Secret Millionaire
Kitty Alexander
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accordingly.
First published in 2014 by Kitty Alexander
Copyright © 2014 Kitty Alexander
Kitty Alexander has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the copyright owner.
Chapter One
The door buzzer sounded. Alexia didn’t look up from the worrying figures she was studying. Her boss couldn’t get back from maternity leave a minute too soon as far as she was concerned.
‘Wow! Take a look at this guy,’ said Julia, the Centre admin assistant. ‘Surely he’s not an alcoholic? What a waste! He is seriously hot.’
Now Alexia did look up – straight into a pair of pale silver eyes. Goose bumps spread right over her body. Wow, indeed.
The dark eyebrows above the pale silver eyes rose enquiringly and the man rang the doorbell again. With an effort, Alexia pulled herself together and got up. Julia was on the phone, holding to speak to someone at the Job Centre, otherwise Alexia knew she would have answered the door like a shot.
The doorbell rang again, a long, impatient-sounding ring. ‘Coming!’ Alexia called, going out to the lobby.
‘Can I…help you?’ Alexia’s voice faded away to nothing. If those magical pale eyes had been enough to give her goose bumps, then they were nothing to the full impact of the man. He was dressed in the uniform of pretty much all the men who came to The Heath Centre – tracksuit bottoms and polo shirt – but the casual clothes did nothing to hide his physique. Tall, with dark hair and broad shoulders tapering to slim hips, he was devastatingly attractive.
Alexia looked up into his face and attempted to speak again. ‘I’m…afraid we don’t open until nine-thirty,’ she said. She was both surprised and pleased to hear her voice come out steadily.
The man’s mouth stretched into a brief smile. It looked as if smiling didn’t come easily to him. The professional part of Alexia’s brain clicked in, making her notice his pale skin and the dark circles beneath those spectacular eyes.
‘I apologise for arriving early,’ the man said.
He didn’t sound sorry. In fact, there was more than an edge of sarcasm in his voice. But this didn’t surprise Alexia. People who used the Heath Centre were often antagonistic at first. They needed the staff to know they were there against their better judgement.
Alexia began to relax a little. All right, this man was attractive, but he was still a client, another like the hundreds she had met before – someone who needed help and wasn’t prepared to admit it yet. And Alexia never, ever, got involved with clients.
She smiled her confident, professional smile. ‘Don’t worry about it,’ she said. ‘It’s not long until nine-thirty. Come on in. I’m Alexia.’ She stood back, holding the door open for him to enter. As he moved past her, she caught the musky fragrance of shower gel.
‘I’m Mark,’ he said, holding out a hand. ‘Mark Brown.’
Alexia blinked away all thoughts of him in the shower before they could properly form. But then she went and spoiled it all by taking his hand to shake it. A red-hot ripple of heat flushed right through her body at the contact with his skin.
It was just as well that when Mark spoke again, his clipped words were like a cold bucket of water. ‘So, if someone in desperate need comes to see you at ten past nine before you’re open, that’s just their hard luck, is it?’ he asked.
Alexia flushed. Mark Brown might have stunning eyes and a great body, but he was also rude. And what was more, he was staring at her breasts…
‘Is that one of the charity’s sponsors?’ he asked, and only then did Alexia remember pulling on a T-shirt emblazoned with the slogan ‘Gro More’ when she got dressed that morning.
‘Yes,’ she said, feeling embarrassed. ‘It’s a fertilizer. We use it in the gardens.’ Aware that her voice had probably been a bit frosty, Alexia smiled her professional smile. ‘Our clients are always our first priority here at The Heath Centre, Mark,’ she said, doing her very best to keep her tone of voice light. ‘But we do try to get some paper work done before we open. It’s a tedious necessity, I’m afraid.’ She smiled again.
Mark Brown didn’t smile back. ‘Do you want me to come back later?’ he asked.
‘No, not at all. You’re here now. How can I help you? Do you want to register at the Centre?’
‘No, I’m looking to volunteer here,’ he said. ‘That is, if you need volunteers? I’ve got quite a range of skills to offer.’ His gaze dropped once again to the Gro-More slogan across her chest. ‘But perhaps I’d better speak to the centre manager?’
Once again, Alexia flushed. There had been something arrogant and dismissive about his tone of voice, and just for a moment she felt angry. Why had he assumed she wasn’t the manager? ‘I am the manager,’ she said. ‘That is, I’m the acting manager until Laura Tavistock gets back from maternity leave next week.’ She paused, looking at him challengingly. ‘Perhaps you’d prefer to see her then? I can make an appointment for you.’
Something flickered across Mark’s face. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’d like to start volunteering as soon as possible. Today, if you can use me?’
For some instinctive reason, Alexia wanted to say ‘no’. Mark Brown made her feel very uncomfortable. It wasn’t just the way he talked and the way he looked at her. The man was just too attractive for his own good. He was highly likely to distract all the female trainees. Not to mention Julia. God, Alexia would probably end up doing all Julia’s work for her! There was something else too – something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She had the distinct feeling he was hiding something. Though of course, the same thing could be said of most of the people who came through the centre doors. Most people here didn’t want to reveal everything about themselves.
