Кэтти Уильямс – Taken by the Boss: His Very Personal Assistant / In the Banker's Bed / The Takeover Bid (страница 16)
‘And you’re so highly qualified too!’ She instantly felt the colour warm her cheeks at her unthinking outspokenness. ‘What I meant to say was—’
‘I know what you meant to say, Kit,’ he assured her. ‘As for Desmond, I felt quite sorry for him, actually.’
‘Who did you feel sorry for, darling?’ Andrea Revel cut smoothly in on their conversation, moving to stand next to Marcus as she linked her arm loosely with his to look up at him.
Instantly making five-feet-ten-inches-tall Kit feel like a giraffe—and with about as much grace of movement!
The other woman looked gorgeous, of course, the skimpy green bikini she wore moulding to the perfection of her voluptuous curves, the tiny pieces of material leaving little to the imagination.
Not that Marcus needed imagination where this woman’s curves were concerned, Kit reminded herself crossly.
Or that it was any of her business, she rebuked herself.
‘Surely not Mike Reynolds?’ Andrea persisted when she received no answer, green eyes glittering maliciously as she looked across at Kit.
‘No, not Reynolds,’ Marcus rasped, obviously having no intention of breaking Desmond’s confidence by enlightening Andrea as to exactly whom he had been talking about.
Andrea arched blonde brows. ‘I believe you had a little trouble with the man last night, Kit…?’
Did everyone here know what had happened in her bedroom last night? Although she didn’t need to look far to know who had been Andrea Revel’s informant!
She gave Marcus a glare before answering Andrea. ‘Nothing that couldn’t be sorted out,’ she said tightly.
‘Lucky for you that Marcus came back when he did,’ Andrea drawled pointedly.
‘Very,’ Kit acknowledged tautly, knowing from the taunting glint in the other woman’s catlike eyes that she was enjoying her discomfort thoroughly. ‘If you’ll both excuse me, I would like to go inside and dress?’ she said stiltedly. ‘You said we’re leaving shortly, Marcus?’
‘In about an hour,’ he confirmed.
It couldn’t be soon enough for her, Kit knew as she turned away from the sight of Andrea Revel leaning her curves into Marcus’s body as the two of them whispered together.
Her heart ached as she acknowledged that Marcus wasn’t exactly pushing Andrea away. Oh, she believed him when he said his relationship with Andrea was over before the two of them had come away together for the weekend, but that didn’t mean that it couldn’t be rekindled, did it? She didn’t doubt that if Andrea Revel had any say in it then it certainly would be!
Just as she didn’t doubt her own love for Marcus. Or that that love was of the everlasting variety.
What an idiot she was.
She had spent the last six months hiding her own attractiveness from Marcus, only to fall in love with him and wish that he would feel the same way about her.
What a futile hope…!
CHAPTER TEN
‘YOU’RE very quiet?’
‘I was under the impression you preferred it that way when you’re driving.’ Kit didn’t even glance in Marcus’s direction as he sat behind the wheel of his Jaguar, remaining relaxed back in her seat, her sunglasses once again perched protectively on the bridge of her nose.
‘
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, you must have cancelled all your original plans in order to come away with me this weekend, and now we’re returning early. And I won’t expect you to come in to the office until Tuesday—after all, you’ve given up most of your Saturday.’
‘Yes?’ she acknowledged guardedly.
‘I just wondered what you were going to do with all this sudden free time?’
She gave a puzzled smile. ‘Whatever I usually do with my weekend, I suppose.’
‘Which is?’ he persisted.
‘Marcus—er—Mr Maitland,’ she corrected hastily.
‘Marcus will do,’ he told her dryly. ‘After all, we’re still out of the office,’ he qualified.
‘Okay,’ she agreed slowly. ‘But where is all this questioning leading?’
‘It isn’t leading anywhere.’ He grimaced. ‘At least—I wondered if perhaps you would like to have dinner with me this evening?’
