The millionaire's agenda

by Kathryn Ross

  He followed her out onto the landing. ‘While we’re up here I’ll show you your room,’ he said cordially as he led the way further down the landing and opened another door.

  Chloe glanced around, noting the restful lilac colour on the walls and the white bed linen on the enormous double bed. ‘Gina sometimes uses it if she has to stay over when I’m away on business. There’s an en suite bathroom through there.’ He nodded to a door at the far side of the built-in wardrobes. ‘Just make yourself at home. Go and have a shower if you want…that’s what I’m going to do now.’

  ‘OK…thanks.’ She smiled at him and then felt that awkward sensation of awareness again. What the hell was the matter with her? she wondered. Maybe it was just the unusual situation. She was used to standing across a desk from him, discussing work. Finding herself in a whole different environment was bound to make her a bit edgy, a bit shy of him. Possibly that was what had been wrong with her back in Beth’s room as well, she realised suddenly.

  ‘I won’t be long.’ As Steven headed into his bedroom Chloe made her way downstairs. There was no point having a shower now, she thought, because she had nothing to change into.

  She made a pot of tea and quickly made some sandwiches with some ham she had found in the fridge earlier. Then as she waited for the tea to brew she flicked through the CDs sitting beside the small music centre. Steven had similar taste in music to her, she noticed, and on impulse she put one in the CD player and pressed ‘play’.

  Upstairs in his room, Steven heard the distant sound of the haunting romantic ballad and he frowned. The song that was playing had been his wife’s favourite. He remembered when they had first been married how he’d used to tease her about the fact that she played it over and over again…

  He saw her green eyes laughing at him.

  He took off the jacket of his suit and then his tie, trying to ignore the prickling sensation that was running down his spine. Chloe was nothing like his late wife. He was just tired and Stephanie was close to his mind because of the anniversary…that was all it was.

  Chloe flicked the ‘repeat’ button so that the song would play over again. She hadn’t heard the tune in ages and it was one of her favourites. She stared out at the snow falling past the kitchen window, so white against the blackness of the sky.

  She wondered where Nile was. He could at least have got in contact to explain about the money, to apologise. Surely he owed her that much?

  The music snapped off behind her and she whirled around. Steven was next to the music centre.

  ‘Sorry, Steven…was that disturbing Beth?’

  ‘No, Beth could sleep through an earthquake.’ He hesitated for a second before adding, ‘I’ve just got a bit of a headache.’

  ‘Probably all that paperwork today.’ Chloe went across to pour the tea.

  ‘I think I’ll have something a bit stronger than tea,’ Steven said, opening one of the cupboards. ‘I’ve got a bottle of whisky in here…somewhere.’

  Chloe was about to tell him that if he had a headache whisky was not the best thing to drink, then thought better of the comment. Steven didn’t need her counsel.

  She noticed that he had changed into jeans and a blue shirt and his hair was still damp from the shower. Chloe had never seen him dressed in such casual attire before; it suited him—made him look more boyishly attractive.

  ‘Care to join me?’ Steven asked, looking up from his perusal of the drinks cupboard.

  She shook her head. ‘I’ll stick to the tea,’ she said with a smile. ‘I’m not a whisky drinker.’

  ‘In fact, no bad habits at all?’

  ‘I wouldn’t go that far.’ She wondered if there had been a dry edge to that question. Did Steven Cavendish think she was boring? The idea needled her. ‘In fact, I’ve got more than my fair share of faults.’

  His eyebrows rose. ‘Name one, then?’ he asked with a grin.

  ‘I could name loads,’ she retorted swiftly, ‘but, as you’re my boss, I don’t think that would be a very good idea.’

  His dark eyes glimmered with amusement. ‘You’re on your best behaviour around me…is that it?’

  ‘Of course.’

  He smiled and turned back to his contemplation of the cupboard. ‘How about a glass of red wine, then?’ He held up a bottle and looked around at her. ‘Come on, help me out—am I sailing anywhere near a weakness here?’

