The Beautiful Widow. Helen Brooks

four years.

      She didn’t regret her time at home with the twins. Richard had had a very good job as a sales executive for a large pharmaceutical company and they should have been able to manage perfectly well until the twins started school and she went into the workplace again. She had been very careful to shop wisely and make a penny stretch to two, making the most of two-for-one offers and learning how to cook the cheaper cuts of meat until they were as tender as anything offered at the best restaurants. Most of the girls’ clothes she’d made herself, copying the latest designer fashions with such success she’d earnt a little extra for the family finances when friends had asked her to do the same for them. She hadn’t realised at the time that her efforts were pointless and that Richard’s double life was about to blow their family apart. She’d been so gullible and stupid.

      ‘Mrs George?’

      The deep, slightly husky voice brought her out of the darkness. She blinked. He wanted an answer to his question. Following on from her thoughts, she said hesitantly, ‘I—I suppose I’m out of practice regarding interviews and selling myself.’

      Even if she hadn’t realised instantly the last words weren’t the best she could have chosen, the way the carved lips twitched slightly would have told her, but his voice was soothing when he murmured, ‘Not at all. You’ve done an excellent job.’

      Her soft brown eyes sharpened. She didn’t know how to take that. She didn’t know how to take him. When James had rung her she’d done a little research of her own on the powerhouse that was Steel Landry. She’d wished she hadn’t afterwards; it had made her more nervous. A human dynamo. Hard but fair. Relentless and unmovable when he wanted something. Severely lacking in the milk of human kindness. Admittedly that last had been from a disgruntled ex-employee who hadn’t been up to the position for which he had been employed, but nevertheless it had been unsettling.

      ‘Drink your cocktail, Mrs George,’ he said smoothly, ‘and stop worrying. You’ve got the job if you want it, OK?’

      ‘I have?’ Her eyes opened wide with startled pleasure. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much, Mr Landry.’

      ‘You accept?’ he asked, as though there had ever been a chance she might refuse. ‘Good. In that case we can do away with the Mr Landry and Mrs George. The name’s Steel.’

      ‘But—’ She stopped, not knowing how to continue.

      ‘What?’

      ‘You—you’re my boss,’ she stammered stupidly.

      The crystal eyes crinkled. ‘Did you call James by his surname?’ he asked mildly, finishing his cocktail.

      ‘No, but—’ She paused. ‘That—that’s different.’

      ‘Why? He was your boss, wasn’t he?’

      Yes, but James hadn’t been the head of a small empire worth umpteen millions, and neither had he been drop-dead gorgeous. ‘Things were quite informal at James’s practice,’ she said weakly.

      He nodded. ‘And my employees who work closely with me enjoy that same privilege; my secretary, for example, and my financial director to name but two. This is a new project and I’ll want to be involved at every stage so you’ll be working particularly hand in glove with me. Steel and Toni will do just fine.’

      Toni was kicking herself for objecting. Whatever must he be thinking? He’d just surprised her, that was all. Pulling herself together, she said quickly, ‘Of course. Thank you. Thank you so much. I won’t let you down, I promise.’

      ‘Believe me, Toni, if I had any doubt about that I wouldn’t be offering you the job.’

      She did believe him, and strangely his belief in her was both uplifting and scary at the same time. Uplifting because her self-confidence had taken the mother and father of a knock over the last months, scary because the pressure to show him he’d been right to give her the job had suddenly increased a hundredfold just with hearing him say her name. Silly. Irrational. Emotions a man like Steel Landry would despise.

      She raised her chin in a businesslike manner and assumed a look she prayed was professional. ‘When would you like me to start?’

      ‘We’ll discuss the details over dinner, including salary,’ he said gently.

      The reminder that she hadn’t even asked the basics before accepting the position brought telltale colour to her cheeks again, but this time she didn’t falter. She even managed to inject a suggestion of sophisticated amusement into her tone when she said, ‘I’ve always adhered to the idea you get what you are prepared to pay for in this world.’

      ‘Is that so?’ he said silkily, his eyes intent on her flushed face. ‘Then I hope your salary buys everything I need from you, Toni …’