From Prim to Improper

by Cathy Williams

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of issuing an offer like that to anyone else who worked with me. In fact, it’s a personal rule of mine never to mix business with pleasure.’

  ‘And it’s a brilliant one. Inter-office relationships muddy the waters.’

  ‘Are you speaking from experience?’

  ‘Only as a spectator.’

  ‘I don’t think you understand. The fact that I’m willing to make you the exception to my rule should be viewed as the highest compliment.’

  It had been viewed with a shake of her head, the slow purr of her computer being switched on and that prim crossing of her legs which did crazy things to his libido.

  It was damned frustrating. Was it any wonder that he was constantly distracted? For the first time, his work was taking second place. He didn’t like it, but sleeping with her had unearthed a vein of stubbornness that he hadn’t noticed in her before. He had had to fall in with her ridiculous rules and regulations about keeping their work-space sacrosanct.

  Was it some sort of wily game she was playing? Was she stringing him along because she thought it would be the fastest way of keeping him interested? Was she a cunning gold-digger who had now dropped his godfather off her hit list so that she could focus her attentions on him instead? He couldn’t have cared less. His plans to uncover whatever she was or wasn’t hiding from him had been derailed and frankly ambushed by a raging, uncontrollable lust that seemed to have become his twenty-four-hour companion.

  Now, when she should have been feeling the same way, when she should have been angling to spend every conceivable moment in his company, even if only to experience the frisson of being in the same room as him during their allotted work-time, she strolled in nearly an hour late.

  Andreas scowled.

  ‘Sorry.’ Elizabeth smiled apologetically as she pulled out her chair and settled into it.

  It was getting harder and harder to split herself in two—the wild, abandoned, uninhibited lover late at night when the rest of the world was asleep, and the professional by day, keeping him at arm’s length. Ignoring the subtle but invasive ways he had of making his formidable presence known by brushing her arm when he leant over her to explain something, or looking at her with brooding, greedy eyes as she sat there with her notepad on her lap jotting down points, numbers and figures; his mind never seemed to stop working even when his body language was signalling something else.

  He wanted her, and he wanted to be able to have her at the click of his imperious fingers. It was a situation Elizabeth knew was dangerous and unhealthy. She was already way out of her depth. Keeping a bit of distance was vital.

  But, on the plus side, she had at least made one very important decision that had lessened some of the weight on her shoulders. She had more or less put on permanent hold the notion of telling James who she was. She could see no advantage in it and many, many disadvantages. If James was in the slightest bit protective of his wealth—and he surely must be, because all wealthy people were to some extent—then there was always the chance that he might think along the same lines as Andreas undoubtedly had: that she had descended into his household and befriended him because there had been something in it for her.

  Would he believe it if she told him that she had only recently discovered his place in her life? Wouldn’t he be inclined to be suspicious of her motives, considering she had not disclosed her identity immediately, had not thought to make initial contact via a letter? At least then she’d have given him the option of refusal.

  Certainly, the firm foundation of their affection and friendship would be eroded by the revelation. How could it not be? And there was no way that she was prepared to jeopardise what they had, even if it meant keeping silent. When the time came for her to find alternative employment, she would find it close by so that she could continue visiting him and having him in her life. She would be his daughter in everything but name.

  And what she now had with Andreas was even more of a reason to keep silent, although when she tried to disentangle her thoughts on that one, so that she could make sense of them, she could feel herself getting muddled and lost. It was like walking through a leafy archway only to discover that the bower led to a maze with frightening side-shoots and confusing, scary dead-ends.

  It seemed safer to avoid the leafy archway, and she did that by keeping their sexual adventures completely separate from their working relationship. Holding him at bay afforded her an opportunity of control, which she badly needed. If she didn’t take it he would walk all over her, taking what he wanted, and then dropping her from a great height the second he became bored. It seemed important to protect herself against when that time came. She just couldn’t afford to let him see how deeply involved she was, how her emotions were all over the place. She was in free fall—and exposing her real identity… Well, what was worse than free fall? She couldn’t think, but she knew how she could buy a first-class ticket there, and it would involve baring her soul, telling him who she really was and why she had made the move to Somerset to be with James.

  She surfaced from her thoughts to find that he had covered the distance across the office to perch on the side of her desk, swamping her with his suffocating, addictive presence.

  ‘Since you’re the one who is so hell-bent on keeping our lives compartmentalised, then you won’t be offended when I tell you that traipsing in whenever you feel like it isn’t the professional approach I’m paying you for.’

  ‘That’s hardly fair!’

  ‘“Hardly fair” is your hands-off policy during working hours. Why are you late?’

  ‘I was with James’s nutritionist. We were trying to devise salt-free, tempting options for him because he’s been complaining about the blandness of his food.’ She didn’t raise her eyes above thigh level, but even the sight of that straining fabric only inches away from her arm made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Memory was certainly a fickle friend. Right now she could have done without the memory of Andreas last night, with the silver moonlight washing through the windows of his bedroom silhouetting his perfect body as it moved against hers, straining as he took them to a climax that had left her half-sobbing.

