His Girl Friday

by Ellen March

  A large man strolled up. “Roman, good to see you.” His gaze focused curiously on Sally. “Dining here tonight?”

  Roman grinned. “Sally, this is Ron. He owns the pub, and don’t listen to a word he says.” He draped his arm affectionately around her shoulders.

  “As if,” he laughed. “Nice to meet you, Sally, hope you can keep him in line because someone needs to.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned. “Come on, follow me, I’ve got just the table for you.” He led the way to a private alcove.

  “This is nice.” Sally gestured to the wood-beamed ceiling with old jugs hanging from it.

  Roman glanced around, pleased by their seclusion. He was not willing to have her body scrutinised by other men. He picked up the menu. “What do you want?”

  Sally shrugged. “Go on, you order for me, but I wouldn’t mind a nice rare steak. Can’t remember the last time I had one.”

  His eyes crinkled as a frown creased his brow. “Why not?” He signalled to Ron, who sauntered over. He always preferred to serve Roman himself.

  Sally rubbed her fingers together. “It’s called a cash flow problem.” Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she took a sip from her wine. “After I paid rent on my flat and the bills, I had to see what was left. That was the deciding factor on how I ate.”

  Roman shook his head in disbelief. He’d never struggled financially in his life, not even at university, and now he had so much money it was unreal. The thought of Sally going without left a sour taste in his mouth. He was determined she never would again.

  “What about your family or friends? Couldn’t they help?” He took a sip from his beer shandy, eager to learn more about her life.

  “No family, and I don’t have many friends, apart from Yasmin. Can’t afford to socialize,” she explained without expecting any sympathy. “So this is a real treat for me.” She took his hand and squeezed it. “Thank you.”

  Roman swallowed the lump lodged in his throat, shocked that something so simple had been denied her.

  “And before you say anything, last night didn’t count. I didn’t eat much. I don’t know what he ordered me but it was gross, although I couldn’t tell Tariq that, could I?” She burst into laughter at Roman’s shocked expression.

  “What are you like, woman?” Taking hold of her hand, he kissed her knuckles.

  “Roman, do you mind if I ask you a question?” She shuffled her knife and fork around nervously, unsure how to phrase the words without causing offence.

  “Anything.” He shrugged and cocked his head, wondering what she was going to come out with now.

  “Well, my job as your secretary. Have I still got it?” She didn’t look up. “It’s only, I’ve still got to keep my flat going.”

  “Hadn’t really thought of it. Yes, you can keep doing it if you like. But you won’t need your flat anymore, Sal. You’re staying with me.” Roman was determined she wasn’t going anywhere, at least not until he discovered what she meant to him.

  Lifting her head, she grinned happily. “You sure?”

  “Count on it, and tomorrow Tariq is going home, so we’ll have time to spend together.” His expression was full of promise.

  “Why did he come over, anyway?” She leaned back in her chair as the waiter arrived, eyes fixed on the sizzling steak being placed before her.

  “Thoroughbreds. He’s buying some mares. It’s a passion of his.” He watched her eyes go wide as saucers as she stared at the amount of food. He could see her dithering where to start and noted how she closed her eyes in ecstasy as she chewed on a succulent piece.

  “Oh my word, it’s heaven,” she said, spearing a slice and savouring the taste on her tongue. Then she peeked at Roman wickedly. “Almost as good as something else I’ve eaten recently.”

  Roman almost choked and dissolved into a coughing fit.

  Half an hour later, her plate was clear and Roman closed his eyes briefly in amazement, wondering where she’d put it all. She tapped her flat stomach and groaned. “I’m stuffed.”

  “Not too much?”

  Sally winked. “Think I’ve got room for a bit more meat.”

  Roman burst out laughing. “Cheeky mare.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sally felt the sun warm on her body as she stretched. It blazed brightly through the window. An iron band circled her slim waist, and Roman pulled her to him before dropping a line of kisses down her throat.

  “What do you want to do today?” He ran his hand over her flat stomach, loving the silken texture. “Tariq is leaving this morning, and after that I’m all yours.”

