Praise for JESSICA HART:

About A BRIDE FOR BARRA CREEK

“Jessica Hart pens a gripping tale….”

—Romantic Times

About TEMPORARY ENGAGEMENT

“Jessica Hart creates…characters who energize the plot and keep you laughing out loud.”

—Romantic Times

About KISSING SANTA

“Jessica Hart delivers delightful reading….”

—Romantic Times

Harlequin Romance® is thrilled to present the second book in this lively new trilogy from JESSICA HART:

They’re on the career ladder, but just one step away from the altar!

Meet Phoebe, Kate and Bella…

When their best friend gets married, these friends suddenly realize that they’re fast approaching thirty and haven’t yet found Mr. Right—or even Mr. Maybe!

Living together in the center of London is a lot of fun, but they refuse to admit that they spend more time gossiping and groaning about the lack of eligible men than actually looking for one….

But that’s about to change.

If fate won’t lend a hand, they’ll make their own luck. Whether it’s a hired date or an engagement of convenience, they’re determined that the next wedding invitation they see will be one of their own!

Look out for Bella’s story in Harlequin Romance®

A Whirlwind Engagement (#3765)

The Blind-Date Proposal
Jessica Hart

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ONE

‘WHAT time do you call this?’

Finn looked up, scowling, as Kate knocked on his door with some trepidation.

She looked at her watch. ‘It’s…er…nearly quarter to ten.’

‘And you’re supposed to start at what time?’

‘Nine o’clock.’

Kate was horribly aware of her pink face. She was hot and flustered, having run up the escalator from the tube and all the way to the office, where she had panted past the surprised receptionist to fall into the lift. Somewhere along the line she had laddered her tights, and a tentative glance in the mirror was enough to confirm that her hair, a mass of wild brown curls hard to control at best of times, was tangled and windblown.

Not a good start to the day.

She was at a distinct disadvantage compared to Finn, too. In his grey suit and his pristine shirt, her new boss had always seemed to Kate buttoned up in more ways than one. He had a severe face, steely grey eyes and strong dark brows which were usually pulled together in a frown and whenever he looked at Kate, like now, his mouth was clamped together in a disapproving line.

‘I know I’m late, and I’m really sorry,’ she said breathlessly and, oblivious to Finn’s discouraging expression, she launched into a long and convoluted explanation of how she had befriended an elderly lady confused by the underground system and intimidated by the rudeness of officials.

‘I couldn’t just leave her there,’ she finished at last, ‘so I took her to Paddington and showed her where to find her train.’

‘Paddington not being on your way here?’

‘Not exactly…’

‘One might even say that it was in completely the opposite direction,’ Finn went on in the same snide tone.

‘Not quite opposite,’ said Kate, mentally consulting her tube map.

‘So you got halfway here and then turned and headed off in a completely different direction, even though you must have known that there was no way you’d be able to get to work on time?’

‘I had to,’ Kate protested. ‘She was so upset. There was no reason for everyone to be so rude to her,’ she remembered indignantly. ‘Her English wasn’t that good, and she couldn’t be expected to know where she was going and how to get there. How would that ticket collector like it if he had to find his way around…oh, I don’t know…the Amazon, say…where he didn’t know the language and nobody could be bothered to help him?’

Finn looked at her wearily. ‘You’re mistaking me for someone who cares,’ he said. ‘The only thing I care about right now is keeping this company going, and it’s not that easy with a PA who turns up whenever she feels like it! Alison makes a point of arriving ten minutes before nine every day,’ he added pointedly. ‘She’s always reliable.’

Not so reliable that she didn’t break her leg on a skiing holiday, Kate thought, but didn’t say out loud. She was sick of hearing about Alison, Finn’s perfect PA who was discreet and efficient and immaculately dressed and who reputedly typed at the speed of light. She could probably read Finn’s mind too, Kate had decided sourly after he had shouted at her for not being able to find a file that he himself had dumped onto her desk. Alison’s desk, of course, was always tidy.

The only marvel was that Alison had been careless enough to break her leg, leaving Finn to get through eight weeks without her.

He wasn’t finding it easy. Already two temps had left in tears, unable to cope with the impossible standards Alison had set. Kate was just surprised that she had hung in as long as she had. This was her third week and, judging by Finn’s expression, it might well be her last.

She wasn’t surprised the others had given up. Finn McBride gave a whole new dimension to the notion of grumpiness and he had an unpleasantly sarcastic edge to his tongue. If she hadn’t been desperate for a job, she would have been tempted to walk out on him as well.

‘I said I was sorry,’ she said a little sullenly. ‘Not that I should have to apologise for community spirit,’ she went on, still too fired up by her encounter that morning to be able to summon up the correct degree of subservience that no doubt came naturally to Alison.

Finn was unimpressed. His cold grey eyes raked her from head to foot, taking in every detail of her tangled hair and dishevelled clothes and stopping with exasperation on her laddered tights.

‘I encourage my staff to do what I pay them to do,’ he said frigidly, ‘and that’s what they do. You, on the other hand, appear to think that I should pay you to breeze in and distract everyone else in the office all day.’

Kate gaped at the unfairness of it. She had made efforts to get to know the rest of the staff, but without any great success. They didn’t seem to be great ones for gossiping and, on the few occasions she had managed to strike up a conversation, Finn had been safely shut in his office. He must have X-ray eyes if he had noticed her talking to anyone!

‘I don’t distract anyone,’ she protested.

‘It sounds that way to me,’ said Finn. ‘You’re always out in the corridor or in the other offices chatting.’

‘It’s called social interaction,’ said Kate, provoked. ‘It’s what humans do, not that you’d know that of course. It’s like working with robots in this office,’ she went on, forgetting for a moment how much she needed this job. ‘I’m lucky if I get a good morning from you, and even that I have to translate from a grunt!’

The dark brows twitched together into a terrifying glare. ‘Alison never complains.’

‘Maybe Alison likes being treated like just another piece of office equipment,’ she said tartly. ‘It wouldn’t kill you to show a little interest occasionally.’

Finn glowered at her, and Kate wondered whether he was so unused to anyone daring to argue with him that he was taken aback.

If so, he soon recovered. ‘I haven’t time to waste the day bolstering your ego,’ he snapped.

‘It doesn’t take long to be pleasant.’ Kate refused to be cowed now. ‘You could always start with something easy like “how are you?”, or “have a nice weekend”,’ she suggested. ‘And then, when you’d got the hang of that, you could work up to trickier phrases like “thank you for all your help today”.’

‘I can’t see me having much need of that one while you’re around,’ said Finn nastily. ‘And frankly, even if I did, I don’t see why I should change my habits for you. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m the boss here, so if you can’t cope without constant attention, you’d better say so now and I’ll get Personnel to find me another temp for Monday!’

