Joel. Every thought she had, happy or sad, led back to him. And it couldn’t go on. Although, the way Joel reacted the next day to her request for time off later that afternoon to go for an interview, one would imagine she wasn’t allowed to think of anything else but him!
‘You’re working your notice, Lindsay,’ he snapped, poring over some photographs he had just developed as they lay strewn across his desk. ‘Not using this studio as a holiday camp!’
‘Most employers—’
‘I’m not most employers,’ he bit out coldly. ‘I would have thought you would have learnt that by now. How am I supposed to manage here while you’re out getting yourself a new job?’
‘Don’t tell me you’re actually admitting to needing someone?’ Lindsay was stung into replying, having needed all her courage to ask for this time off in the first place.
His eyes were icy chips as his gaze slowly moved over her. ‘You’re right, of course. I managed before you came, and I’ll manage after you’ve gone too.’
His double meaning wasn’t lost on her. But he needn’t have worried; she had no illusions about her importance in his life. ‘Can I have the time off or not?’ she asked tightly. ‘If it makes you feel any happier,’ she added with sarcasm, ‘I can take my lunch-hour then.’
Joel’s mouth twisted derisively. ‘Trying to make me feel guilty, Lindsay?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m well aware that would do no good!’
His mouth tightened. ‘You haven’t always thought me such a selfish bastard.’
‘Haven’t I?’ She met his gaze challengingly.
‘Then why the hell did you move in with me?’ he rasped with barely leashed savagery.
‘Curiosity!’
‘Curiosity?’ he repeated softly, dangerously.
‘Maybe I wanted to find out for myself if everything they said about Joel Sutherland, the lover, was true!’
‘Bitchiness doesn’t become you, Lindsay,’ he told her coldly. ‘And neither does lying.’
She stiffened. ‘Why should I lie?’
He swung away from her. ‘How the hell do I know? What do I really know about you?’ he muttered.
She was surprised at this, and showed it. ‘But I’m an open book,’ she frowned.
‘I started to read that book once,’ he scorned harshly. ‘I never did get to the end of War and Peace!’
‘I hadn’t realised I was that boring,’ Lindsay snapped shrilly.
‘You aren’t boring,’ Joel taunted. ‘I’m only just beginning to realise how complex you are. Hell, take the time off for your interview,’ he dismissed with impatience. ‘I’m sure you will, anyway.’
She shook her head. ‘Not if you don’t want me to,’ she assured him quietly.
‘By all means get yourself another job,’ he mocked. ‘Just what is this interview for?’
‘Secretary,’ she supplied uninformatively.
‘Don’t be so unco-operative, Lindsay,’ he taunted confidently. ‘You’ll need a reference from me, won’t you?’
She flushed at the logic of that. Of course she was going to need a reference from him. ‘It’s with an advertising agency,’ she supplied reluctantly.
Joel’s eyes narrowed to thoughtful slits. ‘Which one?’ He gave an appreciative nod as she told him the name of one of the top agencies in town. ‘I thought you were looking for something a little more—routine,’ he drawled.
‘It appears that beggars can’t be choosers,’ she dismissed.
His expression darkened. ‘Why don’t you just stay on here?’
‘Because it wouldn’t work—doesn’t work,’ she told him huskily.
‘God, woman, you don’t have to walk out on a perfectly good job just because a love affair turns sour,’ he scorned.
‘Our affair had nothing to do with love, Joel,’ she informed him tightly. ‘And all I’m doing now is reverting to the original plans I made six months ago, and that was to leave.’
‘You’re a fool.’
‘So I believe,’ she nodded.
‘A stubborn fool,’ he amended pointedly.
She gave a slight smile. ‘ “The pot calling the kettle black”, Joel?’
‘Probably,’ he drawled acknowledgement of the fact. ‘I’ll talk to Paul Robards about you later this morning.’
She knew Paul Robards was the head of the advertising agency she was going to, what she hadn’t known was that Joel was so friendly with him that he could call him and talk to him personally. ‘I’d rather you didn’t,’ she said stiffly.
