His After-Hours Mistress: The Rich Man's Reluctant Mistress. Trish Wylie
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and a whole host of other adjectives she could have put her mind to had she wanted. Except—that business was business.
‘What are you doing here?’ came the next curt question.
‘You sent for me.’ Her eyes were full of innocence. ‘I have an appointment.’
‘But—you’re a nanny!’
Lucinda allowed her lips to curve into a smile. Not that it held any pleasure. Her only pleasure was in seeing this man at a loss. ‘I was a nanny,’ she corrected. ‘And, by the way, how’s Tim?’
‘Very well,’ he responded.
‘And I only did it to fund myself while I was preparing to go into business,’ she explained.
Zane Alexander frowned. ‘But it couldn’t have been more than two years ago. Three at the most! How can you possibly be—’
‘Experienced?’ she suggested sweetly. ‘Believe me, Mr Alexander, I’m very experienced.’
Blue eyes narrowed and one brow crooked upwards. Although Lucinda knew what he was thinking she didn’t let it show. She kept a cool smile on her lips and a question in her eyes.
Zane Alexander’s brow dropped again until his eyes levelled on hers. ‘Show me your credentials.’
Lucinda reached out her portfolio and sat there quietly while he studied it. In turn she chose to study him. He was really quite a handsome man—it was a pity he didn’t have a handsome character to match. In the few weeks she had worked for him she had seen enough to recognise that he thought more of going out with one of his numerous lady friends than he did caring for his son.
He had medium blond hair that waved in gorgeous disarray. It was cut reasonably short in an effort to tame it but without much success. She bet it was the only thing in his life he couldn’t take control of.
His eyes were beautifully shaped and a dusky sort of blue, like smoke out of a chimney, with fair lashes and light eyebrows that matched his hair both in colour and disobedience. His mouth was full and wide and at this moment compressed. It was a very mobile mouth, though. She had seen it smiling and even laughing, as well as expressing the grimness he showed at this moment. It was a nice mouth, she admitted reluctantly.
‘I have to confess,’ he said now, waving the folder, ‘that this is very impressive. And you did come highly recommended.’
‘Is that a compliment?’ she asked, eyes wide and questioning.
‘Not at all!’ came the swift reply. ‘I’m not in the habit of handing out compliments to people I hardly know. But I can see that you’ll be capable of doing the job I want.’
‘And that would be?’ she asked. When his PA had phoned to make the appointment with her secretary, apart from saying that it was a prestigious interior design job for Mr Alexander of Revelation Holdings, no further details had been given. The name Alexander had meant nothing to her. She certainly hadn’t equated it with the Mr Alexander she had done the nannying job for and she was deeply curious as to why he had sent for her.
Nothing around here needed refurbishing. His office block was modern, immaculate and totally awe-inspiring. All the best quality materials had been used, the colours were muted and restful and the right accents added. And, from memory, his house was the same! Large and impressive and flawless.
Perhaps he was moving? Perhaps he’d bought a second home? Perhaps his business was expanding? There was no end of possibilities. She waited patiently for him to tell her.
It was rare for Zane Alexander to be taken by surprise, but today he had been literally swept off his feet when Lucinda Oliver had walked into his office. When he’d last seen her she had simply introduced herself as Lucy, and although she was a lovely looking girl he hadn’t thought about her since.
Today she looked far more grown-up, with her flaming Titian hair brushed back in some sort of fancy loop, revealing the fine bone structure of her face and her long elegant neck. Carefully made-up green eyes shone from a matt complexion, her nose was beautifully straight and her mouth held only the merest hint of lip-gloss.
He suddenly realised that she was waiting to hear about the job and he was forced to give his head a mental shake before he could take his eyes from her. He pressed a button on the console on his desk to draw the window blinds, then another to slide down a huge screen that took up most of one wall.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked.
A tiny nod of her head was all the response he got.
The first image appeared on the screen. ‘This is a property I’ve recently acquired,’ he announced. ‘I’ve had one or two alterations made to it but now I need someone to add the finishing touches. I’ve been told you’re the best.’
Lucinda lifted well-shaped brows. ‘I thank whoever said that, although personally I don’t think I have yet achieved such stardom, but I do pride myself on my work and I’ve already won an award, if that’s good enough for you. Where is this property?’ It was a sprawling one-storey building, set amongst palm trees and tropical blue skies. ‘Not in England, that’s for sure,’ she added.
‘You’re right. I wasn’t going to tell you until you’d seen the rest of the photographs, but since you’ve asked—it’s in St Lucia.’
‘The Caribbean?’ Her green eyes widened ever so slightly and he realised how beautiful they were—wide-spaced and long-lashed—and he wondered why he had never noticed them before. They were expressive eyes and at this moment they revealed an inner tension. She was clearly feeling apprehensive. Perhaps it was because of who he was? Perhaps she had never taken on a job out of England? Perhaps he was asking too much of her?
‘That’s right,’ he answered, watching her closely.
‘And you expect me to go all the way out there?’ An even deeper incredulity darkened her eyes.
‘All expenses paid, of course,’ he answered smoothly, smiling now at her expression. ‘I take it that you’re not accustomed to jetting around the world for the sake of your job?’
‘No, I’m not.’
‘Would you object to it?’ He hoped not. He was enjoying her company and would like to see more of her. Lucy the nanny had done nothing for him. But Lucinda the interior designer was surely every man’s dream.
It was a hot day and she was dressed in ivory silk wide-legged trousers and a jacket that skimmed her waist. Around her neck hung a bronze three-tiered pendant which almost disappeared into her delectable cleavage. It was matched by bronze earrings and even her nails wore bronze polish.
She was elegance personified and nothing like the girl who had turned up at his house in blue jeans and a T-shirt. It alarmed him to realise that he would enjoy the pleasure of peeling the suit off her slow inch by slow inch and feasting his eyes on the sylphlike body beneath.
‘It all depends,’ she said with a faint grimace.
Zane berated himself. It was ridiculous to let his thoughts run in such a foolish direction. ‘On what?’ he asked briskly. ‘On how much I’d pay you?’
‘Amongst other things,’ she acknowledged, her eyes steady on his now, no sign of the tension he had seen earlier. ‘For instance, where would I be staying? Is the house habitable?’
‘Absolutely,’ he concurred, pleased to hear that she was considering his proposition. Perhaps she’d suddenly realised that she was on to a good thing.
‘And how long would I be away?’ she asked. ‘I’m not used to—’
‘Do you have family commitments?’ he interrupted sharply, glancing curiously at her left hand. He felt strangely relieved when he saw no ring, then asked himself why. So long as she could do the job, her personal affairs were inconsequential.
‘None at all,’ she answered. ‘You needn’t fear