Buttoned-Up Secretary, British Boss Read online

  ‘I’ve packed my laptop in my case—’ she began, and he interrupted her.

  ‘Why? This is supposed to be a holiday.’

  ‘But—but I thought it was partly about your next novel. That’s what you said, Alexander,’ Sabrina replied. ‘You said you were hoping to find fresh inspiration…’

  ‘Oh, did I? Well, maybe I will, maybe I won’t—with an emphasis on the latter,’ he said breezily. ‘I intend to be thoroughly lazy and drink a great deal of wonderful wine—and I hope you’re going to join me,’ he added, smiling slowly into her upturned face. ‘And we’ll take it in turns to rush out for fresh baguettes every morning, because at exactly nine-fifteen Claudette arrives in her little white van with fresh supplies for the locals—and she doesn’t hang around. Three sharp beeps on her horn, and you’ve got about two minutes to join the queue before she makes a fast getaway.’

  Picturing the scene, Sabrina couldn’t help smiling. ‘Are there really no shops—even food shops—then?’ she asked.

  ‘Nope. The nearest supermarket is five miles down the road, where we can restock everything now and then,’ he said. ‘But we’ll be OK for the first few days because two of my neighbours, Marcel and Nicole, will have made sure we won’t go hungry. They’re a great couple—you’ll like them. They look after my place for me when I’m away, and stock up the fridge to greet me when I come back.’

  ‘It sounds an ideal arrangement,’ Sabrina said. ‘You’re lucky that they’re around to do it for you.’

  ‘It is,’ he agreed. ‘And I am. And I bet they’ll insist we have dinner with them tonight—they know I’m bringing someone with me this time.’

  Sabrina looked away as he spoke. Who did he usually bring with him? she wondered. Was there a special female that no one knew about? She kept remembering that beach photograph; when, and where, had that been taken? Then she shrugged inwardly. From Alexander’s youthful appearance on the snap, it was clearly taken rather a long time ago.

  But Sabrina admitted that she was curious about her employer’s personal life. Although he’d stated that he intended to remain single—for ever, he’d said—there were bound to have been many other women. Someone with his masculine appeal could have the pick of the bunch. Whatever he’d said to her, it certainly didn’t mean that he never enjoyed the full company of a female when he felt like it. And where better to do that than in an isolated place in rural France? There wouldn’t be any photographers popping out from behind bushes to catch him unawares and provide gossip for the media. Was this his real purpose in asking her along? If so, she’d make sure she wasn’t another notch on his bedpost!

  As she dwelt on all this, Sabrina wondered whether she’d made the silliest mistake in her life by coming with him. His apparent reason for inviting her had been that it would not only be a chance for a rest, but that they might do some work in relative peace. But now, apparently, he’d changed his mind about doing any writing.

  The flight was smooth and uneventful, and as they came into land Sabrina stared down in fascination at the medieval city of Carcassonne. Alexander touched her arm. ‘We’ll spend a day there before we go back home,’ he said. ‘It’s something not to be missed.’

  At the airport, Alexander had made arrangements to hire a car, and as they fastened their seat belts he said, ‘It takes about forty-five minutes to get to the Barn, so sit back and enjoy the scenery.’

  The roads were blissfully uncluttered, and from the effortless way Alexander negotiated the twists and turns it was obvious that he must have made this trip scores of times.

  ‘Where is everybody?’ Sabrina asked, staring out of the window, and Alexander chuckled.

  ‘That’s just the point—there isn’t anybody,’ he said. ‘That’s why I come here.’ He glanced across at her briefly. ‘Though that’s not strictly true, of course. We’ll be going through some little villages in a minute, and nearer the Barn you’ll see the huge hypermarket on the horizon.’

  In almost exactly the forty-five minutes Alexander had said it would take them, Sabrina could see a cluster of buildings ahead, and soon they arrived at a small hamlet of about half a dozen dwellings. ‘This is it,’ Alexander said briefly.

  As he drove slowly up the poorly maintained road, Sabrina couldn’t help feeling rather surprised. It was hardly the most inspiring scene in the world, she thought, noting that the heavy door of every building they passed looked as if it hadn’t seen a coat of paint for years, and almost all the walls seemed to be flaking and unkempt. Hardly Alexander McDonald territory, she thought.

