Michelle Celmer - At His Service - His 9-5 Secretary

He smiled back at her. ‘There’s always one …’

As he started the car, Gina said, ‘They’re very sweet, aren’t they? And that puppy smell. It’s gorgeous.’

‘It wasn’t so gorgeous before Mrs Rothman cleaned them up,’ Harry said practically.

She giggled again. He wondered why such a simple, innocent sound should make him so sexually excited. But then, if he was truthful, he’d been fighting the attraction this woman held for him since day one. Her soft, generous curves, the pale, ginger-speckled skin, that mass of silky hair that shone with myriad shades of red and copper when a shaft of sunshine touched it …

He swung the car on to the road, driving automatically, taken up with his thoughts. Sometimes he’d only had to walk into the office and see Gina sitting demurely at her desk to become as hard as a rock. If she knew the sexual fantasies he’d indulged in … The situation had annoyed him, irritated him on occasion, and certainly disturbed him not a little. It had also frightened the dickens out of him, he realised with a little shock of self-awareness.

If she’d been some brassy, hard-boiled piece it would all have been different. They could have enjoyed each other’s bodies for as long as it had taken for the attraction to burn itself out. If she was attracted to him, that was. He frowned to himself. He’d thought there was a spark between them, but he might be fooling himself here. She’d always been the model of decorum. Damn it, it was an impossible situation. Which was why he had to admit to an initial feeling of relief when she’d said she was leaving.

Did he still feel relief? The car headlights caught a fox crossing the road in front of them, the animal’s red fur and thick bushy tail disappearing into the shadows in the next instant.

He wasn’t sure what he felt any more. He wanted to take her to bed, no question of that. He did not want a woman in his life permanently, set in concrete. And now she had revealed she was leaving because of a man which, he was forced to acknowledge, had thrown him somewhat. It had been a long time since he’d felt the nasty little gremlin of jealousy jabbing at him, but it had been there tonight. Their whole conversation had made him realise he didn’t know Gina as well as he’d thought he did.

She’d said the man wasn’t married, and he believed her. Gina wouldn’t lie. But selfish he most certainly was. She had clearly been seeing him for a long time, and to let her walk away the way he had … A muscle contracted in his jaw. He’d love five minutes alone with the swine.

Another little squeal from Gina brought his eyes to her as she carefully pushed the biggest puppy down in the box again. ‘We’re nearly home,’ he said, just as he swung the car off the road and on to his drive.

‘Not before time.’ She glanced at him as he drew up outside the cottage. ‘How are you going to get them to the sanctuary in the morning? This box won’t be any good.’

‘I’ll find something else. Failing that, a generous contribution to the place might persuade someone to come out and fetch them.’

Once in the cottage, he left Gina in the utility room with the puppies while he went to the garage and sorted out a couple of pieces of wood. When he returned, it was to find her kneeling on the tiles with the puppies scampering about her.

‘They’re so cute.’ She glanced up at him, her eyes alight, and his stomach muscles registered her tousled softness. ‘I thought they were all the same at first, but one’s bigger than the others, and that one—’ she pointed ‘—is smaller, and the other two are the same size.’

He nodded. ‘There are two puddles on the floor,’ he said.

She grimaced. ‘They can’t help that, they’re only babies. Aren’t you?’ she added, lifting the smallest puppy into her arms and stroking the small, downy head. ‘You’re just little babies without your mum. Take no notice of moany old Harry.’

Harry fought down the urge to take her straight upstairs into his bed, and show her that there was pleasure and enjoyment and life after this rat who had let her down. Instead he positioned the wood so it effectively enclosed a third of the utility room, spreading a wad of newspapers in one corner in the hope further puddles would be kept to one spot. In another corner, he made a bed of towels.

In the meantime Gina had wandered into the kitchen and found a couple of saucers, one of which she filled with water and one with pulped dog-food. The minute she came back and put them down, the puppies were on them.

They stood for a good few minutes, watching them feed and explore their new surroundings, laughing at their antics.

They really were four little clowns, Harry thought as he watched the smallest puppy hanging onto the biggest one’s tail by its teeth, before she was bowled over by one of the others. He’d grown up with dogs, but his parents had always chosen ones on the large side—Labradors and German Shepherds. These little mites were quite different, but seemed full of personality.

A stifled yawn at the side of him brought him back to the realisation it was very late. He glanced at his watch and was amazed to see it was after one o’clock. ‘Why don’t you stay the night?’ he said suddenly.

‘What?’

Gina looked as startled as he felt, he told himself with dark humour. Where on earth had that invitation come from?

‘Stay the night,’ he repeated quietly. ‘It’s very late, and you’re obviously dead beat. It seems sensible to stay here.’

He saw her mouth open and close. Something in the blue eyes made him sure she was going to refuse, and he added quickly, ‘Mrs Rothman always keeps the guest-room bed aired and made up.’

He saw her swallow. ‘I couldn’t.’

‘Why?’

‘Why?’ She appeared lost for words for a moment. ‘Because I’ve loads to do in the morning.’

That wasn’t the true story. His mouth dried. He’d bet his bottom dollar she’d arranged to see Lover Boy in the morning. Perhaps before this guy went into work. Damn it, couldn’t she see this man was just using her? Perhaps he even expected a bon-voyage quickie. Without a shred of remorse for the crudity, he said carefully, ‘You’ll be home first thing—I’ve got to go to work, don’t forget. Perhaps we could even drop the puppies off at this sanctuary on the way. That’d be a great help to me. In fact, I don’t know how I’m going to manage it without you.’

She stared at him, her blue eyes dark with some emotion he couldn’t fathom. She was probably weighing up the pain and pleasure of seeing Lover Boy compared to lending him a hand. Feeling he needed to press his cause, he said gently, ‘Like you said, they’re just little babies without their mum. I’d hate for things to be more difficult than they need to be in the morning, and handling the four of them might prove a problem.’ Deciding the end justified the means, he lied through his teeth as he added, ‘You’re used to dogs. I’m not.’

He saw her eyes narrow and realised he’d overdone it when she said, ‘I thought you once told me your parents have always had dogs?’

They had had too many long chats over coffee breaks. Recovering quickly, he smiled. ‘That’s true, but I left home well over a decade ago, besides which these little things bear no resemblance to the sort of dogs I grew up with.’

‘Mrs Rothman thought they were Jack Russell crossed with fox terriers, something like that. They’re not exactly going to be tiny dogs.’

‘But they’re tiny now. And wriggly.’ He wondered how far he could push the helpless-male scenario.

Gina glanced from him to the puppies, who were now quiet again, curled up together and looking pathetically helpless on their bed of towelling. Knowing her soft heart, he murmured, ‘I’d hate to drop one of them.’