In any case, what conference went on into the early hours? He had to be joking. ‘I can’t promise anything,’ she said.
‘Can’t or won’t?’ he demanded, mouth grim all of a sudden. ‘I can easily find someone to step into your job, Miss James.’
This was the first time in ages that she had seen a flash of his old self. She ought to have known that his understanding behaviour was too good to last. ‘I doubt it,’ she replied, adding with great daring, ‘No one else has been able to put up with your impossible demands.’
Fierce black brows jutted over narrowed eyes. ‘Is that why you think my other PAs left?’
She nodded. ‘It’s what everyone believes.’
He perched himself on the edge of her desk, too near for comfort, causing an alarming flurry of her senses. They were becoming too frequent for her own good. She was joining the others, seeing him as a sexually exciting male instead of an impossible boss.
‘Then I think I should put the matter straight,’ he announced. ‘They didn’t leave because they couldn’t work with me. I fired them because of their inadequacies.’
Peta shot him a flashing blue glance. ‘Maybe what you call inadequacies and what we girls consider to be unfair requests are two different things.’
His eyes narrowed still further until they were no more than two glittering slits. ‘I think I’ve been more than reasonable, but if you think it unfair that I occasionally ask you to work extra hours, for which I might add you are handsomely paid, then I suggest you put your coat on and walk, too.’
Peta couldn’t believe she had landed herself in this situation. She really oughtn’t to have spoken to him like that. He was her employer after all. ‘It’s all right, I’ll do it,’ she said hastily.
‘Good,’ he clipped, and returned to his office.
She was walking out through the door at the end of the day, her thoughts already running ahead to her darling son and how she could make it up to him, when Andreas Papadakis’s voice arrested her.
‘The conference starts at two on Monday. Wear your smartest suit, Miss James, and it might be advisable to pack a cocktail dress for the evening.’
Warning bells rang in her head. She lurched round and stared at him. ‘A cocktail dress?’
‘That’s right.’
Something was seriously wrong here, she decided as she headed towards her car. It sounded as though he needed a partner, not a personal assistant. And she wasn’t sure that she wanted to be that person. The trouble was she had already promised.
CHAPTER TWO
ON SUNDAY afternoon Peta took Ben to the park to feed the ducks. She’d wound down from her hard week at work and was feeling happy and relaxed, enjoying Ben’s company—until, on their return, she saw Andreas Papadakis’s sleek black Mercedes parked outside her cottage. Her heart-rate increased a thousandfold and she couldn’t even begin to think why he was here.
‘Wow!’ exclaimed her son. ‘Whose is that?’
There was no time to answer because, as they approached, her employer levered his long frame out of the car and leaned nonchalantly against it, arms folded, legs crossed, a faint smile softening his all-too-often austere features. His casual pose emphasised his dynamic sexuality and Peta felt a tightening of her muscles. Her smile in response was little more than a grimace.
It was the first time she’d seen him in anything other than a collar and tie. In a blue thin-knit half-sleeved shirt, grey chinos and loafers he looked far less formidable. But infinitely more dangerous! She was scared of the sensations he managed to arouse in her these days.
Ben broke the awkward silence. ‘You’re my mummy’s boss, aren’t you? Thank you for my Scalextric; I love it. Me and Mummy put it together. Would you like to come and play?’
Andreas Papadakis smiled briefly. ‘Some other time, perhaps. I need to talk to your mother.’
Somehow Peta couldn’t see this indomitable man getting down on his knees and playing racing cars with an eight-year-old boy. ‘Mr Papadakis is here on business, Ben. He hasn’t time to play,’ she consoled him, at the same time wondering exactly why he had come calling.
She unlocked the door and Ben ran straight up to his room, and as her boss was standing right behind her she had no alternative but to invite him in, even though she would have preferred to talk outside.
It wasn’t really a cottage, although it went under that name. It was a small, old town house on the outskirts of Southampton. She would have liked something grander but it was all she could afford, and it was home. It was clean and tidy and the furniture she’d renovated suited the house. She was happy here.
