by Penny Jordan
‘Initially I would recall the helicopter—no appointment, no meeting, no matter how essential, is so important that someone’s life should be put at risk, and if the machine was still in the process of being serviced there would be no guarantee that it would not develop some sort of problem. I would then contact the passenger, apologise for the delay and assure him that he would be picked up within fifteen minutes.’
She saw the way his eyebrows rose and added, with more self-assurance than she actually felt, ‘If he was being collected from a helicopter pad then it would have to be within range of a national helicopter service. I would obtain a substitute machine and pilot from my own contacts—if I regularly used helicopter transport I would, of course, already know of a reliable back-up service. I would make sure I was on hand the moment the VIP arrived, with both an apology and an explanation, and I would follow this up later, having first of all made sure that he was still able to leave at the originally stated time.’
‘And the original cause of the delay, the mistimed service, how would you deal with that?’
‘That would depend on whether or not I was responsible for its mistiming…’
‘And if you were?’
‘I wouldn’t be,’ Courage told him crisply. ‘Because I would have already made sure that the machine was ready for the pilot to collect at the stated time—and if it wasn’t I would have had a substitute serviced machine there for him.’
‘Very efficient.’
‘I try to be…’
He was already walking over to the door and Courage followed him, coming to an abrupt halt as, unexpectedly, he turned round.
There was less than a metre between them…
She had already seen that he was tall—at least six feet four since she had had to look up at him—and that the physique beneath his subtly tailored jacket possessed the kind of powerful muscle-structure that no desk-bound man could ever possibly have. This man worked out in a gym and he played sport—to win, Courage suspected, and roughly.
Through the polar whiteness of his cotton shirt she could actually see the dark shadow of his body hair. A small shudder ran through her, heat zigzagging through her body like lightning, searing along her cheekbones. She could feel her face burning with mortification as he looked at her.
There had been a time in her life when the sight of a bare male chest covered in body hair had been enough to make her want to curl up and die with embarrassed, shocked awareness of such sexuality—and her own reaction to it. But that had been a long time ago and she had got over it… Just as she had got over…other things.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘N-n-n-nothing,’ Courage lied. ‘I—’
‘Don’t you want to know whether or not you have got the job?’
He was playing with her, taunting her. Angry sparks flashed in Courage’s eyes.
‘You said yourself that I was over-qualified for it.’
‘Which means that I’d be a fool not to snap you up, doesn’t it? When can you start?’
As she fought to control the jumble of confused thoughts and emotions stampeding wildly through her, Courage was still aware of her apparent new employer’s watchful scrutiny of her. It was as though he was looking for some kind of specific reaction, the angle of his head, his jawline as he studied her… The angle of his head?
She frowned, desperately trying to catch hold of the tail-end of the vague wisp of dark memory which still eluded her. It was no use, it was gone. But she had the job, and that was what she ought to be concentrating on right now, not some uncomfortable feeling that there was something somehow familiar to her about her new boss.
Familiar but not familiar-pleasant, or even familiar-indifferent, she acknowledged half an hour later as she drove home in her grandmother’s ancient Morris. No, the kind of familiarity which had stirred so elusively through her was the kind that carried with it un-comfortable feelings of fear and anxiety.
Frowning, Courage changed gear for a sharp bend. There was no point in worrying about it. Wherever it was she had seen him before it would come back to her sooner or later. And, after all, she didn’t have to like the man; she simply had to work for him.
Ideally, he might not be her choice of employer, but that was hardly important; what was important was being able to be close to her grandmother. She was only sixty-seven—not old at all, really—and if Courage could just persuade her to take things more easily until she could have the operation…
The salary Gideon Reynolds had offered her had been astonishingly generous, far more than she had been earning—when he had mentioned the figure he would be paying her her mouth had dropped slightly.
‘What’s wrong?’ he had asked her. ‘Isn’t it as much as you already earn?’
‘It’s more,’ Courage had told him honestly—and had caught the quickly suppressed flicker of surprise in his own eyes. ‘It seems a lot to pay someone for the amount of work involved.’
‘A good workman is always worthy of his hire,’ Gideon had responded smoothly. ‘And I promise you won’t find that the job is any sinecure.’
‘I shouldn’t want to,’ Courage had countered promptly.
What was it about the man that made her feel as though he was constantly challenging her, constantly probing…? Constantly testing her, almost…
As she turned off the main road and into the lane which led to her grandmother’s cottage her frown deepened. Why had Gideon Reynolds been so surprised by her honesty? Surely he wouldn’t have employed her if he had felt that he couldn’t trust her?
Stop worrying about him, she advised herself mentally, and start worrying instead about what Gran’s going to say when she hears your news.
CHAPTER TWO
‘YOU’VE done what? But why? You’ve always said how much you love your job… The travel, meeting different people, the—’
‘Yes, I know, Gran, but things have changed,’ Courage told her, frowning as she saw the small set of step-ladders standing next to the large old-fashioned dresser which dominated one wall of her grandmother’s kitchen.
