Secretary by Day, Mistress by Night
Page 3
But now she worried that if Blaise Walker didn’t make his meeting with Jonathan because he had given her a lift to the station then Jonathan would no doubt hold her completely responsible. Retribution in some form or other would quickly follow…maybe even manifesting itself in his refusal to give her a reference for her next job with her employment agency. It would be highly unfair and irregular, in light of Maya’s unblemished employment record, but Jonathan was more than capable of it—and worse.
‘I’ll ring him later. I’m pretty sure our Mr Faraday won’t lift his head off the pillow until lunchtime at least…if even then,’ Blaise remarked nonchalantly, dropping his hands to his hips. ‘In any case, after what I witnessed last night, any inclination I may have had to let your boss do my PR has definitely disappeared. One hears things about people. As a rule I don’t believe in listening to gossip, but having seen for myself the way the man conducts himself I’ve come to realise that much of the talk about him is probably quite close to the truth. The meeting I do eventually have with him won’t be the one he was hoping for, I’m afraid. Now…are these all your bags?’
Staring uncomfortably down at her soft canvas holdall, and the small leather tote bag that housed amongst other things her make-up, book and reading glasses, Maya was genuinely taken aback at the idea that Blaise had deplored Jonathan’s treatment of her and was showing his displeasure by withdrawing his agreement to let his agency do his publicity. She realised she’d been nursing a real fear that he would side with her boss when it came to believing any attractive woman that worked for him was fair game. But now she also wrestled with the idea of allowing a man she barely knew, and who could potentially turn out to be just like some of those mercenary acquaintances of her father’s—self-obsessed and making no bones about going after what they wanted no matter who they might hurt in the process—to drive her home.
Lifting her concerned emerald gaze to his, she frowned.
‘You really don’t have to bother, Mr Walker—’
‘Blaise,’ he insisted.
‘It’s easy enough for me to get a cab. At least then I won’t disturb the rest of your weekend.’
‘Oh, but you have disturbed me, Maya,’ he answered enigmatically, a glint in his eyes that made her insides clench, ‘but that’s hardly your fault. Come on—let’s get you to the station. I’ll carry your bags.’
‘Really…’ Still unsure, she grimaced. ‘It might be better in the long run if I just phoned for a cab.’
‘If you’re worried that I might have a tendency to behave in any way, shape or form like your disreputable boss then please let me assure you right now your concerns are groundless. I personally like my women willing, and I’ve never had to force one into my bed yet!’
Reddening at his frank confession, Maya shrugged and attempted a smile. ‘Okay…’
Outside, a watery sun had broken through the early-morning clouds, and on the gravel drive where Jonathan’s esteemed guests had parked a selection of gleaming and expensive vehicles Blaise Walker headed for a dazzling fire-engine-red classic open-topped MG sports car. Go-to-hell red, as her father had used to call that particular shade. Maya fielded the unexpected memory, but wasn’t quick enough to suppress the little knot of tension that squeezed inside her.
Instantly Blaise picked up on her disquiet. ‘Is anything the matter? Perhaps you were expecting something a little more sedate for your ride to the station?’
‘I had no expectations at all,’ Maya replied evenly. ‘I’m just grateful for the lift.’
He replaced his concern with a captivating grin, and the sight brought the same sense of wonder with it to Maya as reaching the end of a frightening rollercoaster ride and realising that you’d survived. A feeling of totally giddy exhilaration flooded her body. In all her twenty-five years on the planet she’d never witnessed a smile as dazzling or as wildly, extraordinarily beautiful as that.
‘You might want to find something to tie your hair back with,’ Blaise suggested now. ‘Could get a little windswept otherwise.’
Checking through her tote as he opened the rather compact boot in order to deposit her luggage, and seeing his own expensive bag ensconced there—was he leaving this morning too?—Maya produced a slender multi-coloured chiffon scarf and proceeded to tie her flowing dark hair up into a loosely fashioned ponytail.
‘That okay?’
