After Maya had gone, Blaise sniffed the faint trail of stirringly sensual perfume that his entrancing temporary visitor had left in her wake, and a charge of electricity zigzagged powerfully through the taut mid-section of his stomach.

It wasn’t just the arresting notes of amber and warm tangerine that had stirred his previously slumbering libido. It was the intoxicating sight of almond-shaped green eyes fringed with sooty black lashes, long dark hair as glossy and as glittering as a moonlit sea, and audacious curves poured into the most seductive black velvet dress he’d ever seen.

With a brief shake of his head and a rueful smile, he went back to the comfortable winged armchair and the decanter of port his host had so thoughtfully provided, wondering when had been the last time a woman had so easily and carelessly refused him anything. His mind instantly provided him with the disturbing answer…never.

The day Maggie Cox saw the film version of Wuthering Heights, with a beautiful Merle Oberon and a very handsome Laurence Olivier, was the day she became hooked on romance. From that day onwards she spent a lot of time dreaming up her own romances, secretly hoping that one day she might become published and get paid for doing what she loved most! Now that her dream is being realised, she wakes up every morning and counts her blessings. She is married to a gorgeous man, and is the mother of two wonderful sons. Her two other great passions in life—besides her family and reading/writing—are music and films.

Secretary By Day, Mistress By Night

By

Maggie Cox

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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To dear Danika—my delightful companion on a wonderful creative break in Northumberland—with love and thanks

CHAPTER ONE

NOW she knew what E.T. must have felt like—alone and abandoned, light years away from what was loved and familiar, on a planet that seemed totally alien and unwelcoming. No wonder he’d sought refuge in Elliott’s garage. Right now, Maya wished she could find a handy empty or darkened room to hide away in. One glance along the burnished candle-lit table at the high-octane guests, the reek of class and money, merely confirmed what she already knew to be true—she didn’t fit in. A ‘fish out of water,’ that was what she was. But the truth was she didn’t want to fit in.

Up until now her temporary jobs as an admin assistant had been pretty problem-free. But for the past few weeks her agency had asked her to work for a PR agency—Maya’s worst nightmare as far as employment went. As the cut-glass accents rose and fell all around her, the scent of social snobbery in the air as distinct as Chanel No. 5, she knew why she resisted being part of such a phoney world.

She’d been raised by a father who’d all but sold his soul to perpetuate a similar lavish lifestyle and glean the dubious respect of such people, and in pursuit of it he had sacrificed everything that had once meant something to him. His talent, money, self-respect and once good reputation had been squandered and degraded as he lost his grip on reality and the values he’d once so fiercely upheld. And as he’d sunk lower and lower into a pit of self-loathing and regret for what he’d done, it had only been a matter of time before he took the ultimate terrible step.

Maya shuddered.

The devastating memory killed her appetite. Now the food on her plate held little temptation for her, and even knowing it had been specially created in a Michelinstarred restaurant for the purpose of the occasion was no incentive. Along with the dinner had come the services of one of the restaurant’s top chefs, supported by a small team of staff to supervise its plating and serving. As was his usual style, her flamboyant boss, Jonathan Faraday, had spared no expense in displaying the growing success of his well-known PR company.

Clamping down on the persistent little flutter in her belly that urged her to get the hell out of there while she still had her pride and dignity intact, Maya lifted her gaze determinedly to the urbane silver-haired man sitting opposite and gave him the brightest smile she could muster.

Bad move, Maya. His startled hazel gaze flashed an invitation in return, and with a sinking feeling she knew he thought she’d given him the green light at last.

Hell’s bells! What was she supposed to do now? Because it paid well, she didn’t want to lose her job, but neither did she want to sleep with her boss to keep it. If only his super-efficient, elegant PA Caroline hadn’t been called to the hospital bed of her dying mother-in-law at the last minute Maya would be safe at home now, dressed in comfy sweater and leggings; settling herself down on her sofa in readiness to view the film she’d hired for the weekend, with a bowl of tortilla chips, some salsa dip and a glass of wine on hand to heighten the experience.