  He pulled in and switched off the engine. ‘Welcome,’ he said.

  Inside, what a different world, a magnificent conversion from what had once been a farming necessity! It was spacious and airy, with polished hardwood in evidence everywhere. As Alexander showed Sabrina around each room it was obvious to Sabrina that, for him, this was home from home.

  There was a huge dining area with a refectory table large enough for at least ten people, and at the end was a fully fitted kitchen. On the same floor were two en suite bedrooms and a wet room, and tucked in one corner was a sizeable, partly obscured area for a television and a sophisticated sound-system.

  Alexander led Sabrina up the beautifully crafted oak staircase to two more en suite bedrooms. At the end of the landing a pair of full-length windows opened out on to a balcony, from which the patio and swimming pool beneath could be seen, and ahead in the near distance was an uninterrupted view of rows and rows of vine trees and olive groves.

  Almost lost for words, Sabrina looked up at him. ‘Alexander,’ she said slowly. ‘What an absolutely lovely place.’ She thought, never judge a book by its cover! How could she ever have guessed what lay beyond that rather scruffy front door?

  ‘I had a feeling you might like it,’ he murmured.

  Then, they went down to the lower floor and made their way through the games room, complete with table tennis and snooker tables, and out on to the patio.

  ‘I usually swim most mornings,’ Alexander said casually. ‘And, if it’s hot, several other times of the day as well.’ He smiled down at her. ‘I told you it would still be warm here. Marcel told me on the phone that it’s been a good year for weather.’

  If she’d had any worries about coming here, those worries had suddenly disappeared! This was a magical place; who couldn’t be happy here just for a couple of weeks? I’m going to enjoy every minute of this totally unexpected holiday, she thought. And I have no fears where Alexander McDonald is concerned, either…I know exactly how to take care of him, if I have to!

  ‘What a lovely surprise that Alex has brought…a friend with him this time,’ Simone said, pouring another glass of wine for Sabrina and pushing it along the table towards her.

  Alexander had been right when he’d said there would be an invitation for dinner from the French couple, and Sabrina had to admit that Simone and Marcel LeFevre were everything he’d described.

  The pair were in their fifties, Sabrina guessed, Marcel a dark, swarthy, good-natured man, his wife a rather round-figured woman with light-coloured, frizzy hair and shrewd blue eyes.

  Their home was a pretty, ancient farmhouse with swimming pool—obviously not as grand as Alexander’s. But their table groaned beneath delicious, unusual cheeses, a massive langoustine soufflé and salad, and home-made pastries straight from the oven to eat with crème fraîche and sweet almonds. And there was wine, and more wine, and rich, sensuously aromatic coffee. Would she need another thing to eat ever again? Sabrina asked herself.

  It was getting late, and the two men had gone out onto the patio to chat, Marcel puffing happily on a cheroot. Simone leaned forward conspiratorially, her perfect English prettily laced with her own accent.

  ‘Alex told Marcel on the telephone that he was bringing someone with him this time, but we never thought it would be a beautiful woman,’ she said. She paused, unashamedly looking Sabrina up and down. ‘I feel so glad, because as soon as I saw him today he looked diffe
rent. Not so…sad, as he usually does.’

  ‘Sad?’ Sabrina said curiously.

  ‘Oh, mais oui! Yes, sad, chérie,’ Simone said emphatically. ‘We have talked about it many times, Marcel and I, and always thought it was to do with the writing—his head always in another world, he has no time to think much about the one he’s living in.’

  Sabrina thought about that for a moment.

  ‘His home—the Barn—is very big, just for him, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Doesn’t he ever bring anyone here with him?’

  ‘Never. Always alone,’ Simone said. ‘He has lent it to one or two friends in the past—and his brother came here once with a woman—but Alex seems to like being here alone. Which doesn’t seem natural for a man, not natural for someone like Alex.’ She smiled quickly. ‘Have you known him a long time?’ she ventured curiously.

  Sabrina smiled back, not minding the question because it was obvious that the woman had a real liking for Alexander, cared about him.

  ‘About six weeks,’ she replied. ‘I’m his secretary.’