His eyes narrowed at her suddenly abrupt manner. ‘Why not?’ he prompted softly.
She shrugged. ‘What would you tell him?’ she asked bitterly. ‘What an efficient secretary I am, and how I’m not averse to—working, after hours?’
‘Lindsay—!’
Lindsay gave a weary sigh. ‘Well, it’s the truth, isn’t it?’ she said dully.
Joel’s face was pale, his expression haggard. ‘The relationship we had outside this office,’ he told her between clenched teeth, ‘was no one’s business but our own.’
‘Oh, of course, silly me!’ Her tone contained sarcasm. ‘You didn’t want anyone to know about the two of us then, so why should you want to broadcast it now?’
‘Lindsay—’
‘Thank you for the time off, Joel,’ she cut in flatly. ‘And I think the usual written references will do.’
‘Lindsay.’ The quiet command in his voice stopped her at the door. ‘I never actively tried to hide the fact that we were together, I was only trying to protect you from the bitchiness that often occurs when that sort of thing gets out publicly.’
‘Thank you,’ she said with distaste. ‘But after making the decision to move in with you in the first place I certainly wasn’t ashamed of it!’
Joel grimaced his impatience. ‘Why do you misunderstand or distort everything I say?’
‘I don’t know,’ she shrugged.
He sighed heavily. ‘Good luck at your interview.’
She didn’t seem to need it when she got to the Robards Advertising Agency later that afternoon, and was seen by the personnel officer first before quickly being passed to Paul Robards himself.
He was a tall fair man in his early fifties, quite good-looking in a world-weary sort of way, his casual but expensive clothes fitting him well, his manner oozing confidence. ‘So you work for Joel at the moment?’ He looked up from her reference with narrowed eyes.
‘Yes,’ Lindsay confirmed curtly.
‘He writes a glowing report on you, so why do you want to leave?’
It was the usual question for prospective employer to ask, and yet coming from this man, with his lazily assessing blue eyes, she found she didn’t like it at all. ‘I feel like a change,’ she gave him the standard reply.
Blond brows rose. ‘In this economic climate?’ he queried. ‘Surely there has to be more reason than that?’
She didn’t like the way he was looking at her; a cross between speculation and desire. ‘No,’ she answered abruptly.
He moved around his desk to sit on the edge of it in front of her, one foot swinging backwards and forwards, narrowly eluding touching her thigh as it did so. ‘Joel isn’t considerate to work for?’ he persisted softly.
She moistened suddenly dry lips. ‘Mr Sutherland is a very good employer,’ she told him curtly.
‘But you still want to leave him?’
Lindsay looked up at him sharply, sure this time that she hadn’t imagined the innuendo behind his words. ‘I want to leave his employment, yes.’ She sat awkwardly on the edge of her seat. ‘And I was told by the agency that your company was in need of a secretary.’
His gaze was warmly assessing. ‘My personal secretary, yes,’ he confirmed huskily.
All colour left her cheeks, her glance flickering to the photograph on the desk of his wife and two grownup children. ‘I was under the impression that it was one of the other executives who needed the secretary.’
&n
bsp; ‘Were you?’ Paul Robards dismissed uninterestedly. ‘But you seem to have all the right qualifications to become my secretary.’
She drew in a ragged breath. ‘Mr Robards—’
‘Paul, please,’ he invited charmingly. ‘I feel we could become very good friends.’
That was what she was afraid of! She was sure Joel had kept his word and not telephoned this man, and yet Paul Robards seemed to be well aware of the intimacy of her relationship with Joel in the past. There could be no other possible explanation for his familiar behaviour.
She stood up, moving away from that swinging leg that somehow made her feel trapped. ‘I think there’s been some sort of mistake here, Mr Robards—’
‘Oh?’ His expression darkened, the charm leaving his face as he suddenly looked older, more ruthless.
‘I’m leaving Joel’s—Mr Sutherland’s employment because I want a job with more prospects,’ two could play at this double-edged conversation! ‘Being your secretary seems to offer the same ones!’