That was enough to pull Kate up short. She really couldn’t afford to lose this job. The agency had been reluctant enough to send her as it was and, if she messed this up, she’d be lucky if they didn’t drop her from their books.

‘I can cope,’ she said quickly. ‘I just don’t like it.’

‘You don’t have to like it,’ said Finn tersely. ‘You just have to get on with it. Now, can we get on? We’ve wasted quite enough time this morning.’

He barely allowed Kate time to take off her coat before she had to endure a long and exhausting session being dictated to at top speed without so much as a suggestion that she might like a cup of coffee before she started. What with befriending old ladies and diversions to Paddington, she hadn’t had time to grab her usual cappuccino from the Italian coffee bar by the tube station, and the craving for caffeine did nothing to improve her temper.

She simmered as her pen raced over the page—at this rate she would get repetitive strain injury—and could barely restrain a sigh of relief when the phone rang. A breather at last!

Holding her aching wrist with exaggerated care, so that Finn might take the hint and slow down—although there was fat chance of that!—Kate studied him surreptitiously under her lashes. He was listening to the person on the other end of the phone, grunting the occasional acknowledgement, and absently drawing heavy black boxes on a piece of paper on the desk in front of him.

Doodling was supposed to be highly revealing about your personality. What did black boxes mean? Kate wondered. Probably indicative of someone deeply repressed. That would fit with his closed expression and that reserved uptight air of his.

Although not with that air of fierce energy.

Or his mouth, come to think of it.

Kate jerked her eyes quickly away. She looked instead at the framed photograph that stood on his desk, the only personal touch in the otherwise austerely efficient office. From where she sat, she could only see the stand, but she knew it showed an absolutely beautiful woman with dark hair and enormous dark blue eyes, holding the most gorgeous baby, and both smiling at the camera.

Finn’s wife, Kate had assumed, marvelling that he had had enough social skills to ask anyone to marry him, let alone a beauty like that. It was hard to imagine him smiling or kissing or even holding a baby, let alone making love.

Bizarre thought. An odd feeling snaked down Kate’s spine and she shook herself slightly, only to find herself looking straight into Finn’s glacial grey eyes. He had finished his phone call while she was distracted and was watching her with an expression of exasperated resignation.

‘Are you awake?’

‘Yes.’ Faint colour tinged Kate’s cheeks as she sat up straighter and picked up her notebook once more.

‘Read back that last bit.’

Please, Kate wanted to mutter, but decided on reflection that this might not be the day to try and teach Finn some manners. His brusqueness left her feeling crotchety and, when he finally let her go, she took out her bad temper on her keyboard, bashing away furiously until the phone rang.

‘Yes?’ she snapped, too cross to bother with the usual introductory spiel.

‘It’s Phoebe.’

‘Oh, Phoebe…hi.’

‘What’s up? You sound very grumpy.’

‘It’s just my boss here,’ Kate grumbled. ‘He’s so rude and unpleasant. I know you thought working for Celia was bad, but honestly, he gives a whole new dimension to the idea of the boss from hell.’

‘As long as he’s not a creep like your last boss,’ said Phoebe bracingly.

Kate wrinkled her nose remembering her ignominious departure from her last job, where her boss hadn’t even made a pretence of listening to her side of the story once Seb had got in first. Seb, of course, was an executive, and she was just a secretary and by implication dispensable.

‘No, I don’t think you could call him a creep,’ she said judiciously, ‘but that doesn’t make him any easier to deal with.’

‘Attractive?’ asked Phoebe.

‘Quite,’ Kate admitted grudgingly. ‘In a stern sort of way, I suppose. If you like the dour, my-work-is-my-life type—which I happen to know that you don’t!’

‘I don’t think anyone could call Gib dour, no,’ said Phoebe.

They both laughed, and Kate felt a lot better. It was wonderful to hear Phoebe so happy. The transformation in her friend since she had married Gib a few months ago had been remarkable, and it made up for her own dismal love life since Seb had dumped her so unceremoniously. She didn’t even get wolf-whistles in the street any more, Kate thought glumly.

‘I was just ringing to remind you about supper tonight,’ Phoebe was saying. ‘You are coming, aren’t you?’

‘Of course,’ said Kate, but Phoebe pounced on her momentary hesitation.

‘What?’

‘Well, it’s just that Bella hinted that you might be setting me up on a blind date tonight.’

‘She shouldn’t have told you!’ Phoebe sounded really cross. ‘I only told her because I invited her and Josh as well so it would seem more casual, but she’s met some new man who’s taking her to some swanky club tonight instead. Josh is coming, though,’ she added reassuringly, ‘so it won’t be too much of a set-up.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Because I wanted you both to be natural, and I knew you wouldn’t be if you were nervous about whether he liked you or not.’

‘Hhmmnn.’ Kate wasn’t entirely convinced. ‘What have you told him about me?’

‘That you’re a high-powered PA—which you could easily be if you put your mind to it!’ said Phoebe. ‘He’s got his own consultancy or something, so I wasn’t sure if he’d be that impressed by you temping, but apart from that we told him the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth,’ she finished virtuously.

‘Oh, the truth!’ said Kate, her voice heavy with irony. ‘And what’s that, exactly?’

‘That you’re warm and funny and attractive and basically completely wonderful,’ Phoebe said firmly.

Perhaps she should ask Phoebe to put in some PR for her with Finn McBride, Kate thought, and then frowned slightly as she realised that she had been unconsciously doodling in her turn as she listened to Phoebe.

At least she didn’t go in for severe black boxes. She had done her favourite, a tropical sunset complete with leaning palm tree and a couple of wiggly lines to indicate the lagoon rippling gently against the shore. What did that indicate about her?

Probably that she was a hopeless fantasist, in which case she could save herself the cost of a professional analysis. She already knew that she was far too romantic for her own good. People had been telling her for years that she needed to shape up, get real, wake up and smell the coffee, and do all the other things that simply didn’t come naturally to her.

Suppressing a sigh, Kate carefully added a bunch of coconuts to the palm tree. ‘So won’t he wonder why if I’m that perfect I’m reduced to being set up on blind dates by friends? Why aren’t men falling at my feet wherever I go?’

‘I don’t know. Why aren’t they?’

That was one of the things Kate liked about Phoebe. She really believed in her friends.

Kate put down her pen and forced herself to concentrate. Perhaps all this was a sign to stop dreaming about Seb miraculously turning into a different person and to start making an effort to meet someone new. To wake up and smell the coffee, in fact.

‘So what’s he like, this guy?’

‘I’ve never met him,’ Phoebe had to admit. ‘He’s an old friend of Gib’s.’