Instead, she’d squeezed herself into a black velvet gown that was at least half a size too small, with her breasts crammed into a bodice so tight that it gave her the cleavage of a pneumatic glamour model, while her generously applied mascara made her eyes smart because it was new and she was obviously allergic to it. And all this discomfort because Jonathan had insisted she attend the function at his house in Caroline’s place. It didn’t matter that Maya was just a lowly temporary assistant from the less glamorous echelons of the company—Jonathan had had his eye on her for some time. He could see she had talent, determination, he’d said, smiling—and he could see she was destined for better things…He could see this was a good opportunity to get into her knickers…

Sighing heavily, she absently pushed the artistically arranged concoction of cranberries and parmaham round her plate with a fork. When the blatant caress of a shoeless foot stroked up and down her ankle Maya almost jumped out of her skin. Tucking her feet indignantly beneath her chair, feeling searing heat hotter than a blacksmith’s smithy assail her cheeks, she stared across the table at her suave, supremely confident boss. Bad enough she’d had an inkling that she might have to fight him off if he had too much to drink. Jonathan could more or less be counted on to chase anything in a skirt when his rampaging testosterone had been even more boosted by alcohol, but Maya hadn’t expected he would be quite so blatant about it from the off. And all he’d had so far was one glass of champagne as the guests had been welcomed into the drawing room. In the name of self-preservation she had deliberately kept an eye on his intake—so she was surprised and more than a little rattled that he seemed intent on staking a claim right away. Damn it, she shouldn’t even be here!

‘Excuse me.’

‘Something wrong, Miss Hayward?’ Jonathan swirled the ruby-red wine that a passing waiter had just poured into his glass, leaning nonchalantly back in his grand Regency-style chair to enjoy the view as his shapely young employee rose hastily to her feet. ‘No. I’m fine.’

Why did he have to notice everything she did? Was she forced to announce to the entire table that she had a sudden pressing need to visit the Ladies’ Room? Why couldn’t he just talk to the stunning blonde sitting next to him? The woman had been batting her eyelashes at him practically since they’d sat down. But apparently in the bedroom department Jonathan Faraday didn’t give women his own age the time of day—no matter how beautiful. He liked them young, so she’d heard on the grapevine. Bad luck for Maya that she’d only just turned twenty-five…

‘I’ll—I’ll be back shortly.’

Escaping before he could delay her further—or, worse, find some nefarious reason to accompany her—Maya found herself hurrying down corridors, the echo of her heels hitting the parquet floor mocking her as she struggled to find her bearings. Oh, why had she agreed to this farce? Now she was stuck out here in the middle of nowhere, dependent on her lech of a boss for a lift home—and not until midday tomorrow, if what Caroline had said was true. Apparently Jonathan was in no hurry to get back to London until mid-afternoon at least. Maya’s head swam a little. The glass of champagne she’d had had been a dangerous lapse in judgement. She should have insisted on orange juice or mineral water. If she was going to get out of this little escapade with her virtue intact it was essential she kept a clear head—so no more alcohol for her, even if Jonathan insisted.

Her green eyes flicked hopefully round. She could have sworn there was a bathroom round here somewhere… Pushing open twin cream doors with ornate gilded panels, she found herself in a long, high-ceilinged room, its panelling painted in tastefully calming hues of pink and cream. A welcoming fire blazed in the huge marble fireplace, tempting her to stay and re-establish some of her lost composure.

Gazing round, Maya was momentarily distracted by the elaborate array of expensive-looking art that adorned the walls, and the seductive glow of antique lamps turned down low that cleverly created the illusion that the large, elegant room was actually more intimately proportioned than it really was. Succumbing to necessity, she gave in to the luxury of breathing out completely. Her tight bodice almost cracked a rib, while her lush breasts appeared in dire peril of escaping their velvet confines any time soon.