‘You look adorable.’ Her companion grinned. ‘Get in and make yourself comfortable. The door’s unlocked.’
Folding her long-legged, slender, jean-clad frame into the passenger seat, Maya relaxed as far as she was able in the small space provided. Easing back into the softly luxurious leather seat, she silently admired the immaculate burr walnut veneer that covered the dash and centre console, and the amazing craftsmanship that had produced what her father had once informed her was one of the country’s bestselling sports cars ever.
He should have known, because when she was little he had owned two of them—one in red, like this, and another in black. Of course they were long gone now. Sold to help pay off some of the horrendous debts his wildly reckless lifestyle had accrued…
Hearing the lid of the boot slam, she turned to see Blaise lower his own tall, athletic, black-clad frame into the driver’s seat. Even though his legs were long, like hers, Maya was quietly amazed at how effortless he made every movement look…like a sublime symphony…every note in perfect accord and nothing remotely out of sync. A waft of quietly stirring aftershave imbued with sultry notes of sandalwood and musk assailed senses already tested to their limit by his charismatic presence. She tried to steel herself against it.
‘This is a concourse model, isn’t it?’ she commented, her fingertips lightly touching the walnut veneer on the dash.
‘Yes, it is. It’s an original model, but I paid a small fortune to get everything restored down to the last nut and bolt back to the way it was. You know about classic cars?’ her companion asked in surprise.
‘Not really. I just knew someone once who had a model like this.’ Maya stared out through the windscreen instead of into the disturbing blue eyes that seemed to be playing such havoc with her insides. The huskily soft chuckle beside her was equally disconcerting.
‘You probably know a lot more than you’re admitting, right? That’s okay…I don’t mind you being a woman of mystery. It simply makes me want to get to know you even more.’
He shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was even more alluring and beautiful dressed in jeans and a simple white cotton shirt than she’d been in that eyepopping black dress that had paid such mouthwatering homage to her curves last night. And that dress had caused him one hell of a sleepless night, he recalled now, his hands tightening on the MG’s steering wheel. Seeing Jonathan Faraday’s drunken paws all over her had also been a factor in ensuring Blaise’s sleep was fitful. He had been a breath away from laying the man out flat. Maya had clearly been frightened by Faraday’s clumsy inebriated attentions, and all his latent protective instincts towards women had rushed to the fore. She would have had only to indicate to him by a mere glance that she wanted him to step in and her licentious boss would have been nursing much more than a hangover this morning.
When he was about ten years old, Blaise’s actor father had struck his mother savagely across the face during one of their many bitter rows—an event that, after that shocking first time, had become a more or less regular feature of his childhood, he was sorry to say. Blaise had leapt on him, kicking and screaming. He had truly wanted to kill him at that moment. The same strong feelings of fury and resentment had roared through his bloodstream last night in the corridor, when he’d seen Jonathan behave like some despicable Neanderthal.
Now Blaise realised just how much the bewitching Maya Hayward had been on his mind since she’d inadvertently burst in on him in the drawing room last evening, leaving a trail of sexy perfume in her wake and stirring the kind of fantasies that would be strictly rated ‘adults only’. He definitely wanted to get to k
now her better. It had been quite some time since he’d enjoyed an exciting affair, and this could potentially be his most exciting liaison yet.
When he’d found her in the hall searching through the phonebook the pure raw desire that had coursed through him had been fierce enough to almost make him stumble. Now he realised Jonathan Faraday’s loss was definitely his gain, and he made no apology for the mercenary-sounding realisation whatsoever…
At some point during the journey it started to rain, and Blaise had no choice but to put the MG’s top up. His bewitching passenger didn’t even notice, however. To his surprise and amusement she’d fallen asleep—head on one side and her soft breathing making him feel strangely calm and peaceful—as he smoothly steered the vehicle onto the motorway heading towards London. Almost straight away he had decided he would forgo the ride to the station and take her all the way home instead. The faintest suggestion of a smile touched his lips. It had been worth staying at Faraday’s house last night to now have the opportunity that had opened up to him. The only possible impediment to him getting to know Maya more intimately, he mused, was if there was a man in her life already. The idea caused a totally disproportionate stab of jealousy to slice through his middle.
