Hired For His Pleasure: The Talk of Hollywood / Keeping Her Up All Night / Buttoned-Up Secretary, British Boss. Susanne James
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too much, much?’ she teased, in the manner of one of her students.
Jaxon eyed her frustatedly. ‘These are your grandparents we’re talking about. And your father.’
‘Geoffrey and Anastasia never tried to hide from me that my father was actually present and sixteen months old at the time of their wedding,’ she assured him gently. ‘We have the photographs to prove it. Which I can show you tomorrow—later today,’ she corrected, after a glance at the kitchen clock revealed it was now almost two o’clock in the morning. ‘If you would like to see them?’
‘I would, yes.’
She nodded. ‘I’ll look them out in the morning.’
‘So what happened?’ Jaxon said slowly. ‘Why didn’t the two of them marry when Anastasia knew she was expecting Geoffrey’s child?’
‘They didn’t marry earlier because Anastasia didn’t know she was pregnant when she was dropped behind enemy lines in late February 1944. By the time she realised her condition she had already established her cover as a young Austrian woman, recently widowed and bitterly resentful of the English as a result, and it was too late for her to do anything but remain in Berlin and continue with the mission she had been sent there to complete. She always maintained her pregnancy actually helped to confirm that identity.’
‘My God …’ Jaxon fell back against his chair.
‘Yes.’ Stazy smiled affectionately. ‘Of course my grandfather, once informed of Anastasia’s condition, ensured that she was ordered out of Berlin immediately.’
‘And she refused to leave until she had finished what she went there to do?’ Jaxon guessed.
Stazy met his gaze unblinkingly. ‘Yes, she did.’
‘She went through her pregnancy, gave birth to her son, cared for him, all the while behind enemy lines under a false identity that could have been blown apart at any moment?’
Her chin tilted. ‘Yes.’
He gave an incredulous shake of his head. ‘God, that’s so—so—’
‘Irresponsible? Selfish?’ There was a slight edge to Stazy’s voice now.
‘I was going to say romantic.’ Jaxon grinned admiringly. ‘And incredibly brave. What a woman she must have been!’
Stazy relaxed slightly as she answered huskily, ‘I’ve always believed so, yes.’
Jaxon nodded. ‘And so you should. You’re very like her, you know,’ he added softly.
‘I don’t think so, Jaxon.’ Stazy gave a choked laugh. ‘Even in her nineties Anastasia would have made sure she got on that Harley tonight and somehow managed to ride it out of here, despite all those guards trying to stop her!’
‘Maybe,’ he acknowledged dryly. ‘But you definitely gave it your best shot.’
She shrugged. ‘Not good enough, obviously.’
‘Choosing the Harley for your first attempt was extremely gutsy.’ In fact Stazy’s behaviour tonight was so much more than Jaxon would ever have believed possible of that stiffly formal and tightly buttoned down Dr Anastasia Bromley he had been introduced to six weeks ago. ‘So you think Geoffrey meant for me to find the marriage and birth certificates …?’
She nodded. ‘I’m sure of it.’
‘Why?’
Stazy gave a rueful smile. ‘For some reason he seems to trust you to do the right thing …’ she said slowly, knowing there was no way her grandfather would ever have put the reputation of his darling Anastasia in the hands of a man he didn’t trust implicitly.
Something she should probably have appreciated more while resenting Jaxon these past six weeks.
He leant across the table now, to take one of her hands gently in both of his. ‘And do you trust me to do that too, Stazy?’
She did trust him, Stazy realised as she looked across the table at him. That silver-grey gaze was unmistakably sincere as it met hers unwaveringly.
Yes, she trusted Jaxon—it was herself she didn’t trust whenever she was around him!
Even now, worried about her grandfather, frustrated at not being able to leave the estate, Stazy was totally aware of Jaxon as he held her hand in both of his. Of the roughness of his palm, the gentleness of his fingers as they played lightly across the back of her hand, sending a quiver of awareness through her arm and down into the fullness of her breasts and between her thighs. Warming her. Once again arousing her …
‘I trust my grandfather’s judgement in all things,’ she finally said huskily.
‘But not mine?’ Jaxon said shrewdly.
Stazy pulled her trembling hand out of his grasp before pushing it out of sight beneath the table, very aware of the heat of awareness singing through her veins. ‘It’s late, Jaxon.’ She stood up abruptly. ‘And tomorrow looks as if it’s going to be something of a long and anxious day. We should at least try to get some sleep tonight.’ She picked up their empty cups and carried them over to the sink to rinse them out before placing them on the rack to dry.
All the time she was aware of Jaxon’s piercing gaze on her. Heating her blood to boiling point. Her legs trembled slightly, so that she was forced to resort to leaning against the sink unit for support.
‘Stazy …?’
She drew in a deep breath, desperately searching for some of the coolness and control that had stood her in such good stead these past ten years. Searching and failing.
‘If something I’ve said or done has upset you, then I apologise …’
Stazy had been so deeply entrenched in fighting the heat of her emotions that she hadn’t even been aware that Jaxon had moved to stand behind her. The warmth of his breath was now a gentle caress as it brushed against the tendrils of hair at her nape that had escaped the neatness of her plait. If he should so much as touch her—!
She slipped away from that temptation before turning to face him. ‘You haven’t done anything to upset me, Jaxon,’ she assured him crisply. ‘I think it’s as you implied earlier—I’m just emotionally overwrought.’
Jaxon could see the evidence of exhaustion in the dark shadows beneath her eyes. Her cheeks were pale, those full and vulnerable lips trembling slightly as she obviously fought against giving in to that exhaustion. ‘Time for bed,’ he agreed firmly, before taking a tight grip of her hand and leading her gently across the room to the doorway, switching off the kitchen light on his way out.
He retained that firm grip on the delicacy of her hand as the two of them walked down the shadowed hallway and up the wide staircase together, allowing him to feel the way her fingers tightened about his and her steps seemed to slow as they approached the top of the stairs.
Jaxon turned to look at Stazy in the semi-darkness. Her eyes were deeply green and too huge in the paleness of her face. ‘Stazy, would you rather have company tonight …?’ Even though he spoke softly his voice still sounded over-loud in the stillness of the dark night surrounding them.
Stazy came to an abrupt halt at the top of the stairs, frowning as she turned to look at him searchingly, the contours of his face sharply hewn in the moonlight, the expression in his eyes totally unreadable with those grey eyes hooded by long dark lashes and lowered lids. ‘Exactly what are you suggesting, Jaxon …?’ she finally murmured warily.
‘I’m asking if you would like me to come to your bedroom and spend the rest of the night with you,’ he bit out succinctly.
Exactly what Stazy had thought he was offering!
‘Why?’
Jaxon chuckled softly. ‘How about because I know how the hours between two o’clock in the morning and five o’clock can