  She laughed at the absurdity of the question and then found herself acceding. ‘A glass of red wine would be nice.’

  ‘Great; I hate to drink alone.’ Steven transferred the drinks and his sandwiches onto a tray. ‘Let’s go and sit in the other room and relax for a moment.’

  The lounge was in darkness. Chloe turned on one of the side lamps as Steven put the tray down and went over to stoke up the fire.

  She sat in one of the comfortable royal-blue chairs and watched as he encouraged the dying embers in the grate then threw on a few logs. As the blaze sprang to life the flames hissed and spat greedily in the silence of the room.

  ‘There’s nothing like a real fire,’ she murmured.

  ‘There’s something romantic about it, isn’t there?’ he agreed. ‘During the day we have to keep the fireguard on because of Beth, but in the evening, when she’s in bed, it’s nice to sit and gaze into the flames.’

  By ‘we’ she presumed he was referring to Helen.

  He sat on the floor and opened the bottle of red wine before leaving it to warm by the flames for a moment. ‘If this snow keeps up I doubt I’ll be able to go to Manchester tomorrow.’

  ‘I thought you said a little bit of snow wouldn’t affect the company jet?’ she reminded him light-heartedly.

  He glanced up at her and grinned. ‘I was wrong, wasn’t I?’

  ‘Gosh, Mr Cavendish is admitting to being wrong!’ She turned laughing eyes towards the patio windows. ‘Are there pigs flying around out there in that snow?’

  ‘Less of the sarcasm, Ms Brown,’ he reprimanded with a glint of humour in his eyes. ‘May I remind you that according to that little speech you made in the kitchen you are supposed to be on your best behaviour around me?’

  ‘Sorry…don’t know what came over me.’ With a smile she settled herself even more comfortably in her chair. ‘Must be approaching the witching hour or something.’

  Steven smiled back and leaned against a chair as he poured the wine. ‘Tell you what, I’m glad it is approaching the witching hour; I’ve seen enough of that office over these last few weeks to last me a lifetime.’

  ‘It has been very tense in there,’ Chloe agreed. She took off her glasses and put them down next to her on the coffee table.

  ‘So let’s drink to Friday, then,’ Steven suggested lightly as he passed her wine across to her. ‘And my wonderful PA, of course, without whom my office would disintegrate into chaos.’ He raised his own glass in salute.

  Smiling, she took a sip of the wine; it was warm and mellow against her throat.

  For a while they sat in companionable silence. The room was in semi-darkness, and she glanced around, admiring the elegance of the decor.

  All the rooms were very big in this house, possibly because it had been built in a bygone era, where style and space had been more important than practical considerations such as how much the land cost. She admired the beautifully framed watercolours on the plain cream walls, the Louis XV fireplace and the ornate marble surround, the huge mirror stretching up to the ornate coving around the high ceilings.

  ‘You have a beautiful home,’ she remarked absently.

  He smiled. ‘You sound as if you’ve never been here before.’

  ‘Well, they have always been flying visits, haven’t they? Usually when we are both so stretched with work that we’ve had to use every available minute to catch up with things by working from your office here.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose you are right.’ He glanced over at her thoughtfully. ‘I rely on you quite heavily sometimes, don’t I?’

  She shrugg
ed. ‘No more than any other boss relies on his PA.’

  Steven decided that wasn’t quite true. Thinking that Chloe was leaving today had made him review exactly what he had with her.

  He watched the way the firelight played over her face. Her skin had a smooth, creamy quality. She looked very young, and as her eyes lifted to look over at him there was a vulnerable air about her that intrigued him. And what about her engagement ring?

  ‘I hope I haven’t disrupted your weekend too much,’ he said casually. ‘What were your original plans for tonight?’

  ‘They were nothing special. I’m glad I was able to step into the breach. Did you find that list for the accounts department, by the way?’

  He noted how she swiftly changed the personal question back to business. Now he came to think about it, Chloe did that a lot.