What had possessed her to wear such an outrageous dress? Okay, Caroline had told her the dress code was black tie and evening wear, but surely she knew that, when she’d borrowed the garment from her smaller-built friend Sadie, she was courting trouble by wearing it? Especially when Jonathan Faraday was around!

‘If Jonathan’s the confectioner, then clearly you’ve got to be the candy.’

At the sound of an amused yet obviously mocking male voice, Maya spun round in shock, mortified that she’d been observed when she had stupidly imagined herself to be alone. Her hand flew self-consciously to her cleavage, her teeth worrying at her plump lower lip as she stared at the man who suddenly rose from the high-winged chair turned towards the fireplace. Why hadn’t she noticed he was there straight away? A shiver of embarrassment and frustration sprinted up her spine. Staring transfixed at the imposing stranger, she felt his electrifying gaze welding her to a hypnotised standstill.

‘And you are…?’ Not that she really wanted to know, when inside she was silently fuming at his impertinent assumption that she had somehow been invited purely for decoration.

‘I see you haven’t done your homework, Miss…?’

Of all the arrogant…!

‘I work for Mr Faraday.’

‘Of course you do. You work for me too in that dress, if I may say so?’

Scorching embarrassment immobilised her. Blast that stupid dress! And blast her eye-catching curves, when life would have been so much easier if she’d simply been straight up and down and flat-chested.

‘If that was meant as a compliment, then forgive me if I don’t take it as one. It’s not at all flattering to be viewed as some kind of decorative object…as if I don’t possess even a modicum of intelligence! I’ve met people like you before, and I’m…’ Maya paused to take a breath, before biting her tongue. ‘Yes, well…I’d better not say any more. Time to go, I think.’

‘What do you mean, you’ve met people like me before?’

‘Never mind.’

‘Oh, but I do mind. Explain yourself.’

It was too late to rescind her comment, and Maya sensed her shoulders drop with resignation and not a little annoyance. ‘Enough to say I’m not part of the floor show or entertainment for the guests, however it might look. I didn’t even want to be here in the first place!’

The stranger’s well-cut lips parted in a puzzled smile. ‘This is getting more and more interesting. Why didn’t you want to be here, Miss…?’

‘Hayward.’

It was difficult to say with any sense of accuracy what colour his eyes were in the muted glow of the lamps—it sufficed to register that they burned with a fierce, concentrated gleam across the distance between them, keeping Maya prisoner even though she desperately wanted to flee. Beneath the bold regard of that disturbing glance she shifted uncomfortably. Was it her, or had the room suddenly acquired the temperature of some tropical oasis?

‘I’m only here because of work. All I meant was this isn’t my kind of scene and neither are the people. I apologise if I’ve offended you in any way with my frankness.’

‘Apology accepted. I’m not offended at all. Just intrigued.’

‘I’d still better go.’

‘I wish you wouldn’t.’ The man walked towards her and a sharp spasm of recognition jolted through Maya’s insides. Blaise Walker—movie actor turned lauded and brilliant playwright. No wonder he had made that dig about her not doing her homework. He was the guest of honour, no less! The guest that Jonathan had announced to the table a mere ten minutes ago as being unavoidably detained.

Now her face burned for another reason. She had just been bordering on rude to the man, and no doubt Jonathan would hear all about it. But what was Blaise doing, hiding out in here? Her growing unease deepened. One, because the man was even more devastatingly attractive in the flesh than in his photographs, and two, because she didn’t really think her boss would like the idea of a mere admin assistant like her fraternising with such an important client—let alone verbally putting him in his place! She should make herself scarce…now.

‘Well, I have to go. I’m expected back any time now.’

‘Of course…it’s no surprise that a woman like you would be missed if you were away too long.’

‘Look…I didn’t mean to disturb you in any way. I was just trying to find the Ladies’ Room, but I’m afraid I—I got lost.’

