Taken by the Boss: His Very Personal Assistant / In the Banker's Bed / The Takeover Bid

‘So…’ Catherine removed her own sunglasses to turn those penetrating silver-grey eyes on Kit ‘… why is it, when you assure me that we have never met before, I have the distinct impression we know each other?’

Every defensive bone in Kit’s body cried out to tell this woman the truth, to tell Catherine Grainger exactly why she had this feeling of familiarity, of who and what it was that gave her that feeling!

But another part of her knew she couldn’t do that; she had no intention of betraying a confidence given to her, and to do so would hurt other people as well as herself.

Kit turned her head to look at Catherine. ‘I can assure you—once again!—that the two of us have never met before,’ she said with complete honesty.

What would Marcus think, what would he say or do, if he could see Catherine Grainger talking to Kit now? It would no doubt arouse his suspicions all over again about where those leaks from his office were coming from—when, in point of fact, Kit wouldn’t tell this woman the time of day!

‘So you’ve said,’ Catherine acknowledged distantly, but still looking intensely at Kit with those piercing silver-grey eyes. ‘So what did happen last night?’

Kit gave a start. Although why she was surprised was beyond her; Catherine Grainger was a woman who always got what she wanted, and that included answers to the questions she asked.

Except, not this time… ‘I have no idea what you’re referring to,’ Kit dismissed.

And, in point of fact, she didn’t, not specifically. Was Catherine referring to Mike Reynolds’s unexpected visit to her bedroom, or Marcus’s appearance following that? Whichever it was, it was none of Catherine’s business!

‘Oh, come on, Kit.’ Catherine gave a hard laugh. ‘A man pays an unwelcome visit to your bedroom in the middle of the night and you have no idea what I’m referring to? My dear, if that really is the case, then what an exciting life you must lead!’

Catherine’s reference to an unwelcome visitor to her bedroom didn’t help to enlighten Kit in the least; she could still just as easily be referring to Marcus’s visit as Mike Reynolds’s!

‘Not particularly.’ She answered the other woman tersely. ‘As you say, it was unwelcome and, as such, I think it better to forget it ever happened.’ In both cases. As far as Mike Reynolds was concerned, she hoped she never saw him again. With regard to Marcus’s visit, she had to forget it if she intended to continue working for him.

‘Just pretend it never happened, you mean?’ the older woman mused. ‘My dear, you certainly have spirit!’

And Kit had to stop herself from visibly gnashing her teeth at having Catherine Grainger, of all people, refer to her as ‘my dear’, not once, but twice. She wasn’t Catherine Grainger’s ‘dear’ anything, and never would be!

‘Thank you,’ she accepted briskly.

‘I’m not sure that Desmond intends treating the situation as lightly as you seem able to,’ Catherine announced.

Kit gave her a sharp look. ‘What do you mean?’

Catherine shrugged. ‘It happened in his home, my dear; not exactly pleasant. Especially if you decide to press charges later on.’

She had to be referring to Mike Reynolds’s unwanted visit to Kit’s bedroom, couldn’t possibly think Kit would press charges against Marcus for what had, after all, been a mutual passion.

‘I won’t,’ Kit denied. ‘The Mike Reynoldses of this world are, as you say, unpleasant, but hardly worth disrupting one’s life for.’

‘That’s very commendable,’ Catherine replied graciously. ‘By the way, that’s a really nasty bruise you have on your arm.’

Kit felt the colour flush her cheeks; she had put foundation cream on the discolouration caused by Mike clasping hold of her arm so tightly the night before, but unfortunately she hadn’t quite managed to hide the colours-of-the-rainbow effect in the shape of fingers!

Kit found herself disliking this woman more than ever for drawing attention to her bruising. Was it any wonder that—?

‘My fault, I’m afraid,’ Marcus remarked easily as he dropped down onto Kit’s lounger, bending forward to kiss her bruised arm. ‘A little over-enthusiasm on my part. Sorry, darling,’ he told her throatily.

Kit, having dreaded seeing Marcus again after what had happened between them last night, suddenly found herself very pleased to see him. Especially as he seemed to have summed the situation up at a glance—well… some of it!—and come to her rescue.

She had been so caught up in her conversation with Catherine Grainger that she hadn’t even noticed his approach. But now she could only admire how handsome he looked in his riding jodhpurs and a loose white shirt.

‘Marcus,’ she greeted warmly, her relieved smile telling him how grateful she was for his interruption.

‘Well, it seems I must leave you two lovebirds alone,’ Catherine Grainger murmured as she stood up. ‘A word of advice, though, Marcus…’ She paused beside them. ‘Kit’s skin is far too delicate and fair for such rough lovemaking!’ She strolled away towards the house.

‘Why, that interfering old—’

‘Now, now, Kit, let’s not be bitchy,’ Marcus interrupted her with amusement, his blue eyes reflecting his smile. ‘Catherine is such a cold person herself she’s probably forgotten what lovemaking is like, rough or otherwise!’

Kit grinned. ‘Now who’s being bitchy?’

He straightened to look at her critically. ‘Did Reynolds really do that to you last night?’ His mouth had thinned as he inspected the marks on her arm.

‘Yes—but it doesn’t matter,’ she quickly dismissed as Marcus’s expression darkened even more. She reached out to pick up her towelling robe and pull it on, hoping that hiding the bruises might take Marcus’s mind off their existence. She should have known better. Marcus was nothing if not single-minded.

‘Oh, yes, it matters,’ he assured her softly.

‘Please leave it, Marcus.’ She put a pleading hand on his arm. ‘He’s gone now.’ Mike’s departure was the first thing she had checked on when she had come downstairs this morning. ‘It’s enough that as many people know about it as they do.’

Marcus looked at her searchingly. ‘I owe you an apology for last night—’

‘Couldn’t we just forget about that too?’ she said self-consciously.

‘Can you forget about it?’ he replied huskily.

Forget Marcus kissing her? Forget Marcus caressing her? Forget the way he had aroused her? Forget the way he had been aroused by her?

No—of course she couldn’t forget about it. But the alternative, of leaving his employment and never seeing him again, wasn’t acceptable, either.

She couldn’t quite meet his searching gaze now. ‘I can try,’ she told him slowly.

Marcus gave a shake of his head. ‘I don’t know what the hell came over me, talking to you in the way that I did! And as for—’

‘Please!’ Inwardly Kit cringed; the last thing she wanted was to hear his regrets about kissing and caressing her.

‘Perhaps you’re right,’ he allowed heavily, standing up too. ‘Incidentally, what were you and Catherine Grainger talking about before I arrived? Besides Reynolds, of course.’

Kit gave him a darting look, unable to read anything from his bland expression. Deliberately so? She wasn’t sure. But it was obvious from Marcus’s question that he was still uneasy about her conversations with his arch business rival, that maybe he did still suspect her in some way.

She actually had no idea why Catherine Grainger kept singling her out in this way.

She only knew the reason she would rather the other woman didn’t do so!

She gave Marcus a narrow-eyed look. ‘You still don’t trust me, do you…?’

‘Kit, I have no idea who to trust any more,’ he answered truthfully. ‘I only know that when I do find the traitor in my camp, they are going to wish they had never been born!’

She swallowed hard, not doubting for a moment that he meant what he said. Should she tell him now of her past connection to Catherine Grainger, of the reason she disliked the woman so much she couldn’t possibly be the one who was passing her information?