  Lying on her back, she peered up at him thoughtfully. “I’ve never had that decision to make before. What do you want to do?”

  Roman grinned.

  “Forget I asked that,” giggled Sally. “You know, for a virgin who never knew what sex was about, I’m rarely without a certain part of you inside me.”

  Roman coughed and laughed at her apt description. “Sal, you amaze me at times, but you don’t know how glad I am that you’ve never been with another man.” He sucked suggestively on her finger. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you with anyone else. I think if a man tried touching you I’d want to take him down.”

  “Well, it wasn’t intentional.” She shuddered at the powerful effect such a simple action could have. “But if it means that much to you, glad I could oblige.”

  “It never would have mattered before, but as usual, Sal, with you it does.” He kissed her lightly on the nose. “And on that note, I’d better get down and say my farewells to Tariq.” Reluctantly, he rose out of bed and stared down at her. She lay on her side seductively, a single sheet half-covering her body.

  Gazing up at him, her eyes a dark, vibrant green, she tugged at the sheet and let it slip as she stretched. Her eyes never moved from his toned body, now fully aroused. A sinful smile tugged at her lips, and she held her arms out to him.

  * * *

  Tariq was already in the large hall when Roman eventually joined him.

  “Well, my friend, glad to see you’ve come to your senses,” said Tariq as he shook Roman’s hand. His attention turned to Sally as she came down the stairs. “You’ve a good woman there. Make sure you keep her.” His dark eyes were searching.

  “I intend to, Tariq.” Roman beckoned for Sally to come over. His arm curled around her shoulder, squeezing her gently. He looked down at her and could see her love for him shining back.

  “If I could have, I would have tried to take her from you,” he admitted. “But she’s a one-man woman. Be grateful—loyalty like that is a rare commodity.”

  “Tariq, if you had tried, you’d have been going home in a body bag,” Roman promised with a hint of a smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. His arm dropped to Sally’s waist. He was enjoying the sensation of her hand casually caressing his taut buttock.

  “You really have got it bad, my friend. Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.” And with one last look, he turned and left.

  * * *

  Antonia pulled up as Tariq was leaving in his large Rolls Royce. Opulence came easy to him, she thought. He was another of Roman’s friends she didn’t like. Mainly because she’d tried to flirt with him and got no response. She saw Sally in Roman’s arms and scowled. She still couldn’t believe how such an ugly duckling had turned into a swan. Now she wondered if the disguise had been a deliberate act to get into the house.

  Everyone knew Roman was a private man, hating publicity and reporters of any kind with a passion bordering paranoia. And an idea was fanned to life.

  Antonia stepped into the house, relieved that they’d disappeared. She didn’t care where they’d gone. If she had to witness any more of their loving display, she’d throw up, she thought as she stomped moodily into the office.

  As she sat at the desk, she glanced at the amount of work Sally had completed and began to casually look around. She poked into the files and absently snatched open the drawers before slamming them shut. Antonia was hu
nting for something but didn’t know what, when suddenly she glanced down into the small cupboard she’d just opened. As she stared at the writing on the scraps of paper, she recognised the name of the magazine.

  Antonia pulled them out and began reading. Her expression changed from sour to almost ecstatic, and she smothered a laugh. At last she held the answer in her hands.

  * * *

  Norma stood and stared out of the window, her fingers wrapped firmly around the cigarette she held in her hand. She stubbed it out in the overflowing ashtray and immediately lit another.

  All that was going round her head was the scoop she’d lost out on due to the imbecile she’d sent in to do the job. She failed to understand why the fool was refusing to give her the information. But she knew the girl would eventually come crawling back, and when she did, she’d grind her into the floor like the worm she was.

  Suddenly the phone rang. Glaring at it in irritation, Norma snatched it up, her face gradually changing as she listened to the woman on the other end.

  “How much do you want?” asked Norma, knowing she’d pay whatever the woman asked.

  “Nothing, nothing at all. Just make sure that when you publish it, you put down her name as the reporter.”