In her sitting room she turned to face him. ‘This is quite a surprise, Mr Papadakis. Is the conference off tomorrow? Is that what you’ve come to tell me?’
‘No, indeed,’ he stated emphatically. ‘I simply wanted to make sure that you’d come prepared. You looked somewhat shocked when I suggested a cocktail dress.’
‘I was,’ she claimed. ‘I still am. You make it sound as though we’re going to a party. And I—’
‘It’s no party, I assure you,’ he interjected swiftly.
‘Then why the cocktail dress?’ She wondered whether she ought to suggest he sit down. But no, he might stay too long, and that was the last thing she wanted.
‘Because after the conference we’re having dinner,’ he explained with exaggerated patience. ‘Naturally we’ll go on talking business, but it’s not the sort of place where you can underdress.’
Peta narrowed her eyes speculatively, her head tilted to one side. ‘And in what exact capacity would I be going?’ It was something she needed to get very clear in her mind right from the beginning.
Eyebrows rose. ‘Why, as my very able assistant. I thought you understood that. I shall rely on you to take notes, make sure I didn’t miss anything. You can familiarise yourself with the agenda in the morning. As I said, the conference begins at two. We’ll have a sandwich lunch in the office.’ He paused and studied her face intently. ‘You still don’t look as though you’re sure about coming.’
‘I somehow don’t think I have a choice.’
‘Correct. It’s all part of the job. Is it your son you’re worried about? Have you no one to look after him?’
‘I have, yes, but he’s my whole life, I hate leaving him. I feel I’m letting him down.’
He nodded as if he understood, but she couldn’t see how, and when he turned towards the door she gave a sigh of relief. ‘I’ll see you at nine sharp in the morning,’ he said. ‘Say goodbye to your son for me.’
‘His name’s Ben.’
‘Say goodbye to Ben for me, then.’
‘Why don’t you do it yourself? He’s dying for you to see his Scalextric in action.’ Now, why had she said that when she was anxious to be rid of him? Peta gave a mental shake of her head. She was out of her mind.
Andreas shot a look at his watch. ‘I really should be getting back, but—maybe a couple of minutes.’
Back to whom? wondered Peta as she led him up the stairs. His current girlfriend? His mistress? Or back to the office? Did he work on a Sunday?
She felt his eyes boring into her back, maybe assessing her figure, her bottom in her tight denim jeans, checking her out to see whether she could be added to his list of conquests. Some chance!
But Ben had spotted them. ‘Hello, have you come to play?’ he asked brightly.
‘Only to look,’ explained Andreas. ‘It’s a very fine layout you have there, but maybe if you…’ In no time at all he was on his knees making adjustments, much to Peta’s amazement, and it was another half-hour before he finally left.
Ben couldn’t stop talking about him. ‘Is that man going to come again?’ he kept asking. ‘Look what he did, Mummy. It’s so much better. Come and play with me.’
But Peta had other more important things on her mind. ‘Not now, darling, we have to go and see Auntie Susan.’ Sue wasn’t really Ben’s aunt; she was a friend from her schooldays, divorced and h
appy, leading a full social life.
‘Peta, how lovely to see you. And hello, Ben. How are you, little man? Come in, come in. I’ll put the kettle on. Unless you’d like wine, Peta? You look worried. Is everything OK?’
‘I’ve come to ask a favour. I need a cocktail dress for tomorrow night.’
Sue’s brown eyes widened and her mouth broke into a smile. ‘You’ve got a new boyfriend? Wonderful! Tell me about him. What’s his name? How did you meet? Where—?’
‘Shut up, Sue,’ laughed Peta. ‘It’s nothing like that. It’s a business do. I’m going with my boss.’
‘The one you told me about? The Tyrant? Goodness, I bet you’re not looking forward to that!’
Peta grimaced. ‘It’s either go or lose my job.’
