Buttoned-Up Secretary, British Boss (10 page)

At three o’clock on Sunday morning, he went in to find her sitting up, mumbling incoherently, her face flushed and her hair in damp tangles around her shoulders. Suddenly Alexander was angry with himself, really angry, that he hadn’t called for his doctor to visit—though he could well imagine what Sabrina’s reaction would have been to that suggestion. But what if she had something much more serious than they thought? What if this was the dreaded meningitis, or something else equally as dangerous? He would never, ever forgive himself if the worst possible scenario should take place under his roof—and to someone like Sabrina…all because he’d neglected to get professional advice.

Without saying a word, he picked up the glass of water by the bed and gently encouraged her to take a few sips. Then he laid her back down gently and went into the adjoining bathroom to rinse out a wet cloth to place on her forehead. Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he thought
he
didn’t look too good, either. His face appeared unusually tired and careworn. But then, he reminded himself, this was the first time he’d ever had to look after someone who was sick; he had never experienced these surprisingly deep feelings of closeness, of compassion, this longing to wave a magic wand and make someone better.

At least he was thankful that he’d managed to persuade Sabrina to stay here. It was unthinkable that she should be in this state alone at home.

Going back in with the cold, damp flannel, he placed it gently on her forehead, holding it there for a few moments. He realized that she seemed to be calmer now, her breathing less rapid, and he began to relax. Perhaps he was panicking unnecessarily; from everything he’d heard about the present infection, that was apparently
decimating the population, Sabrina’s symptoms were classic. And, if it was true to type, by the morning she should be over the worst.

That was how it turned out, because he went back in to find Sabrina breathing peacefully—having actually managed to sleep himself for a couple of hours—the hurtful coughing no longer punishing her slight body.

Sensing she wasn’t alone, she opened her eyes and smiled up at him. Alexander was so relieved to see that she was definitely so much better, he could have rushed across and clasped her to him. It was the best possible feeling in the world, he thought, to know that someone you cared about was no longer in danger.

He sat carefully on the edge of the bed and took hold of her hand. ‘Hello, Sabrina,’ he murmured.

‘Oh, Alexander. Where have I been?’ she said. ‘What day is it?’

‘It’s Sunday—at eight a.m. And I think you’ve been on an unexpected journey to No-Man’s Land. But you’re better now, or you will be soon.’ He squeezed her hand more tightly and she sat up then, leaning her head on his shoulder for a second. The sight of Sabrina in his huge T-shirt—which had slipped off one side, exposing a smooth, tender curve of her breast—made Alexander’s heart almost burst with tenderness. What power did this woman possess to give him such feelings? he asked himself. Was she a witch?

Later, after he had brought her tea and a thin slice of toast and marmalade, Sabrina felt sufficiently recovered to have a leisurely shower and wash her hair, which had become an unruly mass of tangles as she’d tossed and turned. By now she was just beginning to appreciate the position she’d landed herself in—albeit through no fault
of her own. She had spent the weekend in her employer’s bed, had apparently been watched over by him for many hours, and had sat up to obediently eat the first solid food she’d had for a couple of days while he’d just sat there, watching until she’d finished every crumb.

How on earth had all that come about? she asked herself. How had he persuaded her to stay here overnight—over two nights? It felt both strange and amazing at the same time. Alexander McDonald had taken care of her in a very personal way, while she’d been completely unable to do that for herself—something she never could have imagined in a thousand years! She shook her head briefly.

Life was so full of surprises, she thought, some ghastly, some exciting and pleasurable. Despite the fact that she’d been feeling so utterly wretched for two days, this latest episode in her life could easily be placed in the latter category! For her boss to stand over her in his dressing gown—as she’d been aware of from time to time—looking unusually unkempt and unlike himself was something she’d never expected to see. But all she knew was that it had made her feel grateful that someone else had taken control.

It was mid-morning by the time she’d dried her hair and got dressed, and although she still felt as if she was walking slightly above the ground Sabrina knew that she was well on the way to recovery. She also knew that she must go home soon and recharge her batteries in her own surroundings. She could get used to being here, she thought, glancing around at Alexander’s luxurious bedroom. Unlike his study, everything was immaculate, from the expensive drapes at the window and the cream, fitted carpet on the floor, to the tasteful prints on the wall. And his bathroom was to die for, she admitted,
thinking of her own—and shuddering at the memory of him standing there the other day beside her. Chalk and cheese was about it, she thought.