‘This is a big house.’

Did he think she hadn’t noticed? It was an extremely impressive one too—a real showpiece. The kind to which her father would have relished inviting his illustrious clientele—which had included rock stars, film actors and art sycophants, who had bought his paintings during his short but infamous career—for drinks and other ‘recreational’ refreshments. The minuscule square footage of her studio apartment would fit into it at least a hundred times over, she was sure.

Renewing her intention to make herself scarce, Maya moved back towards the still ajar twin doors.

‘Anyway, like I said…I’m sorry for the intrusion.’

‘An apology is hardly necessary when the pleasure was all mine. Perhaps when you’ve visited the Ladies’ Room you might consider coming back for a while, to give us a chance to get properly acquainted?’

‘No!’

She hadn’t meant to sound quite so adamant, but any further explanation somehow got stuck in her throat. The way Blaise Walker was surveying her—disturbing eyes mocking in that haunting angular face of his, tarnished gold hair darkly glinting against the startling white of his shirt collar—Maya was finding it seriously difficult to think straight. She just prayed he wouldn’t reveal her inadvertent intrusion and blunt opinions to Jonathan when they met up. Her boss might want to bed her, but he wouldn’t take it lightly if his client intimated that she’d bothered him in any way. Her hand curved anxiously around the brass door handle.

‘Sorry…’ she muttered once more as she exited hurriedly into the hallway.

After she’d gone, Blaise sniffed the faint trail of stirringly sensual perfume that his entrancing temporary visitor had left in her wake and a charge of electricity zigzagged powerfully through his taut mid-section. It wasn’t just the arresting notes of amber and warm tangerine that had stirred his previously slumbering libido. It was the intoxicating sight of almond-shaped green eyes fringed with sooty black lashes, long dark hair as glossy as a glittering moonlit sea, and audacious curves poured into the most seductive black velvet dress he’d ever seen.

With a brief shake of his head and a rueful smile, he went back to the comfortable winged armchair and the decanter of port his host had so thoughtfully provided, wondering when the last time was that a woman had so easily and carelessly refused him anything. His mind instantly provided him with the disturbing answer…never.

Blaise drank down the remainder of his drink with far less enjoyment than he’d anticipated and frowned. There was a certain lack of respect that manifested itself in him around anything that came to him too easily. That went for success and women. It was only natural that a beautiful, feisty female like his alluring visitor—a woman who was clearly not going to tumble into his bed at the click of his fingers—would inevitably arouse his interest. But, that said, despite Miss Hayward’s indignant assertion that she wasn’t ‘part of the floor show’, it was fairly obvious that she must belong to Jonathan. She had to. She hadn’t even bothered to deny it.

Dropping the crystal stopper a little impatiently into the decanter, he carefully returned it to the small rosewood table beside the chair. Raking his fingers through his sleek golden hair, he briefly closed his eyes, wishing he hadn’t allowed Jane, his agent, to convince him that he should capitalise on the current avid interest in his work from the theatre-going public and take advantage of some first-rate PR to promote his image.

All Blaise wanted to do was retreat to his remote house in the wilds of Northumberland, with nothing but the mournful soughing of the wind and the untamed beauty of the countryside for company, write to his heart’s content and let the world go its own tedious way without him.

He’d briefly become acquainted with fame during his three-year stint as a film actor, and the maelstrom of public interest at the time, as well as the intrusion into his private life, had been a right royal pain! If there were actors who craved fame, with all its dubious rewards and lack of privacy, then he wasn’t one of them. All he had been interested in was conveying the character he played to the audience with the utmost conviction and one hundred percent commitment. If he could do that then he wouldn’t have short-changed the people who had come to see him.

He applied the same passionate approach to his writing. Hopefully, when this current circus of media attention was over, he could return to Hawk’s Lair and pull up the drawbridge—for a little while at least. But, that said, it didn’t stop him continuing to speculate about the gorgeous brunette who’d inadvertently wandered in on him, with all that creamy cleavage so tantalisingly on display and a temper that—did she but know it—made her even more provocative than she was already.

