Margaret Mayo: A Night With Consequences

Finally she heard Blake’s door open and close, followed by the murmur of his voice. At first she thought he had someone with him, but then realised he was on the telephone. Even when there was silence she still did not settle down.

Her fertile imagination saw him undressing, and she couldn’t stop herself visualising the hard, strong lines of his body. She even imagined threading her fingers through those dark chest hairs. How would it feel? Would they be soft and springy? Or quite firm? Would the heat of his body transfer itself to her fingers? Would he capture her hand and hold it against his beating heart?

She had absolutely no idea. But she did know that something was happening to her own body just by thinking about it. And if she carried on like this she would get no sleep tonight.

But how to stop her thoughts? These were new feelings. Her body felt vibrantly alive and she could not help wishing that he would unlock the door and tiptoe into her room and slide into bed beside her.

What she would do if he actually did she had no idea. Probably scream at him to go away. Ask him what the hell he thought he was doing. But her body warred with her mind. For the first time ever in her life it burned with excitement.

How she managed to sleep Kara was not sure, but somehow she did. She slept well, and was woken only by her alarm. Feeling self-conscious now about the attention that had been paid to her yesterday, she slipped on a white blouse that fastened right up to the neck and one of her dark suits. Then, as there was still plenty of time before breakfast, she went down to the conference room and put out the notes that would be needed during the day.

She did not hear Blake enter, and gave a tiny cry of alarm when she turned to leave and cannoned right into him.

‘Steady, Kara.’ And although it wasn’t necessary his arms came around her.

Immediately the tantalising smell of his cologne stung her nostrils and the crazy sensations from last night came rushing back, threading their way from her throat right down to her stomach. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said huskily, at the same time pulling away from him. ‘I didn’t know you were here.’

‘Are you afraid of me?’ he asked, a frown pulling his brows together.

‘Of course not.’ Her reply was instant and fierce, and she looked him straight in the eye. But whether he believed her was another thing. If the truth were known she would not have believed herself.

‘Good, because we’re going to be spending an awful lot of time together. Have you eaten breakfast yet?’ And when she shook her head, ‘Then perhaps you will join me and we can go over today’s agenda?’

They had already gone over it many times, thought Kara, but refusing did not appear to be an option. The dining room was full, and all eyes were turned on them as they made their way to Blake’s table.

Blake had never come across any woman who intrigued him as much as Kara Redman did. He could not make up his mind whether she truly was the innocent she appeared or whether she was putting on an act.

‘We’re two of a kind, do you know that?’

Kara stopped picking at a croissant and frowned at him. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘It’s simple. We’ve both lost our fathers, we have no siblings, and we’re both career-minded. Maybe myit career has taken me on a different path from yours, but you’re very good at what you do, very conscientious, which in my eyes makes you the perfect PA. I wish never to lose you.’ And that had to be the truth.

‘It’s very kind of you to say so.’

‘Do you mind if I ask how long it’s been since your father died? I gained the impression the other day that his death had hit you hard. My father died when I was just eleven, so I’ve had some time now to get used to it.’

Instantly Kara’s face changed. A mask came over it, and when she spoke her voice had become much cooler. Blake instantly felt her withdrawing from him. ‘I’d really rather not talk about him, if you don’t mind. My father was—well, he wasn’t a very nice man. And that’s more than I should have told you. I’m sorry.’

‘And I’m sorry that I asked.’ Her confession had stunned Blake and he wished now that he had said nothing. Kara’s hurt still sounded raw. Maybe one day he would discover exactly what sort of man her father had been, but for the time being he needed to bring the conversation round to something pleasant.

‘I lived here for a while,’ he told her. ‘It’s a beautiful country. My mother is half Italian.’

To his relief a spark of interest brightened her eyes. ‘Does she still live here?’

‘Actually, no. She prefers England. Says she likes to be closer to me. But I do have cousins in Seville.’

‘And will you be visiting them after the conference? I’ve never known you take a holiday.’

‘I doubt it,’ he answered. ‘My work means far more to me than spending time looking up relatives. How about you? Where do you go when you take your annual leave?’

Kara shrugged and looked as though she wished he had not asked her that question either. ‘I stay at home. My mother isn’t well enough to travel.’

Of course. He was forgetting her parent’s illness. ‘In that case you have no right criticising me,’ he said, accompanying his words with a smile. Sometimes Kara looked as though she was terrified of him and he had no idea why. She intrigued him, and he felt a very real need to get to know her better while they were here.

Kara found the first day of the conference an eye opener. She was spellbound. Watching Blake take command, the respectful interest everyone had in him, the energy that buzzed around the room, somehow invigorated her as well. She felt more alive than she had in a long time.

She had expected to sit quietly by Blake’s side, making notes, feeding him any information he did not have readily to hand, but somehow she found herself being drawn in.

Maybe the fact that she was fully conversant with everything helped. She had made it her business to be the most efficient PA Blake had ever had so that he would never feel the need to get rid of her. And she felt very proud of herself when she was able to answer any question that he threw her way.

‘A very successful first day,’ he announced when the meeting broke up. ‘Thanks to your excellent organisational skills. You’ve done me proud, Kara, thank you.’

Kara felt swift colour flood her cheeks. ‘I only did what I’m getting paid for.’

‘And more,’ he said, his eyes locking into hers so that she felt a swift river of heat tumble its way through her body. ‘Remind me to give you a rise when we get back. For now, I think we should get some air before dinner. We need to stretch our legs.’

Kara was not sure whether this was a command or a suggestion. ‘I actually thought of relaxing in my room.’ The whole day had proved more exhausting than she had expected.

‘Nonsense!’ he said briskly. ‘You need fresh air and exercise. It’s either a walk—I could show you some of the sights Milan has to offer, La Scala for instance—or—’ his eyes lit up as he spoke ‘—we could take advantage of the swimming pool. You do swim, Kara?’

Every nerve in her body shuddered. The mere thought of seeing all that exposed, bronzed, muscle-packed flesh, scared her to death. It was not that she did not want to see him, she did—her heart raced at the thought—but she was afraid that she might give herself away in the process.

‘I do,’ she answered, unaware that her voice had gone suddenly husky. ‘But I think I’d prefer to walk. In any case I haven’t packed a swimsuit. I had no idea that swimming was part of the agenda.’

Blake smiled his appreciation at her attempted humour, his eyes crinkling at the corners and making him look—different. Softer, kinder, poles apart from the tough-guy businessman she had got to know so well. This new man frightened her. He sent prickles of heat across her skin and an ache low down in her belly.