Seducing The Enemy: The Wayward Son. Yvonne Lindsay
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reason, I just thought you might stand up to him a bit more.”
“He’d never ask me to do something I truly objected to, if that’s what you’re aiming at,” Anna said defensively.
“That’s good, then. You don’t object to being with me today. Shall we go?”
He smoothly reached out and placed a hand at the small of her back, guiding her toward the door. She felt its imprint as if she was naked and hastened to create some distance between them. As his hand fell away, her body instantly mourned his touch and she castigated herself soundly for her ridiculous reaction.
Judd didn’t speak again until they drove out from the underground staff car park in her shiny dark red Lexus IS 250 F-Sport.
“Nice car,” he commented.
“It’s a company car, it has four wheels and gets me where I need to go.”
“Kind of pricey for a company car for a P.A. You must be very good at your job.”
There was an insinuation that hung in the air between them that she really didn’t like. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of biting back.
“Charles likes to show his appreciation to all his valued staff,” she replied, choosing her words carefully.
“Some more than others, I imagine.”
Again that prick at her relationship with Charles. She knew many people didn’t understand it and she’d learned to shield herself from speculation and unkind comments. It was a skill she’d had to develop early when the children at the private school Charles had paid for had discovered she was his housekeeper/companion’s daughter.
Growing up with the stigma of her mother’s relationship with Charles hanging over her, and the sly innuendo that had accompanied it, had made her a great deal tougher than she looked. It didn’t mean that such comments didn’t hurt, not at all, but there was no way she would give the person inflicting it any satisfaction at all, nor would she divulge more information than she absolutely needed to. And never, ever would she let herself be a woman who got physically involved with her boss.
She started giving Judd a rundown on the major chains that Wilson Wines supplied with imported wines as she drove toward their head office. But he interrupted her almost immediately.
“Who is Wilson Wines’ greatest competition?”
“Jackson Importers. Why do you ask?”
“In any venture, it always pays to know who you’re up against. Tell me about them.”
“They were set up just over twenty-five years ago by Thomas Jackson. He died about a year ago and the company is now headed by Nate Hunter. He’s about your age and he’s been with Jackson since graduating with a business degree from Auckland Uni. That’s pretty much all we know about him. He’s been working out of one of their overseas offices for most of his career and has only recently come to New Zealand to take the reins from the interim CEO. No one’s really too sure what he’s like personally. What we do know is that he has a very competitive business head on his shoulders and he works hard to give us fierce competition. He’s run their European operations superbly for the past few years.”
“Thomas Jackson … I think I remember someone with that name from when I was a kid.”
“That would probably be right,” Anna commented. “Thomas Jackson and your father were business partners and best friends. They had a disagreement and Charles bought him out.”
“Must have been a helluva disagreement.”
“I wouldn’t know.” Anna shrugged, trying to keep her face expressionless. “It was before my time and my mother never spoke about it.” True, her mother hadn’t spoken about it, and neither had Charles—but Anna had drawn her own conclusions from the rumors that still persisted even years later, and it wasn’t difficult to do the math. Charles’s divorce from Cynthia and his falling-out with Thomas Jackson had happened at exactly the same time. Those incidents coupled with Charles’s insistence on Judd being DNA tested—well, the writing was very clearly on the wall.
Judd sat in his seat, a contemplative expression on his face. Anna wondered what on earth was going through his mind.
“Charles has never said anything to you about it?” he eventually said.
“Not a word, and it’s not really something I’d raise with him, anyway. If you want to know more, you’ll have to speak to him yourself,” she said a little sharply.
Judd chuckled. “And so I’m duly put firmly in my place.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t worry, Anna. You’re right. I should do my own background checks if I want to know things. And I will.”
His words made her nervous. Why was it so important for him to dig into the past? Surely it was enough that his father wanted to mend the broken bridges between them. She knew that the death of Thomas Jackson had hit Charles hard. She’d always thought Charles had thrived on the challenge and competition his past colleague presented to him on a regular basis, but now she wondered whether, once the heat and anger had died down, Charles hadn’t been suffering regret for the way their friendship had ended.
Either way, the topic wasn’t open for discussion as far as she was concerned. She swung her car into a space in the car park at the premises of Wilson Wines’ largest customer, grateful for the opportunity to put some space between them. Knowing his opinion of her had done nothing to calm her ever-present awareness of him—of the way her body warmed every time he was in the vicinity, of her hyperawareness of his alluring cologne as it wreathed her senses in forbidden enticement. She resolutely cleared her mind of anything else but what Charles had asked her to do today. She’d get through this, even if it was the last thing she wanted to do.
The minute they set foot back in the house Anna could sense something in the air. There was an energy thrumming through the place that hadn’t been there this morning and when she went through to the kitchen for a chilled glass of water, the cook and housekeeper were working flat out on what looked to be very elaborate meal preparations.
“Did I miss something?” she asked the cook, who was busily checking pots on the commercial-size stove top.
“No, dear. Just himself making requests for something very special for dinner tonight—says he has an important announcement to make, and he wants you all to dress up, too. Can you let Miss Nicole know when she gets in?”
Clearly the courier pack he’d received this morning had borne the news Charles had wanted so very much. A vague numbness permeated Anna’s body, leaving her confused about how she felt about the news. It was what Charles had wanted, there was no doubt about that. But she knew he hadn’t said a word yet to Nicole about his plans. If he had, she knew Nicole would have discussed it with her. Still, Nicole had been avoiding her lately, still stung, Anna was sure, over her not disclosing the reason for her trip to Adelaide. Worried she might miss Nicole, she sent her a text message.
Don’t be late tonight. Your dad wants us all dressed up for dinner. He has an announcement to make. —A.
Nicole was quick to reply; a series of question marks flashed across Anna’s screen. She swallowed against the knot of disloyalty that tightened in her throat as she texted back.
No idea what it’s about, sorry.
On the way to her room she passed by Charles’s suite, knocking softly on the door before letting herself in. He wasn’t in his private sitting room, so she figured he must be resting. It had become a regular habit of his after a half day at the office—late starts, early finishes and plenty of rest in between. She was reluctant to disturb his nap, but she needed to talk to