Кэрол Мортимер

His Very Personal Assistant


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height of five feet ten inches and looked at Andrea down the length of her nose as she breathed deeply in an effort to stop a cutting reply from leaving her lips. Andrea might be gone from Marcus’s life in a matter of months—in fact, to Kit’s disapproval, the secretaries in the company were taking bets as to how long this particular relationship was going to last!—but in the meantime she had to attempt to be polite to her. Even if sometimes she did inwardly feel like wiping that superior smile off the other woman’s face!

      ‘It doesn’t seem to have affected my current employment,’ Kit finally returned in a pleasant voice—not quite succeeding in hiding her resentment, after all.

      Green eyes narrowed venomously. ‘Why, you—’

      ‘I’ll just ask Mr Maitland if he is free to see you now,’ Kit continued lightly, opening the door to Marcus’s office and closing it firmly behind her. After all, this was nothing personal, just part of her job.

      But that certainly hadn’t been her most successful attempt at handling Andrea Revel, she inwardly berated herself as Marcus raised his head to look scowlingly across at her for her intrusion.

      At the age of thirty-nine, Marcus Maitland had to be one of the most handsome men Kit had ever seen, with that midnight-dark hair and deep blue eyes. His nose was a straight slash, his lips sculptured, his chin square and determined. But she made sure always to regard him with cool impassivity.

      Because she had been warned by Angie Dwyer, this man’s previous PA, when she had come for her interview for the job seven months ago, that the worst possible thing she could do was to fall for Marcus—that he never fell in love with any of the women he was involved with, his relationships with them only ever lasting a couple of months.

      Considering the circumstances that had forced Kit to leave her last job—her boss seemed to have considered it normal policy to be involved with his assistant—she’d had no intention of falling in love with Marcus. Until she had actually met the man himself. Then she’d had trouble believing that any woman within a twenty-mile radius could actually stop herself from being attracted to him!

      The term ‘tall, dark and handsome’ definitely applied to Marcus Maitland, but there was so much else that was attractive about him too. For one thing—when he wasn’t furiously angry, as he was this morning, he was capable of charming even the hardest heart, and his wealth and success had given him a self-confidence that made him stand out in any crowd.

      In a word, Marcus Maitland was gorgeous!

      But Kit took great care never to let him see what she really thought of him.

      Besides, having taken account of Angie Dwyer’s warning, Kit played down her own looks when at work, wearing her copper-coloured hair in a French pleat, keeping her make-up minimal, discarding her contact lenses for thick-rimmed glasses during the day in an effort to lessen the effect of the deep grey of her eyes and surrounding dark lashes. The jackets of the dark business suits she wore were shapeless, the skirts always discreetly knee-length and her shoes low-heeled.

      There was no way, she had decided, after looking at her reflection in the mirror that first morning she had come to work here, that any man seeing her like this would consider it part of her job to keep his bed warm if they should happen to be away on business together!

      Kit had spent too long running round desks, and hotel bedrooms, trying to avoid her previous boss’s less-than-welcome advances, to want a repeat of it in her new job.

      Although once she had actually met Marcus Maitland she hadn’t been quite so sure about that…!

      Still, she had deliberately chosen her role as demure, plain, featureless, figureless Kit McGuire, and so far she had stuck to it.

      But a few more conversations like the one just now with Andrea Revel, and she might just decide to throw caution to the wind and—

      No, she wouldn’t, she gently rebuked herself; she enjoyed her work here, the people she worked with, the man she worked for, and most important of all—she needed the job! Besides, how would it look on her c.v. if, when she applied for another position, she had to own up to being dismissed for insubordination to her boss’s girlfriend?

      But it would be nice, just for once, if Marcus could see what she looked like when away from the office, with her hair loose, no glasses to hide the luminous depths of her eyes, a pair of denims that fitted snugly to—

      ‘Well?’ Marcus snapped harshly, tapping his fingers impatiently on his desk top as he continued to wait for an explanation for her intrusion after he had explicitly told her he didn’t want to be disturbed.

      At the same time completely bursting Kit’s bubble of illusion where, as in Hollywood movies, Marcus saw her change from a moth into a butterfly and instantly fell in love with the way she really looked. A fairy tale!

      She straightened. ‘Miss Revel would like to see you,’ she told him briskly.

      ‘When?’

      ‘Now. She’s waiting outside in my office,’ she explained as he continued to scowl.

      His brow cleared. ‘Then why didn’t you tell me that when you first came in?’ He stood up to move impatiently around her and open the inter-office door himself. ‘Come in, Andrea,’ he invited. ‘I was going to call you in a few minutes anyway; I have something I need to discuss with you.’

      Kit stiffened as the other woman gave her a triumphant look in passing, her hands closing at her sides, her jaw clenching. Andrea deliberately went to link her arm with Marcus’s, before standing on tiptoe to kiss him lingeringly on the mouth.

      Kit felt her stomach turn as Marcus bent his head with the intention of returning the kiss, quickly turning on her heel and leaving the room, closing the door behind her to lean weakly back against it.

      So much for Angie Dwyer’s warning!

      Kit had known by the end of the first week of working with Marcus that she was deeply attracted to him. Not the cleverest thing she had ever done in her life, but probably not the worst either. After all, Marcus had no idea how she felt, so at least her pride was still intact. It was only her heart that went AWOL every time she looked at him!

      Only…!

      She gave a self-deriding shake of her head as she moved back to sit behind her desk. It was probably as well that she could laugh at her own stupidity, because over the last six months Andrea Revel was the third woman Kit had seen Marcus get involved with—and they had all, without exception, been aged in their mid-thirties, petite, blonde, and curvaceously feminine—not twenty-six, tall and slim, with red hair.

      In other words, even without the severe hairstyle, no make-up, and the shapeless business suits she wore, she just wasn’t Marcus Maitland’s type. It was—

      ‘Give me a call when you get back,’ Andrea Revel snapped as she suddenly stormed out of the inner office. ‘I may decide to see you again—but then, I may have something else more important to do!’ she ended before slamming the door behind her. Her face was an ugly, angry mask as she leant over Kit’s desk to thrust it inches away from Kit’s. ‘You think you’re so clever, don’t you?’ she hissed furiously as Kit could only blink her surprise at the attack. ‘But we’ll see who has the last laugh,’ she scorned as she straightened and, with one last flounce of her rich blonde hair, swayed provocatively from the room.

      Now what on earth had all that been about? Kit wondered dazedly as she watched her leave, slightly shaken by the vehemence behind the woman.

      The door to Marcus’s office opened again, gently this time. He stood framed in the doorway. ‘Has she gone?’ he enquired.

      ‘Are you referring to Miss Revel?’ Kit prompted innocently.

      His gaze narrowed as he looked at her assessingly, a smile tugging at the corners of that sensuously curved mouth. ‘Yes, I’m referring to Miss Revel,’ he confirmed dryly, his earlier fury seeming to have abated as his normal good humour asserted itself.

      Kit