His lips had thinned and his eyes were suddenly cool. ‘You’re quite right. It’s not.’
‘I didn’t mean to... What I’m trying to say is that...’
‘I can read the writing on the wall as good as the next person,’ he said, stepping back so that she felt the sudden drop in temperature between them like a physical barrier. ‘I won’t force you to socialise out of hours, although naturally, if it’s by way of entertaining business contacts, then I will expect you to oblige.’
‘Yes, I wouldn’t dream...’
‘Of course, you’ll be paid overtime. I wouldn’t want you to think that I’m taking advantage of you because this is not the usual working environment.’
Blushing furiously, Ellie stared down at her feet for a few seconds. There was no point launching into yet another stumbling apology. Where was her much-prized professionalism? She hated the feeling of losing control.
She breathed in deeply, and when she looked at him her grey eyes were clear and calm and she was proud that she had managed to salvage the situation with some dignity.
‘Of course. And you didn’t allow me to finish. I have no problem entertaining business contacts. I simply meant that this is a first for me, being in a place like this, and I would very much enjoy getting to see a bit of the island in my free time. If I didn’t phrase that properly, then I apologise.’
‘Now you’re beginning to sound as though you’re reading from a script. I almost prefer the sniping approach. So, you want time to yourself while you’re out here? Not a big deal.’ He shrugged, which made her feel foolish for overreacting to a simple dinner invitation.
‘To explore.’
‘Naturally. I didn’t imagine you’d want nights out to go clubbing.’
Ellie had no intention being drawn into rash self-defence at that provocative generalisation, but holding her tongue was harder than she thought, and she fought to bite back the sharp retort rising inside her.
‘What time are things due to kick off tomorrow?’
‘Eleven sharp in the conference room on the first floor. We need to brainstorm before we meet the guys at one. Bring your tablet. There’s a lot we need to get through before we meet them. They’re young and, if there’s sailing involved, we’ll need to make sure we start laying some foundations down before their attention is distracted.’
‘Of course.’ Ellie thought that this was more like it. Brainstorming with her tablet and laying down foundations in a workmanlike fashion.
She was smiling, back to her usual unflappable self, as he spun round on his heels to call over his shoulder, ‘And don’t forget, Ellie...ditch the formal gear. We’re going to be sailing the high seas for a couple of hours. You might find a skirt, a blouse and some closed-up shoes get a little restrictive.’
He grinned, mock-saluted and sauntered off before she had time to answer.
CHAPTER FOUR
ELLIE APPROACHED THE hotel boutique and glanced around her. Why on earth did she feel furtive? She wasn’t about to rob the store! She was a hotel guest in search of a couple of items of clothing. Couldn’t be more straightforward!
But she did feel furtive. She felt as though she was sneaking around because she knew what James would do if he spotted her slipping into one of the hotel shops in search of some more appropriate summer stuff. He would laugh, and then he would tilt that handsome head to one side, and he wouldn’t have to say anything, because I told you so would be emblazoned on his face.
Truth was, he’d been right. In her haste and determination to erase the unfortunate lapses of the past few days, by approaching this trip as nothing but a working arrangement with just a change of scenery to contend with, she had foolishly packed all the wrong stuff. She had thought office and had gone for summer suits. She had thought meetings and had opted for her neat canvas pumps. She had banked on minimum leisure time with her boss and had stuffed in a couple of pairs of shorts and tee shirts.
In the cool darkness of her palatial bedroom last night, with a view of dark ocean through her window and the sound of night-time tropical insects when she opened the window to breathe in the warm, salty air, she had mentally faced up to her paltry choices. So here she was, at ten in the morning, hovering outside an overpriced boutique where she would now be forced to part with hard-earned cash to buy at least a couple of things that would work for a sailing trip on board a luxury Catamaran and probably a fancy dinner out somewhere.
She cringed when she thought about the cut-off denim shorts buried in one of the hotel drawers and the culottes of two summers back, both of which were absolutely fine if they weren’t going to be paraded in front of a guy who was accustomed to the women in his company looking as though they had just hopped off a catwalk. In fairness, many probably had.
Ellie knew that she shouldn’t care less what he thought of the clothes she had brought with her. Did it matter? Really? She hadn’t been employed because she knew the difference between a Chanel jacket and a Moschino coat. She was here because she was great at her job and he wanted her around to help organise the deal, which was something she was adept at doing without any input from him.
She was here because she was efficient, professional and understood the way he worked, and if she had to accompany him to one or two dinners then she would be required to fade into the background for the remainder of the time.
So what if she showed up in her usual navy summer skirt and another white blouse? So what if he found her bland skirts, and even blander shirts, a source of amusement?
Still, it mattered, and she was cross with herself for how much it mattered. Enough for her to have slunk into the boutique the very second it opened and emerge forty minutes later clutching two smart black and gold bags containing a selection of clothes she could ill afford.
