The Italian Boss's Secretary Mistress. Cathy WilliamsЧитать онлайн книгу.
of embarking on a course, which she had supposedly checked out in depth. In addition to this technical hiccup, she would now have to set about recruiting someone to fill in for her when she wasn’t around.
When she had discussed her situation with Grace, resignation had seemed the most appropriate solution and thousands of miles away, with a warm Australian sun beating down and the thought of London and her job like a hazy dream, she had imagined a clean cut conclusion. Her letter of resignation, some surprise on Gabriel’s part and a valiant attempt to persuade her out of her decision, but of course in her head she never wavered. Roll on two years and she could easily see herself in a fulfilling relationship with a mystery man, someone kind and thoughtful, with the sound of wedding bells clanging on the horizon.
She hadn’t banked on the reality of actually walking back in to her office, seeing him again for the first time in three months. She hadn’t taken into account how devastating his smile could be and she certainly hadn’t envisaged her big, powerful boss with his killer looks gazing at her in that pleading manner and begging her to stay.
She thanked heaven that he was out of the office for the day, giving her ample opportunity to begin researching courses. So far only two stood out as worth pursuing as they seemed to offer what she thought she wanted and both were within fairly easy commuting distance. By the time lunchtime rolled around she had arranged to see both towards the end of the week.
Keeping her afloat whenever she contemplated the rapid desertion of her cause was the thought that she had only promised Gabriel to give it a go, leaving her the option of walking away after three months if she chose.
She was still at her desk at six-thirty, playing catch-up with all the work she had pushed to one side having spent the morning on the phone to colleges.
She was hardly aware of Gabriel until his shadow on her desk alerted her to his presence, then she glanced up, involuntarily sucking in her breath as their eyes met.
‘I guess you missed this…’ He raised his eyebrows and grinned. ‘Hence the fact that you’re still here slaving away while everyone else has gone…’He dumped an assortment of files on her desk. ‘A few more bits to keep you busy but you can sort them out tomorrow. One or two problems with that new build hotel in the Caribbean. We need to source a more reliable supplier. Roberts in Barbados should be able to help you with that one.’ He moved round to see what she was doing on her computer and Rose breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t found her scrolling down colleges in the London area.
‘This is what I missed,’ he murmured with heartfelt sincerity. ‘Your efficiency. Knowing that I could leave the office and not return to find things in utter chaos and some bloody incompetent woman weeping behind her desk somewhere.’
Rose clicked off her screen and gritted her teeth together. And that was just what she hadn’t missed! His never-ending appreciation of her as his perfect secretary.
‘Which is why I would like to take you out to dinner tonight.’
Her head swung round as she edged out of her chair, taking care to avoid making physical contact with him in the process.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I’m inviting you out to dinner,’ Gabriel repeated, taken aback at her patent lack of enthusiasm. ‘You’ve been out of the country for three months…’ He frowned and tried hard to suppress his annoyance at her studiously blank expression. ‘There are work matters to discuss and there is no way we would get the concentrated time to discuss them in the office.’
‘Well…’
‘If I don’t bring you up to speed with things, you’ll find yourself left behind and the last thing I need is to have to set aside yet more time during the working day to sort things out.’
‘Of course,’ Rose said politely. ‘I’ll just fetch my jacket.’ She logged off the computer, aware of his eyes following her every movement, and was self-consciously aware of her body as she stuck on her black linen jacket, a recent purchase that was just right for the fairly warm late spring weather.
Along with her change in shape had come a change in wardrobe. Out had gone the frumpish size fourteen clothes she had once hidden behind and in their place was an array of size tens, clothes with shapes and textures and colours she had never really been able to carry off before.
‘I’d rather we weren’t too late, though,’ she said, bending down to scoop up her handbag which was on the floor by her desk. ‘I still have unpacking to do. And you needn’t worry about me falling behind with my work. I intend to spend the weekend at home with some of the files making sure that I know exactly what’s going on with all our accounts.’
‘Right.’
‘Where are we going to eat?’ Rose glanced down at her working clothes. ‘I’m not really dressed for anywhere too fancy.’ And Gabriel didn’t really do cheap and cheerful. Not because he was a crashing snob but because he never really had any need to. She should know. She had booked enough restaurants for him in the past to realise that gingham tablecloths and bare floorboards were not his style. Something a little wicked stirred inside her.
‘I know a very good Italian,’ she said, pausing to look at him. ‘And it’s close to where I live so I can get home relatively quickly once we’re done…’
‘Fine.’ Gabriel was already regretting his invitation. It had not been meant as a working dinner, despite what he had said, and he now felt as though he had been pushed into a corner, forced to gear everything towards business when really he wanted to unwind and, if he were honest with himself, find out a bit more about the woman who had gone to Australia and returned completely changed.
‘You don’t mind, do you?’
Gabriel shrugged. ‘One restaurant is as good as another when it comes to discussing work.’
He called his driver to collect them from the front of the building and discovered that he was only marginally interested in what Rose had to ask about what had been happening in the office during her absence.
By the time they had reached the restaurant a solid forty minutes later, having waged war with the late evening traffic that had reduced some of the roads to gridlock, he was mightily fed up with discussing mergers and acquisitions. He was even more fed up with the interested but impersonal tone of her chatter. He couldn’t remember ever having had such a pressing urge to get behind the smoothly calm surface and see what lay there.
‘I hope this isn’t too casual for you, Gabriel.’
Gabriel narrowed his eyes and tried to work out whether there was a certain insolence in her voice, although when he looked at her she just seemed politely concerned.
‘Why should it be too casual?’ he asked as they entered the restaurant. It was more of a pub than a restaurant, with after work people milling around by the bar area, while others were seated at wooden tables in small, animated groups. And, to his surprise, Rose seemed to be known at the place. Someone materialised out of thin air, smiling and kissing her on both cheeks before showing them to a table tucked away at the very back.
‘Because I know you tend to like more expensive places.’
‘Oh, do I?’
‘Yep.’ She turned to him and smiled dryly. ‘Don’t forget I book them for you.’ She lowered her eyes and slipped into her seat. ‘Beautiful women like expensive restaurants, you once said. They enjoy the goldfish bowl feeling, hence you go to places where seeing who’s there is half the fun.’
‘I once said that?’
‘You did.’
‘I’m surprised you didn’t accuse me of being shallow.’
Rose shrugged, glanced at him and glanced away. ‘Each to their own. Besides, I work for you.’
‘That’s never stopped you from speaking your mind.’
Rose flushed and remained silent. Yes, she