Taken by the Boss: His Very Personal Assistant / In the Banker's Bed / The Takeover Bid

CHAPTER FOUR

KIT was so stunned that she stood totally immobile as Mike Reynolds took her in his arms and gave her a bear hug.

It was as if he had totally forgotten that the last time the two of them had met she had told him exactly what he could do with his job—and his sexual harassment!

But Kit hadn’t forgotten, stiffening in his arms and trying to push him away, panic setting in as she wished herself anywhere but here. Mike Reynolds was bad enough, but she could handle him. She just hadn’t been prepared for that other, much more disturbing guest.

Mike stepped back, his hands gripping the tops of her arms as he held her in front of him. ‘You’re looking good, kid,’ he said, his bold blue gaze moving slowly down the length of her body.

Kit’s mouth tightened at his familiarity, her eyes glowing deeply grey as she glared at him. ‘It’s a pity—’

‘—that we haven’t seen each other for so long,’ he completed smoothly.

She had been going to say something much more insulting! Which was totally unlike her. But after the shock she had just received, politeness—especially to Mike Reynolds!—was the last thing on her mind.

Mike nodded appreciatively, apparently completely impervious to her less-than-enthusiastic response as his arm slid lightly across her shoulders as he moved to stand next to her. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend, Kit?’ he prompted lightly as he looked curiously at Marcus.

Marcus!

It was testament to the shock she had received in the last few moments that she had completely forgotten Marcus had entered the house with her. In fact, she had completely forgotten everything else but that disturbing female presence standing only metres away from her!

She shrugged off the arm Mike had draped about her shoulders, moving deliberately away from him to stand next to Marcus. She shot a glance at her boss; he was watching her and Mike, his expression unreadable, his gaze hooded.

‘Yes, do introduce us, Kit,’ he encouraged now in a voice that sounded as if it came after walking over broken glass.

Kit winced at the sound of it, knowing that the last thing she wanted to do was introduce these two men. Yet it seemed that was the one thing she was going to have to do if she was going to escape from this hallway any time soon. And she most certainly was going to have to escape, to find somewhere she could be on her own for a while, if only to give herself time to decide what she should do next.

Because she couldn’t stay on here. Not now.

‘Marcus Maitland. Mike Reynolds,’ she introduced stiffly, seriously wondering if this weekend could get any worse than it already was. Not only Mike Reynolds, of all people, but—

‘Marcus! Darling…!’ suddenly greeted an all-too-familiar voice.

It just had, Kit acknowledged with an inward groan. Andrea Revel’s heady perfume enveloped them all as she moved into their group and stood on tiptoe to kiss Marcus lingeringly on the lips.

‘And Kit, too.’ Andrea turned to her, the light of triumph in those cat-green eyes before she gave Kit the merest peck on the cheek. ‘How nice,’ she added with dismissive insincerity before turning back to Marcus. ‘Derek Boyes was kind enough to invite me to come with him this weekend,’ she told him with glee as she linked her arm companionably with his.

Kit looked at Marcus beneath lowered lids, but it was impossible to tell from his enigmatic expression just how he was taking that particular piece of news. Although he had to feel something; after all—despite Marcus’s claim that the relationship was over—he and Andrea had been something of an item for at least the last couple of months.

‘How nice,’ he finally answered with the same insincerity Andrea had used towards Kit a few minutes ago.

Causing Kit to look at him with a new appreciation; perhaps he wasn’t as blind to this woman’s bitchiness as she had thought that he was…?

‘Well, if the two of you will excuse us…?’ He deftly removed his arm from Andrea’s clinging grasp as he bent to pick up his and Kit’s cases. ‘Kit and I have only just arrived, so I think it might be appropriate if we find our host and say hello, don’t you?’ Without waiting for a response from either Mike Reynolds or Andrea, he motioned Kit with an urgent inclination of his head to move further into the house.

Further into the lion’s den, as far as Kit was concerned. This weekend was just going from bad to worse. And she had thought the only thing she would have to worry about during the next couple of days was keeping her feelings towards Marcus hidden from him!

A glance at his face as they walked away from the other couple was enough to tell Kit that he wasn’t quite as calm as he wanted to appear: his mouth was set grimly, his eyes narrowed to icy blue slits.

‘Stop looking so worried, Kit,’ he bit out between clenched teeth. ‘I’m not the type to make a scene.’

She hadn’t for a moment thought that he was—it was that he had just thought about making one that bothered her!

But perhaps the fact that Andrea was here with another man had made him realise he didn’t want the woman out of his life, after all? What other possible reason could there be for him making a scene…?

But Marcus’s attention seemed to become distracted as he looked around them, that frownline back between his eyes. ‘There’s something odd going on here,’ he muttered harshly.