Instead of deflating him as it was meant to her comment brought back the smile to his face. ‘Didn’t I mention the fact that if you meet my standards, become indispensable to me, there’s a possibility of your becoming my personal assistant?’ he told her smoothly. ‘Not straight away, of course, but—’
‘I don’t think so, Mr Robards,’ she refused stiffly, knowing exactly what ‘standards’ she would be expected to meet. God, had she become a dirty joke all over London just because she had loved one man enough to live with him? It would seem she had. ‘I’m not interested in this job after all,’ she told him coldly.
He shrugged. ‘The fringe benefits could be highly profitable to an ambitious young woman like you.’
Oh, so now she was being accused of sleeping her way to the top of her career! ‘My only ambition at the moment, Mr Robards,’ she bit out tautly, ‘is to wipe that self-satisfied smirk off your face!’ Her eyes flashed dangerously as she looked him up and down with contempt. ‘You think you could take Joel’s place in my life—in any capacity?’ she scorned with a derisive laugh. ‘I may be ambitious, but I’m certainly not desperate!’
‘Why, you little—’
‘Goodbye, Mr Robards,’ she told him contemptuously. ‘Maybe the next applicant will be interested.’ Her tone seemed to imply that she doubted it.
Lindsay was shaking with reaction by the time she got outside, never having met such prejudice before. To think that her actions with Joel had been viewed as ones of ambition and greed rather than love! Well, she couldn’t face Joel now, knowing he would ask how the interview had gone. It was already four-thirty, if she didn’t go back to the studio he would just assume the interview had gone on longer than expected.
The telephone began ringing about an hour after she got in, and kept on ringing about every fifteen minutes after that. Lindsay lay on the bed in dry-eyed misery, not wanting to talk to anyone right now, not wanting to see anyone either.
But the person ringing the doorbell just after seven o’clock had other ideas, ringing and ringing and ringing until she thought she would go insane.
‘Did it ever occur to you that I might have gone out?’ she demanded of Joel as she opened the door to find he was her persistent visitor.
‘It occurred to me,’ he walked past her into the apartment, ‘which was why I telephoned Robards before coming over here.’
Her mouth twisted. ‘Did you think I would be interested in the “fringe benefits” of being his secretary too?’
His mouth tightened angrily. ‘I thought you might have been innocent enough to be taken in by his charm.’
‘You knew he was like that?’ Her eyes were wide with accusation.
‘Unless he’s changed drastically in the last few months, yes,’ he nodded.
‘And you still let me go for an interview with him?’
‘It was only a job, Lindsay—’
‘As his personal secretary,’ she cut in heatedly. ‘And if I made it very personal I might even have advanced to being his assistant!’
Joel became suddenly still. He was very casually dressed tonight, his denims close-fitting, resting low down on his hips, his pale yellow shirt partly unbuttoned down his chest. ‘Did he say that?’ he ground out.
‘Yes.’ Lindsay was still too stunned and raw from her encounter with Paul Robards to care that the denims and loose shirt she had changed into when she got home were far from glamorous.
‘The swine!’ Joel bit out forcefully, his eyes glittering angrily. ‘Why the hell didn’t you come back to the studio after the interview and tell me that? I thought it had gone well, that you might have gone out somewhere to celebrate. What Paul said on the telephone when I talked to him doesn’t seem so enigmatic now,’ he rasped furiously.
‘What did he have to say?’ she asked uninterestedly.
‘That your qualifications were good, but not good enough,’ he muttered with remembered anger. ‘I couldn’t understand what he meant at the time, your secretarial skills are without fault. And the reference I gave you was excellent.’
Her mouth twisted. ‘I believe he may have thought the reference was in regard to something else.’
‘He knew about us?’ Joel said disbelievingly.
Lindsay gave a jerky nod. ‘He spoke as if he did. Oh, he didn’t come right out and say it, but he said enough. The two of us are just another dirty joke going about town, Joel.’ Her voice was brittle as she put into words what she had realised in Paul Robards’ office this afternoon. ‘Just another secretary sleeping with her boss to get on in her career.’