‘How old, exactly?’

‘In his early forties, I think.’

‘Just coming up for his mid-life crisis then,’ said Kate with an uncharacteristic touch of cynicism.

‘He’s already had more than enough crises,’ said Phoebe soberly. ‘He’s a widower. His wife died when their daughter was just a toddler, and he’s been struggling to bring her up on his own ever since.’

‘Oh, how awful,’ said Kate, her ready sympathy roused and feeling instantly guilty for her flip comment. ‘It must have been terrible for him.’

‘Well, yes, I gather it was. Gib says he absolutely adored his wife, but it’s six years ago now, and he’s thinking that his little girl is getting to the stage when she really needs a woman around. He’s out of the way of dating, though, and since you were complaining about not meeting any men, Gib suggested a casual supper to introduce you. It’s no big deal, but he thought you might get on.’

‘I don’t know that I’m really stepmother material,’ said Kate doubtfully. ‘I don’t know anything about children.’

‘Nonsense!’ Phoebe wasn’t having any of that. ‘Look how good you are with animals, and children are just the same. They need someone to take them under her wing, and you know what a soft heart you’ve got for lame ducks.’

‘Yes, but I don’t want to go out with a lame duck,’ Kate protested. ‘I want someone sexy and exciting and glamorous.’

Like Seb.

The same thought was clearly in Phoebe’s mind. ‘No you don’t,’ she said firmly. ‘You want someone kind.’

Kate sighed. ‘Why can’t I have someone who’s kind and sexy and exciting and glamorous?’

‘Because I married him,’ said Phoebe smugly. ‘Now listen, this guy’s had a hard time, so be nice to him.’

‘Oh, all right,’ grumbled Kate. ‘What’s his name, anyway—’ She broke off as Finn’s door opened. ‘Uh-oh, here comes Mr Grumpy! I’d better go—I’m not supposed to use the phone for personal calls. See you later.’ She put the phone down hastily.

Finn looked at her with a suspicious frown. ‘Who was that?’

Well, she wasn’t going to tell him the truth and, although she could have made up something innocuous, Kate had an irrepressibly inventive streak and as a matter of principle resisted the simple option when she could complicate matters. She embarked instead on a long, involved and utterly untrue story, inventing an accountant who had met Alison skiing but who had subsequently been on a business trip to Singapore and had only just heard about the accident and, remembering that Alison had told him where she worked, now wanted to know where to send a card.

‘I said it would be all right if he sent it here and we would forward it,’ she finished, having embroidered the story with so many details that she almost believed it herself.

Finn’s expression was glazed with irritation by the time she got to the end. ‘I wish I’d never asked,’ he sighed. ‘You’ve just wasted a quarter of an hour of my life!’

‘It’s not as if we do brain surgery here,’ said Kate, a trifle sullenly. ‘I don’t see what difference fifteen minutes here or there makes.’

‘In that case, you won’t mind staying late tonight to make up for the hour you missed this morning,’ Finn said with an unpleasant look. ‘We’ve got an extremely important project coming up and I need to get this done to fax to the States before tomorrow morning.’

‘I can’t, I’m afraid,’ she said, not sounding at all regretful. ‘I’m going out.’

Finn frowned. ‘Can’t you ring and say you’ll be a bit late?’

For anyone else, Kate would have offered to do just that, but something about Finn McBride rubbed her up the wrong way. It wasn’t as if he had made the slightest effort to be pleasant to her.

‘Oh, I don’t think my boyfriend would like that very much,’ she said instead, trying for the unconscious smugness that so often seemed to accompany the words ‘my boyfriend’.

‘You’ve got a boyfriend?’ Finn was unflatteringly surprised, and Kate bridled. It was bad enough putting up with his rudeness without knowing that he thought her incapable of attracting a man as well!

‘Oh, yes,’ she said, determined to convince him that while she might not be a perfect PA, somebody wanted her. ‘In fact,’ she went on, leaning forward confidentially, ‘he’s taking me somewhere really special tonight. I think he might be going to pop the question!’

‘Really?’ Finn raised a contemptuous eyebrow, not even bothering to try and hide his disbelief.

How rude, thought Kate indignantly. He clearly didn’t think she was the kind of girl who would get a man at all, let alone one who wanted to marry her.

Her brown eyes narrowed. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said on her mettle. ‘Didn’t you know? That’s why I’m temping. Ever since I met—’

She searched wildly for a name before remembering Bella’s current and very glamorous man. Your best friend’s boyfriend was normally out of bounds, but she didn’t think Bella would mind her borrowing him mentally.

‘—Will,’ she carried on after the tiniest beat, ‘we’ve both known that we were meant for each other. He’s a financial analyst,’ she went on breezily, deciding that she might as well take Will’s career as well, ‘so I didn’t want to commit to a permanent job when he might be posted to New York or Tokyo at any minute. Of course, he keeps saying to me, “Darling, there’s no need for you to go out to work every day,” but I feel it’s important to keep some financial independence, don’t you?’

‘I wouldn’t have thought your earnings as a temp would make much difference if you’re living with a financial analyst,’ said Finn with something not a million miles from a sneer.

‘It’s a matter of principle,’ said Kate airily, quite enjoying the thought of herself destined for a life of expatriate luxury.

Finn turned back to his office. ‘Perhaps you could make it a matter of principle to turn up on time tomorrow,’ he said nastily. ‘That would make a nice change.’

It was a pity she wasn’t as good at real life as she was at inventing it, Kate reflected glumly as the bus inched through the rush hour traffic, vibrating noisily. Wouldn’t it be nice to be going home to a real adoring man with pots of money and to be told that she never had to go and work for the likes of Finn McBride ever again?

Kate sighed and rubbed the condensation from the window with her sleeve and peered down at the crowds hurrying along Piccadilly in the rain. They all seemed to know exactly where they were going. Why was she the only one who drifted along from one muddle to the next?

Look at her. Thirty-two and what did she have to show for it? No career, no home of her own, no relationship. The only thing she had gained over the last few years was twenty pounds. Even the misery diet hadn’t worked for her. When their hearts got broken the weight fell off her friends, but comfort eating had been the only way Kate could deal with losing Seb and her job together before Christmas. A double whammy.

Fortified by Bella and Phoebe and a good deal of champagne, Kate had resolved that things would change in the New Year. She was going to sharpen up her act. She would get another, better job and another, better man, she vowed. She would lose weight and start going to the gym and get her life under control.

It was just that all those things seemed a lot easier to achieve after a bottle or two of champagne. It was February already, and her New Year resolutions were still at the talking stage.