‘What are those doing there?’ she demanded accusingly.
‘What does it look like? It’s time that dresser had a good clean. The awful weather stopped me getting on with my usual spring cleaning, and it’s high time I got down to it…’
‘Gran, you haven’t been climbing those steps? You know what the specialist said,’ Courage scolded her worriedly.
‘Yes, I know,’ her grandmother agreed grimly. ‘But if you think I’m going to spend the rest of my days being wrapped in cotton wool and treated like a semi-invalid… I’ve got a minor heart condition, that’s all…’
If only that were the case.
‘And if you think I’m going to let you give up your job because of me…’
‘I’m not,’ Courage was quick to reassure her, mentally crossing her fingers as she added untruthfully, ‘The hotel trade has been hit very badly by the recession, Gran. I didn’t want to say anything before and worry you but… Well, there’s been a lot of talk about enforced redundancies…’
‘Is that why you got that part-time job at the supermarket?’ her grandmother questioned her.
‘Yes,’ Courage told her. Originally she had told her grandmother that her three-month stay with her would be too much for both of them if they spent every second in one another’s company, and that her part-time job would give them both a bit of space.
‘This new job will give me a chance to broaden my experience. I’ll be in full charge of the organisation of the household for all his social and business events. Apparently, one of the reasons he bought the estate was to use it for business purposes; his Japanese customers in particular enjoy that kind of thing.’
‘What is his business, exactly?’ her grandmother asked her.
‘His company designs parks and gardens on a large scale rather than a small one. You know the kind of thing—municipal open spaces, hotel grounds, atriums. He does a lot of business in the
Middle East—especially Kuwait. Apparently he’s an expert in “greening” arid areas, and his assistant was telling me that he’s been consulted by the authorities in Australia and California following the fires they’ve had there. He has an office in London but apparently he’s presently in the process of moving everything down here.’
‘Mmm… Well, from what I’ve heard he’s an extremely shrewd businessman, and very single-minded when it comes to getting what he wants. When does he want you to start work?’
‘Next Monday. I’ve got an appointment with him on Friday afternoon to sign my contract of employment and go over the way he wants me to work. Apparently he’s flying out to New York on Monday morning, so he won’t be there, and he won’t be back until later in the week.’
‘Mmm… Well, if you’re sure it’s what you want…’
‘I’m sure,’ Courage told her firmly.
It was just as well she had left herself plenty of extra time to make the appointment, Courage acknowledged wryly, as the Morris had stubbornly refused to start. She had had to ring for a taxi and then book the Morris into the garage for a service. It was just as well that a car was one of the perks of her new job.
She noticed that Chris Elliott’s smile was only slightly warmer as the PA opened the front door to her.
‘He’s in the study waiting for you,’ he told Courage. ‘His new Californian appointment has been brought forward. Congratulations on getting the job, by the way.’
‘Thank you.’ Courage responded to his smile with one of her own—one of equally tepid warmth.
From what Gideon Reynolds had told her her job ran parallel to Chris’s, not either below or above it, but she suspected that the PA would try to manoeuvre himself into a slightly superior position to her if he thought he could. She had no wish to get involved in any kind of power struggle with him, but neither was she going to allow him to manipulate her.
It was a warm spring day, and Courage had opted for a slightly more casual but still businesslike outfit than the one she had had on for her initial interview: a soft, spotted silk culotte suit, in brown with cream spots, and a toning cream short-sleeved jacket. Like her ‘Chanel’, she had had it made in Hong Kong.
As she knocked briefly on the half-open study door, and then walked in on Gideon’s command, she noticed him looking briefly at her legs in an automatic male reflex gesture. Nothing was particularly personal in the brief look he gave her, but nevertheless it made her wish she had worn a longer skirt—and tights. Not because of his look but because of her own reaction to it. She was acutely conscious of the tiny frisson of unwanted sensation that ran quickly across her skin.
‘Please sit down,’ Gideon commanded her. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of time. My Californian appointment has been brought forward and I’m flying out tonight instead of on Monday. Here’s a copy of your contract. If you’d like to read through it…’
Dutifully Courage took the document from him, reading it as quickly as she could. She had just got to the bottom of the penultimate page when she stopped abruptly, lifting her head in astonishment.
‘What’s this?’ she demanded uncertainly. ‘You didn’t say anything about making me a loan of ten thousand pounds when you interviewed me.’
‘I didn’t think about it until after you’d gone,’ Gideon told her dismissively. ‘In fact, it wasn’t until I was drawing up the contract that it occurred to me that by advancing you a part of your salary it would enable you to arrange for your grandmother’s operation.’
‘Advancing part of my salary?’ Courage protested. ‘But…’
‘If you read on you’ll see that the contract covers a two-year period with five thousand being deducted from each year’s salary to repay the loan, which will be interest-free as it is as much in my interest as it is your own.’
