The Boss's Unconventional Assistant. Jennie Adams
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legs although she suspected a cleaner had been through here recently.
‘I’d be happy if you’d place your bottom in your chair now, Sophia, and keep it there.’ His eyes glittered and he seemed to almost grind his teeth before he looked away. ‘Quite a lot of that correspondence is urgent.’
Soph stared at the back of his beautifully shaped head as sensual awareness belatedly impinged on her consciousness. Heat rushed into her face. That was the reason for his indrawn hiss of breath a moment ago? He’d been watching her bottom wiggle?
With a muttered agreement, Soph hurriedly took up her workload.
CHAPTER TWO
AS THE hours passed Soph learned a number of things. Her new employer knew how to churn out work. The phone wasn’t about to stop ringing simply because she needed to concentrate, and Grey had three stepmothers who all seemed determined to demand his attention. Three!
At twelve-thirty Soph handed her boss the latest phone message, from Leanna Barlow:
‘I’m his stepmother, dear. I hope he’s feeling all right? Good, good. I also need to touch base with him and…um…talk to him about a little problem I have with my credit cards…’
The message followed similar ones from Sharon Barlow and Dawn Barlow, who had both bemoaned Grey’s absence from Melbourne and his idea that he should isolate himself completely in the country for the first phase of his recovery.
They had then said they respectively wanted to—Sharon—use his yacht for a three-month cruise and—Dawn—use the plane the company chartered to fly to Greece because there was this expo on for the next week and a half—something to do with hand-crafted table decorations.
Grey ignored all the messages and carried on with his work.
Soph wanted to get chatty and ask about his family, but refrained. She did, however, help herself to a piece of paper she spotted tucked half under a pile of files on his desk as she stood there after passing him the latest message.
‘Is this your physio outline?’ Exercises he hadn’t done all morning? ‘I can help you with the routine now. It’s lunch time, so we’re due for a break anyway.’
‘I’ll do the exercises before I join you for the meal.’ He held his hand out for the piece of paper. ‘That will give you time to organise some food.’
Soph pretended not to notice his outstretched hand and, instead, walked to the photocopier in the corner of the room and made a copy of the regimen. She then passed the original back to him and disappeared into the kitchen with her page before he could say anything. She studied it as she went.
While the soup heated, Soph rushed out to the back garden via the laundry room door. Alfie was fine, but clearly wanted to play, and to come back inside with her. When she spoke his name—made up when she’d found him because she’d thought he looked like an Alfred and he had had no identification on him—he twitched his nose as though he liked to hear it.
Soph smiled at the thought and gave him as much time as she dared, then returned inside alone. It still didn’t seem a good idea to bring the topic of the rabbit up with her boss.
Grey hobbled into the kitchen moments after she got there.
‘The food is almost ready.’ She gestured towards the table. ‘Please, have a seat.’
He sniffed the air. ‘What can I smell? Sandwiches would have done. There’s shaved double-smoked ham in the fridge, cheese, pickles.’
‘It’s soup. I made it last night.’ Her sisters said her cooking efforts were legendary for all the wrong reasons. Her brothers-in-law agreed, but Soph thought they all just liked to tease her.
After all, she ate her creations and couldn’t discern anything wrong with them. ‘I hope you like roast pumpkin with some other vegetables blended in. I’ve flavoured it with curry paste, Italian herb blend and vanilla bean. I’ll make toasted sandwiches to follow.’
‘I see.’ He lowered himself into a chair and again his weariness showed. ‘It sounds…interesting.’
‘Yes, exactly. Spices add variety to life,’ she said, deliberately rewording the usual saying and smiled at him, then carried the mugs of soup to the table and placed one in front of him before she took her seat opposite. ‘You need good food to help you get well.’
‘Healthy food and quiet surroundings, fresh air and rest and a complete break from all stressors.’ Her employer seemed to quote the words verbatim. No doubt the admonitions had come from his doctor, although it did sound a little over-the-top for these simple injuries.
Grey certainly should get some rest, though, yet had he slowed his workload? If he had, she hated to imagine what it was like normally.
Lips pursed, he took a tentative sip of the orange brew. His nose wrinkled and he sniffed it a second time. Another sip followed, and he frowned and poured himself a glass of water from the jug on the table and quickly drank.
‘I’m glad you understand the concept of rest to help you get better.’ Even if he wasn’t following it very well as far as she could see.
He gave her a sharp glance across the table, but Soph maintained a serene, silent pose. Her boss may not realise it yet, but he really did need her. To chivvy him along, watch out for him.
With a smile still hovering, Soph tasted the soup. Oh, yes, lovely job. She lifted her gaze and waited, eyebrows raised, for him to express his opinion.
Grey cleared his throat. ‘You say you made the soup yourself, especially to bring here?’
‘Yes. Last night. It took a couple of hours, but I wanted to get you off to a good start, and I figured there might not be time to make it today once I got here.’ She had certainly been right about that.
His shoulders shifted in a gesture that seemed to reflect a mental discomfort rather than a physical one. Then, with a deep breath, he raised his soup mug and drank it all down. His eyes sparkled and a flush rose in his cheeks as he set the mug back on the table.
Sunshine broke out all over Soph’s world. She had harboured just the tiniest seed of doubt, but he didn’t know about that and had gulped her food with alacrity anyway.
‘You liked it.’ Pleasure and a hint of gratitude filled her voice. Grey Barlow liked her soup! Soph buried her nose in her mug to hide her grin.
‘It was…very tasty.’ He drank more water.
The water would also benefit him. Soph nodded her approval. Somewhere sweet and warm inside her couldn’t help but soften towards him. They had tastes in common—culinary ones at least—even if he felt a little shy about expressing his compliments to her.
Well, it was probably fine to like him, provided none of those other initial responses resurfaced.
When they finished the toasted sandwiches minutes later, she turned a determined gaze on him. ‘It’s time to do the physio exercise you can’t do by yourself. I’ve looked at the sheet and, if you don’t do it, you’ll miss one of the most helpful exercises on the list. You did do the rest, didn’t you?’
‘I did, and it’s not convenient to do more right now. I have work waiting.’ His lips stopped just shy of a manly pout. ‘Besides, I’ve already replaced the brace and laced it up.’
‘You shouldn’t have done that, either.’ Soph got to her feet and did not think about how kissable his lips might be, shaped in just that particular way.
He wasn’t at all adorable in his prickly splendour, either. He was stubborn and far too protective of his personal space when he’d hired her to get right in it. That was the fact of the matter. ‘Not unless you tied the laces one-handed.’
She searched the kitchen drawers until she found a cloth long enough to suit her purposes. ‘Shall we go? You said you’re in a hurry.’
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