She diligently stuck to her usual dress code when she met him twenty minutes later, but he was too focused on what needed to be done to pay her much attention, short of asking her, half an hour after they’d begun poring over the detail of profit and loss columns, whether she wanted anything to eat. Say the word and they would bring whatever she wanted to the conference room.
‘I had a huge breakfast.’ She politely declined.
‘And you slept okay?’
‘Brilliantly,’ she responded honestly. ‘I thought I’d be up, with the time difference, but once my head hit the pillow I was out like a light. The suite is amazing and the bed is fantastic.’
Uninvited, she imagined him lying in a king-sized bed very much like the one she had fallen asleep in, and from that diving point she plunged into her newly awakened imagination which was threatening to get completely out of control. She reined it in with effort, inwardly cursing the way three years’ worth of self-control around him had been demolished in the space of a few days and a handful of unedited conversations.
She felt the pinch of her nipples against her sensible cotton bra, an unwelcome dampness between her legs, and suddenly the room, which had been perfectly fine moments before, was uncomfortably hot. Too hot. She wanted to fan herself.
Instead, she hastily poured herself a glass of cold water from the jug that had been brought in for them and drank thirstily.
Her eyes slid down to his khaki shorts, just the right length to draw her eye to his muscular thighs and strong calves. His expensive tan designer boat shoes looked well-worn, as did his faded blue and cream polo shirt, and yet as a package deal he looked a million dollars. Money, she thought, bought freedom. And that included freedom from caring what impression you made on other people. It was that very indifference that made him stand out. He wasn’t obliged to do anything he didn’t want to do and that was all too apparent in his body language. People bent over backwards to please him all the more because he didn’t encourage it.
After the stormy break-up, Naomi had bent over backwards to reinstate herself. Ellie knew that because she had taken three cal
ls in the space of a single day before they had left for Barbados, and had, thankfully, been legitimately able to tell the other woman that James wasn’t around.
‘Believe me,’ she had said truthfully, ‘If he was in the office, I would transfer you. Perhaps,’ she’d added with a twinge of satisfaction, ‘You could try his mobile. I’m sure he’d be very happy to take your call.’
She had no idea whether he had taken any calls from his ex, and if he had whether he’d been happy to take them, but that wasn’t her concern.
‘I have a few calls to put through before I meet our clients,’ he said when they’d finally finished fine-combing through the details. ‘Unexpected and essential, I’m afraid. Will you be okay making your way to the Catamaran on your own and entertaining the guys for a few minutes if I’m late?’
Ellie watched as he absently looked at something on his phone before helping himself to water, looking at her over the rim of his glass as he drank.
‘Of course.’ It would be a chance to take in a bit of her glorious surroundings without his stifling presence next to her, consuming all her attention. She smiled. ‘Is there anything I should know about our contacts? Aside from the fact that they’re young?’
‘Nothing.’ He grinned back at her and began heading for the door. ‘Young computer whizz-kids... probably more brains and energy than common sense. I’m guessing your experience at my company will serve you in excellent stead when it comes to dealing with these three—and don’t worry. I won’t leave you in the lurch for too long.’
‘I’m not worried.’ She preceded him through the door and caught a whiff of his woody cologne.
‘That’s my girl,’ he murmured, glancing down at her. ‘I can always depend on you.’
Ellie wondered why that sounded ever so slightly patronising rather than complimentary. Dependability was what she was about, so why would she feel criticised? Since when had she become so sensitive to every passing remark? How tenable would her job be if she ended up brooding over everything he said and mulling over every expression that crossed his face? Not to mention her imagination suddenly deciding to take flights of fancy at the drop of a hat.
‘Thank you,’ she returned, drawing back to look at him. ‘Will you text and let me know if you’re going to be late, and if so how late?’
‘I will most certainly do that,’ he murmured.
Ellie ignored the lazy amusement in his drawl. ‘And should I try and get anything together before I get there?’
‘Anything like what—food? Drink? Dancing girls and circus performers?’
‘Very funny.’ She clicked her tongue with exasperation and his grin broadened. ‘Honestly,’ she muttered, ‘You’re impossible sometimes.’
‘You’re the only one who can do that.’ He was looking at her with a veiled expression that was just the right side of serious, and when their eyes met she had to control a shiver of treacherous awareness.
‘Do what?’
‘Put me in my place.’
A wave of confusion crashed over Ellie and she fidgeted, skewered by the barely readable expression in his eyes. ‘And don’t tell me that’s something you like!’ she joked shakily.
‘You’d be surprised.’ He raised his eyebrows but that lazy intensity was still in his eyes, still sending shivers down her spine. ‘Maybe we all need someone who’s not scared to put us in our place. Especially powerful men like me.’
He grinned, breaking the spell, and Ellie felt her body sag with relief.
He hadn’t meant that. Her imagination was at it again, amplifying his words. So much of what he said was part and parcel of his enormous, unconscious charm, a heady mix of intense focus wedded to light-hearted teasing that got under your skin and gave you goose bumps.
She thought about what he had told her about the aftermath of his parents’ death. About Max taking hold of the reins and Izzy finding the warmth of support which had left him... Had he dealt with loss by becoming the guy who seemed just fine under the dazzling personal charm?
