by Kim Lawrence
Libby closed her eyes. She knew before she turned who she would see standing there, and her instincts had not failed her.
A serene smile painted on her face to cover the humiliation burning through her veins, she turned to face the tall, imposing figure of Rafael Alejandro. He must have enjoyed seeing her make a total fool of herself.
‘Coffee, sir?’ she said, aiming the question at a point over his shoulder.
Rafael arched a dark brow and turned to the younger man beside him whose presence Libby had not until this point even registered. Her attention had all been focused on the man she had intended to impress with her efficiency.
Well that went well, Libby.
‘What did you think, Callum—should we risk it?’ Despite the gentle jibe Rafael had not taken any pleasure from witnessing her public embarrassment. On the contrary he had been impressed by the way she had lifted her chin when the smirking idiot had laughed, after she had flinched. It was at that point that Rafael had had to restrain an uncharacteristic impulse to rush protectively to her side.
Through a miasma of misery Libby heard the other man laugh, but not unkindly. ‘I’d love a top-up,’ he said, adding, ‘We’ve all been there.’
Libby flashed him a smile of gratitude and thought, Except Rafael, as she tried and failed to imagine the elegant Spaniard messing anything up except other people’s lives.
The other man grinned, unwittingly echoing Libby’s thoughts as he added drily, ‘Not Rafael, of course.’
Irritation moved at the back of Rafael’s eyes. ‘Rumours of my infallibility have been grossly exaggerated. I’ll take a coffee.’
As she filled the cup he held out Libby’s hand shook. Rafael’s eyes travelled from her small trembling hand to her stiff frozen features and he felt like a total bastard.
The opinion was shared by the voice of his troubled conscience.
Why troubled? She was here voluntarily and he was treating her the same way he treated all the interns. It was a method he had used after an intern with a particularly high opinion of himself had caused a lot of bad feeling with his know-it-all attitude; now everyone’s first day was spent on the very bottom rung.
Libby was relieved when she was forced to step to one side to allow a tall woman wearing a red suit that made her stand out amongst the more sober hues approach Rafael.
That the most attractive woman in the room made a beeline for Rafael was not exactly a surprise—the surprise would have been if she hadn’t!
Libby, despite a near miss when she heard the woman in the red dress laugh throatily in response to something Rafael had said, managed to get through the rest of the service without further incident, possibly because Rafael only stayed for about five minutes after which miraculously her co-ordination returned enough to receive a word of praise from the man in charge when he came to tell her she should leave early to attend the requisite session on health and safety.
Halfway to her destination she realised that she was happy because someone had told her she was quite good at serving coffee.
She began to laugh out loud.
‘It is always good to see someone happy in their work.’
Libby, no longer laughing, stopped dead.
‘I had the feeling back there that you wanted to say something to me.’
Libby shrugged. ‘Just that you’re a total bastard.’ She closed her eyes and thought, You couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you, Libby?
‘In that case I admire your restraint.’
She opened her eyes and thought, To hell with restraint. I’ve already blown it. ‘So do I, I admire me, and my restraint a lot—my restraint,’ she bellowed, ‘it’s just … just legendary. I was incredibly polite to a bunch of patronising idiots in suits who didn’t even notice me and I’m not even being paid for it, and for the record serving coffee is not as easy as it looks. Whatever you pay those people it is not enough!’ She paused to catch her breath. Losing it did not cover what she had done. This time, Libby girl, she told herself, you’ve really crossed over into the dark side and closed the door behind you.
‘I noticed you.’
Her startled gaze flew to his face. Of all the things she had imagined him saying in response to her slightly insane tirade, this had not featured.
Her eyes connected with his smouldering, mesmeric stare and Libby stopped breathing.
Lust licked through her body like an out-of-control forest fire, hardening her nipples to painful prominence.
She expelled a long shuddering sigh and lifted her chin, blocking the relentless flow of steamy images her treacherous mind was forming. The effort required to achieve this made beads of sweat break out along her upper lip.
‘Waiting for me to fall flat on my face, I suppose.’
‘I thought you handled yourself pretty well in there.’
Again his response was not what she had expected. ‘And in there—I have to say I don’t appreciate your sense of humour. Did you ever have any intention of giving me an internship?’
‘You expect me to treat you any differently from other interns? You require preferential treatment?’
Libby loosed an incredulous laugh. ‘Oh, sure, I’m sure you get all your interns to pour coffee.’ Hating the hurt quiver in her voice, she bit down hard on her lower lip, trapping the weak sob that ached for release in her throat.
Rafael felt horror as he watched her eyes fill with tears, but he refused to soften his attitude. No doubt her big blue eyes and tears had been making people soften her path all her life, but he was not falling into that pattern.
‘Not all.’
His attitude stoked her fury. ‘Not any!’ she contended angrily.
‘Believe it or not, it’s true. You were not singled out for special treatment. You remember Callum, the man with me that you spoke to?’ Smiled at.
Libby nodded.
