‘You—’ Grey took her upper arm into his free hand as he stared with aggravation, and something else that wasn’t aggravation at all, right into her eyes ‘—are a very odd kind of personal assistant.’
She could have taken offence, but she didn’t. Maybe because his fingers held her arm in a gentle clasp. He might not want to admit it, but Soph thought he found her at least a little intriguing.
His eyes widened and he stepped abruptly away from her. Soph backed towards the door. She had to put distance between them before the Gremlin of Temptation struck and she said something terribly inappropriate.
Australian author Jennie Adamsgrew up in a rambling farmhouse surrounded by books, and by people who loved reading them. She decided at a young age to be a writer, but it took many years and a lot of scenic detours before she sat down to pen her first romance novel. Jennie is married, with two adult children, and has worked in a number of careers and voluntary positions, including transcription typist and pre-school assistant. Jennie makes her home in a small inland city in New South Wales. In her leisure time she loves long, rambling walks, starting knitting projects that she rarely finishes, chatting with friends, trips to the movies, and new dining experiences.
Jennie loves to hear from her readers, and can be contacted via her website at www.jennieadams.net
Dear Reader
Families come in all shapes and sizes. I confess I have unashamedly explored some of the motivations, behaviours and attitudes of my own broad ‘family’ as I’ve written each of my Gable sisters stories. All of that exploration is underpinned with the one special ingredient that gives us hope, holds us up and keeps us going. Love.
The Gable sisters’ journey began when middle sister Chrissy Gable butted heads with Nate Barrett as she determined to protect her elderly employer from harm in HER MILLIONAIRE BOSS, and instead fell into the love of a lifetime herself. It carried through when Bella, the eldest Gable sister, and Luc Monticelli faced their combined difficult pasts in THE ITALIAN SINGLE DAD, and were finally able to find forgiveness and healing and a future together.
Now it is Sophia Gable’s turn to find something even beyond the wonderful love of her sisters. And, indeed, Soph is set to take on the world, or at least the part of it populated by a certain wounded, grumbly and delicious employer named Grey Barlow—whether he thinks her quirky way of assisting and caring for him is outrageous or not! Grey is equally determined to protect himself from entanglements, but will his heart be able to resist the onslaught of one determined and unusual assistant?
I hope you enjoy Soph and Grey’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it, and in this centenary year of celebrating so many wonderful Mills & Boon stories perhaps the Gable sisters will live on in your hearts just a little, as they have in mine.
Love and hugs
Jennie
THE BOSS’S UNCONVENTIONAL ASSISTANT
BY
JENNIE ADAMS
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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For Mark, because you always smile when I sing.
CHAPTER ONE
‘SO THIS is where a multimillionaire property developer comes for the occasional weekend away from the city.’ Sophia Gable made the observation as she drew her elderly yellow car to a stop outside Grey Barlow’s country home. ‘Or in this case it’s where he comes to recuperate from an accident.’
The house sat part way up an unspoiled section of Victorian mountainside, a large, solid structure made of slate and stone and mortar with a weathered roof of terracotta tiles. Vines twined about the veranda posts. Meadows full of wild flowers bloomed in every direction. Beyond those, snowcapped mountains rose in early spring splendour.
It was a change from the hustle and bustle of Melbourne, but Soph was adaptable. She glanced at the white flop-eared domestic rabbit that rested, nose twitching, in a deep basket strapped to the front passenger seat of the car. Alfred might also enjoy the change of scene.
Despite Soph’s efforts to remain calm, a small bout of nerves surfaced. This was a change of more than just her usual city surroundings. She sucked in a steadying breath. Her career change had been the right thing and for her first assignment she got to help a man in need, which she knew she would find fulfilling. It was all perfect. There was nothing to worry about.
Nothing except the fact that Soph had used up three of her four weeks of financial buffer zone before the We Work for You agency had given her this first posting. But the agency would see this proof of her versatility and skill and go on to send her into all sorts of varied jobs where she could help others and feel great as she did so.
Soph climbed out of the car, twitched her fluffy cerise jumper and black trousers into place and spared just a moment to admire the matching crimson ankle boots. With a cheerful expression pasted on to her face, she headed for the house and climbed the steps to the veranda.
‘ You’re Sophia Gable, the assistant I acquired through the staffing agency?’ The question came as a low rumble of sound from a corner of the veranda where the speaker would have had a perfect view of Gertie the Beetle’s arrival, and Soph’s exodus from said car. ‘I thought you’d be older, less colourful.’
Was it the crimson tips in her hair? They probably looked a bit metallic in the sunlight, now Soph thought about it, but she’d wanted power hair for this fresh start. She squinted into the shadowed corner.
‘I’m Sophia, but most people call me Soph. I hope you will too, Mr Barlow.’ Despite the shadows, she could make out a cast on his arm and one foot in an ankle brace, stuck out awkwardly in front of him where he sat in an outdoor chair.
Poor fellow, but at least his injuries were temporary. ‘The position outline said clerical with a bit of housekeeping and cooking, other general duties and assistance related to your injuries as required. I want to assure you I’m prepared for all contingencies. I’ve given quite a bit of thought to how I can best assist in your recovery.’
‘You can assist by performing the required tasks and driving me places when needed. I’m certain nothing else will be necessary.’ He rapped the words out with every appearance of annoyance and even a hint of suspicion. ‘My injuries are simple, after all.’ Following this pronouncement he glared and said, ‘I’m merely dealing with a sprained ankle and a broken arm. There’s nothing at all to fuss about.’
‘That’s a very positive outlook.’ Though a bit taken aback, Soph tried to put a good spin on his grouchiness. The man may have placed his injuries last on his list of needs with the agency, but they were still needs. He might require a little coaxing to accept help with them. That was all. ‘Even so, I have lots of great ideas—’
‘Sit down, please.’ He interrupted her without compunction and gestured towards the chair opposite his. ‘At least you’re not late, but I don’t have a lot of time for pleasantries.’
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