She ought at least to have found herself a proper job by now, but nothing was being advertised—no doubt everyone was staying put while they paid off their Christmas credit card bills—and even temping hadn’t proved to be the guaranteed fall-back position she had assumed. Nobody seemed to be getting flu this year, and Kate had been about to sign on as a waitress at the local wine bar when Alison had broken her leg.

Tomorrow, Kate told herself. She would buy a paper and check out the appointments page, go to the gym on her way home and cook herself something healthy and non-fattening for supper.

Tomorrow would see the start of the new Kate.

Bella was eating toast in the kitchen with her hair in rollers when Kate let herself into the house. Since Phoebe had married and moved in with Gib, the two of them and Kate’s surly cat had had the Tooting house to themselves.

The cat was waiting, a brooding presence by the fridge, and Kate knew better than to try and sit down until he had been fed. He was more than capable of shredding her ankles, so she fished out a packet of the over-priced cat food that was all he would accept and forked it into his bowl before she had even taken off her coat.

‘I thought you were going out?’ she said to Bella, eyeing the toast enviously.

Bella could eat whatever she liked and still not put on weight. ‘Metabolism,’ she said cheerfully whenever she was challenged by her less fortunate friends. She was ridiculously pretty, a blue-eyed blonde with legs that went on forever and a sunny disposition. The worst thing about Bella, Kate and Phoebe had often agreed, was that it was impossible to hate her.

‘I am, but Will’s taking me to some incredibly cool restaurant where the portions are bound to be tiny. I thought I’d have something to eat now so I don’t pig out when I get there. Anyway, I’m hungry,’ Bella added simply.

Lucky Bella, going out with the gorgeous Will while she got some poor old widower who needed someone to be nice to him. Kate sighed to herself. Typical.

Without thinking she dropped a slice of bread into the toaster.

Bella pointed her piece of toast at her. ‘You’ll regret that,’ she warned through a mouthful. ‘Gib always cooks enough for an army. Anyway, I thought you were on a diet?’

‘There’s not much point in starting a diet when I’m going out to dinner,’ said Kate, taking off her coat at last. ‘And we’ve got to eat up all the fattening food before we can restock with the healthy stuff.’

It was a good enough excuse to slather butter on her toast as she told Bella about borrowing Will mentally. ‘I wasn’t going to tell Finn McBride that I was just going on a blind date with a sad widower.’

‘A widower?’

Kate told her the little she had learnt from Phoebe. ‘It doesn’t sound like it’s going to be a bundle of laughs, does it?’

‘Come on, he might be gorgeous,’ said Bella.

‘Not with my luck,’ grumbled Kate, but she did her best to talk herself into a more positive frame of mind as she got ready to go out. Perhaps Bella was right. Perhaps a fabulous hunk of manhood was going to walk into her life tonight and sweep her off her feet. It had to be her turn sometime soon, surely?

Just in case, she dressed carefully in a flounced dress whose plunging neckline showed off her best assets. At least there were some advantages to having a figure like hers. It was just a shame that a curvaceous bust came with equally curvy hips and thighs and tummy.

Wriggling her feet into high heels, she felt instantly taller and therefore better. Kate had often thought that life would be so much easier if only she had slightly longer legs. An extra couple of inches wouldn’t have been asking too much now, would it? And a couple less around her hips, which would have balanced her out nicely.

She studied her reflection in the mirror. Amazing what a bit of make-up could do. In a dim light she might even pass for exotic. The warm red in her dress gave her a vaguely gipsyish look that went quite well with her tumbling brown curls and vibrant lipstick. Would the widower be into gipsies? Somehow Kate felt not. Perhaps she should have gone for a rather more demure look?

Could she carry off demure? Kate wondered, unaware that she had lost track of time. It was only when Will arrived to pick up Bella that she thought to look at her watch, and gave a yelp of fright. How could it be eight o’clock already?

It was little comfort to know that Bella wasn’t ready either. Will was reading the paper resignedly in the kitchen, and he raised a laconic hand in greeting as Kate teetered down in her heels to ring for a minicab.

‘It’ll be another twenty minutes,’ said the bored voice at the other end of the phone.

Oh, God, now she would be really late. Punctuality was another of Kate’s New Year resolutions that didn’t seem to be working out as planned.

‘Sorry, sorry, sorry,’ Kate gabbled when she finally arrived at almost quarter to nine, practically falling in the door when Phoebe opened it. ‘I know I’m late, but I really didn’t mean to be. Please don’t be cross with me! It’s just been one of those days.’

‘It’s always one of those days with you, Kate,’ said Phoebe, trying to sound severe as she gave her friend an affectionate hug.

Kate hung her head. ‘I know, I know, but I am trying to get better.’ She lowered her voice conspiratorially. ‘Is he here? What’s he like?’

‘A bit stiff—no, reserved would be a better word,’ Phoebe corrected herself. ‘But he’s very nice when you get to know him, and he’s got a lovely smile. I think he’s quite attractive, too.’

‘Really?’ A hot widower after all! Kate perked up. Things were sounding promising. ‘No beard?’

‘No.’

‘Beer belly? Wet lips?’

‘No!’ Phoebe was laughing now. ‘Come and see for yourself.’

Maybe her luck had changed. Smoothing down her top, Kate took a deep breath and followed Phoebe into the sitting room.

‘Here’s Kate,’ she heard her say, but Kate had already stopped dead as she saw who was standing by the mantelpiece with Gib and Josh. He had turned at Phoebe’s words, and she had a nasty feeling that his expression of horror only mirrored her own.

It was Finn McBride.

Then he was blocked from her view temporarily as Gib came towards her, grinning. ‘Kate!’ he cried, sweeping her up into a warm hug. ‘Late as usual!’

‘I’ve already grovelled to Phoebe,’ Kate said returning his hug and hoping against hope that she had been mistaken and that when Gib moved she would see that the stranger wasn’t Finn at all, but just someone who looked like him and either didn’t care for the gipsy look or disapproved of unpunctuality. Or both.

But no. Gib was turning with his arm still around her to face the others and there was no doubt about it. There stood Finn, looking as if he had been turned to stone to match the granite of his expression.

Clearly not enjoying discovering that he had been set up on a blind date with his own secretary.

Mortified beyond belief, Kate considered her options. Wishing that she had never been born came top of her list, closely followed by that old cliché, a bit tired but effective nonetheless, of wanting the ground to open up and swallow her.

Could she get away with pretending to faint? Probably not, she decided regretfully. She wasn’t the fainting type.

Which just left brazening it out.

CHAPTER TWO

‘HELLO.’ Plastering on an artificially bright smile, she stared Finn straight in the eyes, daring him to acknowledge her. Finn looked back at her with a glacial grey gaze.

