
And
I've got to have a proper school uniform,' Milo said importantly. ‘Mrs Hobson told us this morning. I'll have to wear a tie!'

‘Oh, you'll look so grown-up!' Cryssie said fondly. ‘Don't get any bigger, Milo,' she added. ‘I like you just as you are!'

The child snuggled into Cryssie as if he never wanted to let her go. ‘Can I sleep in your bed tonight? I don't want to go back into my own room.'

‘We'll see. You close your eyes now, and we'll go up in a minute.'

Milo did as he was told, and was soon breathing deeply as Cryssie and Jed sipped their coffee. Presently, the man said, ‘What a beautiful child.' He paused. ‘Am I allowed to ask who his father is?'

‘No one really knows,' Cryssie replied. ‘Even Polly's not sure, and she wasn't interested enough to pursue the matter at the time. Great-Aunt Josie, who practically brought us up, had died a year earlier, then Poll found out she was pregnant and everything seemed to go pear-shaped at once. Anyway…' She paused, burying her face in Milo's curls. ‘What does it matter now?'

Jed nodded slowly ‘They're very lucky to have you,' he said.

‘And I'm lucky, too,' she countered at once. ‘I've got everything I need.'

He looked at her quickly. ‘Not many of us can say that,' he remarked.

The child stirred, and Cryssie said softly, ‘I'd better get him back to bed…'

Jed stood up immediately. ‘Here—let me take him. He's nearly as heavy as you, I should think!'

And with one easy movement he lifted Milo from Cryssie's arms and let her lead the way upstairs to the diminutive but prettily equipped bedroom. Laying the child down gently, he wrapped the duvet around his small shoulders.

‘I notice he didn't wake his mother with his nightmare problem,' he whispered, still gazing down at the sleeping child.

‘No, I'm always the first to know about it.' Cryssie smiled.

Together, they went silently down the stairs and, after calling a cab on his mobile, Jed stopped by the front door. ‘Remember—ten o'clock on Sunday. Don't be late,' he said abruptly.