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

But when she looked closer, at individuals, she realised that she recognized quite a number of the men, that several of them had either met with Marcus on business, or she had actually seen their photographs—including Mike Reynolds’s!—in the business newspapers in connection with one successful deal or another.

‘Exactly,’ Marcus pronounced as he saw the dawning realisation on her face. ‘It seems I’m not the only one to have heard the rumours. Or that Desmond isn’t averse to actually using those rumours to his own advantage,’ he added knowingly.

Kit instantly saw what he meant by that remark. Bring together a group of a dozen businessmen, supposedly on a social basis, but with the real object of picking up a bargain on a business deal—like sharks circling one of their own injured species!—and the price on those deals was sure to go higher than if business had been done with those individuals on a private basis.

She gave a rueful smile. ‘He could even have started them.’

Marcus turned to give her an admiring look. ‘You’re turning out to be amazingly astute, Kit,’ he said appreciatively.

She felt the blush in her cheeks at this unexpected compliment. ‘It was just a guess,’ she admitted. ‘I could be completely wrong.’

He gave her a teasing smile. ‘I’m not sure that—well, well, well,’ he said consideringly as something over her left shoulder caught and held his attention, his expression once again enigmatic.

Kit stiffened. ‘What is it?’ she asked as he continued to look at something—or someone!—behind her.

‘Hmm?’ he murmured distractedly. ‘Let’s go and say hello to our esteemed host, shall we?’ He didn’t wait for her reply before grasping her arm with his free hand and directing her across the hallway.

Kit almost came to a full stop again as she saw their host chatting amiably with a number of people, easily recognizing several of them; Mike Reynolds had joined them, since she and Marcus had left him a couple of minutes ago.

Marcus turned to give her a curious glance as he sensed her reluctance to join the group. ‘How about we have a little chat about—your friend, later, hmm?’ he suggested.

She gave him a sharp look before replying, ‘Mike Reynolds is no friend of mine!’

‘I already gathered that,’ Marcus replied. ‘But I have a feeling that he was once,’ he added speculatively.

‘No way!’ Kit denied heatedly. ‘Mike Reynolds is nothing but a—’

‘Later, Kit,’ Marcus advised tersely as they reached their host. ‘And don’t forget what I told you: observe and listen.’ He turned a socially bright smile on Desmond Hayes. ‘Quite a crowd you have here, Desmond,’ he greeted the other man jovially, releasing Kit’s arm to shake the other man’s hand.

‘Marcus!’ The other man’s face lit with recognition. ‘So glad you could make it,’ he welcomed with the smooth charm for which he was renowned. He was a tall, attractive man in his late fifties, his dark hair sprinkled with silver, his lined face handsome, his smiling blue eyes sharply intelligent.

Kit stood slightly behind the two men as they greeted each other, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. ‘Observe and listen,’ Marcus had told her—when all she really wanted to do was blend in with the velvet-embossed wallpaper, disappear into it if that were at all possible!

How much longer was this torture to go on before she could escape to the bedroom she had been allocated and actually give herself time to think—and breathe? Because she was sure she had all but stopped doing the latter a good five minutes ago!

‘And this is Kit. Kit…?’ Marcus called sharply, having turned to introduce her only to find her lurking behind him.

She moistened dry lips, keeping her gaze down on the carpeted floor as she held out her hand to the other man. ‘Mr Hayes,’ she greeted shyly.

‘Desmond, please,’ the older man encouraged with warm invitation, holding onto her hand to pull her slightly forward as she would have released it. ‘And just where has Marcus been hiding you?’ he queried.

Kit swallowed, still not looking up, but very much aware that the group around them had grown silent now as they listened to the exchange. Exchange? It could hardly be called that when Desmond Hayes was the one doing all the talking! In a flirtatious way he had. And, to add to her confusion, he still hadn’t released her hand!

She moistened her lips once again. ‘I—’

‘Careful, Desmond,’ Marcus told the other man with lazy derision, his arm moving casually about Kit’s shoulders as he did so.

‘Private property, eh, Marcus?’ the older man said regretfully.

Kit found this whole conversation distasteful—and attention-drawing. Which was what she most certainly didn’t want at this particular moment!

‘Something like that,’ Marcus returned noncommittally.

‘Can I offer the two of you glasses of champagne?’ Without waiting for their answer, Desmond Hayes plucked two flutes off the tray that a passing waiter was carrying.

Kit accepted the glass he held out to her, taking a much-needed sip of the bubbly liquid it contained. Getting drunk certainly wouldn’t help this situation, but hopefully she would become too numb to care!

Marcus held up the two bags he was carrying. ‘Are you going to tell us where the two of us are to sleep so that I can get rid of these, or do we just go upstairs and take our pick of bedrooms?’ he prompted.

‘I’ll have Forbes take your luggage upstairs,’ Desmond Hayes murmured apologetically, giving Kit’s hand one last familiar squeeze before releasing it to turn and signal to the butler standing unobtrusively down the hallway. The elderly man immediately came over to relieve Marcus of the two bags.

Not that Kit was taking too much notice of these proceedings, still caught up in Marcus’s last comment, especially the part about, ‘where the two of us are to sleep’!

Surely Marcus wasn’t expecting them to share a bedroom? That would be taking her supposed role as the current woman in his life a little too far. In fact, as far as she was concerned, much too far!

‘Catherine,’ Marcus was greeting lightly now as their host disappeared to instruct Forbes on where to put their luggage, turning to smile coolly at the woman who stood slightly apart from the other guests.

Almost as if, like Kit, she were trying to remain unobtrusive. And yet Kit knew that couldn’t be true. It was more likely that the older woman was watching them all with the contemptuous amusement for which she was so well known.

The woman’s height only added to her imperiousness, her smooth, shoulder-length hair completely without adornment, or any pretence of hiding its silver colour, confirming her sixty-seven years, though her figure was still youthfully slim in the plain black dress she wore, and the unlined beauty of her face dominated by hard silver-grey eyes.

Kit had never actually met her before, and yet she would have known her anywhere.

Catherine Grainger.

Marcus’s arch business enemy…

But also the very, very last person of whom Kit wanted to be within one hundred miles!

CHAPTER FIVE

‘WILL you stop pacing up and down like that?’ Marcus said as he lay back on the bed watching her. ‘I feel exhausted just watching you!’

Kit spared him an annoyed glance, but didn’t hesitate in her pacing. This whole situation was intolerable, and all he could do was lie there looking—looking—utterly desirable!

His dark hair was ruffled, his eyes sleepily sensual—and the fact that he was completely relaxed as he lay on the bed certainly didn’t help to allay that impression!

‘Look on the bright side, Kit—’

‘Is there one?’ she groaned, moving to stand next to the bed. ‘And will you please get up?’ she demanded. ‘This is where I have to sleep tonight.’ Something that was going to be virtually impossible for her to do now she had the image of this man lying back on her pillow!

‘Sorry!’ Marcus sat up slowly, eyeing her with amusement. ‘But surely that is the bright side?’ he encouraged. ‘At least we have adjoining bedrooms rather than having to share one.’

Oh, yes, that was really comforting! The connecting door between the two bedrooms stood wide open at the moment, with no key on either side to lock it even when it was closed. Kit knew this, for she had already looked for one!

The half an hour or so of torture Marcus had spent downstairs socializing with the other weekend guests before coming up to change for dinner was nothing compared to finding that they had been given connecting bedrooms.

‘Personally, I think it was pretty decent of Desmond not to have just assumed that we—well, that we—’