Michelle Douglas - The Secretary's Secret

His gaze sliced to the path that led around the side of the house—the path that would take him to his car and freedom. She recognized the hunger that flashed across his face before al expression was cut off again.

‘I—’

An almighty crash from within the house interrupted whatever he’d been about to say. Kit spun around. One of the deliverymen appeared at the back door. ‘I…uh…a wal ’s fal en down.’

She blinked. ‘It’s what?’ She took off at a run. Her beautiful house!

‘Kit, wait, it might not be safe!’

She ignored Alex’s shout. It couldn’t be any more dangerous than being out in the back garden with him. His footsteps pounded behind her, but he didn’t catch up with her until she came to a dead halt at the edge of the living room. He slammed into her and she winced as pain cramped her back again. She coughed at the plaster dust thick in the air.

‘Sorry.’ He gripped her shoulders to steady her.

‘Okay?’

She couldn’t answer him. The warmth of his hands had memories sideswiping her, memories that demanded she turn and rest herself in his arms.

Crazy! She couldn’t talk but she could resist such insane impulses. She managed a nod.

He immediately transferred his attention to the deliverymen. ‘Anyone hurt?’

She closed her eyes. She was a hundred different kinds of a fool where this man was concerned.

The deliverymen al assured Alex that they were unhurt and Kit opened her eyes to survey the damage. She waved a hand in front of her face to try and dispel some of the dust. ‘What happened?’

Her house. Her beautiful house.

As the dust settled, a great hole appeared in her wal where her brand new shelves should’ve been.

They lay in disarray amidst the clutter and mess on the floor. Alex swore. ‘Didn’t you look for a supporting beam?’

‘Course I did,’ a dusty figure muttered. ‘Take a look yourself.’

Alex did. He poked and prodded and then swore at whatever he’d discovered. Kit’s heart sank. Her budget didn’t run to expensive repairs and—

Al her thoughts slammed to a halt when he stuck his head through the hole and peered upwards.

‘Alex!’ The protest squeaked out of her. What if more stuff fel down?

It was only when he backed out again that she noticed the three deliverymen edging towards the door. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ She’d meant to utter the words in her best scary secretary voice, but it came out as a squeak too.

‘Sorry, love, but we’ve delivered your furniture.

There’s nothing more we can do here.’ With that they turned tail and fled.

‘Hold on a minute!’

A firm hand wrapping around her upper arm prevented her from setting off after them. ‘It’s not their fault, Kit. Let them go.’

She wrenched herself out of his grip and then coughed as dust rose up around them, disturbed by her agitated movements. It settled on the shoulders, the sleeves, the lapels of Alex’s finely tailored suit. It settled everywhere, even on his eyelashes. Kit yanked her gaze away. She didn’t want to notice how the dust on his eyelashes made the brown of his irises deeper and clearer. She didn’t want to notice anything about Alex Hal am.

He went to take her arm, but she evaded him. She He went to take her arm, but she evaded him. She didn’t want him touching her again either. She didn’t want to notice how his touch was imprinted on her soul. As if she were his woman. She wasn’t!

She whirled away from him. ‘What do you know about any of this anyway?’

He brushed a hand through his hair, shaking plaster dust out of it. He shrugged and sort of grimaced. ‘I’m a builder by trade, Kit.’

‘No, you’re not. You’re a multi-mil ionaire property developer.’ She planted her feet. ‘Builder my foot,’

she muttered under her breath.

‘I’m a multi-mil ionaire property developer and a builder by trade.’

She frowned. ‘But you have an economics degree.’ She’d seen it on the wal of his office.

‘Mature-age entry. Part-time attendance. How do you think I funded a tertiary education?’

She stared at him and then shook her head. Had she ever real y known him?

Al the intimate ways she had known him rose up through her. When he raised an eyebrow she realized she was staring. She pushed the memories away and bit her lip, wished it weren’t so hard to catch her breath. ‘So…’ she waved at the hole in the wal ‘…you know about al this?’

He nodded.

She bit back a sigh. ‘Right then, you’d better tel me the worst.’

He glanced at the wal and then back at her. A frown formed in his eyes. ‘The wal stud is rotten with damp. That’s why it didn’t hold the shelves and, as you can see, when they fel they took a great chunk of plaster with them. Kit, there’s a hole in the roof.

Looks as if you’l need to find a new place to rent.’

‘I’m not renting, Alex.’ Kit wanted to sink to the floor amid al the chaos and rest for a bit. ‘I’ve bought this house. It belongs to me.’

Alex pushed his jacket back to plant his hands on his hips. ‘How the hel does one buy a house in just three weeks?’

‘Private sale.’ Her hands rested in the smal of her back as she grimaced and stretched. ‘We rushed it through.’

The owners had seen her coming a mile off. ‘At least tel me you had a building inspection done.’

‘The previous owners told me it was fine. The real estate agent said he could vouch for them personal y.’

‘Did you get anything in writing?’

He knew the answer before she shook her head.

How could a woman so savvy and efficient in dealing with demanding clients and difficult staff make such an elementary mistake? His gaze drifted to her waist and his lips thinned.

She rested her hands on her knees and only then did he notice how unwel she looked. Pregnant women, they threw up a lot, right? He grimaced at the reminder of his own behaviour earlier. ‘Kit, are you going to be sick?’

‘Don’t think so,’ she mumbled.

She straightened. He noticed the way her hand went to the smal of her back as if trying to massage away a pain there. He did a rough calculation. If he were the father, Kit would be nearly four months into her pregnancy. He couldn’t remember when Jacqueline had started getting back pain. He was pretty sure it was later than four months. ‘Are you sure you’re feeling al right?’

‘I’m pregnant,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t have some disease!’

He figured he deserved that, but…he real y didn’t like her colour.

‘And it’s been a great day,’ she continued. ‘The father of my child throws up when I tel him the happy news and now I have a hole not only in my wal but, if what you are tel ing me is true, in my roof too! You know what, Alex? I’m feeling on top of the world right now.’

She had a point. Several, in fact. Rather valid points at that. He couldn’t help it. He glanced at her waist again. As far as he could tel , there wasn’t any change there at al .

Perhaps this could turn out to be a glorious mistake?

He glanced at the hole in the wal and knew he was grasping at straws. Kit had a hole in her wal and she was pregnant.

He was in the middle of a nightmare.

He was going to suffocate. Al the plaster dust in the room felt as if it had lodged in his throat. He didn’t do kids. He didn’t do family. He wanted out of here.

He dragged in a hoarse gasp of air and closed his eyes, concentrating on his breathing. Kit had told him he could walk away.

He wanted to run, escape, as fast as he could.

He wanted to stampede for the door. Charge through it and never come back.

He opened his eyes, glanced at the door and then glanced at Kit, who’d backed up to perch on the edge of the nearest sofa, which was stil wrapped in the heavy-duty plastic it had arrived in. He frowned as he looked at her more closely. One moment she was pale, the next she was flushed. Before he had time to think better of it, he reached out and rested the back of his hand against her forehead.