Buttoned-Up Secretary, British Boss. Susanne JamesЧитать онлайн книгу.
for the first time that evening what she was wearing. The black dress she had on suited her dainty, curvaceous figure perfectly, he thought, and he liked her hair coiled up like that. It gave her a cool, elfin, distinctive look, and tonight those eyes which he found so fascinating seemed brighter and greener than ever. She wasn’t wearing a scrap of jewellery or make-up, as far as he could tell, but why should she bother? She didn’t need anything, her natural attributes were entirely sufficient.
Irritated at his own thoughts, and still looking at her, he took a drink from his glass. He didn’t look at women any more, he reminded himself. Not in the way he always had. The youthful, carefree days of enjoying the pleasures of the opposite sex had long gone and the experience had taught him many things—uppermost of which was in future to steer clear of the sort of women he’d so often come in contact with. Vain and self-seeking, many of them were overtly promiscuous, leading little, brittle lives.
It had all made him realize, believe, that he didn’t actually like women very much at all. He admired them, some of them; well, that was the male instinct and not his fault, he thought. But there had not been one in his past, apart from Angelica, whom he could imagine might have been prepared to settle down and be a faithful wife to someone like him, forced to spend so many hours in isolation as he worked. Nor to understand his moods when he became quiet and withdrawn sometimes, or that he didn’t particularly like the heady London life and all that went with it.
He took another swig from his glass. One thing he was damned sure about—he would never find himself in the same wretched position as his father, providing untold wealth to a fickle and demanding partner who lived solely for her own gratification. His brow knitted briefly. His solitary state—though not always entirely fulfilling, he admitted—was at least comfortable. Sorting out the lives of the characters in his books was difficult enough, heaven only knew. To have a real life woman to deal with and to try to satisfy was never going to be one of his problems. He’d come to that decision a long time ago, and it was final.
Sabrina, realizing that he had been scrutinizing her for several moments, felt her cheeks begin to burn and she glanced up quickly. ‘Are you expecting your agent to be here tonight?’ she asked innocently. ‘Or someone from your publisher’s?’ she added, wondering why she was there at all, what her role was to be.
‘Good grief, no, I hope not!’ Alexander said at once. ‘No, this is just one of my mother’s pointless parties, and I didn’t particularly want to come to it alone, that’s all.’
And that was the truth, he thought. It had been a somewhat impetuous act on his part to ask Sabrina to accompany him, but for some strange reason the thought that she would be there had made the prospect of the event slightly more acceptable. He shrugged inwardly. She was his personal assistant, after all, ready to do as he asked when the need arose, and she hadn’t seemed to mind coming along. His brow furrowed again as he remembered Lydia’s reaction when he’d introduced Sabrina just now. His mother had been totally uninterested to meet his new secretary—and was that such a surprise? Sabrina did not fit the mould of the women his mother had always liked being with.
Suddenly, like a minor earthquake approaching, three women rushed up and gathered around Alexander, all talking at once, and each embracing him effusively, almost making him spill his drink.
‘Alex!’ they chorused together. ‘Long time, no see. Where have you been hiding?’
Alexander put his drink down on the table and looked at the women. ‘Not hiding, just working,’ he said blandly. ‘How’s everyone doing? I must say, you’re all looking as lovely as ever.’
They all gushed their pleasure at that remark, and as they all began to babble on, each vying to make herself heard above the others, Sabrina stood back, fascinated to witness their over-exuberant behaviour—and to see Alexander’s casually charming manner as he responded to everything they were saying. It was clear that they were absolutely besotted by the famous, handsome, reputedly unavailable Alexander McDonald. She looked away for a moment, feeling as if she was a voyeur witnessing a mating game. But what was also clear was that she herself hadn’t even been noticed, nor the fact that Alexander had someone with him. Well, secretaries were supposed to make themselves invisible when the occasion demanded, she thought. It was as if she wasn’t there at all as she was faced with the backs of the three extravagantly dressed women clustered around Alexander, still chattering non-stop.
After a few moments of this, he eased himself away and reached over to take Sabrina’s arm.
‘Sally, Debbie, Samantha—let me introduce you to my secretary, Sabrina,’ he began, and for the first time the women turned, deigning to look at Sabrina, their faces blank.
Just as they were murmuring their polite greeting, another woman arrived and draped her arms around Alexander’s neck. ‘Alex,’ she breathed. ‘At last…’
‘Hello, Lucinda,’ he said, disentangling himself gently. ‘You’re looking wonderful, as usual.’ He drew Sabrina into the gathering. ‘Meet my new assistant, Sabrina.’
Lucinda was tall, raven-haired and swathed in a tight-fitting, low-cut red dress which left nothing to the imagination. She stared at Sabrina, a curious expression on her hard features.
‘Oh. So what happened to funny, little, old dowdy Janet?’ she said, turning to Alexander again. ‘Did she die quietly at her desk?’
‘Funny, little, old dowdy Janet, as you put it, decided that she’d had enough and is now spending much-deserved time with her family,’ Alexander said, and Sabrina could see that the woman’s remarks had angered him.
‘Oh, so you’re the new typist, then, are you?’ Lucinda said, looking down at Sabrina, her eyes taking in her appearance at a glance. ‘I wonder how you’ll put up with Alexander the Great?’
‘I’ve had no difficulty so far,’ Sabrina said neatly, suddenly rattled at the company she was in, and realizing that she herself had hardly uttered a word to anyone yet.
Lucinda shrugged. ‘Efficient typists are difficult to find; I know that to my cost,’ she said. ‘Though I’m afraid secretarial work would drive me absolutely bonkers, whoever I was working for,’ she added. ‘I mean, any office work is deadly boring—surely only a stop-gap before finding other more intellectually fulfilling occupations for the more intelligent among us?’ She blinked, her false eyelashes sweeping her cheek. ‘I run my own marketing company,’ she drawled importantly. ‘Which regularly keeps me out of the country. But I’m afraid my secretary in the London office comes under the heading of “brain dead”. Lazy and utterly useless!’
The others all tittered at that, and Alexander cut in calmly, ‘You’ve obviously lost your powers of discernment, Lucinda,’ he said. ‘I have no such problems. Janet was a loyal, hard-working, good-natured professional and was seldom away. She was with me for fifteen years.’ He paused, glancing at Sabrina. ‘And I very much hope that Sabrina will beat that,’ he added, though thinking that that wasn’t likely. Sabrina would want to return to her own line when the time was right.
Lucinda slipped her arm through Alexander’s and held him to her. ‘Oh, we don’t want to waste time talking about boring work. Now, Alex, you do remember our little arrangement…?’ she said eagerly.
The expression on Alexander’s face told its own story as he stared at the woman. He answered coolly, ‘What arrangement was that?’
‘Oh, you must remember, surely?’ Lucinda cried.
‘Bad luck, Lucinda,’ the others laughed. ‘We told you he wouldn’t have given it another thought!’
‘Then I’ll remind you, Alex,’ Lucinda persisted. ‘We agreed that when I came back to the UK, if neither of us had, shall we say, settled down, we’d see what fate had in store for us. Remember now?’
‘It was all a very long time ago, Lucinda,’ Alexander said calmly, thinking, and I only said that to keep you out of my face.
‘Well, Lydia has certainly not forgotten,’