But saying ‘no’ to help just wasn’t an option. The centre ran on a skeleton staff, and Alexia knew that Laura, had she been here, would have grabbed the opportunity for extra help with both hands.
‘We always need help at the Heath Centre,’ Alexia said. ‘Do you want to come this way? We’ll get some forms filled out, and then I’ll give you a tour.’
* * * * *
As Mark followed Alexia further into the building, his mind was in turmoil. A week ago he had been dressed in an Armani suit flying back from a Paris business meeting in his private jet. Now here he was, wearing a cheap tracksuit and about to mix with recovering alcoholics in a rehabilitation centre. It was crazy, and he was beginning to regret ever listening to his PA when she came up with the idea.
And then there was the Alexia factor. The sun had been shining on her hair when she’d opened the centre door to him, and he’d had to stop himself from drawing in a breath. Her hair was long, with a slightly rippling wave to it, and it was a rich copper brown, like the conkers that f
ell from the chestnut trees in his garden in the autumn. In short, Alexia’s hair was gorgeous. As were her eyes. A cool shade of green with warm golden flecks, Mark could hardly tear his gaze away from them. As a result, he knew he had been terse almost to the point of rudeness.
Well, that was no bad thing. If he was going to keep his true identity concealed, then there was no way he could get involved with anyone this week, even someone as attractive as Alexia. He was here to assess whether the Heath Centre deserved an injection of cash from his own private fortune, and he couldn’t afford to be distracted.
Besides, there was no way he could get involved with anyone anyway, with the kind of hours he worked. Mark had seen at first hand what long hours at work had done to many of his friend’s relationships. A life of divorce courts and seeing the kids every other weekend was most definitely not for him.
‘Actually, shall we do the tour first?’ Alexia was asking now, turning to look at him so that the ridiculous slogan on her T-shirt was once more on view.
If she was wearing the baggy shirt in an attempt to hide her figure, then she was wasting her time. If anything, it emphasized her curves. Especially with that slogan across her breasts.
Mark tried to smile. He hated feeling nervous. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he had. He was used to being in charge and in control, the master of his universe. But in this alien environment, he felt unprepared and inadequate. Except that this wasn’t a completely alien environment, was it? Oh, so he had never been inside a centre like this one, but he’d had plenty of contact with someone who would have benefited from being one of its clients.
Alexia was still waiting for his answer. Mark nodded. ‘Yes, thanks. A tour would be good.’
* * * * *
‘The Heath Centre provides training and work experience in three main areas,’ Alexia explained. ‘Computing, catering and horticulture.’ As she spoke, Alexia felt self-conscious. It was stupid – she’d shown loads of people around the Centre before. It was just that, with Mark looking at her, she felt as if she were acting. But then she was acting, wasn’t she? Acting the cool collected professional whose heart wasn’t racing like a steam train in response to Mark’s proximity.
It didn’t make sense to feel that way – after all she didn’t know the man at all. But somehow she just couldn’t help it. She couldn’t remember ever having felt so attracted to someone since Chris, and that was a good five years ago now.
‘I’ll show you the kitchens and the computer suite first, and then we can go out to the gardens.’
‘That sounds great.’
Alexia led the way to the kitchens, opening the door with the sense of pride she always felt when she went in there. The kitchens were of catering college standard, and were always left gleaming and spotlessly clean at the end of the day.
‘These facilities are excellent,’ said Mark, standing and looking around with approval.
Alexia looked at him. He was a tall man, and standing like that, with his hands on his hips as he considered everything thoroughly, he looked very commanding. Even with the tracksuit and that too-pale skin. Perhaps he had been successful once?
‘How did you finance all this?’
Alexia blinked. His question had surprised her. No, it wasn’t really the question, more the way he had asked it. ‘We made a successful funding application,’ she explained. ‘Although we had to do a lot of fund-raising ourselves too. Charities usually have to match any funding they receive. We always have to find ways to raise money. As you’ll see when I show you the computer suite.’
Mark was listening carefully to her every word, his gaze fixed intensely on her face. It was making her nervous. ‘You should have seen this place when we opened the centre five years ago,’ she babbled. ‘All there was in here was a battered old electric cooker and one sink. There weren’t even any worktops. And the floor! It was so greasy.’
The door opened behind Mark. Alexia was almost relieved to see the bearded face of Bert, one of the centre’s long-term users. Bert had an ongoing battle with alcohol that meant he had been coming and going to the Heath Centre for years.
‘Hi, Bert,’ she greeted him. ‘You remember when this floor was so slippery we could have used it as a skating rink, don’t you?’
Bert was standing stock still, looking at Mark. ‘We cleaned it up,’ he said simply.
Alexia smiled. ‘Yes, we did, didn’t we? On our hands and knees with scrubbing brushes. Bert, this is Mark Brown. He wants to start volunteering here.’
‘How do?’ said Bert with a nod.