  ‘Ah, ça va? His secretary…’ Simone said, nodding her head slowly.

  ‘And the only reason I’ve been invited,’ Sabrina went on, ‘is because we’ve had a very busy time of late. Alexander has only just completed the latest novel and things have been a bit tense recently. So he thought we both needed a break—and, as it happened, my own circumstances allowed me to accept his suggestion.’

  A slight frown crossed the knowing features. ‘You—you have someone…?’

  Sabrina smiled. ‘No—at the moment, I’m quite free,’ she replied, wilfully misunderstanding Simone’s enquiry. ‘For a little while, I’m fun and fancy free!’

  Simone’s expression cleared. ‘I am so happy to hear that,’ she said. She stood up to fetch more coffee from the stove, and turned to look at Sabrina. ‘I hope you will have a really good time here,’ she said. ‘You and Alex…together. He deserves someone to teach him one or two things.’

  ‘I’m not sure what you mean by that,’ Sabrina said, smiling.

  ‘To teach him how to be a living person—a man,’ Simone said firmly. ‘And to open his heart.’

  Only a French person could have said something like that, Sabrina thought, shrugging inwardly. She wondered how much of Alexander’s past Simone and Marcel knew—about his parents, of the rather strange relationship Lydia had with her sons.

  ‘Oh, I don’t think we need worry about Alexander,’ Sabrina said lightly. ‘I’m sure there have been many women in his life.’

  ‘Ah oui, of course!’ Simone agreed firmly. ‘Affaires…naturally! But, love?’ She nibbled thoughtfully on another almond. ‘I am talking about the sort of love that only happens in sound relationships: family ties—commitment.’

  ‘I’ve the feeling that Alexander would rather have a fit than a family!’ Sabrina said, smiling at the thought. ‘I’m sure he could never tolerate children getting under his feet. In that respect, he’s the typical loner, I’m afraid,’ she added.

  Simone sipped at her wine. ‘You’re wrong, Sabrina,’ she said. She put her glass down and leant forward, her elbows on the table. ‘Our first grandchild was born a couple of years ago, and she was about six months old when Alex saw her. My daughter brought her over for a visit, and he was here. And he was—how shall I say?—enchanté! He could not take his eyes off her! And he has showered her with gifts ever since. In fact, he is godfather to our precious baby.’

  Sabrina could hardly believe this. Alexander and…babies?

  ‘I hope he didn’t drop her at the font,’ she said only half-jokingly, and Simone threw her hands in the air.

  ‘Drop her? He handled that child as if he’d had six of his own! It was difficult for anyone else to get a look in, because he wanted her all to himself!’

  If Sabrina had just been told that Alexander McDonald had beaten Edmund Hillary to the top of Everest, she couldn’t be more surprised at what Simone had just told her. But before any more discussion could go on, the two men came in from the patio.

  ‘I’m suddenly beginning to feel rather tired,’ Alexander said, smiling down at Simone. ‘Thanks largely to that magnificent meal, Simone. Thank you so much; as usual, we shall be returning the compliment before we go back home.’

  Simone stood up and put her hands on his shoulders. ‘You know how much we love your visits, Alex,’ she said fondly. ‘You don’t come nearly often enough. And it has been a great pleasure to have a lady to talk to this time.’

  ‘Well, if you want to keep good staff you’ve got to treat them well,’ Alexander said, smiling briefly at Sabrina. ‘Sabrina and I have been keeping our heads down for too long lately.’

  After making their goodnights, Alexander led Sabrina the short distance between the two properties. Sabrina admitted that she, too, was looking forward to some sleep. Earlier, she’d been more than relieved to be shown her own room on the first floor; Alexander apparently always slept on the one above. She’d been prepared for the possibility that he might have expected her to share.

  As they let themselves into the Barn, Sabrina glanced up at him.

  ‘Why do you go in for such massive properties, Alexander?’ she asked casually. ‘This is huge. And so is number thirteen, of course.’

  He paused outside her bedroom, looking down at her thoughtfully for a second. ‘Because I like space, that’s all,’ he said. He waited a moment before murmuring, ‘Goodnight, Sabrina. Sleep well.’