Sue’s eyes flashed. ‘The man’s a pig. Come on; let’s have a look. We need to knock that man dead. Make him realise how irresistible you are. Hey, Ben, do you want the telly on while we go upstairs?’
‘I don’t want to be irresistible,’ retorted Peta.
‘Indispensable, then; you know what I mean,’ said Sue airily. ‘What sort of a do is it?’
‘I don’t altogether know,’ said Peta, following her friend. ‘A conference, followed by a black-tie dinner, but the meeting goes on while we eat, apparently.’
‘Sounds fishy to me,’ snorted Susan. ‘Are you sure he hasn’t got his eye on you?’
Peta laughed. Andreas Papadakis certainly had no designs on her, of that she was very sure.
At work the next morning her employer gave her no time to think about what lay ahead. It was head down and get on with it. They hardly had time to eat the smoked-salmon sandwiches he had sent in.
‘You can use my private bathroom to freshen up,’ he said when it was almost time for them to go. ‘You’ve brought something along for tonight?’
Peta nodded, thinking uneasily about the dress that hung in a garment carrier on the back of her office door. She ought never to have let Sue persuade her to wear it. The black one would have been so much more suitable.
In the close intimacy of his car Peta felt his presence as if she never had before. She could feel every one of her nerve-ends skittering simply because she was sitting close to him, the skin on her bones tightening, and the most damning heat invading her body.
‘What’s wrong?’
My heart’s thumping so loud it hurts, that’s what’s wrong, she thought. And it was complete and utter madness. She lifted her chin and dared to look at him. In profile, he was the essence of autocratic arrogance. A high forehead, a Roman nose, full lips, a firm chin. And, what she hadn’t noticed before, long, thick eyelashes.
He turned to look at her. ‘Well?’
‘Nothing.’
‘You’re uptight about nothing?’ he demanded crisply.
‘Maybe because I don’t think I’ll live up to your expectations, Mr Papadakis.’ Dammit, she hadn’t meant to say that. She wanted him to think that she was Miss Efficiency. But something had made her say it; probably a need to point him away from the real reason that she was on edge.
‘All you need to do is make notes. We talked about it earlier; I thought you understood. You haven’t let me down so far. I have every faith in you.’ Adding after a slight pause, ‘I’d prefer it if you called me Andreas when we’re alone.’
Peta only just stopped her mouth from falling open. Progress indeed! Not many people on the company, she was sure, called him Andreas. It was always Mr Papadakis, even from his most senior staff. His attitude didn’t invite familiarity. ‘Very well,’ she agreed, but somehow she couldn’t see herself doing it.
‘That’s good, Peta.’
She rather liked the way her name rolled off his tongue. He made it sound beautiful and exotic.
‘So no more nerves, hey?’ he asked as they pulled up on the hotel forecourt. And his smile did the most nerve-chilling things to her body. This wasn’t the Andreas Papadakis she knew, and she didn’t want him turning into anything else. She had grown used to his harshness. She could handle it. If he turned all soft on her she would end up a mushy mess.
But once the conference got under way she need not have worried. This was her employer at his most efficient. He was chairing the meeting, and every now and then when some pertinent point was made his eyes darted in her direction to make sure she had made a note of it. He need not have worried either. She was writing everything down.
Each delegate wore a name badge, so she knew exactly who was saying what, and she soon found herself either agreeing or disagreeing with the various statements. Once she almost jumped up to argue with a guy who said that the reason the shipping industry was going into decline was due to apathy on behalf of the ship owners.
It was Andreas himself who slapped him down. Peta found him fascinating to watch. In a dark grey cashmere suit, white silk shirt and a discreet red and grey tie, he was the epitome of a successful businessman. He was clearly respected and his points of view always carefully listened to. She saw several heads nod whenever he made a point; rarely did anyone disagree with him.
But she also saw Andreas the man, the incredibly sexy man. She was able to look at him without fear. She was able to look at those liquid brown eyes with their long curling lashes, at the sensuality of firm, full lips, and she even allowed herself to wonder what it would be like to be kissed by him.