‘Kate, this is Finn McBride,’ said Gib. ‘We’ve been telling him all about you.’

Great, thought Kate. Now Finn would know just how sad her life was.

She stuck out her hand and Finn didn’t have much choice but to take it. ‘Kate Savage,’ she introduced herself in a brittle voice, trying not to notice the feel of his fingers closed around hers. In spite of his obvious reluctance, his clasp was firm and warm, much warmer than she had expected, and she snatched her hand away, oddly unsettled.

‘You’re being very formal, Kate,’ said Gib amused. ‘At least I don’t need to bother introducing you to Josh.’ He turned to Finn. ‘Josh practically lives with Kate.’

‘Oh?’ said Finn coldly.

‘Kate shares a house with a very good friend of mine,’ Josh explained, and the quick smile he gave Kate was sympathetic. He had obviously been told that he was there to make it less obvious that this was a blind date, although his presence wasn’t fooling Finn one little bit. ‘How are you, Kate? I haven’t seen you for a while.’

‘I’m fine.’ Apart from wanting to die of embarrassment, that was.

Phoebe handed Kate a glass of wine. ‘Finn’s just been telling us about his disastrous experiences with temps in his office,’ she said cheerfully. ‘We thought you could give him a few tips on how to handle them.’

Oh, yes, Gib and Phoebe had built her up into a topflight PA, hadn’t they? As if her humiliation wasn’t complete enough!

‘Really?’ Kate produced an acidic smile. ‘It does seem to be difficult getting good secretarial staff these days! What’s wrong with the temp you’ve got?’

‘She doesn’t seem to have any idea of time-keeping for a start,’ said Finn with a sardonic glance at the clock on the mantelpiece. No doubt he had been here on the stroke of eight, long before Phoebe and Gib would have been ready for him. ‘She’s completely unreliable.’

Unreliable, was she? Kate took a defiant gulp of her wine. ‘It doesn’t sound as if she has much motivation to work for you. Why would that be, do you think?’

Finn shrugged. ‘Sheer laziness?’ he suggested. ‘She seems to have a very vivid fantasy life too,’ he went on and Kate coloured in spite of herself, remembering how she was supposed to be sitting here being proposed to right now by a financial analyst called Will.

No doubt Gib and Phoebe had already filled him in on her disastrous relationship with Seb, and even if they hadn’t he would still know that story wasn’t true either. After all, if she had a financial analyst to go home to, she wouldn’t be the kind of sad person who needed to be set up on blind dates by friends.

Kate suppressed a sigh. Could things get any worse?

‘It can be just as bad on the other side of fence,’ Phoebe was saying loyally. ‘Tell them about your horrible boss, Kate. He sounds ghastly.’

Ah. They could get worse.

‘Oh?’ said Finn, thin-lipped. ‘Why’s that?’

Oh, well. In for a penny, in for a pound. She might as well take the opportunity to tell him what she thought, and it wasn’t as if he had spared her feelings!

‘He’s just generally rude and unpleasant,’ she told him. ‘He doesn’t seem to have even the most basic social skills. He can hardly be bothered to say “good morning” and as for “please” and “thank you”…well, I might as well ask him to talk Polish!’

A muscle had begun to beat in Finn’s jaw. ‘Perhaps he’s busy.’

‘Being busy isn’t an excuse for not having any manners,’ said Kate, meeting his gaze levelly.

‘He’s absolute death on personal calls in the office as well,’ Phoebe put in, apparently unaware of the antagonism simmering between Finn and Kate. ‘Kate’s always having to put down the phone in the middle of a conversation when his door opens, and we can be in the middle of a really good chat when she suddenly starts putting on an official voice and telling us she’ll get back to us on that as soon as possible. That’s our cue to call back later when he’s gone! It’s very frustrating.’

She turned politely to Finn. ‘You let people in your office use the phone, don’t you?’

‘I don’t encourage it, no,’ he said with a nasty look at Kate, who was almost beyond caring by now.

She was obviously never going to be able to use the office phone again—not that Kate could imagine going into work again after this. On the scale of embarrassment, being blatantly fixed up with your boss must rank pretty high, she thought. It was certainly one of the most excruciating situations Kate had ever found herself in and, let’s face it, she had plenty to compare it to. Sometimes she seemed to spend her life lurching from one mortifying episode to another.

‘Access to phones and email for personal business is good for staff morale,’ she pointed out. ‘If you treated your staff like human beings who have a life outside work, I think you’d see productivity shoot up.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with our productivity,’ snapped Finn, and this time his irritability did catch the others’ attention. They looked at him a little curiously and he controlled his temper with an effort.

‘There’s a difference between dealing with a crisis, in which case of course staff can use the phones, and spending hours gossiping on my time,’ he said in a more reasonable voice.

‘Doesn’t your temp get the job done?’ Kate asked sweetly.

‘In a fashion,’ he admitted grudgingly.

‘Perhaps you should go and work for Finn,’ said Gib in such a blatant attempt to push them together that he might as well have shown them to the spare room and tucked them in to bed together. ‘You might get on better with him than with the boss you’ve got at the moment.’

‘Now, there’s an idea!’ said Kate as if much struck by the thought. ‘Have you got any jobs going at the moment?’

‘It’s very possible that there might be a vacancy for a temp in my office coming up,’ Finn said with something of a snap, ‘but that wouldn’t interest you, of course, you being such a high-flyer! Gib and Phoebe here were telling me that you practically run the company where you are at the moment. I’m not sure I could offer you anything that challenging.’

A hint of colour touched Kate’s cheekbones at his sarcasm. ‘No, well, I’m thinking of changing career anyway,’ she told him loftily.

‘Really?’ the other three all said together.

‘Yes,’ she said, thinking that it wouldn’t be such a bad idea, come to that. It didn’t look as if she had much future in the secretarial world, anyway. ‘I’m sick of being treated like a lower life form, so I’ve been thinking that I might…what’s the word?…downscale.’

‘Downscale?’ Josh echoed doubtfully, clearly wondering how it was possible for her to downscale from her current position. Being a temp was hardly the giddy heights of a career, was it?

‘Or do I mean diversify?’ said Kate. ‘Do something different anyway. Think out of the box. Use my talents.’

‘What exactly are your talents?’ Finn asked, the sardonic lift of his brows belying the apparent interest in his voice.

Yes, what were her talents? Kate’s normally fertile imagination went inconveniently blank at the very moment she needed it most.

‘She’s a great cook,’ Phoebe prompted, evidently still under the impression that Kate might make a suitable wife for Finn.

For some reason it was only at this point that Kate made the connection and remembered that his presence here meant that Finn was a widower. She had been so shocked to see him that she hadn’t thought beyond the awkwardness and antagonism, and now she felt suddenly contrite. That beautiful, glowing girl in that photo on his desk was dead. No wonder he seemed so grim.

