Back In The Boss's Bed. Sharon Kendrick

she objected.

      ‘Are you going to answer my question or not, Kiloran?’ he snapped, and the grey eyes glittered like a winter sea. ‘I asked you what he looked like.’

      Bizarrely, she felt like throwing something at him and waltzing straight out of the boardroom, as if she were some reactive, emotional child. But she was not a child, and she did not have the luxury of being able to act on her emotions. She took a deep, steadying breath instead.

      ‘He was tall.’

      ‘You could be a little more specific than that?’ he drawled. ‘How tall?’

      To her absolute horror, she heard herself saying, ‘Not as tall as you.’

      He gave a cynical smile. ‘Not many men are,’ he said, matter-of-factly. ‘Again, specifics might be a little bit more helpful.’

      She ran her tongue over her lips. ‘Just over six feet, I guess.’ He was still waiting. ‘Fair hair. Blue eyes…’ Her voice tailed off.

      ‘Go on,’ he urged obscurely. ‘Was he in good shape?’

      She only just prevented herself from saying, Not compared to you, but thank God she bit that back in time. Instead, she shrugged, as if she hadn’t given it much thought at all—which in truth she hadn’t. ‘He was okay. He drank a little too much beer, but a lot of men do.’

      ‘Did you find him attractive, Kiloran?’

      She stared at him. ‘What did you say?’

      ‘You heard. Did you?’

      ‘No, of course I didn’t! Why on earth should you ask me something as outrageous and insulting as that?’

      ‘There’s no “of course” about it,’ he stated flatly. ‘And neither is it outrageous or insulting. Human nature is very predictable and it’s a classic scenario, I’m afraid. A man flatters a woman into thinking he’s in love with her. And suddenly she’s putty in his hands. Is that what happened, Kiloran? Did he seduce you? Ply you with pretty words and compliments? Maybe even take you to bed? Were you willing to put everything in his hands without bothering to check it out? Because that’s what sometimes happens when a woman is in thrall of her lover.’

      The crude way in which he was talking was having the most disastrous consequences. She could feel her palms growing wet and sticky as he purred out things like ‘take you to his bed’. Was that why her heart was racing, because she was imagining him taking her to bed? She got to her feet and deliberately looked right down her nose at him. ‘I don’t have to listen to another word of this!’

      ‘Sit down!’

      ‘No, I won’t sit down!’ She stayed standing, the position of being able to look down on him giving her a brief feeling of superiority. ‘Does my grandfather know the kind of interrogation you’re subjecting me to?’ she demanded coolly. ‘Do you think he would stand for it?’

      ‘Go ahead—ask him.’ He shrugged.

      ‘I don’t think you’d like that for a moment, Mr Black. He’d have you out of here so fast you’d—’

      ‘I don’t think so,’ he interrupted icily. ‘He gave me a free rein and I intend using it.’ But his words conjured up uncomfortably provocative images involving Kiloran on horseback, wearing a tight pair of jodhpurs, and he pushed them away with an almighty effort. ‘I need to know whether you let your emotions cloud your judgement, that’s all, Kiloran.’

      She was about to blurt out that she never let emotions cloud her judgement, until she realised that she would be completely contradicting herself. She didn’t blurt. She didn’t react. She was calm and cool—so what the hell was happening to her? Quite the opposite. From the moment he had walked in here she had done nothing but react. To him. And it was time she stopped.

      She sat down again, all the fire taken out of her, sucking in a deep breath and hoping it would steady her racing heart. ‘For your information, no—I did not find him attractive.’

      ‘Charming?’

      ‘He was not without charm, no,’ she admitted carefully.

      ‘Good-looking?’

      He was being so persistent! Eddie Peterhouse had regular features and had dressed in handmade Italian clothes, cleverly cut to disguise the slight swell of his beer-belly, but compared to Adam Black…‘Not particularly.’

      He twisted a slim gold pen between long, slim fingers. ‘So what would you say was the most overriding characteristic he possessed?’

      She wanted to be truthful, even though her instincts baulked at having to tell this man anything! ‘He seemed to know what he was doing. He exuded confidence.’

      That figured. ‘Con men always do. That’s why people believe their lies and their evasion.’

      ‘Do you put everyone in a snug little compartment?’

      ‘Human nature being what it is, I usually find it works.’

      How cold he sounded—more like a computer than a man. She wondered what compartment he had put her in, and then decided she would rather not think about it.

      She gave him what she hoped was a calm and pleasant smile. ‘Isn’t wondering just why it all happened a bit of a waste of time?’ she queried. ‘What’s done is done—surely what we need to do now is to rectify it?’

      At last, he thought. A little common sense instead of the impenetrable maze of feminine logic! ‘Yes.’ The gleam from his grey eyes was one of challenge. ‘Think you’re up to it, Kiloran? It’s going to be a lot of hard work.’

      ‘I’ve never shirked from hard work.’

      Looking at her, he doubted it. She looked as if nothing had troubled her more in her life than what moisturiser to use on that porcelain skin of hers. Or which item of clothing she was going to cover that delectable body with. ‘I’m pleased to hear it. And the sooner we get started the better. I’ll be back first thing on Monday morning.’

      He began to collect the papers which lay on the desk in front of him, signalling, thought Kiloran, that the interview was at an end! He had grilled her, while she was left feeling as though she knew precisely nothing about the man who would now effectively be her boss! Just who was Adam Black?

      ‘You come from round here, don’t you?’ she asked casually.

      In the act of putting the papers into his briefcase, Adam paused, his eyes narrowing.

      ‘That’s right.’ He wondered how much she knew and how much her grandfather had told her. And then asked himself did he really care what a spoilt little rich girl thought about him?

      ‘Have you still got family living locally?’ Kiloran persisted.

      ‘Not any more,’ he answered, but there was mockery in his eyes now as he enjoyed her feeling of powerlessness—that the man who would temporarily be calling the shots could just please himself. He gave a quick glance at his watch. ‘I’m afraid I really do have to move.’

      Leaving Kiloran feeling like someone with nowhere to go. She watched as he ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair and gave her a swift and not particularly friendly smile.

      ‘I’ll see you first thing on Monday,’ he said. ‘Goodbye, Kiloran.’