Then she squared her shoulders. Such thoughts were not allowed. It was useless to wish for something you knew could never be yours. She and Melly had enough of everything they needed. And they had each other.

She went downstairs; the smell of coffee coming from the kitchen was starting to wake up her taste buds. Alexander turned and smiled at her.

‘Ah, that looks more like you, Sabrina,’ he said, looking down at her approvingly. How could he have dismissed her appearance as irrelevant on that first morning in September? he asked himself. Sabrina Gold could never be thought irrelevant—in any way at all.

She went over to stand next to him as he made the coffee. ‘Do you mind taking me home in a minute, Alexander?’ she asked, wishing she felt strong enough to get back under her own steam.

‘Why go back straight away?’ he asked casually, not looking at her. ‘I was thinking that after I’ve impressed you with my scrambled-egg dish we might have a run out in the country for an hour or so. It would do you good to have some fresh air—perhaps a stroll for ten minutes or so?’ Now he did look at her. ‘Unless there are urgent things for you to attend to, of course,’ he added.

Sabrina knew that there wasn’t anyone or anything urgent waiting for her at home, and in any case she still felt very fragile. What Alexander had suggested was suddenly very appealing.

‘Well, that does sound rather attractive…’ she began.

‘Good. Then that’s settled. The newspapers are in my
sitting room, next to the bedroom. Take your coffee up, and I’ll start constructing the eggs.’ He grinned down at her, thankful that Sabrina was obviously so much better—and pleased that she was ready to fall in with his plans for their day.

Sabrina did as she was told, finding that Alexander’s sitting room was much as she would have expected. Again, beautifully, expensively furnished—but not without the tell-tale signs of someone who found that being tidy was an irksome task. But it was cosy, lived-in and lovely, Sabrina thought as she settled herself back down in the enveloping cushions of one of the large, deep-green sofas.

For the next few minutes she tried to read the newspaper, but found that she couldn’t concentrate long enough to take anything in. She picked up her mug of coffee and sipped thoughtfully for a moment.

When was she going to pluck up the courage to tell Alexander that she was not going to France with him—after he’d just been so kind, so thoughtful? She could repeat what she’d already said—that Melly couldn’t be left on her own for long. She could hardly tell him the truth. She could hardly say,
sorry, Alexander, you’re becoming far too important to me. I am beginning to like you too much, to need you too much. And this is not the template for my life. You’re cutting across my plans. And I must somehow put a stop to it before it’s too late, because I believe that it won’t take much for me to be seduced by you. To be seduced by my employer. And that’s not good for business, is it? Not good for you, with your career to think of, and not good for me, who has vowed never to be emotionally involved with a man ever again.

She would tell him later, when he took her home,
Sabrina decided—get it over with before she changed her mind.

Soon, she heard his voice from below. ‘Breakfast is served, my lady!’

Smiling, she got up and went downstairs. As she reached the bottom, the front-door bell rang, and without hesitating she went to see who it was.

The smile on her lips died in an instant—Bruno was standing there. And, as their eyes met, his sly expression said it all.

‘Well, well, well…’ he drawled. ‘I didn’t think you were expected to work on
Sundays
, Sabrina.’ He moved forward to come in. ‘I told you he could be a demanding brute, didn’t I?’

Almost at once, Alexander was behind them, and he didn’t bother to couch his words as he stared at his brother with distaste.

‘Didn’t I make myself clear the other day, Bruno?’ he said flatly. ‘Didn’t you get the message that I do not welcome unexpected visitors—whoever they are?’

Bruno smiled slowly, looking from Sabrina to his brother and back again.

‘I can quite see why not,’ Bruno said suggestively. ‘And I’m sure it
is
a surprise, Alex, old boy,’ he said. ‘I’ve obviously come at a
very
inconvenient time.’

‘Yes, you have. We’re just about to eat our breakfast,’ Alexander said, unsmiling. ‘Even so, I would ask you to join us—but, sadly, I’ve used up all the eggs.’

‘Oh, don’t worry about me, Alex,’ Bruno replied, totally unperturbed. He paused. ‘Have you two been working all hours, then? You…you must have had quite a night.’

‘Bruno, you wouldn’t believe the night we’ve had,’ Alex said solemnly. ‘Which is why Sabrina and I need
some nourishment to upgrade our energy levels. So I’m sorry to rush you away, but please have the grace to inform me the next time you’re likely to call, won’t you?’