  She was a wonderful PA, probably the best he had ever employed. He knew he could trust her implicitly, yet she kept herself to herself more than any other woman he had ever met.

  If someone had asked him two years ago, when he’d been having problems with a personal assistant who’d had a crush on him and blushed every time he spoke to her, what his ideal PA would be he would have said someone like Chloe, someone who got on with the job and didn’t have any personal interest in him. Yet perversely, now that he had exactly the right person in the job, he found himself wanting her to talk to him a bit more about something other than work. She had this kind of closed-off look about her, a ‘do not touch’ attitude.

  ‘Yes, I found the list, thank you.’ He took a sip of his wine before saying slowly, ‘But let’s not talk about work tonight. I’ve had enough of that all week.’

  ‘As work is our common denominator, there might be a few long silences if we do that.’ She tried to laugh off the request, because in truth it made her feel nervously self-conscious.

  Steven noted the sudden colour in her cheeks and knew he had ruffled her a little with the remark. He had no intention of overstepping the boundaries of their working relationship…for one thing, he didn’t believe in mixing business with pleasure. Yet his curiosity was aroused sufficiently to want to push those boundaries aside for just a while, just to quell the sudden need to know what exactly lay behind Chloe’s businesslike façade.

  ‘Maybe we have a few other things in common that we have yet to discover,’ he said lightly.

  ‘Like a love of old houses and fine wine?’ She kept her voice equally light.

  ‘There you are, we’ve found two things we have in common already.’

  She smiled at the teasing note in his voice. ‘It does seem a bit strange for us to be relaxing like this,’ she said honestly. ‘I keep expecting a telephone to ring, or someone from one of the other departments to come barging in to ask for something.’

  ‘We never get a minute’s peace, do we?’ Steven agreed. ‘Naïvely I thought when I floated the company on the stock exchange four years ago that I’d be able to take more of a back seat. But I think I’m putting more hours in now as managing director than I ever did as the sole owner.’

  ‘Perhaps that’s the heavy price of success.’ She smiled.

  ‘Perhaps.’ He took a sip of his drink.

  She wondered what he was thinking about as she watched the flickering firelight playing over his features. Maybe he was remembering the heady thrill of that business deal. For a man who wasn’t a chef, Steven Cavendish was a remarkably successful restaurateur.

  From humble beginnings with one restaurant he had developed a style and a flair for the imaginative, setting in place the correct chef, the right location and something more…a flair for elegant dining that had struck a chord with Londoners, so that within a year the first Cavendish restaurant had been an overwhelming success and more had followed.

  ‘I suppose I shouldn’t complain. After Stephanie died I was glad to be working so many hours; it helped take my mind off things. In fact, there were points when I felt better in the office than I did at home. I had the peace of mind of knowing my mother was here with Beth…and at least at the office I could pretend everything was normal.’

  ‘It must have been a dreadful time,’ Chloe said sympathetically.

  ‘The worst ever.’

  There was silence for a moment. Steven stared into the fire reflectively. ‘One of the reasons we bought this house was that we thought it was a fine family home. It has five bedrooms and we planned to fill them. Stephanie was from a big family and so am I. We both liked that and wanted the same…’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Steven.’

  The gentle sympathy of her voice jerked him from his contemplation of the past. He shrugged. ‘Life goes on, Chloe. I’ve learnt to deal with it.’

  Despite the calm tone, she knew that he had found his wife’s death very difficult to come to terms with. Chloe had joined the company almost twelve months after the tragedy and she was used to a rather stern and very intense boss who could be more than a little aloof on occasion, but other members of staff had told her that before his wife had died he had been a different man, that her death had made him withdraw into himself.

  Sitting here next to the fire with him, she realised that she was seeing more of that real Steven Cavendish than she had in two whole years in the office. Underneath that enigmatic cloak that he wore so well, he was a nice guy. A nice guy who just happened to be very handsome as well…she thought as she studied his rather aristocratic profile, the chiselled features, square jaw-line and the sensual curve of his lips.