Kate was conscious of a twinge of guilt about all the times she had thought Finn abrupt and rude, but then, how was she to know that his brusqueness hid a broken heart?

The others were still madly promoting her. ‘Kate’s a communicator,’ she heard Gib say. It was the kind of thing that made you realise just how long he’d spent in the States. ‘She’s got wonderful people skills.’

‘Not just people,’ said Josh dryly. ‘She’s pretty good when it comes to animals too. Remember that dog in the pub, Phoebe?’

‘God, yes.’ Phoebe gave an exaggerated shudder, and Josh grinned.

‘I still wake up in a cold sweat sometimes thinking about it,’ he told Finn. ‘Kate confronted a skinhead with huge hands and no neck. He was covered in tattoos and snarling and swearing at his dog. Kate told him he wasn’t fit to own an animal and took the dog away from him while the rest of us were dancing around in the background being mealy-mouthed and saying I’m not sure this is a good idea, Kate, why don’t you let the RSPCA deal with it? Meanwhile Kate was about half the size of this guy, and giving him a piece of her mind, and the rest of the pub was squaring up for a good fight.’

There was a flicker of interest in Finn’s eyes. ‘What happened to the dog?’

‘Oh, Kate got it,’ said Josh. ‘We knew she would. It was a savage Alsatian cross, and I wouldn’t have wanted to go near it myself, but Kate had it eating out of her hand in no time.’ He turned to Kate. ‘What did happen to that dog?’

‘I took him down to my parents,’ she said, uncomfortable with all this blatant promotion. ‘He’s spoiled to death now, of course, and getting much too fat.’

Finn glanced at Kate. ‘Do you think the dog really cared one way or another?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said, meeting his eyes defiantly. Why did people like Finn always have to make you feel so stupid and sentimental when it came to animals? ‘But someone had to.’

There was a tiny silence.

‘A word of warning,’ Gib confided to Finn. ‘Kate might look sweet and cuddly, but don’t ever try mistreating an animal when she’s around, or you’ll find yourself in big trouble! She’s got a hell of a temper when roused.’

Finn’s cold grey gaze flicked to Kate, whose cheeks were burning by this stage, and then away. ‘I’ll remember,’ he said.

‘What Kate really needs,’ said Phoebe as she ushered them all through to the dining room, ‘is a house in the country where she can make chutney and keep chickens and dogs and all the other stray people and animals that cross her path.’

‘No, I don’t,’ objected Kate. A big house in the country sounded perfect, but also a bit too much like she was hanging out to get married. She wasn’t having Finn thinking that she was desperate for a husband, certainly not desperate enough to consider him!

‘I’m a metropolitan chick, really,’ she said loftily. ‘I don’t think I’m ready to make jam yet. I was thinking more along the lines of PR—’ She broke off as Phoebe, Gib and Josh burst out laughing, and even Finn managed a sardonic smile. ‘What’s so funny?’ she demanded, offended.

‘Kate, darling, you’re not nearly tough enough for PR! You’d always side with the underdog regardless of what your client wanted. You might as well decide to be a brain surgeon!’

With that they were off, vying with each other to think up more unlikely careers that Kate could try. Josh’s suggestion—pest controller—was voted the best.

‘Kate would take all the rats home and make up little beds for them!’

Kate gritted her teeth. She could feel Finn watching her with a curling lip. He was probably one of those people who thought that a soft heart equalled a soft head.

She wouldn’t have minded so much if the other three hadn’t been so determined to push her as a homemaker. Couldn’t they see that Finn wasn’t the least bit impressed? Things got even worse over dinner when Phoebe manoeuvred the conversation, none too subtly, round to Finn and his daughter.

‘What’s her name?’

‘Alex,’ said Finn almost reluctantly.

Kate didn’t blame him. He could obviously see the subtext—how much he needed to get married again to provide his daughter with a stepmother—as clearly as she could, and she was conscious of a treacherous twinge of fellow feeling. He couldn’t be enjoying this any more than she was.

‘She’s nine,’ he added, evidently recognising that the information was going to be dragged out of him somehow, so he might as well get it over and done with.

‘It must have been very hard, bringing her up on your own,’ said Phoebe.

Finn shrugged. ‘Alex was only two when Isabel died, so I had various nannies to help. She never really took to any of them, though, and since she’s been at school full time we’ve managed with a housekeeper who comes in every day. She picks Alex up from school and cooks an evening meal, and she’ll stay with her if I’m late back from work.’

His voice was emotionless, as if his small daughter was just another logistical problem he had had to solve. It was Alex Kate felt sorry for, poor motherless child. Kate had never taken a phone call from her, or seen her at the office, so she clearly wasn’t encouraged to disturb Finn there. Having grown up with four brothers, Kate thought Alex’s life sounded very lonely. It couldn’t be much fun growing up with just a housekeeper and Finn for company.

Certainly not if Finn was always as boring as he was tonight. He was driving, so he drank very little, and although Kate couldn’t object to that, she did feel that he could at least look as if was enjoying himself.

He was obviously terrified that she was going to throw herself at him and force him to marry her. It was understandable, Kate supposed, after the way the others had built her up as a domestic goddess, but he needn’t worry. Getting together with him was the last thing on her mind. She wasn’t that desperate for a relationship!

Finn sat beside her at dinner, radiating disapproval as Kate laughed and drank rather too much wine and talked about clubbing and parties and generally made it clear that she was absolutely not in the market for uptight widowers, no matter how sorry she felt for his poor daughter. Of course, the more poker-faced and buttoned up he was, the more she she had to compensate for Phoebe and Gib’s sake. They had gone to so much effort, she felt that the least she could do was try and make it a successful evening.

Defiantly ignoring the way Finn was looking down his nose, Kate held out her glass for more wine. Anyone with a sense of occasion would relax and have a drink as well. They would agree to call a taxi and come and pick up the car in the morning, but the Finns of this world evidently didn’t do relaxing or having fun.

Of course, it was a bit tricky trying to impress her complete lack of concern on Finn and ignore him at the same time, especially when she was so aware of his austere presence beside her. It wasn’t that he didn’t contribute to the conversation, but he made it very clear that he thought Kate was too silly for words, which just made her nervous, and nervousness made her drink more until she was trapped in a vicious circle. As the evening wore on, she could hear herself getting louder and more outrageous, and had reached the owlish stage when Finn, obviously unable to bear any more, looked at his watch.

‘I must go,’ he said, pushing back his chair to forestall any objections.

‘I think you should go too,’ said Gib to Kate with a grin, ‘or you’ll never get to work tomorrow.’