Rafael forced the fists clenched at his sides to unclench. ‘He was an intern—his first day was spent in the post room.’
Libby stared, not sure if she believed him.
‘This place works as a team. Respect for what other people do is essential. I appreciate and respect what everyone here does but I have swept roads and washed windows.
‘Many of the people who come here from university have not taken that route. Some, not all, have led privileged lives,’ he said, looking at her hard. ‘They arrive with an over-inflated opinion of their place in the scheme of things and sometimes a lack of respect for people lower down the ranks than them.’
‘And you make them serve coffee.’
‘Amongst other things.’
‘So this was some sort of test?’ Had she passed?
He arched a brow. ‘You could look at it that way.’
‘So this is for real? You are giving me a chance to help my family.’ She remembered she had called him a bastard and paled.
‘Your father will receive information from my legal department telling him that the closure has been put on hold while the figures are re-examined.’
‘So it all depends on me.’
‘Yes.’
‘So no pressure, then.’ She glanced up at him. ‘You don’t think I can do it, do you?’
His brilliant eyes scanned her face. ‘Forget what I think … what do you think?’
Libby’s chin lifted and she nodded. ‘I think I’ll be the best intern you’ve ever had.’
CHAPTER TEN
WHILE she was not the best, during her first week Libby Marchant proved to be different.
Far from behaving like the spoilt prima donna he had once accused her of being, she had, according to the reports he had received, shown a willingness to throw herself with enthusiasm into everything requested of her.
He could find no fault with her work ethic and general keenness; it was the more personal quirky touches that he had doubts about. He liked the office environment to be an emotion-free zone, he expected his employees to leave their problems at home and, had the question ever arisen, he wo
uld have felt the same about home baking.
The muffin situation was getting seriously out of hand. He could barely walk past a desk without seeing some garishly decorated home-baked goodies on display. He was struggling to keep an open mind on the subject, though he suspected a baked-goods ban would not go down well so while it only affected personal waistlines he was holding fire.
The soccer situation was not so innocent. Could anything be innocent when young testosterone-fuelled sportsmen were involved? Rafael had been startled and not entirely pleased to learn only that morning that his new intern had been adopted as the mascot of the firm’s five-a-side soccer team after her appearance on the touchline had coincided with their first ever win.
The team, which had in his opinion more testosterone than talent in its ranks, apparently now called her their lucky charm. He had no doubt they called her other things in the changing rooms. Did she even realise she had made herself the butt of sexist jokes and ribaldry?
Arriving on the Monday of her second week, Libby received a summons to Rafael’s office.
Standing in the outer office, this time by invitation, she was directed to a chair by Rafael’s gorgeous blonde PA. Opinion in the building was divided on whether her relationship with their boss extended as far as the bedroom.
Libby waited and felt like a naughty schoolgirl summoned to the headmaster’s office.
Or as her family would have said—that monster’s office. She supposed there would never have been a good time to tell them, but the strength of their reaction when she had come clean the previous night had shocked her; so, if she was honest with herself, had the degree to which her own view of the situation had shifted.
She leaned back in her seat as selected highlights of the conversation drifted through her head.
She had not entered into the discussion over the dinner table concerning the rather unexpected reprieve. Her father, happily but rather unrealistically predicting that Rafael Alejandro would come to him for advice any day now, had contended that the Spaniard had realised he had made a mistake.
‘He doesn’t have the experience, just not the man to fill Aldo’s shoes, but they were big shoes.’
Libby, listening, had had to bite her tongue to stop herself revealing the truth. A week ago she might have agreed, but now it felt quite wrong that all the blame should be laid at Rafael’s door.
‘I’d thought of taking a trip to the races on Monday.’
‘Excellent idea—we could all go,’ Kate Marchant had approved. ‘It would take your mind off things.’
Libby had felt guilty to find herself thinking that her father was too good at taking his mind off things.
‘How about you, Libby? I could speak to Mike about giving you a day off.’
‘No.’
‘Oh, Mike won’t mind,’ her dad had promised, patting her hand.
‘I handed in my notice last week.’ It was a risk but for once in her life Libby wanted to work without a safety net.
Her parents had stared at her. ‘But why?’ they had asked in unison, dismayed but not at that stage angry—the anger had come later.
‘Actually I have another job … well, internship really, but—’
‘Well, that’s excellent. Well done, darling, but why on earth didn’t you tell us?’
‘I’m working for Rafael Alejandro—not personally, obviously.’
‘You’re not serious!’
‘Blood pressure, darling,’ Kate Marchant had warned. ‘It’s just a joke—tell him, Libby …’
‘It’s true. I was working there all last week.’
From that point things had got extremely heated, her father had accused her of disloyalty and called her a silly little girl, her mother had cried.
‘But this experience could get me a good job.’ Still unwilling to raise false hopes, she had refrained from telling them the benefit her internship could bring their way.
‘You have a good job,’ her father had protested.
‘Dad, I cover dog shows. I’m bored.’
Her dad had given a contemptuous snort. ‘Bored! Since when?’
