A Passionate Affair: The Passionate Husband / The Italian's Passion / A Latin Passion

‘And?’

‘Nothing. She was very sweet and very upset, but that’s all. The truth is the truth when all’s said and done.’

‘Pants.’

‘Quite.’

Marsha seated herself at her desk and pulled a wad of papers in front of her. There was nothing more to be said.

When Nicki brought back half the canteen’s stock of food at lunchtime Marsha ate a rather pitiable-looking ham sandwich and apple at her desk, but she had to force the food down. Jeff had popped his head out just after she had got into the office, declaring himself immensely pleased to see her, after which he had deposited a slim file in front of her, ordering her to stop all other work immediately. Marsha was not fooled by the width of the file. Thinking up ideas for new and interesting programmes was testing enough, but often necessitated a minimum of paperwork. Translating the idea into a programme within a budget, often with the impending broadcasting date just ahead, was the really hard work. After glancing through the paperwork she knew she would be working all over the weekend.

She had just returned to her desk, after a visit to the studio where the programme would be shot, and was immersed in a wad of possible facts and figures when Nicki leapt in front of her. ‘Could you sign this please?’ she said loudly, adding in a low hiss, ‘Penelope and him are in the corridor outside.’

Marsha’s stomach curled, but she had the presence of mind to keep her head down as she reached for the blank piece of paper Nicki had thrust on her desk.

Every nerve-end prickling, she waited for the door to open. She wasn’t disappointed. Penelope sailed in first, in a cloud of cloying perfume, her tone pre-emptive as she said, ‘He’s in, I take it?’ and made for Jeff’s door.

‘Just a moment, Miss Pelham.’ Marsha was on her feet and in front of Jeff’s door quicker than a dose of salts. She ignored the dark figure behind the other woman as she said, ‘If you would like to take a seat, I’ll just check Mr North is free.’

Penelope halted, swirling on her high heels as she said to Taylor, ‘Really!’ But she didn’t press her case, knowing full well it was exactly how she would have expected her second in command to have acted.

Marsha knocked on Jeff’s door, slipping inside and closing it again before she said evenly, ‘Miss Pelham and Mr Kane are outside.’

‘What?’ Jeff had been deep in an intricate and soaring budget which had been giving him a headache for days, but as her words registered his eyes cleared. He disliked Penelope every bit as much as he liked Marsha, and he thought this Kane fellow needed his head testing. He didn’t know what had gone on in the marriage—it might have been six of one and half a dozen of the other, though he doubted it—but for the guy to rub Marsha’s nose in it with Penelope was downright cruel. And he had a pretty good idea what the ‘personal business’ Marsha had spoken about earlier involved. ‘You okay?’ he said softly.

Marsha put out her hand, turning it from side to side as she said, ‘So, so,’ her smile shaky.

‘You know you’re far too good for that bozo, don’t you? Let Penelope get her claws into him for a while. He’ll soon wish he’d never been born.’

Marsha’s smile was more natural this time. ‘Thanks, Jeff. I’ll show them in, shall I?’

He nodded. ‘And get Nicki to bring some coffee in, would you? Penelope takes hers with arsenic.’

‘Oh, Jeff.’ The kindness was a little too much, coming at a time when her composure was fragile to say the least. As the smile wobbled and her bottom lip trembled Jeff was round his desk in a shot.

‘Hey, come on. No guy is worth your tears. Now, then—there’s plenty out there who would give their right arm to be with you.’

He put a comforting arm round her shoulders, digging in his pocket for a crisp white handkerchief with the other. He handed it to her with a wry smile. ‘Chin up,’ he said gently. ‘Don’t give either of them the satisfaction of seeing this bothers you.’

‘I’ll try.’

‘That’s my girl.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. Are we interrupting anything?’ Penelope’s cool voice from the doorway brought Marsha’s blonde head and Jeff’s brown one swinging round as though connected by the same cord.

Neither of them had heard the door open, but Penelope was standing staring at them, her eyes aglow, with Taylor filling the space behind her. Marsha gave an inward groan, but to give Jeff his due he maintained the stance for a second or so more, removing his arm from her shoulders almost leisurely as he said, ‘We’ll talk later, Marsha. Okay? Now, perhaps if you’d like to get Nicki organising that coffee…?’