Surely he hadn’t just noticed! Her ex-boss was here, someone she had hoped never to see again, and the current woman in his life was here with another man, and as for—

‘Look around you, Kit,’ he said.

She gave him a startled look. ‘Look—?’

‘Just look,’ Marcus encouraged gruffly.

Kit looked, seeing twenty or so other guests: all of the men looked rich and confident, the women beautiful and glamorous.

But when she looked closer, at individuals, she realised that she recognized quite a number of the men, that several of them had either met with Marcus on business, or she had actually seen their photographs—including Mike Reynolds’s!—in the business newspapers in connection with one successful deal or another.

‘Exactly,’ Marcus pronounced as he saw the dawning realisation on her face. ‘It seems I’m not the only one to have heard the rumours. Or that Desmond isn’t averse to actually using those rumours to his own advantage,’ he added knowingly.

Kit instantly saw what he meant by that remark. Bring together a group of a dozen businessmen, supposedly on a social basis, but with the real object of picking up a bargain on a business deal—like sharks circling one of their own injured species!—and the price on those deals was sure to go higher than if business had been done with those individuals on a private basis.

She gave a rueful smile. ‘He could even have started them.’

Marcus turned to give her an admiring look. ‘You’re turning out to be amazingly astute, Kit,’ he said appreciatively.

She felt the blush in her cheeks at this unexpected compliment. ‘It was just a guess,’ she admitted. ‘I could be completely wrong.’

He gave her a teasing smile. ‘I’m not sure that—well, well, well,’ he said consideringly as something over her left shoulder caught and held his attention, his expression once again enigmatic.

Kit stiffened. ‘What is it?’ she asked as he continued to look at something—or someone!—behind her.

‘Hmm?’ he murmured distractedly. ‘Let’s go and say hello to our esteemed host, shall we?’ He didn’t wait for her reply before grasping her arm with his free hand and directing her across the hallway.

Kit almost came to a full stop again as she saw their host chatting amiably with a number of people, easily recognizing several of them; Mike Reynolds had joined them, since she and Marcus had left him a couple of minutes ago.

Marcus turned to give her a curious glance as he sensed her reluctance to join the group. ‘How about we have a little chat about—your friend, later, hmm?’ he suggested.

She gave him a sharp look before replying, ‘Mike Reynolds is no friend of mine!’

‘I already gathered that,’ Marcus replied. ‘But I have a feeling that he was once,’ he added speculatively.

‘No way!’ Kit denied heatedly. ‘Mike Reynolds is nothing but a—’

‘Later, Kit,’ Marcus advised tersely as they reached their host. ‘And don’t forget what I told you: observe and listen.’ He turned a socially bright smile on Desmond Hayes. ‘Quite a crowd you have here, Desmond,’ he greeted the other man jovially, releasing Kit’s arm to shake the other man’s hand.

‘Marcus!’ The other man’s face lit with recognition. ‘So glad you could make it,’ he welcomed with the smooth charm for which he was renowned. He was a tall, attractive man in his late fifties, his dark hair sprinkled with silver, his lined face handsome, his smiling blue eyes sharply intelligent.

Kit stood slightly behind the two men as they greeted each other, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. ‘Observe and listen,’ Marcus had told her—when all she really wanted to do was blend in with the velvet-embossed wallpaper, disappear into it if that were at all possible!

How much longer was this torture to go on before she could escape to the bedroom she had been allocated and actually give herself time to think—and breathe? Because she was sure she had all but stopped doing the latter a good five minutes ago!

‘And this is Kit. Kit…?’ Marcus called sharply, having turned to introduce her only to find her lurking behind him.

She moistened dry lips, keeping her gaze down on the carpeted floor as she held out her hand to the other man. ‘Mr Hayes,’ she greeted shyly.

‘Desmond, please,’ the older man encouraged with warm invitation, holding onto her hand to pull her slightly forward as she would have released it. ‘And just where has Marcus been hiding you?’ he queried.

Kit swallowed, still not looking up, but very much aware that the group around them had grown silent now as they listened to the exchange. Exchange? It could hardly be called that when Desmond Hayes was the one doing all the talking! In a flirtatious way he had. And, to add to her confusion, he still hadn’t released her hand!

She moistened her lips once again. ‘I—’

‘Careful, Desmond,’ Marcus told the other man with lazy derision, his arm moving casually about Kit’s shoulders as he did so.

‘Private property, eh, Marcus?’ the older man said regretfully.

Kit found this whole conversation distasteful—and attention-drawing. Which was what she most certainly didn’t want at this particular moment!

‘Something like that,’ Marcus returned noncommittally.