His creative mind was already speculating on how that pent-up passion might be expressed in bed. Even more, it made him fantasise about helping her out of that sexy little dress later on tonight if even so much as half a chance came his way…

They stopped outside her bedroom door, with Maya twisting her arm behind her back to clutch anxiously at the doorknob as she desperately sought an escape route out of her predicament. Her boss swayed in front of her, alcoholic fumes making her grimace. Jonathan’s drinking was legendary, but he had surpassed his own reputation tonight. In fact, Maya was amazed that he was still standing, never mind trying to coerce her into bed. His chameleon-like hazel eyes—a little cloudy now from the effects of alcohol—dropped lasciviously to her cleavage. He put a hand out to the side of her, to help balance himself against the wall.

Ignoring her seriously startled expression as he loomed over her, he capitalised on the opportunity to move his body even closer, so that along with the fumes of alcohol her senses were assaulted by the overpowering smell of his French cologne.

‘I thought the dinner went really well tonight, didn’t you? But I’m really tired now, and I—’ Maya moved suddenly and darted to the side of him, just in time to deflect an oncoming caress, her heart racing so fast she was almost dizzy.

Frustrated and cross, Jonathan swore. ‘Screw the dinner! All I want to do right now is take you to bed. Think about it, darling. A girl like you deserves so much more than an admin assistant’s pay to get by on. Be nice to me and I’ll make it more than worth your while…You get my drift, don’t you, sweetie?’

He raised a perfectly groomed silver eyebrow to drive home his clumsily executed innuendo, reminding Maya so much of a dastardly rogue in one of those old silent movies that she almost laughed out loud. All that was missing was the famous handlebar moustache and the scene would be complete.

‘Yes, Jonathan. I do get your drift. But at the end of the day you’re my boss, and I make it a rule never to complicate professional relationships by allowing them to become personal.’ She sucked in a deep breath, trying not to let her voice falter. ‘I’m one of your employees…albeit a temporary one. That said, I’m going to decline your invitation and say goodnight. In the cold light of day I’m sure you’ll be glad I did.’

‘What if I offered you a permanent position? Would that help you see things differently?’

‘No.’ Maya had no hesitation in making that clear. ‘I’m afraid it wouldn’t.’

‘What a shame,’ Jonathan sneered. ‘And I thought you were such a bright girl too. Still…you’re not getting off that easily.’

‘What do you mean?’ Her green eyes flashed her alarm.

‘You’re just playing hard to get, aren’t you?’

Suddenly there was an expression on his face that put every impulse in Maya’s body on red alert. This is going to be trickier than I thought… She panicked. Letting go of the doorknob, she raked her long hair away from her face, letting her hand splay protectively across her chest.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m only here tonight because my job required it.’

‘Don’t tell me you’re that naïve?’ Jonathan breathed, yanking her towards him. ‘Common or garden assistants don’t get invited to my house just to take dictation! I’ve been flirting with you for weeks now—don’t pretend you didn’t know what it was leading to.’

‘I’m here because Caroline was called away at the last minute. She told me you needed someone to stand in for her,’ Maya protested, even as Jonathan shook his head.

‘Caroline stayed away because I ordered her to stay away!’ he growled. ‘Seeing as you turned me down every time I asked you out, it was the only way I could think of to get you alone. Has the penny finally dropped, Miss Hayward?’

She twisted her face away as his mouth descended, pushing hard against his chest with both hands, in a split second seeing all her effort and hard work wasted as she denied Jonathan Faraday the prize he craved, knowing she would get nothing for her pains but her marching orders.

Oh, well. She’d just have to tell the agency to find her something else. It would be a cold day in hell before she succumbed to sexual coercion from a man just to keep her job—that was for sure!