Kate didn’t want to think about going into work. ‘Don’t talk about it,’ she groaned, closing her eyes, but that was a mistake. The room started to spin and she opened them again hastily, clutching her tousled curls instead.

‘I don’t suppose you could give her a lift home, could you?’ Gib asked Finn. ‘She can’t be trusted to get home alone in this state!’

‘I’m absolutely fine,’ Kate protested instantly, lifting her head and trying not to sway at the sudden movement. ‘I’m great!’

‘You’re fab,’ agreed Phoebe soothingly, helping her to her feet, ‘but it’s time to go. Finn’s going to take you home.’

‘Why can’t Josh take me?’

‘Because I haven’t got my car with me and I live in completely the opposite direction,’ said Josh ungallantly.

‘I’m very happy to give you a lift,’ said Finn with a certain grittiness, clearly feeling far from happy but unable to think of a good excuse.

Outside, it was raining and making a determined effort to sleet, if not actually to snow. Finn watched, resigned, as Gib and Phoebe helped Kate into her coat like a little girl for the short walk to the car, buttoning her up and kissing her goodnight before consigning her into his charge.

Kate thanked them both graciously for supper, although she had a sinking feeling that the words might have come out a bit slurred, and set off down the path, very much on her dignity. Unfortunately, the effect was spoilt by stumbling on her heels, and only Finn’s hand which shot out and gripped her arm stopped her landing smack on her bottom.

‘Careful!’ he said sharply.

‘Sorry, the path’s a bit slippy…slippery,’ Kate managed, wincing at the iron grip of his fingers. She tried to pull her arm away, but Finn kept a good hold of her as he marched her along to his car.

‘You’re the one that’s a bit slippy,’ he said acidly and opened the door with what Kate felt was unnecessarily ironic courtesy.

Tired of being treated like a child, she got in sulkily, and he shut it after her with an exasperated click.

The car was immaculate. There were no sweetie wrappers, no empty cans, no forgotten toys or scuffed seats. It was impossible to believe that a child had ever been in it, thought Kate, wondering where poor little Alex fitted into Finn’s efficiently streamlined life.

Still buoyed up by a combination of alcohol and nerves, and anticipating an uncomfortable journey, she leant forward and switched on the radio. Classical, of course. Pressing random buttons, she searched for Capital Radio, until Finn got in to the driver’s seat and switched it off with a frown.

‘Stop fiddling and do up your seatbelt.’

‘Yes, sir!’ muttered Kate.

Finn lay his arm along the back of her seat and swivelled so that that he could see to reverse the car along the narrow street to the turning place at the bottom. Kate was acutely aware of how close his hand was to her hair and she made a big deal of rummaging in her bag at her feet in case he thought that she was leaning invitingly towards him.

It was a relief when they reached the turning place and Finn took his arm away to put the car into gear. At least she could sit back.

Only it wasn’t that much easier then. Finn was a fierce, formidable presence, overwhelming in the dark confines of the car while the rain and the sleet splattered against the windscreen and made the space shrink even further. The light from the dashboard lit his face with a green glow, glancing along his cheekbones and highlighting the severe mouth.

He was concentrating on driving, and Kate watched him under her lashes, daunted more than she wanted to admit by his air of contained competence. It was evident in the calm, decisive way he drove, and when her eyes followed his left hand from the steering wheel to the gear stick, something stirred inside her and she looked quickly away.

Her wine-induced high had shrivelled, leaving her tongue-tied and agonisingly aware of him. It was ridiculous, Kate scolded herself. He was still Finn. He was a disagreeable, if thankfully temporary, boss and an ungracious guest. She didn’t like him at all, so why was she suddenly noticing the line of his mouth and the set of his jaw and the strength of his hands?

‘Where am I going?’

His brusque question broke the silence and startled her. ‘What?’

‘Gib asked me to take you home. Presumably he knows where that is, but I’m not a mind-reader.’

‘Oh…yes.’ Kate huddled in her seat, too appalled by this new awareness of him to rise to his sarcasm the way she would normally have done.

She directed him through the dark streets while the windscreen wipers thwacked rhythmically at the sleety rain and the silence in the car deepened until Kate could bear it no longer.

‘Why didn’t you tell Gib and Phoebe that you recognised me?’

Finn glanced at her. ‘Probably for the same reason that you didn’t,’ he said curtly. ‘I thought it would make the situation even more awkward than it already was.’

His tone was so uninviting, that Kate subsided back into silence. Anyone else giving her a lift home would have made some attempt at conversation, even if only to talk about the evening or the food or even, if things were desperate, the weather, but Finn was evidently in no mood for idle chit-chat. His face was set in grim lines and when he glanced in the rear-view mirror, Kate could see that he was frowning.

‘It’s just along here.’ She pointed out her street in relief. ‘There’s never anywhere to stop, so if you could drop me here, that would be fine, thanks.’

Finn ignored her, turning down the street she had indicated. ‘How far down are you?’

‘About halfway,’ admitted Kate, surrendering to force majeure. She pointed. ‘Just past that streetlight.’

As usual, the street was lined with cars bumper to bumper, so Finn had no choice but to stop in the middle of the road. Kate fumbled for the doorhandle as he put on the handbrake.

‘Thank you for the lift,’ she muttered. ‘I hope I haven’t brought you too much out of your way.’

A gust of sleet hit her full in the face as she opened the door, and instinctively she recoiled. ‘Yuck, what a horrible night!’

‘Wait there.’ Cursing under his breath, Finn reached behind him for an umbrella and got out of the car. He’d managed to get the umbrella up by the time he made it round to the passenger door. ‘I’ll see you to your door.’

‘Honestly, I’ll be fine. You don’t need to—’

‘Just hurry up and get out!’ said Finn through his teeth. It was hard to tell whether they were gritted with temper or with cold. ‘The sooner you do, the sooner I can get home!’

Reluctantly Kate scrambled out of the car and into the shelter of the umbrella. The wind was bitter and the rain ran down her neck, but she was still able to notice how intimate it felt to be standing so close to Finn. He was tall and solid and she had a bizarre impulse to put her arms round him and lean into him, to feel how hard and strong he was.

‘Right, let’s move it before we both freeze to death out here!’ said Finn, fortunately unable to read her mind. Or possibly telepathic and quick to take avoiding action. ‘Which house is it?’

He set off towards the pavement with Kate teetering on her heels in an effort to keep up with his long stride. ‘Why on earth don’t you wear something more sensible on your feet?’ he demanded, holding the umbrella impatiently above her.