Kit became very still, slowly turning her head to look at him, glad that the surprise that must be in her eyes was hidden by her sunglasses. Was Marcus inviting her out on a date? But he couldn’t be. Could he…?
‘Why?’ she finally said bluntly.
‘Well, it’s logical that you have to eat, and I have to eat, so I thought perhaps we might eat together,’ he supplied.
Kit opened her mouth to answer him in the negative, and then closed it again. Logic, as far as she was concerned, had absolutely no place in any suggestion that the two of them have dinner together this evening!
But even so, she was tempted. What would it be like to actually go out for the evening with Marcus? To take her time getting ready for the evening, to be collected by Marcus and swept off to an exclusive restaurant for a meal, possibly even a club later.
She had no doubts that he would prove an interesting and charming companion. Or that she would absolutely love to spend the evening with him. What didn’t make any sense was why he was asking her in the first place!
Unless it was just as he had said: he had to eat, she had to eat—and why not eat together?
‘If it takes you this long to decide, maybe you should just forget I asked!’
‘Maybe we should,’ Kit agreed stiffly. ‘I was thinking of going to see my parents,’ she added lightly as she realised how rude she must have sounded.
‘Really?’ He gave her an interested look. ‘Do they live in London?’
‘No. Cornwall,’ she replied awkwardly as she realised she was being rude again. ‘I thought I would go down by train later this afternoon.’
‘That’s quite a way.’ Marcus nodded. ‘I could drive you there, if you would like?’
‘Why on earth would you want to—? No,’ she amended hastily, not even wanting to give him that particular opening. He was far too curious about her private life already, without trying to wheedle his way into meeting her parents; she could hardly accept such an offer from him without inviting him to stay the weekend too. Something she had absolutely no intention of doing! ‘It’s much quicker by train,’ she dismissed, deliberately turning away to look out of the side window.
‘So, no dinner this evening? Either in London or Cornwall,’ he persisted.
‘I’m afraid not,’ she answered with a breeziness she didn’t feel.
‘What do your parents do in Cornwall?’
She gave him a sharp look. ‘Do…?’
‘As in work.’
‘Oh.’ She nodded. ‘My mother looks after the house—cottage, really,’ she amended. ‘And my father paints.’ She wished she had never mentioned her parents. And she wouldn’t have done if it hadn’t seemed like the ideal way of getting out of his dinner invitation without being rude.
‘As in walls or canvases?’
‘Marcus, I really don’t think this is a line of questioning we should be pursuing.’ She straightened uncomfortably in her seat.
‘Line of questioning? Pursuing?’ Marcus was incredulous. ‘You sound like a lawyer defending her client. I was only showing an interest, Kit.’
‘I know you were.’ She sighed, her cheeks blushing warmly. ‘I just—canvases. My father paints canvases,’ she explained reluctantly.
‘Really?’ Marcus raised dark brows. ‘Do I know him? Is he famous?’
‘Would you expect him to be living in a cottage in Cornwall if he was!’ Kit responded, knowing that she wasn’t being strictly honest. There was plenty of money now for her parents to move to a larger, more comfortable home; they just preferred to stay at the cottage where they had lived since they had first married. ‘I believe my father is what is usually known as a starving artist.’
‘But not in a garret?’ Marcus returned lightly.
‘No.’ She laughed, relaxing slightly. ‘But the cottage is certainly—rustic.’ She remembered that, until a few years ago, the cottage hadn’t even had running water, her mother having to get water from a well in the garden until they had had the main water supply connected.
‘Sounds wonderful.’ Marcus smiled.
‘It sounds it,’ Kit conceded. ‘And actually it is. If you don’t mind roughing it a bit.’ She had enjoyed a completely carefree childhood amongst the rugged hills of Cornwall, roaming for miles; it was what had given her her love of walking.
‘I’m ashamed to say I’ve never tried,’ Marcus admitted.