‘Come on, Maya—giving me the runaround is one thing, but I’ve been working myself up to fever-pitch knowing you were coming to my house this weekend. Just one little kiss, eh?’

He might have been drunk, but Jonathan was physically no push-over. He easily hijacked her arms to pin her against the wall, breathing heavily as he pressed his body hard against hers, seeing the sudden fear darkening her lovely green eyes and no doubt getting off on the thought of having his way.

That was until an authoritative male voice a few feet away said coolly, ‘I must say I’m surprised, Jonathan. For all your reputation as a ladies’ man I never thought you’d descend to physically forcing your attentions on a woman.’

‘What?’ More than a little discomfited, Jonathan abruptly released Maya to negotiate an unsteady step backwards. Wiping his hand across his mouth, he straightened, then looked Blaise Walker defiantly in the eye.

‘Don’t be daft, man! She’s been making eyes at me all evening. She was practically—’

‘Gagging for it?’ Blaise finished smoothly.

Maya wished the ground would open up and swallow her. Humiliation made her burn with rage at the injustice of it all. Did Jonathan’s famous client really believe that? She could hardly bring herself to look at Blaise Walker as she pushed back her hair, then twisted her hands anxiously together in the sensuous velvet folds of her frock.

‘From where I was standing, it looked like the lady was very definitely protesting at your attentions. Why don’t we just check with her to verify the matter?’

Maya found herself in the worst dilemma. If she made Jonathan look like a would-be rapist then what would that do for his client relationship with Blaise Walker? On the other hand, she had her own reputation to consider, and she was damned if she was going to trash it all in the name of public relations…She’d more or less just kissed goodbye to her job anyway.

‘As I told you before, I work for Mr Faraday,’ she said evenly. ‘If he mistakenly got the impression I was considering anything else by agreeing to come here this weekend then I’m sorry—but he’s most definitely wrong.’

Colouring in spite of her determination to stay strong, Maya flicked a glance at the handsome playwright, then tore it away again before his darkly brooding stare could make her reveal even more than she’d intended. Like the fact that she’d been genuinely frightened by Jonathan’s unwanted attentions. Blaise was a tall man, whose breadth of shoulder alone seemed to dominate the long, high-ceilinged corridor, and in his black tuxedo and crisp white shirt his impressive physique and confident stance instantly commanded the kind of jaw-dropping attention that was hardly commonplace in her day-to-day reality. No wonder he’d been such a successful screen actor. It wasn’t just his looks that would hook the audience in either. The man had genuine presence.

‘Well. You have your answer, my friend.’

At Blaise’s mocking stare, Jonathan had the grace to look momentarily repentant. Maya saw the sudden flush of colour beneath his artificial tan.

‘Too much to drink, I expect,’ he mumbled, shrugging his shoulders. Then, recovering quickly, he issued Maya with a belligerent glance that spoke volumes. ‘You know what it’s like—women are notorious for saying one thing when they mean another. I’m sorry you didn’t feel you could join us at dinner, Blaise, but perhaps we can talk about the campaign in the morning?’

‘I’m an early riser,’ the other man responded coolly, ‘and I like to go for a run before breakfast. Seven-thirty okay with you?’

Jonathan swayed a little, as if the mere thought of getting up so early on a Sunday morning after wining and dining the night away was like asking him to swim the English Channel when he could barely swim a stroke. He touched a slightly unsteady hand to his immaculate silver hair.

‘Seven-thirty’s fine. I’ll see you then.’ Without so much as a backward glance at Maya, he made his way carefully along to the opposite end of the corridor, pushed open a door right at the end and slammed it shut behind him, the sound resonating off the walls with the same jolting impact as cannon-fire…

Allowing herself the momentary luxury of leaning against the wall in support of her quaking limbs, Maya knew her sigh was hugely relieved. She’d had a lucky escape for sure. There was only one flaw. She was dependent on Jonathan for giving her a lift home tomorrow, because he’d insisted she travel with him. She couldn’t leave now even if she wanted to. Unless, of course, she was willing to blow the last of her precious month’s salary on an expensive cab ride to the nearest train station—and it was so late that she doubted any trains would still be running.