‘Certainly.’ Taking her cue from Jeff, she raised her chin, speaking to the two in the doorway but keeping her eyes on Penelope’s feline face as she said, ‘If you’d like to take a seat?’

She let them come into the room before she made any effort to pass them, but even though she didn’t glance at Taylor she could sense the dark waves emanating from the tall figure. Just as she shut the door she heard Penelope say in an overt whisper, ‘Jeff, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I thought Marsha was merely announcing us. If we’ve embarrassed you in any way…’

She might have known Penelope would turn the knife a little. Marsha took a deep pull of air as she stood outside the closed door, staring across the office.

‘I couldn’t stop her, Marsha.’ Nicki was standing by her desk, her plump face agitated. ‘She muttered something about she wasn’t going to be kept waiting for anyone, and then just opened the door before I realised what she was doing.’

‘Don’t worry, Nicki, it wasn’t your fault.’ Marsha’s voice was soothing, but she was working on automatic.

What on earth had it looked like in there to Taylor? She imagined their stance from his eyes. Nothing short of a clinch, that was what. Rats! She walked across to her desk, her tone preoccupied as she said, ‘They want coffee, please, Nicki.’

As the other woman bustled off Marsha gazed down at the papers on her desk, but she wasn’t seeing the figures in front of her. This was all she needed! Damn Penelope. It wouldn’t make any difference that it was well-known Jeff was madly in love with his wife and a devoted family man; Penelope would have her last pound of flesh with this one.

She wrestled with what she could do or say until Nicki returned with the coffee, but once her secretary was seated at her desk again Marsha told herself she had to clear her mind and concentrate on the job in hand. She had very little time to organise everything, and all the agonising in the world couldn’t turn back time. Taylor would have to think what he liked, and if any gossip started circulating Jeff was the sort of person who would nip it in the bud, Penelope or no Penelope.

It was only ten minutes later when the interjoining door opened, and although Marsha’s stomach turned over she deliberately took her time about raising her eyes, keeping her expression calm and serene.

‘I need to talk to you.’ Taylor had stopped by her desk, Penelope by his side, and Marsha thought the other woman would burst a blood vessel when he turned his head, saying, ‘I’ll be along shortly, Penelope.’

‘Fine, fine.’ It was an immediate recovery, but Penelope was good at those.

Jeff, too, had paused, and now he said, ‘We’re going along to discuss a few items in this proposal with Tim. Can you cope here, Marsha?’

He was asking about more than the office and they were all aware of it. Marsha nodded, her voice steady as she said, ‘Of course, but don’t forget your appointment at four o’clock.’

‘I won’t.’

As Penelope and Jeff left Marsha turned to Nicki, who was all agog whilst pretending to work. ‘I’m going to be here late tonight, Nicki. Could you pop down to the canteen and get something for my tea? A salad or sandwiches will do—something like that. I’ll settle up with you when you come back.’

‘Sure.’ Nicki rose immediately, but not before she had given Taylor the once-over, her face unmistakably hostile.

It was Taylor who spoke first when they were alone. He perched on the edge of her desk, bringing well-cut trousers tight over hard male thighs as he said, ‘She doesn’t like me.’

‘What?’ It hadn’t been what she’d expected.

‘Your secretary. She doesn’t like me.’

‘Well, there has to be the odd female or two who are immune to your charms, surely?’ Marsha said with a lightness she was proud of, considering the circumstances.

He eyed her steadily. ‘Like to explain what that—’ he indicated the office behind him with a jerk of his head ‘—was all about?’

A hundred sharp rejoinders burned on her tongue, but she didn’t voice any of them. She stared at him for a moment or two, as though his words were taking time to filter through. ‘I assume by “that” you mean the friendly arm round the shoulders?’

‘Is that what it was?’

‘Jeff is very happily married with two children. He is also a very nice man, who is a friend as well as my boss.’

Dark eyebrows rose. ‘I’ve known several very happily married men who have the family-man image down to a fine art and also an obliging mistress on the side,’ he said coolly.

‘I don’t doubt for a minute you are acquainted with that side of life,’ she shot back tightly, ‘but Jeff isn’t.’