‘It wasn’t like that—’
‘How many other couples like us do you think have said the same thing?’ she scorned bitterly. ‘I’ve spent the last few hours accepting the facts, Joel, I think you should try and do the same.’
‘It wasn’t like that between us, Lindsay,’ he repeated firmly. ‘For one thing, I’m not married, so we’re both still free agents, free to choose how we want to live. For another, sleeping with me hardly advanced your career,’ he derided. ‘If I had to make the decision all over again I know what my choice would be—how about you?’ he looked at her with searching eyes.
‘The situation will never arise again,’ she told him with calm determination, ‘because I never intend leaving myself open to that sort of—insult, for a second time.’
He nodded acceptance of the vehemence of her feelings. ‘I have no idea how Paul knew about us,’ he frowned his puzzlement.
‘Maybe he didn’t,’ she sighed, pushing the short silky curtain of her hair from her face. ‘Not specifically. But he did by the time I’d finished telling him he wasn’t capable of taking your place in my life—in any capacity,’ she recalled with sharp derision.
Humour lightened Joel’s eyes to golden. ‘Did you mean it?’
Lindsay gave him an impatient look. ‘Of course I meant it,’ she snapped. ‘For a time you were an important part of my life.’
‘For a time,’ he muttered agreement, as if the thought of them being apart now still didn’t please him. ‘Have you eaten dinner yet?’ he asked suddenly.
Her mouth twisted. ‘I’ve hardly felt like it since I got home. And I’m not in the mood to dress and go out now either,’ she added warningly.
‘I wasn’t going to suggest it,’ he taunted, smiling as she blushed. ‘However, I do have some culinary skills—’
‘Omelettes,’ she remembered mockingly.
‘As I remember it, you rarely cooked for me either.’
She flushed. ‘Maybury was always there to cook your favourite meals—exactly as you liked them.’
‘He isn’t here now.’ Joel raised dark brows challengingly.
‘And now I’m not in the mood to cook for you,’ she told him without regret.
‘Then stop complaining about the omelettes.’
‘Joel,’ she stopped him at the kitchen door, ‘I’m really not hungry.’
‘You will be,’ he promised lightly, di
sappearing into her kitchen.
It only took a few minutes of him banging about in her cupboards looking for things before she got up and went in to help him, and the two of them prepared the meal in companionable silence.
‘There,’ Joel looked at her with satisfaction as she ate the last morsel of cheese they had put out to follow their meal of omelettes and salad. ‘Feel better?’
Lindsay felt confused. Now that the food had restored her equilibrium she was wary about what Joel was still doing here. He had satisfied himself as to her wellbeing minutes after being here, now she was wondering why he had lingered to cook her dinner and pour the wine he had found in the fridge to accompany their meal.
‘Lindsay?’ he prompted, clearing away.
‘Why are you doing this, Joel?’ She looked at him with wary green eyes.
‘Well, I can hardly leave you with all the washing-up,’ he deliberately misunderstood her as he filled the sink up with hot water. ‘Not after sharing the meal with you.’
‘Joel—’
‘Take your wine into the other room and sit down,’ he ordered firmly. ‘I’ll join you in a moment.’
To her knowledge domesticity wasn’t one of Joel’s strong points. She shook her head. ‘I’d rather help you.’
He shrugged acceptance, and the two of them did the washing-up together, all the time Lindsay puzzling over how Joel still came to be here. Did he just not have another date this evening and feel at a loose end, or did he have a specific idea for staying here with her? Neither idea particularly pleased her.
‘Your wine.’ He handed her the glass she had deliberately left in the kitchen when they went through to the lounge, joining her on the sofa.
‘Joel—’
‘Drink up,’ he encouraged softly.
It wasn’t the wine that was turning her body to water, it was the thrilling closeness of this man. And she was terrified of the spell he was once again weaving about her, the last week and a half when they had done nothing but snap and snarl at each other fading into the background.
‘Joel—’
‘I’ve missed you, Lindsay,’ he groaned throatily, pulling her into his arms after putting their wine glasses down on the table in front of them. ‘I never knew my bed was so big until it no longer had you in it.’
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