Glancing sidelong at her now, he let his gaze skim the arresting, fulsome curve of her breast nestling beneath crisp white cotton, and the long, slender length of her denim-clad thigh. The hot, sweet need that immediately surged through Blaise’s bloodstream made him clench his jaw to contain it, and it was only out of pure necessity and commonsense that he returned his full attention back to the road…
She felt warm and safe, and the sound of the rain pattering on the roof somehow gave her a wonderful sense of inviolability and protection. The experience was so delicious that Maya just wanted to stay there, eyes shut tight against the world, for a little while longer, reluctant to surface from sleep and even face the day at all…
But suddenly a strongly disturbing instinct made her peer out from beneath her drowsy lids—only to find that she wasn’t in her bed at home, but in a car, being driven on the motorway at quite a lick in the outside lane. Beside her was a man with the chiselled profile of a model. Her heart pounded in shock.
‘How long have I been asleep?’ Her voice was husky and she sounded like someone else. Sitting up straight, she adjusted her previously cramped position with a relieved groan.
‘Practically since we started out.’ A fleeting grin appeared on her companion’s carved, compelling features.
Maya stared. ‘Was the station closed or something?’
‘No. It wasn’t closed. I just decided to take you to London myself. It’s no big deal. I came to the conclusion that I should head home to Primrose Hill anyway, so it’s not too far out of my way.’
‘You have a place in London too? I thought Jonathan told me you lived in Northumberland?’
‘I do. But when I’m working at the theatre it makes sense to stay in town. A play of mine has just completed a six-month run and will soon be on its way to Broadway, so I’ll be going back to Northumberland in the meantime to rest and continue working on my latest project. Whereabouts in Camden are you situated?’
Maya told him, with not a little sense of unreality in her voice. Her softly shaped dark brows drew together in genuine puzzlement.
‘I can’t believe I fell asleep like that. It must have been all that upset last night. I don’t think I slept a wink afterwards, to tell you the truth. But to fall asleep with someone I hardly even know driving me…that’s a first!’
Briefly Blaise turned his head to survey her. ‘I hope we can very soon rectify the fact that you hardly know me, Maya. It should be fairly obvious to you by now that I’d very much like to see you again?’
She fell silent for a moment. ‘You mean like on a date?’
Digesting this bombshell, twin feelings of surprise and apprehension flooded her.
‘Is that so shocking?’ Directing the MG into a long line of traffic heading towards Greenwich, Blaise smiled.
‘Not shocking, exactly…but I am surprised, yes.’
‘And are you pleased or not pleased about it? Maybe you’re seeing someone already?’ he fished.
It had been two years since Maya had been in a relationship. A relationship in which her trust in someone had been utterly violated. The memory was still liable to churn her guts from time to time whenever she thought about it.
‘I’m not seeing anyone else. But then I’m not really interested in dating at the moment. Particularly as I’ve probably just talked myself out of a job! There’s no guarantee that my agency will have another position for me straight away, and I might have to look round other places as well.’
‘Do you enjoy working for Faraday?’ Blaise’s voice was definitely disgruntled.
‘Not for him personally…but I have enjoyed working with my fellow colleagues and the job itself.’
‘Well, then, let’s not jump the gun here, shall we?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘There hasn’t been any mention of you being let go yet, has there?’
‘No, but—’
‘Then why don’t you cross that bridge when you come to it? Right now it’s all hypothetical. If you really want to keep your job then I’ll have a word with Faraday myself and tell him it was me that made you leave early. There shouldn’t be a problem. Although why you would want to work anywhere near the man is beyond me!’
‘It’s kind of you, but you don’t need to talk to him on my behalf. Besides…’ Maya shrugged awkwardly. ‘I left him a note telling him that I couldn’t work for him any longer after what happened, and if I take back what I said to try and ameliorate the situation then no doubt he’ll endeavour to make my life as miserable as possible as a punishment. No…it’s probably for the best that I leave. I wasn’t exactly ecstatic at being asked to work for a PR agency anyway.’