‘As much in your interest?’ Courage’s forehead creased, pleated in a small frown. ‘I’m sorry, but I just don’t understand how…’
‘As you’ll soon discover, once you start working for me, I demand one hundred and twenty per cent concentration all day, every day from my employees… That’s what I pay them for. I do not want their minds wandering to personal matters while they’re supposed to be concentrating on their work. Therefore, it makes sense to do all that I can to ensure that their minds do not have cause to wander. It’s obvious from what you told me that you are extremely concerned about your grandmother’s health—to the point, I suspect, where there could be occasions when your concern for her could have a detrimental effect on your work. And that is something I do not want.’
‘But you said nothing about offering me a loan when you offered me the job,’ Courage protested, still not totally able to take in what she had just read.
‘Simply because at the time it hadn’t occurred to me. However, if you feel you’d prefer not to take it, I can…’
‘No, no, of course not… I…I’m very grateful to you for… It has come as such a shock… I wasn’t expecting…’
To Courage’s embarrassment she could feel her eyes suddenly starting to fill with tears as her throat closed up with emotion.
It was just beginning to dawn on her what Gideon Reynold’s offer of a loan would mean. Her grand-mother could have her operation; her life would no longer be in jeopardy. And she would have to remain here working for Gideon Reynolds for the next two years.
Courage frowned. Why should that knowledge daunt her? She knew she was up to the job—more than up to it… So what was it that bothered her? And something did, she knew that from the small sinking feeling which had followed her initial sense of stunned relief. Was it the man himself, Gideon Reynolds who daunted her? But why? Why should he?
She had come across powerful, egocentric men before—plenty of them. She had come across sexually magnetic men before, as well. Yes, but none of them had been quite so… None of them had been… None of them had caused that small, shocking quiver of sexual sensation which had raced through her when she had seen Gideon Reynolds looking at her legs. Was that what she was trying to tell herself?
Oh, come on, she derided herself mentally. He caught you off-guard, that’s all. He looked, you responded—that’s all. It doesn’t mean anything. Not to you and certainly not to him.
She could see Gideon flicking back his cuff and glancing frowningly at his watch, a none too subtle reminder to her that he was in a hurry.
She looked back down at the contract. Ten thousand pounds. It would be enough to cover the cost of Gran’s operation, and with the rest of her salary there would be something to provide for her recuperation. She’d been a complete idiot even to think of not accepting. For Gran’s sake, as well as her own.
It was just that it had come as such a shock and she had been so unprepared, she decided ten minutes later as she handed her signed contract back to Gideon. That was why, instead of feeling euphoric and overjoyed, she felt oddly tense and anxious.
She didn’t like having surprises sprung upon her, even pleasant ones. Just as she didn’t like being in situations over which she did not have at least some control. No doubt an analyst would tell her that her apprehension, her fear, sprang from the time of her mother’s second marriage.
‘Good. I’ve got the cheque here for you.’
Shakily Courage focused on Gideon Reynolds’ face as he reached into a drawer at the side of his desk and removed a cheque.
Three things struck her as he handed it to her, all of them slightly disturbing. The first was that the cheque was drawn on his personal account, the second that he had obviously been sure enough of her acceptance to have had it made out already, and the third that there was something almost gloating in the unexpectedly brilliant gleam of his eyes as he handed the cheque over to her.
Just for a moment Courage had the oddest impulse to hand it back to him, to tell him that she had changed her mind. What if their working relationship didn’t work out and she was committed to a two-year contract and no way of paying the loan back? But she found her
self accepting the cheque, smiling her thanks and pushing her worries to the back of her mind.
‘I shall be leaving shortly, but Chris will show you round the house so that you can familiarise yourself with its lay-out. I shall be returning from California on Wednesday, if all goes to plan. On Thursday evening I shall be holding a dinner party for twenty or so guests, some of whom will be staying overnight. Chris will fill you in with all the details. Oh, and I’ve also given him instructions to arrange for a couple of cars to be delivered for you to test-drive.’
Without realising she had been doing so, Courage had been playing with the chain on the small seed-pearl locket which hung around her neck. Her father had given it to her mother as an engagement present, and when she had gone to live with her grandmother her mother had given it to her. Courage wore it all the time and a small, distressed protest left her lips as the chain suddenly snapped under the pressure of her nervous fingers, the locket spinning across the desk towards Gideon Reynolds.
Courage reached out to retrieve it, but Gideon moved faster, covering it, stopping its escape with his hands just seconds ahead of her, so that it was impossible for her to stop the downward movement of her own fingers which brought them on top of his.
Immediately she was aware of the male warmth of his flesh. It made her own skin tingle in shocked awareness of the tremendous physical power in the lean strength of his fingers. Her own hand looked tiny against his, her flesh so much paler and softer. The tingle became a hot, fast burn.
A pulse suddenly started to beat very rapidly in her throat, her face flushing in a sudden surge of sexual heat so shocking and unexpected that it was several betraying seconds before she could respond to it and snatch her fingers from his, breaking the magnetic contact. She had not felt so physically aware of a man since—