  “But she isn’t one,” snapped Norma, characteristically blunt. “She’s not even working for me.”

  “A mere technicality. For this one and only time, she is. Do you understand what I’m saying?” hissed Antonia. “Or I’ll take it elsewhere.”

  “No, don’t,” Norma cried, determined to have the story. “I’ll do whatever you want, just let me have the information and it’s a deal.”

  Antonia smiled. “Good. Just one more question. How long before it hits the streets?”

  “As soon as I get it, you can consider it done.”

  “In which case, I’ll scan them and send them straight to you.” Antonia wanted an end to the travesty of an affair that Roman was having with Sally, and this was the perfect way to get her revenge.

  * * *

  Paul sat in the kitchen, grinning at the two love birds.

  Sally, as usual, rummaged about in the fridge for food, and Roman, as usual, pinned his gaze at her backside, which was stuck high in the air as she bent over.

  “So Tariq has gone,” he sighed with a dramatic air.

  Roman turned his attention to Paul at last. “Didn’t pull then?”

  “Well, actually I did, but not with him. His bodyguard, Amir, is divine.” He inspected his nails thoughtfully. “Wonder when he’ll be over next?”

  “When he’s after more bloodstock, probably. And talking of fillies, what the hell possessed you to buy that crap for Sally?” he asked. “Fine in the bedroom, but I’m not having her parading around in those scraps of material.”

  Paul arched a brow. “Well, I thought they were nice. But, darling, as I’m a queen, what did you expect?” He winked at Sally.

  “Sal, I’m taking you shopping today.” Roman dared her to say anything. He was determined to dress her in something smart and flattering so that she didn’t look like a walking advert for a brothel.

  “Whatever,” she agreed with a nod of her head, munching on a slice of cake.

  * * *

  Roman reclined in the chair and told the woman what he wanted. Sally sat beside him, reading a magazine. Clothes had never been her thing, merely a means to cover up, so she was more than happy to leave the decisions up to him.

  Roman ordered everything from his associate who ran the store, down to the matching shoes and bags, all with designer labels.

  Sally began to chew on her lip. “Look, Roman, I know I need some things, but aren’t you going over the top?” She shook his arm to draw his attention. “I don’t want you spending so much on me.”

  Roman’s eyes widened in amazement. He’d never thought he’d meet a woman who didn’t want a massive wardrobe of clothes. Then he reminded himself that Sally didn’t fit into any category. She was unique.

  “Please, Roman, it’s really making me feel uncomfortable.” Her eyes beseeched him to understand.

  He hesitated briefly before nodding his head. He couldn’t refuse her anything.

  “Come on, then,” he said, sucking in a long breath. “Let’s get your wares home.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her in front of the saleswoman, who looked on enviously.

  As they drove through the lanes, Roman glanced at Sally and noticed her eyes closing. She was shattered, yet she insisted on keeping up with him. He made a mental note that tonight he’d merely hold her. As much as it went against the grain, she didn’t have his stamina and he wasn’t going to push her.

  “Why don’t you just close your eyes and have a brief nap. I’ll wake you when we get home.” He gave her leg a slight squeeze.

  “No. I’ll probably drool or start snoring.” She sat bolt upright, determined to stay awake.

  Roman burst out laughing. He never knew what she was going to say next.

  * * *

  Paul was in the lounge studying his crossword whilst Roman lay watching a wildlife programme. Sally was close beside him, her head on his chest and her eyes closed.

  “We’re going up.” He glanced over to Paul. “Think she’s exhausted.”

  “Not surprising, considering all the shagging you’ve been doing,” he said without looking up. He was concentrating on number nine down.

  “Come on, honey,” he said, gently shaking her. She rubbed her eyes and yawned. Without asking, he scooped her up into his arms.

  “Night, Paul,” Sally muttered sleepily as she wrapped her arms around Roman’s massive neck.

  Once upstairs, he dropped her softly onto the bed and pulled her clothes off. After quickly stripping himself, he joined her and pulled her close.