‘Are you all right?’

Her eyes widened a little at the unexpected concern in Blaise Walker’s voice, and the warm, gravelly resonance caused an involuntarily tingle in her body that reached all the way down to her toes.

‘I’m fine…thanks.’

‘Tell me straight—did he completely misread the situation?’

‘There wasn’t a situation to begin with! Except in his own twisted little mind, that is…It certainly wasn’t in mine’

Maya could have died, knowing Blaise Walker’s disturbing concentrated gaze was noting everything from the plunging cleavage of her tight-fitting velvet dress to the giveaway quiver of her fulsome lower lip. Flushing angrily, she tucked a glossy strand of black hair behind her ear and jutted her chin, green eyes flashing indignant emerald fire.

‘He admitted to me that he got me here under false pretences. Is it likely, under the circumstances, that I would encourage him? Look, Mr Walker…I’m just a temp who was hired to work for his PR company. I work hard to earn my pay, and at the end of the day I go home. I shouldn’t have to submit to the unwanted attentions of my boss for the privilege, should I?’

Considering the question, Blaise let his avid gaze fall on the agitated rise and fall of her chest. Her lush creamy breasts looked fit to burst from her gown at any moment, and God help him but all the blood in his body marched unerringly south.

‘Clearly you shouldn’t have to submit to anything of the kind, Miss Hayward. By the way—you do have a first name, I presume?’

‘Maya.’

She hesitated at the door of her bedroom, exhaling a long, resigned breath as she twisted the brass doorknob and pushed it open.

‘I’m sorry you had to witness that distasteful little scene. I really hope you won’t let it prejudice you against using Mr Faraday’s company to promote you. He has some good people working for him—I shouldn’t like what happened to backfire negatively on them.’

‘Your concern is admirable in the light of his quite appalling behaviour. But I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what the outcome will be, won’t we?’

After assessing her with a maddeningly enigmatic glance, Blaise turned and started to walk back down the corridor. When he’d travelled just a couple of feet away he looked back, and with a confident little smile said, ‘I don’t think you’ll have anything more to fear from your troublesome boss tonight. With the amount of alcohol he’s consumed no doubt he’ll enjoy the sleep of the dead. One word of caution, though—I’d really advise against wearing that dress at any future function, unless you’re prepared to handle the very particular kind of attention it generates…’ Lacking the courage just then to even meet his eyes, Maya mumbled a barely audible goodnight, hurried inside her room and bolted the door firmly behind her—as hurriedly as if she’d just been chased up the corridor by a herd of wild buffalo…

CHAPTER TWO

AWAKE since dawn, Maya chose not to linger in bed. Instead she got up, took a brief hot shower, then quickly dressed. Leaving her bags momentarily in the silent corridor, where behind closed doors Jonathan and his guests were still sleeping off the excesses of the night before, she took the risk of slipping a note under her boss’s door. A note that clearly outlined the reasons why she couldn’t stay and act as his assistant for the rest of the weekend and concluded with telling him that as soon as they returned to the office he could expect her resignation. Then, with her heart nervously tripping, Maya carried her bags downstairs.

If truth be known she couldn’t wait to get away from this house—away from her licentious boss and the cloud of deceit that had brought her there—away from his shallow moneyed friends who, when she’d been trying to make conversation, had looked right through her but had not really ‘seen’ her at all. It gave her an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu, being around people like that. It was too reminiscent of her childhood and those interminable painful gatherings of her father’s, with his so-called ‘friends’—acquaintances who had petted Maya like a puppy when it suited them and told her to get lost when it hadn’t, because she was cramping their style when they were drinking, drug-taking or trying to seduce someone.