‘Can I offer the two of you glasses of champagne?’ Without waiting for their answer, Desmond Hayes plucked two flutes off the tray that a passing waiter was carrying.

Kit accepted the glass he held out to her, taking a much-needed sip of the bubbly liquid it contained. Getting drunk certainly wouldn’t help this situation, but hopefully she would become too numb to care!

Marcus held up the two bags he was carrying. ‘Are you going to tell us where the two of us are to sleep so that I can get rid of these, or do we just go upstairs and take our pick of bedrooms?’ he prompted.

‘I’ll have Forbes take your luggage upstairs,’ Desmond Hayes murmured apologetically, giving Kit’s hand one last familiar squeeze before releasing it to turn and signal to the butler standing unobtrusively down the hallway. The elderly man immediately came over to relieve Marcus of the two bags.

Not that Kit was taking too much notice of these proceedings, still caught up in Marcus’s last comment, especially the part about, ‘where the two of us are to sleep’!

Surely Marcus wasn’t expecting them to share a bedroom? That would be taking her supposed role as the current woman in his life a little too far. In fact, as far as she was concerned, much too far!

‘Catherine,’ Marcus was greeting lightly now as their host disappeared to instruct Forbes on where to put their luggage, turning to smile coolly at the woman who stood slightly apart from the other guests.

Almost as if, like Kit, she were trying to remain unobtrusive. And yet Kit knew that couldn’t be true. It was more likely that the older woman was watching them all with the contemptuous amusement for which she was so well known.

The woman’s height only added to her imperiousness, her smooth, shoulder-length hair completely without adornment, or any pretence of hiding its silver colour, confirming her sixty-seven years, though her figure was still youthfully slim in the plain black dress she wore, and the unlined beauty of her face dominated by hard silver-grey eyes.

Kit had never actually met her before, and yet she would have known her anywhere.

Catherine Grainger.

Marcus’s arch business enemy…

But also the very, very last person of whom Kit wanted to be within one hundred miles!

CHAPTER FIVE

‘WILL you stop pacing up and down like that?’ Marcus said as he lay back on the bed watching her. ‘I feel exhausted just watching you!’

Kit spared him an annoyed glance, but didn’t hesitate in her pacing. This whole situation was intolerable, and all he could do was lie there looking—looking—utterly desirable!

His dark hair was ruffled, his eyes sleepily sensual—and the fact that he was completely relaxed as he lay on the bed certainly didn’t help to allay that impression!

‘Look on the bright side, Kit—’

‘Is there one?’ she groaned, moving to stand next to the bed. ‘And will you please get up?’ she demanded. ‘This is where I have to sleep tonight.’ Something that was going to be virtually impossible for her to do now she had the image of this man lying back on her pillow!

‘Sorry!’ Marcus sat up slowly, eyeing her with amusement. ‘But surely that is the bright side?’ he encouraged. ‘At least we have adjoining bedrooms rather than having to share one.’

Oh, yes, that was really comforting! The connecting door between the two bedrooms stood wide open at the moment, with no key on either side to lock it even when it was closed. Kit knew this, for she had already looked for one!

The half an hour or so of torture Marcus had spent downstairs socializing with the other weekend guests before coming up to change for dinner was nothing compared to finding that they had been given connecting bedrooms.

‘Personally, I think it was pretty decent of Desmond not to have just assumed that we—well, that we—’

‘Are lovers?’ Kit finished forcefully, way beyond being reasoned with.

Marcus shrugged. ‘Well, you have to appreciate that it’s good of him, given the circumstances, and the amount of other people here for the weekend. After all, this isn’t a hotel; I could hardly phone on ahead and book two single rooms!’

She didn’t have to give Desmond Hayes anything. Or Marcus Maitland, either, for that matter!

‘You wouldn’t have done it anyway—I would!’ She sighed, her nerve endings feeling so frayed she wanted to scream.

The hour since they had arrived at Desmond Hayes’s home had been filled with one shock after another, so much so that all Kit wanted to do right now was lock herself in the en suite bathroom and stay there until it was all over. She certainly wasn’t in the mood to be teased and cajoled!

She glared at Marcus, her hands clenched at her sides, so agitated that she felt as if she wanted to hit someone, if not physically then verbally would do. ‘Is this the usual practice when you’re away with your PA? Was that the reason that Angie Dwyer told me about you, the reason she decided to leave? Did she object to—?’

‘Careful, Kit,’ Marcus cut in with quiet intensity, his eyes narrowed. ‘I may be feeling pretty mellow at the moment, but I would advise you not to forget exactly what the two of us are doing here.’