‘I’ll make sure what we’ve discussed this morning is collated and ready to be emailed.’ She changed the subject, keen to get away. ‘And I’ll make sure I’m at the designated spot on time. No need to rush if you’re busy. I’m more than capable of handling the situation until you get there.’
She smiled politely and thought that it might be quite relaxing to get used to the businessmen without James lurking in the background, unsettling her.
If the deal came to fruition—and it almost certainly would, because everything he touched turned to gold—then she would inevitably be the one most in contact with the new partners, because that was usually the way it worked out. James clinched his massive deals, started the wheels churning, oversaw everything until it was safe to retreat, then left her and his various CEOs to fine-tune the details and handle the after-care. Then all those computer geniuses would move into action, taking the bare bones of the programmes handed to them and expanding them into apps that always captured parts of the market no others had captured before.
It would be worthwhile finding out a little about the guys she would end up dealing with because it always made for an easier relationship.
She thought of the prim and proper clothes she had dragged along with her and breathed a sigh of relief that she had had the chance to blow some of her money on a couple of things that would make a better impression in the casual tropical setting. She had not given sufficient thought to it when she had flung open the doors of her wardrobe in London.
For three years, surrounded by her brainy, wild and whacky colleagues, she had stuck rigidly in the background, had stuck to the persona she had moulded for herself. Years of anxiety, years of looking after her mother, years of sublimating her own grief in the face of bigger concerns, had conferred a serious maturity on young shoulders.
Here, though, under these hot, turquoise skies and velvet, starry nights, she would stop being that careful young woman, risk-averse and taking no chances.
So her boss thought she was Little Miss Efficient and Ever So Slightly Dull?
Well, it would give her a kick to prove to him that there was a bit more to her than knee-length skirts and sensible shoes...
* * *
The short taxi ride from the hotel to the marina, where the Catamaran was waiting for him, was an uncomfortable one because the air-conditioning in the car wasn’t working. By the time James had weaved his way through the crowds towards the yacht, he was dripping in perspiration and running thirty minutes behind schedule.
Thank God he could rely on Ellie to hold the fort until he arrived.
Thank God that, whatever stirrings of curiosity he had felt about the solid, dependable woman who had worked for him for the past three years, she was, underneath it all, the mainstay of his working day.
Nothing, he thought as he scanned the marina for the luxury Catamaran he had rented for the day, could ever put a dent in that unflappable personality. She was so adept at keeping a cool grip on whatever situations might occur, such as the one in which he currently found himself.
Annoyingly late.
En passant, he noted the bustle around him, the glitter of the sea, the soporific bobbing of all the yachts moored in the marina, and overhead the dazzling blue of the sky.
For a few seconds, he stopped dead in his tracks, living for the moment. It was not something he often did. Life was busy. Running an empire left little time to look around. He was a man accustomed to life being lived in the fast lane but now... ‘Fast’ was not what this spectacular island was about, and for a few minutes he savoured the pleasure of the dramatic scenery.
Around him and behind him lay the capital, Bridgetown, awash in sun as dense as treacle. Everyone chatted happily, bustling between buildings that ranged from imposing, older buildings to sleek, modern towers, interspersed with brightly coloured shops and offices. The air
smelled of the salty ocean, the burning sun and the aromas of food wafting out from doorways of cafés and little restaurants sprinkled along the promenade that ribboned along the sea front. Along the promenade, with its intricate iron railings, handy to lean against and contemplate the endless ocean, several shops spilled out their stash of brightly coloured clothes, hats and bags for sale, appealing to locals and tourists alike.
He tried to picture Naomi in this setting and was intensely relieved that things had crashed and burned. There was no way he would have been able to devote any quality time to this incredibly satisfying deal, making sure the businessmen he was on the way to meet were kept sweet. He imagined she would have wanted his full, undivided time to escort her to beaches and restaurants where she could be on show.
Ellie, on the other hand...
He headed towards the promenade, moving past little groups sitting at wooden tables, dining out in the sunshine.
He was running late, which was a pain in the neck, but he could rely on Ellie doing everything that needed to be done—from pouring glasses of whatever had been provided by the five-star caterers supplied by the hotel, to taming the young men, and adroitly introducing them to what their roles would be once the company became his. For they would retain some shareholding, with his blessing.
Right now, she would be toeing just the right line between chatty and polite and professional and efficient. He wondered which of her ‘dressed for a normal working day’ suits she would be wearing, and found himself absently toying with the fascinating notion that she might have leapt out of her comfort zone straight into something that wasn’t grey or blue.
In contrast to Naomi, he realised, Ellie, with her quietly unostentatious clothes and neat appearance, didn’t jar.
Up ahead, he spotted the Catamaran, which he had rented for the day, with a hold on it in case he needed it again. It was in a league of its own, gleaming black, its massive twin hulls holding bedrooms, a dining area and somewhere to relax away from the blistering sun.
Claiming His Cinderella Secretary Page 6