The Boss's Valentine. Lynne Graham

her skin clammy.

      ‘Now who do we all know who wears jasmine scent?’ Craig murmured.

      ‘I don’t know anyone who wears that,’ Lesley chimed in, and the two other women followed her lead to say the exact same. Painfully conscious that her companions were trying to throw sand in Craig’s eyes and deflect him from his target, Poppy had to grit her teeth to prevent herself from lifting her drink and throwing it at her tormentor.

      At the other side of the room, Jenna was still in full confiding mode, but Santino was having a hard time dragging his brooding scrutiny from his PA’s smug expression and Poppy’s pale, rigid face.

      ‘So, I hope you’ll forgive me for giving you a rough time tonight,’ Jenna murmured in dulcet continuation, ‘but I always promised myself that some day I would tell you the truth and make you sweat for a few minutes. Will you still come to my engagement party?’

      Taken aback, Santino frowned. ‘Engagement party?’

      ‘I’m so grateful I’m not in love with you any more.’ Jenna sighed. ‘Didn’t you hear me telling you that I’m getting engaged to David Marsh and that he’s picking me up here in five minutes?’

      It had been a long time since Santino had heard that much good news in one sentence; he was genuinely fond of Jenna and relief on his own behalf and pleasure on her behalf sliced through his growing tension. Realising that the blonde had merely been set on claiming a small slice of revenge for his past indifference to her, he flung back his handsome dark head and started to laugh with genuine appreciation.

      The sight of Santino splitting his sides with laughter, and Jenna equally convulsed and holding onto him for support, filled Poppy with paranoia. Immediately, she assumed that Santino had told the blonde about her pathetic card and that they were laughing at her, for if Craig had guessed that she was the culprit he was certain to have told Santino. Feeling as if she had just had her heart ripped out while she was still breathing, Poppy nonetheless rose from her seat with as much dignity as she could muster, for she could not bear sitting there playing poor little victim for Craig’s benefit any longer.

      ‘You’re a real Sherlock Holmes, Craig,’ she said flatly. ‘I’m very impressed.’

      Poppy walked away fast. Tears were stinging her eyes and blurring her vision, but she kept her head high and that was her final undoing. She didn’t see the small table laden with drinks in her path. She hit it with such force that the table tipped over with an enormous crash that seemed to turn every head in the room. For an instant, Poppy hovered, staring in horror at the smashed glass and liquid everywhere, not to mention the startled dancers leaping back from the mess she had created. Then her control just snapped and she fled.

      ‘Now,’ Lesley said icily to Craig, who was sniggering at Poppy’s noisy exit, ‘while you’re wondering why Poppy’s friends aren’t rushing after her to offer support, watch Santino and learn…’

      ‘What are you talking about?’

      ‘Upsetting Poppy is not a career-enhancing move in Aragone Systems. You see, if you were a woman and in touch with the real newsbreaking gossip in this building, you would already know that Santino fancies the socks off Poppy, too—’

      ‘Rubbish!’ Craig snapped. ‘He binned the card!’

      ‘Did you check the bin at the end of the day?’ someone enquired drily.

      ‘Santino doesn’t know what’s hit him yet,’ one of the other women commented with immense superiority. ‘He’s more at home with his keyboard than his emotions.’

      ‘But when a bloke like Santino, who likes everything done by the book, starts telling poor Desmond that pink graphs are fresh and creative, he’s in very deep,’ Lesley completed.

      In companionable and expectant silence, the three women then focused pointedly on Santino, who had stridden forward the instant that Poppy had sent the table flying. He swung round to speak to Jenna Delsen and not thirty seconds later left in the same direction as Poppy. Witnessing that demonstration, Craig turned the greyish colour of putty and groaned out loud.