Bargaining With The Boss (Harlequin Romance) Page 9

  Eleri didn’t trouble to deny it, because his nearness was affecting her so badly she was afraid to trust her voice. James’s eyes fell to the sudden, hurried rise and fall of her breasts beneath her red silk shirt, and with a smothered groan he pulled her into his arms and kissed her hungrily, giving her no time to fight back the response which ran through her like a tidal wave, as all-consuming as before. She gasped, her lips parting to kisses which quickly grew fevered, and he hauled her onto his lap and held her so tightly she couldn’t move. Not that she wanted to. Eleri would have been happy to stay where she was indefinitely, returning his kisses with fervour, but soon she felt his deft, practised fingers begin to undo her shirt and she stiffened. He locked both arms around her and stifled her wordless protest with a kiss which left them breathless and shaking when he raised his head, his eyes glittering with urgency.

  ‘Come to bed,’ he whispered, and for the second time in as many days Eleri came back to earth with a bump.

  She pushed him away and shot to her feet, her face averted, tidying herself with unsteady hands as she listened to the slowing rasp of James’s breathing.

  ‘Eleri,’ he said gruffly at last. ‘Look at me.’

  She turned reluctantly, and he raked a hand through his hair, eyeing her warily. ‘What can I say? I didn’t mean that to happen.’

  ‘Let’s forget it ever did,’ she said tightly, her eyes stormy. ‘It’s my fault. I should have left you to get on with your flu as best you could. I obviously sent out the wrong signals.’

  He caught one of her hands in his, tightening it when she tried to pull it away. ‘No. You didn’t. You took care of me because you’re warm and compassionate. I was a stupid fool to take advantage of it.’ He smiled wryly. ‘Don’t blame me too much, Eleri. You don’t seem to know just how desirable you are—I’m only human.’

  Eleri detached her hand and put on her coat quickly, before he had the chance to hold it for her. He wasn’t entirely to blame, she knew. If she’d frozen him off at once the incident would have been all over before it started. ‘As I said before,’ she said tightly, ‘let’s forget it.’

  ‘Easier said than done.’ James stood very erect, his mouth set as he looked down at her. ‘Does this mean you’ll change your mind about coming back to work with me?’

  Eleri regarded him analytically for a moment or two. ‘No. I’m not high-minded enough to give up a job I like over a—a trivial incident like this.’

  James’s eyes narrowed dangerously for a moment. He breathed in deeply. ‘Right. Then you’ll start back next Monday?’

  ‘Yes.’ Fatigue suddenly overwhelmed her. ‘Goodnight.’

  ‘You’re exhausted,’ he said grimly. ‘Eleri—’ He stopped short, shrugging impatiently. ‘Whatever I say at this point will only make things worse. So goodnight, Eleri. Drive carefully.’

  Far from feeling angry with James over his lovemaking, Eleri felt rather pleased with life as she drove home, apart from a slight headache. When she got to the house she made hot drinks for herself and Nico, then told him she was off to bed early for once with a book, eager to get there before her parents came home.

  He eyed her narrowly. ‘You look a bit seedy, El.’

  ‘I’m just tired. I need some sleep. And you do too, by the way. Don’t be long.’

  Upstairs Eleri swallowed a couple of painkillers, drank her hot milk, then climbed into bed to surrender to thoughts of James’s kisses and the feelings he’d aroused in her. She’d wanted James to make love to her—so badly, in fact, that she’d almost given in—but not in such a casual way, arising out of the sheer propinquity of the past few days. If—when—she took a lover for real, she would require some romance about it: flowers and music, protestations of love over a candlelit dinner, even. And why not? It was no more than a clever, efficient, and—according to James—desirable female like herself deserved. One, moreover, who was going back to independence and the job she loved. Eleri fell asleep smiling, only to wake in the small hours with a fit of sneezing. By next morning it was painfully obvious that she was unfit to serve the public.

  ‘I knew it,’ raged her father. ‘You wear yourself out looking after this man Kincaid, and now you are ill too.’

  ‘I’ve got a cold, Pa,’ she said thickly. ‘Half the population of Pennington’s got a cold. And quite a lot of them come into the coffee-shop.’

  ‘Straight back to bed,’ ordered her mother.