Mark reached out a hand. Alexia saw Bert shake it reluctantly. Bert was never good at meeting new people, a factor that didn’t do him any favours when he attended job interviews. ‘Hi, Bert,’ Mark said. ‘Have you been coming to the Heath Centre for very long?’
Alexia winced slightly. It was a very direct question, especially when directed at someone like Bert. Some of the clients of The Heath Centre – Bert included – could be a bit unpredictable, and she hoped Bert wasn’t going to come out with a mouthful of abuse. It was perfectly possible.
‘Five years,’ Bert replied tersely.
Something flickered over Mark’s face. Alexia stepped in quickly. ‘We’d better get on with the tour,’ she said. ‘There’s a class starting in here soon. See you later, Bert.’
Alexia crossed the kitchen and held the door open for Mark to follow her. Out in the lounge area, people were beginning to gather for the start of the day.
‘Everybody,’ Alexia said to them all, ‘this is Mark. A new volunteer.’
Mark nodded. ‘Hello,’ he said, and Alexia saw his gaze sweep over everybody assessingly. Was there something judgemental about his expression? If so it wouldn’t be the first time she’d encountered it. People often tended to think of alcoholics as wasters and scroungers who didn’t try to help themselves. But she knew she would be disappointed if she discovered that Mark was cut from the same cloth. Face it, she told herself. You just don’t want to think he hasn’t got a perfect personality to match that perfect face and body.
‘Have you done any voluntary work before, Mark?’ Alexia asked as she led the way to the computer suite.
Mark seemed to pause before he answered. Alexia wondered why. It was a straightforward enough question. ‘No,’ he said finally. ‘But I’m really looking forward to it.’
Alexia paused outside the computer suite to look at him. ‘What do you hope to get from the experience?’ she asked.
Once again, Mark thought before he answered. ‘Exactly that,’ he said at last. ‘Experience. And knowledge.’
Alexia nodded, pushing the door to the computer suite open. ‘Yes, voluntary work can really boost your CV,’ she said. ‘I did some myself, before I got the job here.’
Mark was looking at her. Once again, Alexia felt a tingling response to him. ‘Did you?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ Alexia said, walking quickly into the room to make some distance between them. ‘I’d just finished my degree, but I had absolutely no useful work experience, and nobody wanted to give me a job.’ She knew she was babbling again, but somehow she just couldn’t stop.
‘What was your degree in?’ Mark asked.
Alexia smiled. ‘Landscape and Garden Design,’ she told him.
Mark raised his eyebrows and Alexia laughed. ‘When I’m not Acting Centre Manager, I’m in charge of the horticulture side of things at the Heath Centre. But before I came here, I volunteered for various charities to get some experience.’
‘Which charities?’
Alexia frowned. While it was flattering that Mark was interested in what she had to say, the direct question was similar to the way he had barked at Bert in the kitchen, asking him how long he had been coming to the centre. Clearly Mark needed to work on his people skills.
‘Well, charities focussing on the elderly to begin with,’ she said. ‘I helped people with their gardens. After that there was an opening to work with a hostel to make a commun
ity garden. Then the job came up here, and the rest, as they say, is history.’ She smiled at Mark. ‘But anyway, that’s enough about me. You’re supposed to be having a tour of the centre. This is the computer suite.’ Alexia moved her hand to indicate the room, which mostly consisted of piled up chairs and tables. ‘Or at least, it will be our computer suite. We need to raise some funds first.’
‘Which is why she’s stripping off in front of hundreds of people next week,’ Julia said, coming in through the door with a big smile for Mark.
Chapter Two
Alexia felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment. ‘I am not stripping off, as you put it. Honestly, Julia!’ Oh, hell. Mark was looking at her with those gorgeous, penetrating eyes again, and suddenly she felt stripped. It was somehow impossible not to imagine him looking at her naked body, and that was making her feel anything but professional. ‘You’ll give Mark the wrong idea!’
Julia laughed, quite unabashed, pointing to a poster on the wall. ‘Alexia’s taking part in this fundraiser on Thursday night,’ she explained. ‘Anyway, just came to see if you wanted a cup of tea. I’m Julia, by the way; the Centre Admin Assistant.’
‘Hi, Julia,’ said Mark.
‘No tea for me, thank you,’ Alexia told Julia coolly. ‘Mark?’
‘Not for me thanks.’
‘All right then,’ Julia said. ‘See you later.’ She gave a final flirtatious smile in Mark’s direction. ‘I hope.’
Julia’s smile was wasted on Mark; he was looking at the poster. Which was something, Alexia supposed. ‘It’s a fund-raising fashion show and dance,’ Alexia explained.
‘So I see,’ Mark said. ‘And you’re taking part?’
‘Most Nottingham charities are getting involved,’ Alexia said. ‘But I’m not stripping.’ She felt her face grow hot again. ‘That is, I am taking my clothes off, but only to put others on, if you see what I mean...’ Oh, shut up, Alexia, she told herself. You’re just making it worse!
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