‘Why was that?’
‘I’m just not mad about celebrity culture, I suppose.’
‘Can’t say I blame you.’ Blaise grimaced a little. ‘But if you’re going to be free for a while then you’ll have time to make a date with me to go out to dinner…right?’
CHAPTER THREE
MAYA had directed Blaise to pull up in front of a slim four-storeyed house in a narrow side-street not far from Camden Lock. The area was a Mecca for locals and tourists, flocking to the outdoor and indoor markets selling an eclectic mix of crafts, jewellery, music, clothing and artefacts from all round the world. The soft late summer rain had long since ceased, and the sun had made a welcome reappearance. With the sports car’s top rolled down again it was easy to detect the exotic aromas of food, incense and the other myriad scents that permeated the air.
The surrounding pavements and roads were heaving with cars and people, and it had taken quite some time to negotiate the busy, packed streets to reach Maya’s address. But now they were there, and Blaise realised his stomach was clenched tight as a drum as he lifted her bags from the boot of the car, waiting expectantly—not to mention a little impatiently—for her to finally address the question of a dinner date. He could already tell by the vibes he was getting that she had no intention of inviting him in for a coffee or anything like that and, resigning himself to the fact, he had to irritably bite back his frustration.
‘Well…thanks so much for driving me all the way home. It was above and beyond the call of duty and very sweet of you.’
Sweet? Blaise almost choked on the ironic laughter that bubbled up inside him. Should he regard such a comment as a compliment, or as a sign that he’d definitely lost his touch? Smiling ruefully at the lovely brunette in front of him, he couldn’t help noticing the anxiety reflected in her mesmerising green gaze, and he was intensely curious as to the cause of it. Had some other jerk like Faraday messed around with her? Hurt her, perhaps? The knot in his stomach gripped even tighter.
‘It was my pleasure. Perhaps you’ll think about meeting up again some time soon?’ He was fishing in
his wallet for a business card. ‘I’ll be in London at least until the end of next week. After that I’m returning to Hexham.’
‘Hexham?’
‘It’s a market town near where I live in Northumberland.’
She took the card he proffered and folded it in her hand without so much as a glance. ‘I will. I’ll definitely think about it.’
Would she? Contemplating that she might not was definitely a massive blow to Blaise’s pride. To practically be given the brush-off by a woman he’d made it more than clear that he liked was something that had never happened before, and was not an experience he was in a hurry to replicate.
‘Well…’ he shrugged his powerful shoulders with pretended good humour ‘…that’s all I can ask. Take care of yourself, and don’t worry about Faraday. You’ll have no problem finding another position—I’m sure of it. And if you do—give me a call and I’ll see what I can do.’ Lightly he clasped her arms, sensing her bewitching perfume sensually invading him. Then he kissed her continental style, on both cheeks, and moved away. ‘Goodbye, Maya.’
‘Goodbye. Drive safely.’
As he gunned the engine and roared away from the kerb, Blaise saw in his rearview mirror that she stood on the pavement, watching him. Grimly he clenched his jaw, ruthlessly brushing aside any doubt or imagined obstacles that might arise to prevent him seeing her. Of course he would see her again! Now that he knew where she lived, why the hell should he not?
For the first time since setting eyes on Blaise Walker that morning Maya finally felt as if she could breathe freely again. Never before had a man unsettled her and yet perversely commanded her attention quite as much. It seriously troubled her. No doubt if her friends found out he’d given her a lift home they’d think she was mad for not agreeing to a date! But then none of them had experienced what Maya had experienced in associating with people from similar privileged circumstances. People who were part of an elite, almost oppressive circle of wealth, fame and privilege that was a million light years from the kind of ordinary lives Maya and her friends lived…Wolves in sheep’s clothing, as her young teenage self had thought of them. All glitz on the outside but frighteningly shallow and cruel within.