‘If I’d known I’d be going on a polar expedition, I might have done!’ said Kate, her teeth chattering so loudly that she could hardly speak, but obscurely grateful to the vile weather for disguising the shakiness that might otherwise be obvious in her legs and her voice. She couldn’t believe what she had been tempted to do just then!

Finn would have had a fit if she had thrown herself at him like that. Or might he, just possibly, have pulled her towards him and kissed her under the umbrella? What would that have been like? Kate swallowed, torn between relief and disappointment that she would never know.

Still blissfully unaware of her wayward thoughts, Finn protected her with the umbrella while she fumbled for her key. Her hands were shaking in time with her teeth by that stage, and she was shivering so much that she couldn’t get the key in the lock.

Unable to bear it any longer, Finn put out his hand for the key, but his fingers brushing hers were enough to make Kate jerk back in alarm, dropping it into a puddle.

Mortified, she crouched down to retrieve it. Finn was holding out his hand with barely restrained impatience and meekly she dropped the wet and dirty key into his outstretched palm.

Without a word, Finn unlocked the door and pushed it open for her. ‘Thank you,’ said Kate awkwardly. ‘And thanks again for the lift.’

That was Finn’s cue to say that it had been a pleasure, an opening he pointedly missed.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said gruffly instead.

Fine, if that’s the way he wanted to be, she wouldn’t invite him in! Kate hugged her coat around her. ‘Are you sure you still want me to come into work?’

‘That’s generally the idea behind paying you,’ said Finn with one of his sardonic looks.

‘But I thought I was a disaster?’

‘You’re not exactly a resounding success as a secretary,’ he agreed, ‘but you’re the best I’ve got at the moment. We’ve got a big contract coming up, as you would know if you’d been paying attention, and I can’t afford to spend the time explaining everything to yet another secretary. I’m better off sticking with you.’

‘Well, thanks for that warm vote of confidence!’

‘You didn’t make many bones about how much you dislike working for me,’ Finn pointed out, ‘so I don’t see why I should dance around saving your feelings! The fact is that you can’t afford to lose this job just yet, and I can’t afford the time to replace you.’

‘You’re saying we’re stuck with each other?’ said Kate, lifting her chin.

‘Precisely, so we might as well make the best of it.’ He looked down into her face from under his umbrella. ‘I suggest you drink a litre of water before you go to bed,’ he said dispassionately as he turned to go. ‘We’ve got a lot to do tomorrow, so please don’t be late!’

Groping blearily for the alarm clock, Kate forced open one eye to squint at the time, only to jerk upright with what should have been a cry but which came out more as a groan. The sudden movement was like a cleaver slicing through her aching head and she put up a shaky hand to check that it was still intact.

Unfortunately, yes. Right then death seemed preferable to the pounding in her head and the horrible taste in her mouth.

Not to mention what Finn would say if she was late again.

Kate grimaced as she looked at the clock. If she skipped the shower and was lucky with the trains, she might just make it…

Somehow she got herself out of bed and along to the tube station, but regretted it deeply when she had to stand squashed in with thousands of other commuters, all wet and steaming from the rain above ground. Kate clung to the rail with one hand, swaying nauseously as the train lurched and rattled its way along the tunnels, and tried to ignore the queasy feeling in her stomach.

To make matters worse, her memory of the night before was coming back in fragments of intense clarity separated by the blurry recollection of having generally made a complete fool of herself.

The things she did remember were bad enough. The appalled look on Finn’s face when the terrible truth dawned that his date for the evening was none other than his much-despised temporary secretary. The windscreen wipers thwacking in time to the beat of her heart as she fixated inexplicably on his mouth and his hands. Huddling under the umbrella, wondering what it would be like to touch him.

She must have been completely blotto.

God, what if she’d made a pass at Finn? Kate thought in panic. Surely she would remember that?

If she had, she would have been firmly repulsed. That was one thing she did remember. Her much loved top and favourite shoes had gone down like a lead balloon with Finn. Kate had always been told that she looked really hot in that top, but he had just looked down his nose and averted his eyes from her cleavage. If any pass had been made, it certainly wouldn’t have come from him!

She got to the office with less than a minute to spare. Finn was already at his desk, of course. He looked up over his glasses as Kate held on to the doorway for support.

‘You look terrible,’ he said.

‘I feel worse,’ she croaked. ‘I’ve got the most monumental hangover.’

Finn grunted. ‘I hope you’re not expecting any sympathy from me!’

‘No, I don’t think I could cope with any miracles today,’ said Kate tartly before remembering a little too late that her job was very much on the line. Finn was obviously thinking much the same thing because his eyes narrowed slightly behind his reading glasses.

‘You’d better be in a fit state to work,’ he warned her. ‘We’ve got a lot to do today.’

‘I’ll just have some coffee and then I’ll be fine,’ Kate promised, holding her head.

‘You can have five minutes,’ said Finn and picked up the report he had been reading once more, effectively dismissing her.

Kate groped her way along to the coffee machine and ordered a double espresso, trying not to wince at the sound of ringing telephones and clattering keyboards. There was a tiny manic blacksmith at work inside her skull, banging and hammering on her nerve endings.

Perhaps Alison would have some paracetamol, she thought, sinking gratefully down at her desk. That might help.

Any normal girl would keep hangover cures handy in her top right-hand drawer, but not Alison. Having rummaged through the desk, Kate was forced to accept that Alison didn’t have hangovers. Alison probably didn’t even know what a hangover was. She probably never got nervous or drank too much or showed off in front of Finn.

The coffee was only making her feel worse. Groaning, Kate collapsed onto the desk and buried her head in her arms. That was it. She was giving up. She was just going to have to die here in Finn’s office. He would just have to decide what to do with her body although, knowing him, he’d get the next temp to deal with it. Just dispose of that corpse, he would say, and then come in and take notes at the speed of light.

‘You didn’t drink any water before you went to bed, did you?’ Finn’s voice spoke above Kate’s prostrate form.

‘No,’ she mumbled, mainly because it was easier than shaking her head.

‘You’re dehydrated.’ Somewhere to the right of her ear, she could hear the sound of a mug being set on the desk. ‘Here. I’ve brought you some sweet tea, and a couple of aspirin.’

The promise of aspirin was enough to make Kate lift her head very cautiously. ‘Thanks,’ she muttered.

She took the pills and screwed up her face at the taste of the tea, but her mouth was so dry that she sipped it anyway. After a few minutes, she even began to feel as if she might live after all.

Finn was leaning against the edge of her desk, frowning down at the file in his hands. He always seemed to be frowning, Kate thought muzzily. Was he like this with everyone, or was it just her? The thought that it might be her was oddly depressing. Granted, turning up for work late or massively hungover probably wasn’t the best way to go about getting him to smile, but still, you’d have thought there’d have been something about her he could like.

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