Buttoned-Up Secretary, British Boss Read online

  Sabrina smiled wanly. ‘This is not your fault, Alexander,’ she said. ‘And you’re not a slave driver. If I’d thought you were, I would probably have given you a sign of some sort.’

  In a minute or two, Sabrina attempted to sit up again, then began to have the horrible suspicion that there was more to her situation than she’d thought. The glands in her neck were beginning to feel stiff and painful, and there was a strange, unfamiliar taste in her mouth.

  ‘Oh dear,’ she said faintly. ‘I don’t feel so good after all, Alexander.’

  ‘No, and you don’t look it,’ he replied bluntly. He paused, gazing down at her, unfamiliar feelings of tenderness rippling through his body. He came to a sudden decision.

  ‘I’m not going to take you home after all,’ he said. ‘You’re going to stay here—at least for the weekend.’

  As Sabrina started to protest, he went on firmly, ‘Everyone’s talking about this horrible virus that’s going around like wildfire. And although I’m no medical genius it looks to me as if you might have it.’ He put his fingers gently either side of Sabrina’s neck ‘Does that feel tender?’ he asked.

  Sabrina sighed. ‘It does,’ she admitted reluctantly. ‘But honestly, Alexander, it’s better if I go home.’ She paused. ‘I’m quite used to looking after myself, and you don’t need me around.’

  Oh, but I think I do, Alexander thought.

  ‘Why go home to an empty house?’ he demanded. ‘Your sister won’t be there, so you won’t have her to worry about. Why turn down the chance for someone to look after you, for a change? Someone to make you hot drinks, maybe even bring you scrambled eggs in bed?’ he added.

  But he knew he wasn’t thinking only of her. He was thinking of himself. He wanted to look after Sabrina, wanted to take care of her. Why had he never felt like this about a woman ever before? What had stopped him having those feelings?

  In spite of not really wanting to fall in with his plan, Sabrina did suddenly feel drawn to the idea. He was probably right about her having picked something up. She looked at him, her eyes huge now in a face which looked pale and wan.

  ‘But if I have caught this virus, wouldn’t it be better for me to make myself scarce? Aren’t you afraid of catching it?’ she asked.

  He grinned properly now, sensing that he was going to get his own way.

  ‘Not a chance of that happening,’ he said cheerfully. ‘For some reason, I always manage to remain impervious to bugs of all kinds.’

  But, rather worryingly, not impervious to the winsome charms of my present secretary, he thought.

  Sabrina bit her lip. She obviously had nothing with her, no night clothes or toothbrush, and she hated being unprepared. Once again, Alexander read her thoughts.

  ‘Sorry I haven’t anything in the way of female attire to offer you,’ he said. ‘But you’re welcome to borrow my T-shirts—which will reach your knees, I should think, so they shouldn’t be too uncomfortable And there’s a new pack of toothbrushes in my bathroom cabinet. Anyway,’ he added, ‘there’s enough of everything for you to make do.’

  By now, the idea of not having to go back home was becoming more attractive by the second. Sabrina knew without any doubt that whatever she had was not going to go away easily. She sighed, smiling up at him briefly.

  ‘Well, if you’re sure I shan’t be, you know, interrupting your creative flow, Alexander, or be in the way…’

  ‘Let’s forget my creative flow for five minutes,’ he replied firmly. ‘Let’s think about you, just you, for a change.’

  The next twenty-four hours passed in a blur of semi-misery for Sabrina as she alternated between spells of uncomfortable sleep and fits of coughing that made her chest hurt. She felt very hot and very cold by turns, her subconscious mind an outrageous mix of noises and disruptive sounds. And all the time she was barely aware of Alexander silently coming and going into the room to place fresh water by her side, and to gaze down at her almost ghost-like appearance.

  He had decided not to move her from his bed, and had used one of the spare rooms for himself. But he’d been so concerned about Sabrina that he’d hardly slept at all, tiptoeing in and out to check up on her.

  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 hers
elf—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.’

  Chapter Nine

  THANKFULLY, 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 in
spection 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.’