  ‘But I haven’t got flu,’ protested Eleri.

  ‘No. You’ve got a messy old cold. And if you stay in bed today you’ll get rid of it all the faster,’ said Catrin firmly. ‘I’ll go over the road to do the ordering, then I’ll pop up to see you. Your father can supervise Gianni today.’

  Eleri acquiesced gratefully, filled a hot water bottle, made herself a mug of tea, commandeered the mobile phone and went back upstairs to enjoy the unexpected pleasure of being tucked up in a warm bed instead of ministering to the public in the coffee-shop. Halfway through the morning the phone rang.

  ‘Eleri?’ said James. ‘They told me at the coffee-shop you were ill. What’s the matter? You’ve caught my bug, of course. I knew this would happen!’

  ‘I’ve got a cold,’ she contradicted him. ‘A messy, unsightly cold in the head. Not flu.’

  ‘Are you in bed?’

  ‘Yes. Complete with hot water bottle, radio and gruesome thriller.’

  ‘Ah. Enjoying ill health?’

  ‘Right.’

  He coughed a little, the cause embarrassment, she decided, rather than respiratory. ‘I rang to apologise again for last night.’

  ‘No need,’ she assured him airily. ‘I’ve forgotten all about it.’

  ‘How fortunate for you,’ he snapped. ‘And in case you’re worried about my eating arrangements this evening, Camilla’s coming down from London.’

  Eleri scowled, unseen. ‘I wasn’t. Worried, I mean. But I’m glad you’re being taken care of.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said distantly. ‘I hope you feel better soon.’

  ‘It’s only a cold. I’ll be fit by Monday.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant.’

  Eleri interrupted him with a huge, explosive sneeze, which gave her the excuse to bid him a swift goodbye. So. Camilla was back on the scene. Eleri couldn’t help hoping James was still contagious. She spent a pleasant moment or two visualising a feverish, germ-laden Camilla with lank hair and hollow eyes, then gave herself a stringent lecture on her lack of charity, reminding herself that when she faced James across his desk next Monday, both of them would revert automatically to their right and proper places. And stay in them.

  Eleri decided she deserved the luxury of an entire day in bed, warning her family to steer clear. Catrin chose to ignore this at lunchtime, declaring that her daughter needed nourishment.

  ‘Feed a cold and starve a fever,’ she said firmly, and put a tray over Eleri’s knees. ‘Zuppa di funghi—only I had to make the soup with tame mushrooms, not wild ones. I’ve grated a bit of cheese on top.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Eleri appreciatively. ‘I’m starving. Don’t come too near.’

  Catrin retreated to the door obediently. ‘Were you supposed to go round to Mr Kincaid tonight?’

  Eleri shook her head. ‘No. I’m not seeing him until next Monday at Northwold.’

  ‘Just as well, looking like that. Anything else you fancy, love?’

  ‘No, thanks, this is fine. Don’t come up again. I’ll have a little nap after lunch.’

  Eleri got up next day, no longer sneezing, but grateful when she was ordered to stay at home and take care of herself.

  Mid-morning, James rang again. ‘How are you, Eleri?’

  ‘Better, thanks. And you?’

  ‘Almost back to normal. Boredom is my main complaint at the moment.’

  Boredom? With the fair Camilla on hand?

  ‘I rang to make sure you weren’t intending to come round tonight,’ he went on.

  ‘I wasn’t,’ she ass
ured him breezily. Did the man think he could alternate her with Camilla?

  ‘I meant,’ said James harshly, ‘that much as I would like to see you tonight I’d rather you took care of yourself and got well quickly.’

  ‘It’s very kind of you to be so concerned. Thank you. By the way, do they know at Northwold that I’m coming back, or should I be notifying anyone?’

  ‘I’ve told Bruce to inform Personnel. He was very pleased, by the way.’

  ‘How nice of him. I’ll see you next Monday at the plant, then.’

  ‘Not before?’ he said sharply.

  ‘No, James. The last thing you need is my cold. Take care of yourself. Bye.’

  Eleri put down the phone, feeling rather pleased with herself. She felt even more so at lunchtime, when an exquisite hand-tied bouquet of spring flowers arrived for her, with a simple message of thanks from James.