  ‘Thrilling. Did you come up with anything?’ His sharp eyes hadn’t missed the nervous way her pink tongue flicked out to lick her lips or the way her breathing had quickened.

  ‘One or two interesting ideas. To be honest, the time just sort of ran away, hence I’m a few minutes late.’

  ‘Forty-five.’

  ‘But I made sure that the Matheson stuff you asked me to do was all emailed to you.’

  ‘When did you get round to doing that?’ He swung himself away from the desk and sauntered back to his own chair. ‘When I left you, you didn’t seem in any fit state to start compiling figures.’ He shot her a wolfish smile, and her stomach flipped over as she weakly yielded to staring at his darkly charismatic face.

  ‘I couldn’t sleep,’ she managed a little breathlessly. Her mind had been too busy, not least with the depressing thought of how deeply involved she had become with Andreas and the dire consequences it held for her. Working had been her feeble attempt to divert her brain from its one-track ruminations.

  ‘So you decided to work? I hope I’m not rubbing off on you,’ he drawled. ‘I do recall you have strong feelings about workaholics.’

  Elizabeth looked at him reproachfully over the top of her computer and he grinned back at her. His black mood had disappeared; it pleased him to think that she hadn’t been able to sleep because he had been on her mind. It was a place he was more than happy to occupy.

  ‘There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.’

  ‘Oh yes? Is it concerning work?’

  ‘Of course it’s concerning work,’ Andreas said irritably. ‘You’ve made it more than clear that that’s the only to
pic of conversation permitted within the hallowed walls of this makeshift office. Pull up your chair.’

  ‘Pull it up? Pull it up to where?’

  ‘Pull it up to where I don’t have to use a megaphone to be heard.’ Andreas watched as she obligingly relocated her chair to the front of his desk. Much better. His eyes dropped to the shadow of her cleavage visible where the top two buttons of her white shirt were undone. It would take seconds to lock that office door so that he could explore the achingly familiar terrain under the businesslike outfit. The irony of him being the one who wanted to flout his own self-imposed rules of behaviour was not lost on him. Past experience had always had him as the one with stringent rules about boundary lines over which women could not step. He made love to them, entertained them, lavished them with presents—but he went to bed alone, and if work beckoned then they were always relegated to second place.

  He certainly had never gritted his teeth at midnight when he was told that it was time for him to leave. He did now. Nor had he ever found himself doodling a woman’s name on a piece of paper and then chucking the piece of crumpled paper in the bin with a mixture of guilt and annoyance. He did now. Hence what he saw as a fine solution to the problem.

  ‘Have you given any thought to what happens next in your life plans?’

  ‘My life plans?’ Elizabeth gave a nervous laugh and looked at him hesitantly. ‘I thought we were going to talk about work.’

  ‘I’ll get to that. But first answer my question. Thoughts about what happens next for you—any?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Well, here’s the good news, I have.’ Andreas stood up, shoved his hands in his pockets and strolled to look out at the well-maintained gardens stretching out towards the open fields.

  ‘Thank you, but there’s really no need for you to work out life plans on my behalf,’ Elizabeth told him lightly.

  ‘Why not? From where I’m sitting, I wouldn’t be surprised if you chose to put your life on hold just to stay here indefinitely.’

  As there was no reply to that well-directed shot in the dark, Elizabeth maintained a cautious silence and waited to hear where this was going. Nowhere good was what her mind told her.

  ‘But, of course, that would be utterly impractical. You’re young. All this…’ he extended his hand to encompass the gloriously sweeping rural views ‘…might appeal for a while, but sooner or later the restrictions will begin to bear in on you. When that happens, when you start thinking about the months and the years of being buried out in the middle of nowhere…’

  ‘Hardly nowhere. You make it sound as though a trip to the nearest town involves long-haul travel and inoculation shots!’

  ‘You’ll begin to crave the urgency of somewhere more lively. Not to mention the obvious fact that James will be able to manage on his own very shortly. His consultant says within the next month or so, bearing in mind he will have Maria here to attend to his catering and keep an eye on him.’ Andreas paused and frowned, because there was no encouragement to be had in her down-bent head. ‘Your role, to all intents and purposes, will be redundant.’

  Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes and she blinked them away. ‘Redundant’ was such an awful word, implying a complete lack of use, no longer wanted or needed, superfluous to requirements. Having run for cover the minute those uncomfortable thoughts had presented themselves, Elizabeth cringed now at the brutality of the unavoidable reality.

  ‘Ah, yes. I can see you’ve already given the matter some thought. Fortunately for you, I have a solution to hand.’

  ‘A solution?’

  ‘Of course.’ A small smile of satisfaction curved Andreas’s wide, sensuous mouth. ‘Come with me to London.’