  He glanced over and caught her staring at him. ‘What are you thinking about?’ he asked lazily.

  ‘Just…just how awful it must have been to lose someone you loved so much.’

  ‘Yes, it was.’ As he looked over at her Steven was thinking how right Chloe was—it was kind of strange to sit here talking to her like this. But the funny thing was, she was so easy to talk to. He hadn’t meant to open up to her like that; in fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he had talked to someone about Stephanie. He leaned over and topped up her wine glass. ‘Anyway, let’s not get maudlin,’ he said. ‘It’s Friday night, reason to be celebrating.’

  Realising that he might not want to talk about his wife any further, Chloe took the hint and changed the subject. ‘And if this weather keeps up you might not have to go to Manchester tomorrow.’ She raised her glass.

  ‘Even if the weather improves I might find it difficult to go anyway…because by the looks of things Gina won’t be back tomorrow.’

  ‘Well, if by some miracle the weather does improve I’ll stay on tomorrow and look after Beth,’ Chloe offered.

  ‘Thanks, Chloe.’

  ‘That’s OK. Beth and I get on very well together,’ she said lightly. ‘It would be no hardship.’

  Steven smiled at her. ‘Well, that’s very nice of you, but what about Nile—won’t he mind?’ The quietly asked question made her nerves jump. ‘Where’s he tonight, anyway?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She smiled a trifle over-brightly. ‘Probably out drinking with his mates…’ She was aware of his dark gaze moving towards her hands, to the finger that had worn Nile’s ring. ‘We called our engagement off almost four weeks ago,’ she admitted huskily.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ He frowned. ‘You’ve never said a word about it.’

  ‘I suppose I’m still trying to get used to the idea myself. ‘And we don’t really talk about our personal lives, do we?’ she said. ‘In fact, I had a hard time even trying to talk to you about work today.’

  He grimaced. ‘Sorry, Chloe; hopefully things are going to settle down soon.’

  She smiled. ‘We’ve been saying that for ages. Actually, I don’t mind how busy it is—at least the days go quickly.’

  ‘So your break-up with Nile was very sudden, was it?’ He went back to the subject, his voice gently probing. ‘You two have been together for a long time.’

  ‘Yes; I met him just before I came to work for you, two years ago. But we were probably just not meant for e
ach other. These things happen.’ With massive determination she tried hard to sound as if she was very together about the whole thing, and she tilted her face up and smiled.

  Steven wasn’t fooled by the brave front for a minute. He noted the pallor of her skin and the bright glitter of her blue eyes. ‘Just as well to find you’re not suited now instead of after you married.’

  ‘Yes…that’s what I keep telling myself. But we were living together for over a year…and I did think…well, obviously I thought he was the guy for me. We’d even booked the registry office…’

  ‘So…if it’s not too personal a question…what happened? Was it another woman?’

  She noted with grim amusement that his first surmise was that Nile had dumped her. ‘Well, not exactly, although it turns out that there is another woman in the background now…’ Maybe that other woman had been there all along and he had just picked that argument with her as an excuse to leave…and take their money, she thought grimly.

  ‘Well, he’s an idiot to give you up,’ Steven said briskly. ‘A complete idiot.’

  The compliment took Chloe aback. She wished now that she hadn’t taken off her glasses so that she could read the darkly impassive features more clearly. ‘Thank you.’ She looked away from him, feeling suddenly embarrassed. She couldn’t really believe that she was talking like this to him; it felt really weird.

  ‘You’ll meet someone else, fall in love and thank your lucky stars that you didn’t marry him.’

  Her lips twisted drily. ‘I didn’t realise you were such a romantic.’

  ‘Neither did I.’ He smiled. ‘But it sounded good, didn’t it?’

  Chloe thought about that for a moment and then shook her head. ‘I don’t know about that…’

  ‘Why not?’

  She shrugged. ‘Well, this business of the earth moving and lightning zinging through you when you kiss someone—it’s all just a big distraction, isn’t it?’

  ‘Distraction from what?’