On the Secretary's Christmas List. Кэрол Мортимер

only you, me and your housekeeper for company.’

      ‘Thanks!’ Jackson grimaced.

      ‘I did include myself in that number,’ she pointed out wryly.

      ‘So you did.’ Jackson gazed down at the puppy Bree still held in her arms. There was no doubt it was a cute little thing: grey-blue eyes, a black button nose, and that soft, curly grey, black and white fur …

      ‘No, it’s impossible.’ Jackson straightened determinedly away from the lure of all that cuteness. ‘I’ll go and call my mother—and if you won’t do it I’ll have to make other arrangements to take the puppy back to the breeder.’

      ‘How can you be so cruel?’ Bree glared up at him.

      ‘Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.’ He sighed as she continued to glare. ‘Dogs are a tie, Bree. A serious complication when it comes to going away on holiday—or even out for the day. And what about Danny’s reaction when it eventually dies? A breed like that will live—what?—ten, twelve years at most? By which time Danny will be—’

      ‘Sixteen or eighteen years old, and perfectly capable of understanding and accepting that death is merely a part of life,’ she assured him firmly. ‘Especially when he’s enjoyed ten or twelve years of companionship and unconditional love!’

      Unconditional love, Jackson mused. Now, there was a concept not too many adults understood. Well, not the adults Jackson came into contact with anyway.

      Over the years he had found that everyone had their own agenda. Wealth. Success. Stardom. Whatever they believed would give them the happiness they craved. Well, Jackson had all three of those things, and yet he hadn’t known even a glimmer of real happiness until Danny had come into his life five years ago. Because Danny gave him that unconditional love Bree was talking about? Probably. But, damn it, a puppy …? Did he really have to let Danny keep the damned puppy?

      ‘He really won’t be any trouble,’ Bree persevered eagerly, sensing a weakening in Jackson’s resolve. The ‘D’ word had once again worked its magic charm on him. ‘Your mother also brought a basket for the puppy to sleep in, and lots of food, and bowls, and brushes for grooming him—’

      ‘Okay, okay, okay!’ Jackson’s voice rose in volume with each successive ‘okay’. ‘But the first time he gets into my camera equipment he’s banished outside to the garden shed.’

      ‘Woo-hoo! You’re being allowed to stay, puppy!’ Bree held the furry bundle up in the air.

      Jackson watched in total surprise as his usually calm and unruffled assistant did a little victory dance around the sitting room. He felt completely taken aback by Bree’s obvious happiness and the way it lit up her face, making her look almost beautiful: those smoky-grey eyes glowed, her cheeks were flushed, and her lips curved into a wide and happy smile. They were full and slightly pouty lips, he realised with a frown. The sort of lips that could drive a man crazy if applied to the right part of his anatomy …

      ‘Isn’t it time you got back to work?’ Jackson rasped harshly as he straightened abruptly to glare down at her.

      Bree came to an abrupt halt, the light fading from her eyes, the colour fading from her cheeks, and those sensual lips no longer smiling but once again set in their usual line of disapproval.

      Jackson could deal with Bree’s disapproval—hell, he was happy to deal with her disapproval! What he didn’t need, didn’t want to deal with, was that inexplicable, insidious physical awareness he had felt towards her just now …

      ‘I’m going to get Danny from school,’ he glowered.

      ‘Fine.’ She nodded dismissively, no longer looking at him but at the puppy held comfortably in her arms.

      No, it wasn’t ‘fine’ at all, Jackson thought to himself, frowning as he walked slowly outside to his car.

      Bree had worked for him for almost a year. Lived in his house. Spent time with his son. She wasn’t just good at her job, she blended perfectly into his life—organising his appointments, taking his clothes to be laundered, deciding on the menus for the week with the housekeeper, Mrs Holmes, looking after Danny when Jackson had to be elsewhere. It was like having a wife without any of the complications. Or the sex, of course—

      Where the hell had that thought come from?

      Wherever it had originated, it could go right back there again. It would ruin everything if he even started to think of Bree in a sexual way!

      In fact over the past year Jackson had made a point of never seeing or treating Bree as anything more than his assistant and occasionally Danny’s babysitter.

      To the extent, he now realised, that he had never even bothered to enquire about her private life before she came to work for him. He had likewise had no reason to enquire about it during the past year: to his certain knowledge Bree didn’t have a private life now. She never went out in the evenings. If she had family and friends she never invited them to her apartment.

      Moments ago, when she had danced so spontaneously around the sitting room with the puppy in her arms—when she had looked so nearly beautiful—for the first time Jackson had found himself wondering exactly why that was …