  ‘Come with you to London?’ This was about the last thing Elizabeth had expected to hear, and she stared at him open-mouthed while her sluggish brain tried to decipher the missing connections.

  ‘It’s as easy as that. I won’t be staying here for ever and I want to take you with me.’

  ‘But…but don’t you already have a secretary? In London? What will you do with her? Aren’t there laws protecting people from unfair dismissal?’

  ‘I’m not going to dismiss anyone,’ Andreas said impatiently. ‘What are you talking about? You won’t be coming with me in the capacity of secretary. I already have my own personal assistant, and in turn she has her own people working for her. Believe me, when it comes to getting my orders followed through, there is no lack of highly efficient staff. Why do you think it has been possible for me to take time out and transfer my operations here for a while?’

  ‘You mean you want me to come as your…?’

  ‘Lover.’ He strolled towards her and leaned down, hands on either side of her chair, caging her in so that the heady scent of him filled her nostrils, destabilising her; for a few seconds she really didn’t quite take in what he was saying. When it filtered through, she blinked in alarm and placed her hands on his chest to push him away from her.

  ‘You want me to give up everything here so that I can become your mistress?’

  ‘Give everything up? In six weeks’ time, there will be nothing to give up. You don’t expect to be paid for hanging around, enjoying the countryside, do you?’

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘And I can understand why you maybe don’t like the term “mistress”—so why don’t we just say that what I want is for us to continue with what we have? And it’ll be good…’ His voice was husky and he raked his fingers through his hair while trying to gauge her reaction through narrowed eyes. He should have known that it was all in the phrasing, and that someone as inherently romantic as Elizabeth would want his request to sound a little less bald. But Andreas had never done romance.

  ‘This is the wrong place to be having this sort of conversation,’ he muttered, shooting her a darkly accusing look, as though she had been the one to instigate it.

  ‘I can’t come and live with you, Andreas!’ The thought of it, however, was wickedly attractive. Wrong and dangerous, but still wickedly attractive. Just as having this relationship with him was wickedly attractive. Her common sense had gone on holiday and in its place was a reckless, devil-may-care foolishness that threatened her on every front.

  ‘Why not? You would have everything you wanted and we would no longer have to wait until the house was quiet so that I could sneak into your bedroom like a randy teenager with his parents in the room next door.’

  ‘What would I do, when you’re off running your companies? Skulk in your apartment getting myself ready for when you returned?’

  ‘Why are you picking holes in this? The sex between us is great. No, better than great. I want it to carry on. Simple solution for a simple problem.’

  ‘And what happens when the simple problem no longer exists? What happens when you get bored with the arrangement?’

  ‘Why attempt to cross bridges before they appear on the horizon?’

  ‘Because that’s the kind of boring person that I am,’ Elizabeth said painfully. ‘I like to be prepared.’ She did. Coming to Somerset had been the only unpredictable thing she had ever done in her life. Of course, it had been worth it, because meeting her father had been a blessing, but on other fronts she had paid dearly for her unpredictability. This past week had made sense of all her stolen glances and unbidden excitement. She had fallen in love with Andreas, the man now standing there and coolly telling her that he had worked out a solution to the simple problem of wanting her: move in, have fun then move out. Hell, something should have prepared her for that.

  ‘So do I,’ Andreas agreed smoothly. ‘Except when it comes to sex. Then I find unpredictability much more appetising. And why are you giving me a hard time over this?’

  ‘I’m not giving you a hard time. I just… It’s just not a very good idea.’


  ‘Because you’re not attracted to me?’

  ‘You know that’s not the case,’ Elizabeth muttered, reddening.

  ‘I know.’ That small crack in the arguments she had generated, which had set his teeth on edge, was something he could work with. Like it or not, he wanted her, and he always got what he wanted; that was a simple fact.

  He moved to where she was frozen to her chair and stood in front of her so that she was obliged to finally raise her eyes to meet his. He felt a surge of hot, primal satisfaction at what he saw lurking grudgingly in the green depths. She might talk the talk, but that was where it ended. She wanted him as much as he wanted her and, if she wanted him to dress up the starkness of his offer a little bit, then he was willing to go along with that.

  He trailed one long finger across her cheek and then squatted down so that they were on eye level.

  ‘I’m no good with flowery words,’ he delivered with an honesty that wrenched at her heart strings—because his honesty made him vulnerable, whether he knew that or not, and Andreas didn’t do vulnerable. ‘But for me, asking you to share my space, to wake up with me and go to bed with me? Well, it’s a pretty big deal.’ His finger dipped to her lips, tracing their full outline, then moving on to linger in the hollow of her neck. She was barely aware when he reached behind to unravel her hair from its thick plait which hung down her back like copper rope, then he riffled his fingers through it and breathed huskily that that was much better.

  ‘What—what are you doing?’ Elizabeth stammered as she watched her carefully drawn boundaries, the boundaries that protected her, being plundered. ‘We agreed that we wouldn’t…’