  ‘Goodness, they’re lovely!’ said her mother. ‘What a nice thought.’ She glanced at her daughter narrowly. ‘You look rather smug, cariad.’

  Eleri grinned. ‘I don’t get bouquets of flowers every day of the week.’

  ‘If your cold’s better by the weekend why not go up to stay with Vicky for a day or two?’

  ‘Can’t. She’s off to the sun on Saturday. Don’t worry, Ma. I’ll be fine.’

  Catrin smoothed her daughter’s hair with a gentle hand. ‘I know you will. But no coming back to the coffee-shop. Have a little break before you go back to Northwold.’

  When Eleri parked her car in her usual place at Northwold the following Monday, it was as though she’d never been away—but with one slight difference. She timed her arrival to coincide with the rest of the office staff. As she’d hoped, Bruce Gordon and a couple of the other managers were in with James when she passed his door. She was greeted with a general chorus of welcome from all four men, and resumed her place at her desk a little later with a pleasurable feeling of homecoming.

  The other female members of staff in the administration block had all expressed their pleasure in her return, she had completely recovered from her cold, and she was wearing her favourite black suit. When James buzzed for her at last, Eleri felt reasonably composed, despite the familiar, hard scrutiny trained on her as she approached his desk. He rose, looking a little drawn and dark under the eyes, but otherwise much the same as usual.

  ‘Good morning, Eleri, welcome back,’ he said crisply. ‘You look well, so I take it you’re fully recovered.’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Mr Kincaid.’ She smiled pleasantly. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Not exactly one hundred percent yet, but I’m getting there. You were late this morning,’ he added.

  ‘No. Not late. I merely arrived at the same time as’ the others.’

  His jaw tightened. ‘To avoid being alone with me?’

  ‘It seemed best.’ She looked at him enquiringly. ‘Are you ready to start work now, or would you like some coffee first?’

  ‘Bring your chair over, please, Eleri. Before we start work there are one or two things I want to say.’

  She sat down in her usual place, but James put his hands on the desk and leaned forward, his eyes boring into hers.

  ‘When you left so precipitately, we had worked together for twelve months—’

  ‘Thirteen, actually.’

  ‘Right. In that time we established a reasonable working relationship. Do you agree?’

  Eleri nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘But since then we’ve come to know each other rather better.’ His eyes gleamed coldly. ‘And by your attitude it’s obvious you think I’ll take advantage of the fact.’

  ‘Of course I don’t,’ said Eleri, her face pink. ‘It was the other way round.’

  James sat down, frowning. ‘You actually thought I’d suspect you of getting too familiar? Is that why I’m Mr Kincaid again, instead of James?’

  ‘You’re the MD. I’m your assistant. The formality is necessary,’ she said firmly.

  ‘Eleri,’ he said, his voice ultra-dry, ‘just because I stepped out of line once doesn’t mean I’m likely to take advantage of the fact now I’ve managed to get you back to work for me. I wouldn’t dare in case you walked out again.’

  She smiled involuntarily, and James nodded in approval.

  ‘That’s better. Thank you for your note.’

  ‘Thank you for the flowers.’

  ‘I would have preferred a telephone call.’

  ‘I was brought up to write thank-you letters,’ she said lightly, and cast a meaningful eye over the pile of paperwork on his desk.

  ‘All right, all right,’ he said irritably. ‘Let’s make a start.’

  The brief exchange cleared the air to a certain extent; Eleri was satisfied that certain lines had been drawn. Lines she had no intention of crossing over to return to the unintentional intimacy created by James’s illness. While he was briefly dependent on her he’d begun to look on her as more than just a paragon of efficiency. Which was dangerous. A relationship with James Kincaid was out of the question for several reasons, not least because she cared for him too much. With James it would be all or nothing, not the uninvolving type of friendship she had enjoyed with Toby.

  After the first few days back at Northwold, Eleri not only felt as though she’d never been away but that the interlude at Chester Gardens had never occurred. Which, she conceded, was entirely her own fault. James had made it plain he would have preferred things on a less formal footing once they were back at Northwold together. To avoid this Eleri kept to a purely professional attitude. And by the end of the first week, after a few false starts on James’s part, the arrangement was working well. Exactly as she wanted. So why, she asked herself irritably, didn’t she feel happier about it?