And, with the briefest of goodbyes, Bruno was gone.

‘Well, you know what
he
was thinking!’ Sabrina said, following Alexander into the kitchen.

He looked down at her, with the heart-stopping twinkle in his eyes that sent delightful shivers right down her spine to her toes.

‘What—that you spent the night in my bed?’ He paused. ‘Well, you did, didn’t you?’

‘Yes—but you know what I mean, Alexander. He’s sure to jump to all the wrong conclusions.’

Alexander raised one eyebrow. ‘Who cares?’ he said. ‘Now, come and eat your breakfast.’

T
HANKFULLY,
the virus which had invaded Sabrina’s body disappeared within two or three days, so Alexander’s novel could progress unhindered.

He had been more than usually preoccupied with bringing his latest masterpiece to a successful end, and as they continued to work almost silently together in the study Sabrina made a point of keeping her head down and not intruding on his thoughts. She had learned by now when to keep quiet, when to make herself invisible, when sometimes not even to distract him by making them coffee or tea. And once or twice, when she’d arrived in the mornings, she’d been aware that he’d almost certainly been up most of the night, scribbling, crossing out—and no doubt cursing. But there was always the latest manuscript waiting for her to sort and print out, and he was keeping the promise he’d made—that it would all be completed by the end of October.

Now, as Sabrina saw the plot unfolding before her eyes as she typed, she had to admit that the conclusion was completely unexpected, with a totally amazing, unbelievable twist that brought a smile of satisfaction to her lips. This, then, was why Alexander McDonald’s books never failed to impress—or to sell in shed loads.

She’d hardly seen him at all today, but now as she
handed over the final printout for his inspection she couldn’t resist telling him how she felt.

‘Alexander,’ she said quietly. ‘This is an amazing piece of work—and I loved the end. Just loved it! I’d had no idea how it was going to work out. How…how did you do it?’

He shrugged. ‘Thousands of hours of practice,’ he said. ‘But thanks for the compliment, Sabrina.’

He looked down at her as he spoke, remembering just how ill she’d been ten days ago and how little fuss she’d made about it. He’d wanted her to have time off to recover properly, but she’d had none of that—and he didn’t persuade her to change her mind. Because he needed her—wanted her—by his side. He could never have envisaged how indispensable this woman would become to him. How he looked forward to every day, just to see her, be close to her.

He had decided not to mention France again until after the novel was complete, but he was pretty certain she’d be coming with him despite her reservations about her sister. And it would do them both good to get away from here for a spell, breathe different air, he thought. Surely she’d see that?

He stood up and pushed back his chair. ‘This is great, Sabrina,’ he said, indicating the pile of papers in his hand. ‘I’m going to take it over to the editor right away, and when I come back—I shouldn’t be long—we might even open a bottle of champagne.’

Sabrina smiled up at him, pleased that he was so happy, so obviously content with all the hard work he’d put in over the last months. And, when he was happy, it made her happy too.

He turned to go. ‘Oh, by the way, make some enquiries
about flights to Carcassonne…say towards the end of next week? That would suit me, if it suits you.’

Sabrina paused before answering. ‘I don’t think I agreed to come with you, did I, Alexander?’ she said carefully. ‘Though it’s very kind of you to include me in your arrangements.’

‘It’s got nothing to do with me being kind,’ he said flatly. ‘It’s all to do with us both having a brief period of renewal. You’ve been putting in nearly as many hours as I have and you’re due for a break. Especially after that bug you picked up.’

Sabrina stood up, pushing a stray frond of hair from her forehead. ‘No. The thing is, Alexander, my sister texted me last night to say the group are due back on Sunday—a bit earlier than was expected. So I do need to be around for her for a while.’

‘That’s OK,’ Alexander said, not to be put off. ‘We can leave when we like—Wednesday or Thursday next week—and that’ll give you three or four days to settle your sister back home, won’t it? And it’s still lovely in the Languedoc area in early November.’

Sabrina looked at him squarely. ‘I really cannot say with any certainty that I can come,’ she said. ‘I’ve already told you, I need to be here for my sister’s return.’

‘Well, she certainly seems to have done all right without you in Spain,’ Alexander said bluntly.

‘So it would appear,’ Sabrina retorted. ‘But I would still like to see her.’

