Back In The Boss's Bed

He twisted a slim gold pen between long, slim fingers. ‘So what would you say was the most overriding characteristic he possessed?’

She wanted to be truthful, even though her instincts baulked at having to tell this man anything! ‘He seemed to know what he was doing. He exuded confidence.’

That figured. ‘Con men always do. That’s why people believe their lies and their evasion.’

‘Do you put everyone in a snug little compartment?’

‘Human nature being what it is, I usually find it works.’

How cold he sounded—more like a computer than a man. She wondered what compartment he had put her in, and then decided she would rather not think about it.

She gave him what she hoped was a calm and pleasant smile. ‘Isn’t wondering just why it all happened a bit of a waste of time?’ she queried. ‘What’s done is done—surely what we need to do now is to rectify it?’

At last, he thought. A little common sense instead of the impenetrable maze of feminine logic! ‘Yes.’ The gleam from his grey eyes was one of challenge. ‘Think you’re up to it, Kiloran? It’s going to be a lot of hard work.’

‘I’ve never shirked from hard work.’

Looking at her, he doubted it. She looked as if nothing had troubled her more in her life than what moisturiser to use on that porcelain skin of hers. Or which item of clothing she was going to cover that delectable body with. ‘I’m pleased to hear it. And the sooner we get started the better. I’ll be back first thing on Monday morning.’

He began to collect the papers which lay on the desk in front of him, signalling, thought Kiloran, that the interview was at an end! He had grilled her, while she was left feeling as though she knew precisely nothing about the man who would now effectively be her boss! Just who was Adam Black?

‘You come from round here, don’t you?’ she asked casually.

In the act of putting the papers into his briefcase, Adam paused, his eyes narrowing.

‘That’s right.’ He wondered how much she knew and how much her grandfather had told her. And then asked himself did he really care what a spoilt little rich girl thought about him?

‘Have you still got family living locally?’ Kiloran persisted.

‘Not any more,’ he answered, but there was mockery in his eyes now as he enjoyed her feeling of powerlessness—that the man who would temporarily be calling the shots could just please himself. He gave a quick glance at his watch. ‘I’m afraid I really do have to move.’

Leaving Kiloran feeling like someone with nowhere to go. She watched as he ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair and gave her a swift and not particularly friendly smile.

‘I’ll see you first thing on Monday,’ he said. ‘Goodbye, Kiloran.’

CHAPTER FOUR (#u5f43010f-6cee-55a6-bb64-d92b2744aab3)

WITH icy politeness, Kiloran showed Adam out, watching as his powerful car shot off down the long, winding drive, spraying gravel in its wake. Like a bat out of hell, she thought as the car became a pinprick in the distance, and then she went to look for her grandfather.

She found him in the library, and he looked up from his book as she burst in.

‘Kiloran.’ He smiled, but his eyes were wary.

‘Grandfather, how could you?’

‘How could I what, my dear?’

‘Ask that…that…high-handed megalomaniac for help!’

‘He might be high-handed,’ he conceded, ‘but he’s no megalomaniac. Men like Adam Black don’t have delusions of grandeur—they don’t need to. His success speaks for itself. We’re very lucky to have him.’

Lucky? It didn’t feel lucky—it felt like…Kiloran couldn’t define exactly how it did feel, but all she knew was that he had stirred her up into a state where she would have liked to have smashed something. She remembered his cool, dark good looks. His censorious face as he had taken her to task about her mismanagement!

Can’t you face the simple truth, Kiloran? a voice mocked her. Or is it that you simply can’t bear the fact that you had to hear it from him?

‘Well, if he’s so wonderful—then why is he here? There must be a million other places he could be giving the benefit of his superior knowledge to!’

‘He’s doing me a favour,’ said Vaughn slowly.

‘Why?’

Her grandfather looked at her. ‘That’s the way it goes in business sometimes.’

Something in his voice was warning her off, and for the first time in her life Kiloran felt excluded, as if she were trying to dip her toe into a man’s world, which she had no right to enter. And something in her grandfather’s eyes told her not to bother trying.

‘Relax, Kiloran,’ said the old man gently. ‘We couldn’t be in better hands.’

How that phrase mocked her—and not just mocked her, but filled her with a strange kind of excitement as her mind was dazzled with disturbingly sensual images of being in Adam’s hands. Of his experienced fingers playing sensual havoc all over her. And that was all part of the problem, she realised.

He wasn’t the kind of man you could look upon with any kind of indifference. He dominated the space around him with such intensity that he seemed to leave a great, gaping hole in the atmosphere when he was gone. And how on earth was she going to co-operate with him and give of her best if all she could think about was how infuriatingly gorgeous he was?

Just stop it, she told herself fiercely.

Stop it.

Was that one of the reasons behind his success? That formidable presence? She remembered the way his face had become shuttered when she had asked if he still had family living close by. What really did she know about Adam Black, besides his successful professional reputation?

Nothing, that was what, and her grandfather obviously wasn’t going to tell her anything either.

The party she was going to that night suddenly lost some of its allure. A fact borne out by the evening itself, when a perfectly acceptable man—who might normally have made a pleasant companion for the evening—left her feeling something she hadn’t felt for a long time.

Restless.

Too restless to sleep. As if something had been woken in her that she could not put a name to, something which taunted her from the edge of her dreams, only to disappear when she opened her eyes. She tossed and turned into the small hours, drifting off only to wake up and find that it was still dark. And when she went down to breakfast, it was with an almighty headache.

She pushed the food around her plate like someone convalescing from an illness. She had known that things were bad, but somehow Adam Black’s terse and critical assessment had made them seem a million times worse. Maybe rural living had blunted the edges of her judgement. Maybe her grandfather should never have appointed her in the first place.

Racked with self-doubt, she stared out at the summer garden—at the splashed colour spectrum of the roses and the bright blue spears of delphinium. What else could match a view like that? Certainly nothing that London could offer.

She had come back to live in the country for everything that view represented—a pace of life which was so much more relaxed than the hurly-burly of the city. Here, values seemed more grounded and there was time to do the things she enjoyed. Simple pleasures, far removed from the smoke-filled clatter of City bars. She rode her horse, played tennis and mixed with a set of people with similar tastes and passions.

No, maybe passion was the wrong word. Passion meant strong and uncontrollable emotion and Kiloran could certainly never have been accused of that.

Hers had been an uncertain childhood and her mother’s moods capricious as she had sought happiness in the arms of a series of men until she had finally hit the jackpot and married her millionaire. Kiloran, in contrast, had strived for nothing more ambitious than balance, vowing never to go the way of her mother and look for happiness in someone else. She would find it within herself. She wanted nothing more than safety and security. Of knowing that she could survive on her own.

But a life which had seemed safe and predictable now looked anything but, and not just because the business was threatened. No, Adam Black had stormed into her life like a rampaging hurricane and, just like land left in the wake of a hurricane, she now felt distinctly flattened.

And distinctly disorientated.