  Eleri had been back at Northwold for three weeks when her father asked if she would lend a hand in the trattoria one Saturday night.

  ‘Not to wait on tables, cara, but if you would take the money and see to the drinks it would help. Luigi is on holiday and Dario’s ill. Your mother and I are needed in the kitchen.’

  ‘Of course I’ll help.’

  By seven that evening Eleri was behind the little bar in the trattoria, wearing the black jersey tunic and skirt she’d worn to dinner with James, heavy gold rings in her ears, and her hair caught back at one side with a black velvet clasp. Saturday nights were always busy, and from the first she was kept fully occupied.

  The rush had reached its climax, and begun to subside a little, when a new pair of arrivals came to the bar. Eleri looked up with a smile which congealed abruptly at the sight of James Kincaid. With companion.

  ‘Good evening, Eleri,’ said James, his eyes gleaming. ‘I know it’s a bit late, but would you have a table for two?’

  ‘Good evening,’ she said mechanically, fighting to keep her smile in place. James’s dinner guest was a very pretty redhead she’d never seen before. Not even Camilla, she thought savagely, and came out from behind the bar to direct James and his companion to the corner table which looked out on the floodlit beauty of St Mark’s church by night.

  As they seated themselves Eleri handed out two large menus and asked their requirements for drinks.

  James waved a hand. ‘Venetia Dawson, Eleri Conti. Eleri’s my personal assistant at Northwold,’ he added to his companion.

  ‘Really!’ said the girl, astonished. ‘You work here as well?’

  ‘Normally, no. My father owns the trattoria,’ said Eleri. ‘We’re suffering from staff shortages tonight, so I’m lending a hand.’

  ‘For which I’m sure your father’s very grateful. Eleri’s alarmingly efficient at everything she does,’ added James to his partner, poker-faced. ‘Sometimes I think she’s after my job at Northwold.’

  The girl laughed. ‘And why not, James?’

  Why not, indeed? thought Eleri, and smiled serenely. ‘If you’ll tell me what you’d like in the way of drinks I’ll have someone bring them over.’

  ‘A glass of white wine and a Scotch a
nd soda,’ said James, and looked up into Eleri’s face. ‘Do have one yourself,’ he said softly.

  ‘I won’t, thanks, not while I’m on duty.’ She went back to the bar with murder in her heart. She poured the drinks, summoned one of the waiters and handed them over to him, then turned to a customer waiting to pay. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting, sir,’ she said, with such a radiant smile the man assured her he was in no hurry at all.

  Fate was unkind, she thought bitterly as the evening wore on. James must have come out on spec for a meal, seen her at the bar in the trattoria and decided to parade his new girlfriend in front of her. There were eating places enough in Pennington without coming to the Trattoria Veneto, damn the man.

  The restaurant was nearly empty by the time James and his companion got up to leave. While the lady went along to the cloakroom James presented the bill and a credit card to Eleri at the bar.

  ‘It was a splendid meal. My compliments to the chef,’ he said, smiling, as she put the card through.

  ‘I’ll tell my father. He’ll be gratified.’

  James looked slightly discomfited. ‘I thought he’d retired from actual cooking these days.’

  ‘He has, but two of our chefs are off, so my parents pitched in tonight.’ Eleri smiled as she handed him a pen to sign the credit card slip. ‘I only hope they’re on speaking terms by this time.’ Her eyes slid past him as Venetia came into view. ‘Thank you so much for your patronage,’ she said deliberately. ‘Goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight, Eleri. See you on Monday.’

  When the restaurant was closed Eleri went back to the house while her parents finished up.

  ‘Oh, boy,’ said Nico, tearing himself away from Match of the Day. ‘Was it that bad?’

  ‘No. I don’t mind lending a hand.’

  ‘So what’s up?’

  ‘James Kincaid came in for a meal.’

  Nico eyed her warily. ‘On his own?’

  ‘No. With a drop-dead gorgeous redhead—stop laughing or I’ll hit you!’

  He threw up his hands, guffawing, then sobered. ‘He fancies you rotten, just the same, El.’ He patted his nose with a forefinger. ‘Men know these things.’