She breathed deeply. ‘That’s the problem; I’m no longer sure what I’m doing here. If this really is a working weekend, then that’s okay. But if you expect me to—to—’ she made an agitated gesture towards the rumpled bed that he still sat on ‘—then I’m afraid you’re going to be sadly disappointed, because I—’

‘Stop right there,’ he commanded harshly, standing up so abruptly that Kit took an involuntary step backwards. He gave a humourless smile as he saw the movement. ‘To put the record straight, the reason Angie Dwyer decided to leave had nothing to do with my behaviour—and everything to do with her own!’ He grimaced. ‘To be ungentlemanly about it—’

‘Oh, do!’ Kit invited agitatedly.

He gave her a warning look. ‘To be ungentlemanly about it,’ he repeated tautly, ‘Angie was the one who decided our relationship could be a little more—intimate, shall we say? I don’t get involved with employees. For goodness’ sake, Kit,’ he implored as she still looked unconvinced. ‘Need I remind you that until a couple of hours ago you looked as desirable as someone’s maiden aunt. I certainly didn’t give you the job because of the way you looked!’

Of course he hadn’t, she realised self-disgustedly. She was just so upset by whom she was expected to spend this weekend with that she had gone completely off on a tangent. As if Marcus would ever find her attractive, even without the severe hairstyle and glasses, when there were women like Andrea Revel falling all over him.

And that was something else…!

‘Okay,’ she dismissed tautly. ‘I suggest we forget about that side of things for the moment.’

Especially as she had been completely wrong in her conclusions about his relationship with Angie Dwyer. She should have known from her conversation with Angie that she’d had some sort of chip on her shoulder about Marcus. From the other woman’s catty remarks about his private life, namely the women who populated it, perhaps it should have been obvious what that chip had been.

‘Big of you,’ he muttered.

Her eyes glowed deeply grey. ‘You have no idea how big.’ She sighed, remembering only too well those awful months she had spent working for Mike Reynolds. ‘But what are you going to do about Andrea Revel?’ she challenged.

Marcus raised dark brows. ‘Do about her?’

Kit gave him a frowning glance. ‘As in her being here this weekend at all.’

‘But she’s not here with me, is she?’ he reasoned. ‘You are.’

‘Yes, but—but—’

‘We’re back to that broken record again. The fact that Andrea is here has absolutely nothing to do with me,’ he told her clearly. ‘She came with Derek Boyes; she’s his problem.’

Kit couldn’t agree with him, on either statement; he and Andrea had ended their relationship because he had told her he was bringing Kit instead of her, and if Andrea was anyone’s problem, then she was definitely Marcus’s!

‘Mr Maitland—’

‘I thought we had agreed that, for this weekend at least, it’s to be Marcus and Kit?’ he reminded her dryly.

‘But that’s my whole point!’ she said frustratedly. ‘Andrea—Miss Revel—knows that the two of us aren’t a couple.’

‘Does she?’ He looked at her with steady blue eyes.

Kit blinked. ‘Doesn’t she?’

He shrugged. ‘A little hard to tell, wouldn’t you say, considering the changes in your appearance, and the fact that we’re sharing a suite?’

‘Yes, but—okay, let’s just forget the broken-record remarks,’ she offered. ‘Until yesterday the two of you were—well, you were!’ she accused.

‘And now we’re not,’ he dismissed unconcernedly. ‘Life moves on very fast sometimes, doesn’t it? And at other times…’ he stood up, moving purposefully towards her ‘… it moves very slowly…’ Before Kit even had time to gauge what he was doing, his head lowered and his mouth claimed hers.

There was no thought of denial on her part as she melted into his hardness, her lips parting beneath his.

She had longed for this all those months of working beside Marcus, had lain awake at nights wondering what it would be like to be kissed by him. And now she knew.

It was wonderful!

His arms moved about the slenderness of her waist as he moulded her body against his, his tongue moving in exploration of the sensuous warmth of her bottom lip, her groan of capitulation all the encouragement he needed to deepen the kiss.

Kit felt like liquid fire in his arms, her body pressed against his, groaning low in her throat as she felt the caress of his hand against the curve of her breast.

Quite what would have happened next, Kit had no idea, if a door banging noisily shut further down the corridor hadn’t made her start back guiltily to stare up at Marcus with disbelieving eyes.

His expression was unreadable, his blue eyes shuttered as he looked back at her.

Kit swallowed hard, her tongue moving to moisten her lips as she searched for something to say. What could she say? Except the obvious!

‘Didn’t you just violate your own rule where employees are concerned?’ she ventured—desperately hoping to divert his attention from the fact that she had very definitely responded to him!

His mouth quirked. ‘I read somewhere once that “rules are made for the guidance of wise men and the blind obedience of fools”!’