Since always, she had realised with a sense of shock.
‘He’ll see you now.’
The blonde PA’s voice jolted Libby back to the present.
‘Thank you.’ Libby took a deep breath and accepted the invitation to enter the inner sanctum.
Last time he carried me.
The thought made her stumble, but luckily her grace-lessness went unnoticed—Rafael wasn’t looking.
He didn’t even glance up. She waited, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, her resentment and nervousness growing with each passing second that he continued to study the paper set on the desk before him.
It seemed ironic now that she had worried about sexual harassment. Far from his harassing her, the only time their paths had crossed since that first day Libby had been left with a tentative smile on her face feeling stupid as Rafael had blanked her totally.
Clearly his egalitarian rules had exceptions.
Libby told herself she didn’t want him to notice her; she didn’t want to notice him, not that way, but she couldn’t help it.
On that occasion it had taken Libby’s tumultuous pulse ten minutes to return to anything approaching normal.
Libby stared at the dark hair curling into his strong neck and, feeling things start to shift and tighten deep inside, thought what was she doing.
‘This week you will be shadowing …’ Rafael paused and lifted his head.
He saw her standing hands folded primly in front of her, her luscious body looking the total opposite of prim, looking in fact luscious, and he forgot what he was saying as lust slammed through his body with a force that pushed him back into his seat.
‘You?’
Rafael pushed away the image of her lying across his desk, her short skirt around her waist, and cleared his throat.
Following him around all day, sitting within feet of him! He did not trust himself to move the other side of the desk. ‘No, not me.’
‘Good …’ She met his eyes and blushed. ‘That is, I’m sure you’re too important to bother with interns.’ She sounded like a total sycophant on board the Rafael worshipping express with everyone else here. ‘I meant …’
It was Rafael’s deep voice that stopped her digging herself any deeper. ‘One intern bothers me a lot.’
Libby swallowed. ‘I … they do?’ He’d said she’d know when he asked her, but she didn’t—was this it?
His hot hungry eyes brushed hers for a split second before his lashes swept downwards.
Rafael, pretending he hadn’t heard her choked little gasp, directed his gaze at the paper before him. ‘Gretchen will fill you in with the details.’
Libby, hurt by the dismissal, confused by the mixed messages he was sending and eaten up by guilt because she was so fatally attracted to a man who had done so much damage to her family, turned slowly.
Rafael watched her walk away, her slender back straight, her head held high. He waited for the door to close before he dragged a hand through his hair and groaned.
He could have had her here and now on the desk … His head fell back; he was a fool.
His rule was not to mix business and his private life; he had delivered a lecture on the evils of sexual harassment to every member of the football team, but when principles were this painful wasn’t it time to change the rules?
He wasn’t just her boss, though; he held the fate of her family in his hands. Would she dare say no? He grinned and thought she would dare say anything, but would that doubt remain—would it sour any future relationship?
An expression of shock spread across his lean face—future and relationship were two words he never used in connection with a woman.
Following her now would be admitting that this woman had got so deep under his skin that he couldn’t wait three weeks.
He needed a cooling-off period.
He pressed the intercom and
barked, ‘I will be going to Rio—arrange it.’
Rafael’s arrival mid-afternoon a week later at the London headquarters office coincided with the exit from the building of the regional manager, who did a double take when he saw Rafael.
Simon Smith rushed over. ‘Is there a problem?’ he asked, looking concerned.
Rafael took the hand extended towards him in a firm grip; his problem, the one that had brought him back five days ahead of schedule, was five feet five and redheaded.
The two men shook hands. ‘Your family is well?’ Rafael, not normally someone who felt the need to fill a silence when he had nothing to say, heard himself murmur the pleasantry.
To cover his own unacknowledged embarrassment?
The possibility did not improve his frame of mind. He could rationalise as much as he liked—nothing would alter the fact he was responding to his hormones with all the restraint of an adolescent.
There was a shade of puzzlement behind the older man’s smile as he responded. ‘Very well, thank you, although James is—’ He stopped, awkwardness creeping into his manner as he added with a laugh, ‘I’m sure you don’t want to know about his latest—’
The indent between Rafael’s brows deepened. ‘James …? Is he not the one who celebrated his twenty-first birthday at Christmas?’
Simon looked momentarily startled. He was amazed that his boss recalled he had children, let alone that he knew the age of his eldest. ‘You know how it is with children. No matter how old they are you still worry—’ He gave a shrug, regretting his comment. His employer’s opinion on the subject of professionalism and bringing personal problems into the workplace was well known.
‘No, I do not know,’ Rafael admitted shortly.
How could he? There had been no father figure in his life to worry about his choices or to guide him, not that Rafael felt the loss of something he had never had. He preferred to concentrate on the positive benefits he had gained from his unconventional upbringing.
His ability to make a decision and live with the consequences, good or bad, came from those years. Would a nuclear family have given him the sort of self-reliance that had been the bedrock of his success, Rafael doubted it.