Hired: A Bride for the Boss: The Playboy Boss's Chosen Bride / The Corporate Marriage Campaign / The Boss's Urgent Proposal. SUSAN MEIER
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still he was only getting the answering machine when he telephoned her apartment. Had she already left on her vacation? Or…no, it was beyond belief that she really was cosying up to his grandfather. That had only been a game…hadn’t it?
He called the Vaucluse mansion.
The butler answered.
‘It’s Jake,’ he said quickly. ‘Is my grandfather in, Harold?’
‘Mr Byron is out today.’
Jake hesitated, but the need to know drove the question. ‘What about Ms Rossi?’
‘Ms Rossi accompanied Mr Byron.’
Jake’s stomach clenched. ‘When will they be home?’ shot out of his mouth.
‘Dinner is to be served at the usual hour so I’m expecting them to return before then.’
Them! Not just his grandfather!
Jake forced himself to say, ‘Thank you, Harold. I’ll call later.’
‘Any message, sir?’
‘No. Thank you.’
It was impossible to apply himself to any work. His mind kept churning over the situation with Mel. Was it going beyond a game? His grandfather had the wealth to wrap a woman in however much luxury she desired but surely Mel wouldn’t consider marrying an eighty-year-old man.
Maybe she’d taken up the position of his personal assistant, with the promise of lots of perks on the side. His grandfather would spoil her rotten and enjoy every minute of doing it. And Mel would perform brilliantly as she always did.
Damn them both!
That scenario was almost as hard to swallow as marriage. But what could he do about it? He chewed over the problem and was still chewing it over when his temporary assistant alerted him to a call from Vanessa Hall. With considerable effort he reset his mind to dealing with the other fallout from his grandfather’s party. It was now late afternoon and he hoped she didn’t want to press for a reconciliation.
‘Vanessa…what can I do for you?’ he asked blandly.
‘I’ve just come home from doing a charity luncheon fashion parade…’
Reminding him she was a queen of the catwalk and should be valued accordingly.
‘Guess who was there, Jake,’ she prompted silkily.
His spine crawled. ‘Do tell,’ he drawled, knowing instantly what this call was about and resolving to sound uncaring.
‘Byron and your cake bimbo,’ she crowed.
‘No doubt they were enjoying themselves.’
‘Oh, yes! The champagne was flowing. For good reason. She’s now wearing a huge, flashy, diamond solitaire ring on her engagement finger. Happy days, Jake! You might get to kiss the bride.’
CHAPTER SIX
MERLINA was beginning to appreciate how very seductive the lifestyle of the mega-wealthy could be. The bedroom suite she was currently occupying was absolute luxury, and from the moment she’d stepped into Byron’s amazing mansion, she hadn’t done a single chore—no cooking, no cleaning, no washing, ironing or tidying up. Her only job was to look good and be ready to do whatever Byron decided they should, which invariably involved the pursuit of pleasure in one form or another.
In a purely pampering sense, this was the best start to a vacation she’d ever had, though it was impossible not to think about Jake and how her departure from his life might be affecting him. Had he missed her at work today? Or was the new temporary assistant—chosen in a fit of female pique—providing the kind of distraction a playboy appreciated?
She glanced down at the magnificent diamond ring Byron had insisted she wear, arguing that it was a necessary prod to produce results. Her fingers automatically wriggled to catch the light in the facets of the fabulous gem. It was seductive, too, but not all the wealth in the world could give her what she really wanted. Could this pretend engagement to his grandfather pry Jake from his freewheeling life-style?
With a heavy sigh, she picked up her hairbrush, determined on not letting the answer to that nagging question mean too much to her. She had a life to live no matter what, and right now it was better to concentrate on presenting a picture of perfect grooming for Byron.
While the blond wig had worked effectively at the birthday party, she much preferred her own natural dark brown hair for real life and wasn’t about to change it. If Jake didn’t find her so desirable as a brunette, that was his problem, not hers. Such a superficial thing should be irrelevant. It was the person to person attraction that put depth into a relationship—enough depth for a marriage to work.
Having refreshed her make-up, Merlina checked her overall appearance in the cheval mirror before going downstairs for pre-dinner drinks with Byron. She was wearing one of her new dresses from yesterday’s shopping spree—a tan and white polka dot silk wrap-around with a wide tan leather belt cinching in her waist. It was both elegant and sexy and she loved it, especially teamed with the new Ferragamo tan and white shoes. A classy outfit for job interviews, she’d decided, and didn’t care how much it had cost.
If Jake did not rise to the occasion, she was determined to start afresh, setting aside everything linked to him, including the type of clothes she’d chosen to fit into the company image. Stodgy black suits were out, too. They’d been a hangover from what her family had expected of her, and coincidentally suitable for her previous job since her Queen Bee magazine boss had hated anyone stealing her limelight. Now she had the confidence to create her own style and stick to what she liked for herself.
It was also time she found a husband, though where she was going to find a man she’d want to spend her life with was definitely a problem. After being with Jake…she shook her head. Making comparisons was stupid. Besides, hadn’t she thought all along that Jake wasn’t marriage material?
Though Byron thought he might be, given enough provocation to realise that she was the one for him to marry. The hope that her benevolent match-maker’s reading of the situation was right kept pumping through her heart. Dreams did not die easily.
But whatever the outcome of Byron’s manoeuvres, she still had to look for a new position. There was no going back to what had been. Moving forward, one way or another, was the only option.
Having set her mind straight once again, Merlina went downstairs to the main reception room. As she entered it, she couldn’t help thinking that only the mega-wealthy would choose white sofas. They looked wonderfully dramatic set amongst beautifully polished antique furniture and the gloriously coloured rugs on the parquet floor, but they’d be hell to keep clean in any normal living area.
Byron, looking sartorially splendid in white trousers and shirt, teamed with a beige linen jacket, swung around from a cocktail cabinet from which he’d just collected two crystal flute glasses. He beamed at her at her as though she was the best plaything he’d ever picked up. No doubt about it. Jake took after his grandfather.
‘Good news, my dear!’ he cried triumphantly. ‘Harold has just informed me that Jake called this afternoon and he asked about you!’
Her pulse skipped haphazardly at this evidence that Jake hadn’t simply wiped her out of his life as she’d thought he might, his ego smarting at her bold and abrupt departure from the place he’d put her in.
‘It could just be a problem at work,’ common sense forced her to say.
Byron grinned at her. ‘He also asked when would we be home? I am confidently anticipating a visit from him this evening.’
‘He probably asked out of irritation that I wasn’t readily available,’ Merlina muttered.
‘Oh, ye of little faith,’ Byron mocked good-humour-edly, his eyes twinkling devilment. ‘You’re forgetting our trump card.’
‘The