Taken by the Boss. Кэрол Мортимер

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Taken by the Boss - Кэрол Мортимер


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looking up, but very much aware that the group around them had grown silent now as they listened to the exchange. Exchange? It could hardly be called that when Desmond Hayes was the one doing all the talking! In a flirtatious way he had. And, to add to her confusion, he still hadn’t released her hand!

      She moistened her lips once again. ‘I—’

      ‘Careful, Desmond,’ Marcus told the other man with lazy derision, his arm moving casually about Kit’s shoulders as he did so.

      ‘Private property, eh, Marcus?’ the older man said regretfully.

      Kit found this whole conversation distasteful—and attention-drawing. Which was what she most certainly didn’t want at this particular moment!

      ‘Something like that,’ Marcus returned noncommittally.

      ‘Can I offer the two of you glasses of champagne?’ Without waiting for their answer, Desmond Hayes plucked two flutes off the tray that a passing waiter was carrying.

      Kit accepted the glass he held out to her, taking a much-needed sip of the bubbly liquid it contained. Getting drunk certainly wouldn’t help this situation, but hopefully she would become too numb to care!

      Marcus held up the two bags he was carrying. ‘Are you going to tell us where the two of us are to sleep so that I can get rid of these, or do we just go upstairs and take our pick of bedrooms?’ he prompted.

      ‘I’ll have Forbes take your luggage upstairs,’ Desmond Hayes murmured apologetically, giving Kit’s hand one last familiar squeeze before releasing it to turn and signal to the butler standing unobtrusively down the hallway. The elderly man immediately came over to relieve Marcus of the two bags.

      Not that Kit was taking too much notice of these proceedings, still caught up in Marcus’s last comment, especially the part about, ‘where the two of us are to sleep’!

      Surely Marcus wasn’t expecting them to share a bedroom? That would be taking her supposed role as the current woman in his life a little too far. In fact, as far as she was concerned, much too far!

      ‘Catherine,’ Marcus was greeting lightly now as their host disappeared to instruct Forbes on where to put their luggage, turning to smile coolly at the woman who stood slightly apart from the other guests.

      Almost as if, like Kit, she were trying to remain unobtrusive. And yet Kit knew that couldn’t be true. It was more likely that the older woman was watching them all with the contemptuous amusement for which she was so well known.

      The woman’s height only added to her imperiousness, her smooth, shoulder-length hair completely without adornment, or any pretence of hiding its silver colour, confirming her sixty-seven years, though her figure was still youthfully slim in the plain black dress she wore, and the unlined beauty of her face dominated by hard silver-grey eyes.

      Kit had never actually met her before, and yet she would have known her anywhere.

      Catherine Grainger.

      Marcus’s arch business enemy…

      But also the very, very last person of whom Kit wanted to be within one hundred miles!

      CHAPTER FIVE

      ‘WILL you stop pacing up and down like that?’ Marcus said as he lay back on the bed watching her. ‘I feel exhausted just watching you!’

      Kit spared him an annoyed glance, but didn’t hesitate in her pacing. This whole situation was intolerable, and all he could do was lie there looking—looking—utterly desirable!

      His dark hair was ruffled, his eyes sleepily sensual—and the fact that he was completely relaxed as he lay on the bed certainly didn’t help to allay that impression!

      ‘Look on the bright side, Kit—’

      ‘Is there one?’ she groaned, moving to stand next to the bed. ‘And will you please get up?’ she demanded. ‘This is where I have to sleep tonight.’ Something that was going to be virtually impossible for her to do now she had the image of this man lying back on her pillow!

      ‘Sorry!’ Marcus sat up slowly, eyeing her with amusement. ‘But surely that is the bright side?’ he encouraged. ‘At least we have adjoining bedrooms rather than having to share one.’

      Oh, yes, that was really comforting! The connecting door between the two bedrooms stood wide open at the moment, with no key on either side to lock it even when it was closed. Kit knew this, for she had already looked for one!

      The half an hour or so of torture Marcus had spent downstairs socializing with the other weekend guests before coming up to change for dinner was nothing compared to finding that they had been given connecting bedrooms.

      ‘Personally, I think it was pretty decent of Desmond not to have just assumed that we—well, that we—’

      ‘Are lovers?’ Kit finished forcefully, way beyond being reasoned with.

      Marcus shrugged. ‘Well, you have to appreciate that it’s good of him, given the circumstances, and the amount of other people here for the weekend. After all, this isn’t a hotel; I could hardly phone on ahead and book two single rooms!’

      She didn’t have to give Desmond Hayes anything. Or Marcus Maitland, either, for that matter!

      ‘You wouldn’t have done it anyway—I would!’ She sighed, her nerve endings feeling so frayed she wanted to scream.

      The hour since they had arrived at Desmond Hayes’s home had been filled with one shock after another, so much so that all Kit wanted to do right now was lock herself in the en suite bathroom and stay there until it was all over. She certainly wasn’t in the mood to be teased and cajoled!

      She glared at Marcus, her hands clenched at her sides, so agitated that she felt as if she wanted to hit someone, if not physically then verbally would do. ‘Is this the usual practice when you’re away with your PA? Was that the reason that Angie Dwyer told me about you, the reason she decided to leave? Did she object to—?’

      ‘Careful, Kit,’ Marcus cut in with quiet intensity, his eyes narrowed. ‘I may be feeling pretty mellow at the moment, but I would advise you not to forget exactly what the two of us are doing here.’

      She breathed deeply. ‘That’s the problem; I’m no longer sure what I’m doing here. If this really is a working weekend, then that’s okay. But if you expect me to—to—’ she made an agitated gesture towards the rumpled bed that he still sat on ‘—then I’m afraid you’re going to be sadly disappointed, because I—’

      ‘Stop right there,’ he commanded harshly, standing up so abruptly that Kit took an involuntary step backwards. He gave a humourless smile as he saw the movement. ‘To put the record straight, the reason Angie Dwyer decided to leave had nothing to do with my behaviour—and everything to do with her own!’ He grimaced. ‘To be ungentlemanly about it—’

      ‘Oh, do!’ Kit invited agitatedly.

      He gave her a warning look. ‘To be ungentlemanly about it,’ he repeated tautly, ‘Angie was the one who decided our relationship could be a little more—intimate, shall we say? I don’t get involved with employees. For goodness’ sake, Kit,’ he implored as she still looked unconvinced. ‘Need I remind you that until a couple of hours ago you looked as desirable as someone’s maiden aunt. I certainly didn’t give you the job because of the way you looked!’

      Of course he hadn’t, she realised self-disgustedly. She was just so upset by whom she was expected to spend this weekend with that she had gone completely off on a tangent. As if Marcus would ever find her attractive, even without the severe hairstyle and glasses, when there were women like Andrea Revel falling all over him.

      And that was something else…!

      ‘Okay,’ she dismissed tautly. ‘I suggest we forget about that side of things for the moment.’

      Especially as she had been completely wrong in her conclusions


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