Right now all she wanted was to return to her own little place, to what was comforting and familiar. She would have said to what was safe too, but since Maya had almost never experienced such a condition she bit her lip on the thought and shelved it away in some clandestine corner of her mind, where she would endeavour to forget about it for a while.

‘So…I’m not the only early riser around here, I see.’

Intent on leafing through the Yellow Pages she’d found in the hallway for a cab number, Maya glanced round, startled at the appearance of the owner of that low, provocative male voice. Lord, have mercy!

Dressed from head to toe in enigmatic black, Blaise Walker resembled a dangerous secret fantasy come to blood-pounding, heart-racing life, with his dark gold hair swept sleekly back from his strong sculpted face and his sizzling bold glance that now, in the light of day, she saw was a magnetic Mediterranean blue. She couldn’t attest to breathing at all as she stared back at him, but for several dizzying seconds the same roaring exhilaration pounded through her bloodstream that she imagined a Formula One driver must experience when he’d successfully negotiated a treacherous bend at devastating speed…

‘Good morning. I’m always up early, I’m afraid…I’m not one of those people who can lie in bed ‘til late. Besides…’ sensing heat suffuse her, Maya defied any woman with a libido to say the word ‘bed’ in front of a gorgeous male specimen like Blaise Walker and not be consumed with heat’…just as soon as I can get a cab I’m making my way home.’

‘So you’ve decided not to stay?’

‘To be honest, I don’t think that would be a very good idea—and I think my boss would probably agree. I don’t doubt he can’t wait to be rid of me after last night.’

‘You mean because you didn’t play along with his drunken and rather crass attempt at seduction?’

Casually sliding a hand into one of his trouser pockets, Blaise moved with compelling masculine grace towards Maya. A tantalising smile played round his well-cut lips that might have been mockery, curiosity, or perhaps even sympathy—who knew? That aside, his blunt description brought back afresh the sickening fear that had shuddered through her when Jonathan had been leering down into her cleavage and pinning her up against the wall.

‘You call that seduction? It was horrible! Just horrible! He had no right to—’ Her face flaming with embarrassment and a silent deepening fury at her boss’s totally reprehensible and rough treatment of her, Maya raked a shaky hand through her newly washed hair. ‘He’ll be doubly embarrassed that you saw it happen. I expect he’ll also be furious that I rejected him. I’d rather not stay here and find out his reaction, to tell you the truth.’

Moving her still trembling fingers down the appropriate thin page of the phone book, she located a number, then glanced back at the six-feet-something of powerfully arresting, hard-muscled male standing less than a foot away from her. Every cell in her body seemed to be drowning in the most compelling, exquisitely painful awareness of him, and she didn’t feel a bit prepared to deal with the fact.

Feeling as if his sharp gaze saw every self-conscious move she made, she turned to lay the book back down on the polished chiffonier.

‘I’d better phone for a cab. Excuse me…’

‘Where do you need a lift to?’

‘The nearest station.’

‘To catch a train to where? London?’

‘Yes…Camden.’

‘Don’t bother phoning a cab. I’ll take you.’

‘But the nearest station is fifteen miles away! What about Jonathan?’

‘What about him?’

‘Don’t you and he have a meeting this morning?’

The blue eyes that reminded Maya of perfectly still twin oceans that could no doubt seethe and turn stormy along with the best of deceptively calm seas stared back at her, as if the agreed meeting was of very little account indeed. Knowing from Jonathan’s assistant Caroline what mercenary methods her boss regularly employed in order for his agency to represent the ‘hot’ names of the moment when up against the competition, Maya couldn’t help but wonder what her boss had done to pull off this particular coup. In the world of theatre Blaise Walker’s name was definitely hotter than hot. She knew that was true because she regularly scanned the Entertainment and Arts pages of the papers, to see what was on in the West End, and she had read the fulsome and glowing accolades his work commanded as well as seeing the ‘Sold Out’ notices on the billboards.

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 know 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?’

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