  He stroked her head gently. “Just go to sleep,” he said with a brief kiss on her lips.

  “Why? Don’t tell me you’re fed up with me already?” Her eyes shot open and there was a note of panic in her voice. She was still convinced this was a dream she was going to wake up from.

  “Sweetheart, never. But you’re exhausted. Just think, you’ll be the only woman I have ‘only slept’ with.” His hand stroked her back in comforting, circling motions. “Now go to sleep.”

  Within seconds he could hear her soft breathing deepen, her arm falling limply from his neck. She slept. And Roman held her, wondering if what he felt for her was love. But he was still too unsure to say the words she was longing to hear.

  * * *

  The following morning, Roman got up early. He showered while she slept, still feeling a niggle of guilt at what he’d put her through.

  She tossed and turned for a while before waking and rubbing her eyes.

  “Hi gorgeous,” he said.

  “Hi handsome.” She gave a sleepy smile and held her arms out. “Come here.”

  Roman dipped forward, his hand automatically clasping her breasts, massaging them as he kissed her softly. “Stop leading me astray, woman. I deliberately gave you a rest last night.” He was determined to keep his hands off her.

  “Thank you.” She tapped him on the nose. “But I can keep up, you know.”

  “Yes, I know, but you won’t give in and I don’t want you collapsing on me.” Reluctantly, he stood back, away from temptation.

  “Are you sure about that,” she teased, pulling the sheet back.

  “Sally, will you behave?” He laughed. “I’ll see you downstairs.” He left before his cock overtook his brain.

  * * *

  Roman strolled into the kitchen, surprised to see Antonia. “You’re here early.” He poured a fruit juice and glanced at her serious face, then at Paul’s. “What’s up?”

  “This,” said Antonia, playing her trump card. She tossed the magazine in front of him. His name was emblazoned across it.

  Roman glared at each of them, a fist clenched deep in his stomach. He had a bad feeling as he opened the magazine. Through it all, the name that kept blaring at him was Sally’
s.

  “She’s obviously come here for a story, and her glasses and clothing were a disguise,” said Antonia, hitting her stride. She wondered why he was so silent. Roman hadn’t said so much as a word.

  Paul knew Roman was seething. He dreaded the outcome. Even he couldn’t believe that Sally was capable of such duplicity, but the article spoke for itself.

  Paul glanced up as Sally bounced into the kitchen. He averted his gaze. He couldn’t bear to see that look of happiness wiped off her face.

  Because he knew her life was about to change forever.

  Sally scanned the solemn faces and frowned. “What’s wrong?” She swallowed nervously, and for some reason felt scared and defensive.

  “This!” snarled Roman, opening the magazine in front of her. She stared in horror at the words and her name at the bottom. “Can you explain it?” His voice resounded harshly around the room, making her wince.

  She shook her head in confusion. “It’s not what you think.” She put a hand out and grasped his arm, terrified when he shook her off.

  “Then what is it, Sally? Did you or did you not come here to spy on me, to get some goddamn trashy story?” he yelled, incensed at her deceit.

  “Yes, but let me explain. It’s ….” She shut her eyes when she read the fury and disgust on his face.

  “You bitch. I can’t believe I fell for it.” He scrubbed a trembling hand through his hair and paced furiously around the kitchen.

  “Roman, listen to me, I did originally intend to do it—it’s what I was paid to do—but I never sold the story.” The tears trailed down her face as she begged for understanding.

  “So how did the story get printed then?” he screamed, his voice crackling with rage. He shoved the magazine beneath her face. “And look, is that your name or a fucking coincidence?” Roman was incensed. He’d actually thought she was the one for him. But she was nothing but a gold-digging, lying journalist. He was visibly shaking, and as a haze of wrath engulfed him, he worried he was going to harm her.

  Sally shook her head and swiped at the tears that tore from her eyes. “I don’t know. I really don’t.” She snatched at his hand. “Please believe me, trust in me?” she begged. “You’ve got to know I wouldn’t do this to you.”