  Then he turned and went upstairs, and Sabrina heard his tread on the wooden stairway. Slowly, she went into her room and closed the door.

  Snuggling down under the luxurious duvet, she tried to imagine which room Alexander was sleeping in. Was it directly above her own, or the one further along? She hadn’t quite got a handle on the geography of the place yet.

  It had been a rather wonderful day, she thought sleepily. There was not a single thing she could complain about, anyway. The journey had been pleasant, and Alexander had acted the perfect gentleman the whole time, making her feel comfortable, unthreatened, and for some reason sublimely happy. She smiled faintly in the darkness, remembering everything Simone had told her. Alexander McDonald cuddling a baby in his arms! What a preposterous thought!

  The other slightly less preposterous thought was that, if he’d wanted to seduce her, it wouldn’t have taken him too much effort, she admitted!

  In his own room, Alexander glanced at himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth vigorously. Despite Sabrina’s initial reluctance to come with him, he knew that she was happy to be here…happy to be here with him. And he also knew that he felt happier than he had for a very long time. She was the first person he’d ever invited to have a break here with him; he’d never wanted to share that solitude he so valued. But, for once, he wanted to share—and, if he’d been presented with a vast selection of other human beings to consider, Sabrina would have been his first, his obvious choice.

  Chapter Eleven

  THE first thing that Sabrina was aware of the next morning was the sound of three short blasts from a horn outside in the road. Of course: the van bringing fresh bread for breakfast. Well, she’d never make it in time to buy any! She hoped Alexander didn’t expect her to take first turn, anyway—even though she must remember that she was still his secretary, his Jill of all trades.

  But the next moment, after listening to several excitable voices raised in spirited greetings outside, she heard the heavy door slam and Alexander’s swift tread coming towards her room.

  Not bothering to glance at herself in the mirror, Sabrina shrugged on her dressing gown, opened the door—and came face to face with Alexander, who was clutching two large French sticks and a paper bag of something or other.

  ‘Your turn tomorrow,’ he said, smiling down at her in one appraising glance. The flimsy dressing-gown she had on revealed the tantalizing shape beneath, and her hair—tousled untidily and loose around her face, which was still pale from sleep—caused his senses to spin i
n mad circles for a second. He swallowed.

  ‘Did you sleep well?’ he remarked casually.

  ‘Like the proverbial top,’ Sabrina replied. She hesitated. ‘You’ve clearly been up some time?’

  He was bare-footed, his muscular legs brown and glistening, and he was wearing white shorts and a navy T-shirt. His hair was wet and plastered to the sides of his face which was unshaven, a strong line of dark hair shadowing his chin.

  ‘I’ve been in the pool for half an hour.’ He paused. ‘But I wasn’t going to wake you; we had a long day yesterday.’ He turned to go. ‘I was just coming to tell you it’s nine-thirty already, so let’s have breakfast.’ He turned to go. ‘And don’t bother to get dressed now,’ he added over his shoulder. ‘You can take your time later. All this’ll be ready in five minutes.’

  Doing as she was told, Sabrina went back into her bedroom to sponge her face and hands and brush her hair quickly, before going through to join Alexander in the kitchen. The glorious smell of percolating coffee drove her tastebuds crazy.

  He had cut the baguettes into generous slices, and laid out butter, jam and honey. Sabrina realized that she was feeling really hungry by now. Especially when she saw the two still-warm pastries he’d bought as well.

  ‘After that wonderful supper last night, I didn’t think I’d ever want to eat again,’ she said, sitting down at the table and watching as Alexander poured the steaming coffee into two huge, wide cups. He passed her some milk and sugar and sat down opposite.

  ‘Ah well, that’s what French air does for you,’ he said. ‘Plus being totally relaxed and with no pressures.’

  He was right, Sabrina thought as she spread butter onto a slice of bread. She did feel relaxed, had never felt more relaxed in her whole life. She suddenly seemed to be inhabiting a whole new world where nothing really mattered, quietly amazed at how quickly she and her employer had somehow adapted their relationship. She had that strange feeling once again that they’d known each other for ages. She shrugged inwardly. Perhaps that had something to do with the nearly three days spent ill in his bed.