With horror she realised that she had let her mind drift, that she hadn’t heard what had just been said, and Andreas Papadakis’s eyes were shooting daggers. The man never missed a thing! But thankfully he asked Peter Miller to repeat what he had said, as though he himself hadn’t fully heard. And after that Peta was careful not to let her mind wander.
So much was said, so much discussed, that Peta knew it would take her hours to type up the notes. Hours she didn’t have. Unless, of course, she could wangle a laptop out of him and take it home. It would solve the problem of asking Marnie to look after Ben and she would be able to spend precious hours with her son.
The afternoon fled and it was soon time for dinner; time to change into the dress that filled her with horror whenever she thought about it. Andreas had booked her a room and she was able to shower and take a short rest before making up her face and doing her hair.
Peta rarely wore much make-up but this evening she felt that she needed some protective armour, something to make her feel good in the dark green dress. And so on went the foundation and the blusher, the eye shadow and mascara, and a much deeper-pink lipstick than she normally used.
Finally she was ready, and at almost the same time her employer tapped on the door. Peta awaited his reaction, dreading it, not surprised when he slowly and carefully eyed her up and down. It sent a whole gamut of emotions rushing through her as she stood there and suffered his appraisal, notwithstanding the fact that he looked totally devastating in his dinner suit.
He missed nothing. Not the way the satin material defined the curve of her hips, the flatness of her stomach, or the soft roundness of her breasts. It had been horrendously expensive, according to Sue, and made Peta look taller and extremely elegant. And yet all she was aware of was how low the neckline dipped and the way Andreas Papadakis’s eyes had lingered there.
She even caught a glimpse of desire, gone in an instant, and she might have imagined it because all he did was slowly nod his head in approval. ‘Let’s join the others,’ he said crisply.
The more she thought about it the surer Peta was that she’d been mistaken. He didn’t even compliment her, which was the least he could have done, considering the way she’d put herself out for him.
Nevertheless she drew admiring glances from the other delegates, which went some way to appeasing her, and although conversation over the meal still rested on business it was far less formal and there was no need for her to take any notes.
She was extremely conscious of sitting by Andreas’s side and wished he had placed her somewhere else. She was the only female present—obviously the other men had seen no rea
son to bring their secretaries—and it was only sheer stubbornness that made her get through the evening without feeling uncomfortable.
Andreas, to give him his due, didn’t ignore her. He included her in all conversations, surprising her sometimes by asking her opinion, listening attentively when she spoke. Peta had worked for the company long enough to have formed her own ideas, and was able to contribute successfully.
The only problem was sitting close to Andreas. He had an indefinable charisma, which she was sure even the men must feel, although not in the same way as she did. He was capable of controlling a room full of people with a word and a look, but she couldn’t control the tingle of her senses. It had begun faintly and grown with every passing minute until her veins fairly sizzled.
It was idiotic of her to feel such a response, and yet there was nothing she could do to stop it. She had never for one moment expected, when she was summoned to work for him, that he would evoke such feelings in her. They were contrary to every thought she had, contrary and undesirable. Sex had never played an important part in her life, not after Joe, and she couldn’t understand why this man aroused her baser instincts now.
By the end of the evening she wished that she’d never come, and when he offered to take her home Peta shook her head. ‘It’s all right, I’ll get a taxi.’ In the confines of his car her torture would be even worse.
‘No, you won’t,’ he stated firmly, ‘and if your refusal is because I’ve had a few drinks, there’s no need to worry because my driver is waiting for us.’
There was no way out.
Peta took her time collecting her coat and bag, willing her hormones to settle down and ignore this magnificently sexy male who just happened to be her boss. Lord, if only he knew! She’d be out of a job like a shot, or—an even more terrifying thought—he’d take advantage. He’d use her!
Her face was serious when she finally joined him in the hotel foyer. This last thought had scared her, made her realise how stupid she was being. ‘I’m ready,’ she said abruptly.
The Mediterranean Tycoon Page 2