‘And that’s understandable,’ Alexander said, trying to sound reasonable, even though he couldn’t see why someone of twenty-six couldn’t be left in her own home for a couple of weeks without her big sister holding her hand. ‘And you
will
be there—for several days—to
make sure everything’s OK.’ He paused. ‘I’m sure your sister would like to think of
you
having some time away, too.’

Sabrina looked at him for a moment, biting her lip. This exchange between them wasn’t going too well at the moment, she thought—especially as she couldn’t give Alexander the other rather important reason why she didn’t want to go to France.

‘Well, all I can say, Alexander, is that my instinct is that you will be going to France without me. But,’ she said quickly, seeing the handsome face darken, ‘I will think it over. And, anyway, I’ll still be here when you get back. In the meantime, I’ll see that everything ticks over—check the post and the web. I might even do a bit more cleaning up in here!’ she said, trying to keep things light for a second. Alexander McDonald was used to having things all his own way, to not having his plans upset, and she could see from the expression on his face that he was annoyed with her.

‘Well, in my opinion, I think you should give your sister the opportunity to stand on her own feet for once,’ he said. ‘It seems to me you’ve been a kind of crutch to her for too long—always dependable, always there to sort out her life. From the little you’ve told me about her Spanish assignment, she’s been doing very well, thanks. Sometimes, Sabrina, love is shown in the letting go—so I’ve heard. Are you sure this isn’t more about you than her?’

That hurt! And Sabrina had been listening to what he was saying with growing anger and dismay. How dared Alexander McDonald interpret her life like this? What did
he
know? Well, he’d blown it now, she thought. She was damned well not going with him—anywhere! Who did he think he was? Let him stick to his fictional
characters and their problems, and leave her and Melly out of it.

She managed to keep her voice calm. ‘I’ll bear your opinion in mind,’ she said coolly. ‘And I’ll come to my decision about France in due course. And you’ll be the first to know,’ she added.

And with that she left the room, shutting the door with an unnecessary bang, and went downstairs to make herself a cup of tea.

Later, alone in the study, Sabrina felt somewhat at a loose end now that the novel was finished. She’d almost felt the tenseness lifting from Alexander as he’d come to the end of it—but he’d already stated that ideas for the next one were beginning to boil in his head; she knew it wouldn’t be long before it was a case of
déjà vu.

After busying herself with the filing, which had been woefully neglected of late, she took some invoices from his personal file and started to write out the necessary cheques for him to sign later. She was just finishing the last one when the phone rang. It was Alexander.

‘Sabrina,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid I’m going to be held up here for a bit because we’re waiting for the publisher to put in an appearance.’ He paused. ‘You go on home. And, look—have tomorrow off. That’ll give you a nice long weekend to prepare for your sister’s homecoming.’

Was he being sarky? Sabrina thought.

‘Oh, OK, then,’ she said coolly. ‘Thanks.’

‘No—thank
you
, Sabrina,’ he said. ‘The final draft has been approved, so it’s all smiles here. I think we can congratulate ourselves.’ He paused. ‘Sorry about the champagne, but I’ll keep it on ice. Oh good—they’ve just arrived, so I’ll have to ring off. So, see you Monday,
Sabrina—and I hope you find your sister in good spirits on her return.’

Sabrina put the phone down, biting her lip. His hurtful remarks earlier had cut into her deeply—but was he right? Had she assumed for far too long that Melly couldn’t survive without Sabrina being on hand all the time? And most awful thought of all—one which had only just taken root in her mind—had Melly in fact been a surrogate child, the child Sabrina had always longed for?

The possibility that Alexander might have a point made a considerable impact on Sabrina; wasn’t she supposed to be the psychologist? Wouldn’t she have worked out the true position for herself by now? But maybe perceptions were dimmed when you were too close to a situation, she agonized; objectivity could often take a back seat when it concerned you and yours.

With her thoughts running in all directions, Sabrina rested her head on her hand. Why not forget what Alexander McDonald said, just for a moment? she told herself. Melly would be back home in three days—and how was she really going to be? It was true that she’d given no indication that anything might be wrong, or that she was unwell, but Melly was a clever actress, and could be confusing sometimes. She would have realized that, even if she had been unhappy, there’d have been nothing Sabrina could do about it. Maybe her apparent enthusiasm had all been a sham because she didn’t want to worry her sister. The two girls had never been apart for this long before; how would Melly have survived this totally new dimension to her life?

With her head beginning to ache now, Sabrina stood up suddenly. It was all very well for Alexander McDonald to offer his illustrious opinion, but his own
family values were hardly creditable. They were feeble, in fact. He didn’t know what he was talking about.

In his editor’s office, as they uncorked a good bottle of wine, Alexander’s mind was only half on the discussions going on around him. He wished he hadn’t said all that to Sabrina, about her and her sister. The moment he’d uttered the words he could see the hurt spread across her features. And she was an intelligent woman; she didn’t need him butting in. Especially as he knew very well that the real reason he’d done it was because he’d been angry with her. Angry that, for the first time, he’d almost put his heart on the line, and Sabrina had said No. He’d been silly, childish and unfair, and he wished with all his heart that he could rewind the tape. The thought that he’d made her unhappy—even for a second—was unbearable.

One thing was certain, he thought grimly. She’d never agree to come abroad with him now. And much, much worse—what if she decided she didn’t want to work for him any more? What if she gave in her notice?

With yet another stab of genuine surprise at the intensity of his feelings towards her, Alexander realized that being without Sabrina Gold in his life was unthinkable.

Early on Saturday morning, the telephone by her bed rang and Sabrina sat up to answer it, rubbing her eyes. It was Melly.

‘Sabrina?
Hello!
Oh, Sabrina, I’ve had the most marvellous time, and there’s so much I have to tell you!’

Sabrina couldn’t help smiling. Her sister was on cloud nine, obviously. ‘Won’t it wait until tomorrow, then?’ she asked mildly.

Without a pause, Melly said, ‘No, not really. Well, let’s just say that
I
can’t let it wait until tomorrow!’

‘Go on, then,’ Sabrina said. ‘Fire away.’

And Melly did fire away, her words coming out in a rush. For the next twenty minutes, she gave Sabrina a blow-by-blow account of everything that had happened on the trip, hardly stopping for breath. She was deliriously excited; a transformation had taken place.

‘I’ve never had such a brilliant time in all my life, Sabrina. And the thing is, well, I—me and Sam—remember you met Sam?—we’re not coming back tomorrow with the others. Not for a couple more weeks.’

Sabrina sat up properly then, utterly bewildered at this sudden change of plan.

‘Perhaps you’d better explain,’ she said.

Melly took an audible, deep breath before going on.

‘It’s Sam and me—that is, well, Sam has just been wonderful the whole time, Sabrina. I think I’m in love with him.’ She paused. ‘In fact, I know I am. I’ve never felt like this about a man before; I’ve never met anyone like him before. And I know you’re going to say it’s a passing holiday-type thing that has no future, but I know differently. And so does Sam. We like the same things, we laugh about the same things…we’re just on the same wavelength! All the time! And, well, I hope you won’t think I’m being stupid, but…’

Sabrina got out of bed, clutching the phone more tightly in her hand. Spain had certainly had a very dramatic effect on her sister.

‘I’m not thinking anything,’ Sabrina said. ‘You’re twenty-six years old, Melly. It’s time you began to interpret your own emotions and not rely on me to do it
for you all the time.’ She paused. ‘What has Sam said to you, exactly?’

‘He said that he wants us to get to know each other better, spend more time together. And not only that—he can almost guarantee me permanent work with his team. And, the thing is, he needs to stay on here after the others have gone back home—there’s more work for him—and he wants me there as well. By his side,’ she added. She paused. ‘He really is lovely, Sabrina, and I know we love each other. Really I do. And you’re going to love him too, when you get to know him.’

For a few moments, Sabrina felt almost bowled over by all this. Melly had had one or two minor relationships in her life before, but had never expressed her feelings in such extravagant terms.

‘You don’t think I’m being silly, do you, Sabrina?’ Melly repeated earnestly. ‘And—do you believe in love at first sight? Sam does, so he told me. And I think I do, because he’s on my mind all the time. I just want to be with him.’

Thinking over what her sister had just said made Sabrina feel envious…just for a second. ‘No, I don’t think you’re being silly,’ she said slowly. ‘And I…do believe in love at first sight. But I don’t think it happens every day—and when it does it should always be treated with a certain degree of caution.’

‘That’s exactly what Sam said! We won’t rush things; we’ll value each day as it comes. And I’ve been managing everything fine so far, making the clothes I brought with me last—well, there are laundry facilities here, of course. And I’ve also bought a couple of T-shirts. And because I’ve been paid my wages I don’t need to ask you for any more money—which I’m sure you’re glad about!’ she added.