No Mistaking Love

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No Mistaking Love Page 9

by Jessica Hart


  She was his secretary. She must remember that. Cool. Sensible. Businesslike. Wasn't that how she had decided to be? Wasn't that how she was?

  Kate closed the lid of the box and turned it slowly between her hands, her head bent so that all Luke could see was the dark sweep of her lashes against the clear skin.

  `No, I suppose not,' he said in a flat voice.

  The companionable atmosphere had tensed, and the silence that fell jangled uneasily between them. Kate found that she was holding the box too tightly, and put it down, hiding her hands beneath the table in case Luke should see their shaking.

  She stared blindly down at the plastic ashtray advertising Gauloises. Luke's face danced in front of her eyes: firm nose, firm mouth, firm jaw. The line of his cheek, the lines around his eyes. She ached with the need to reach out and touch him.

  Suddenly Luke picked up his glass and tossed back the dregs of his wine. `Come on,' he said, putting the glass back down with an abrupt click, `We'd better go if we want to catch that flight.'

  It was a silent journey back to London. Luke buried himself in a report, and Kate looked out of the window at the blue lightness above the clouds and reminded herself of all the reason: why she shouldn't love him.

  It was pointless. It was stupid. It was a complete waste of her life. He wasn't even very nice. She would do far better to fall in love with someone who would appreciate her, like Xavier. The sensible thing to do would be to convince herself that Paris had gone to her head. She would concentrate on her work and forget that Luke was anything other than her boss.

  Well, she would try.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  FORTUNATELY for Kate, so much needed to be done to finalise details for the new contract that she had little time to think, and when she was able to go into work with a calm pulse and a heart that did no more than lift very slightly when Luke came into the room she decided that she had simply been over-reacting to the excitement of Paris.

  She and Luke had slipped into a routine of sheer hard work, and Kate often had to work late, translating or collating documents when the phones stopped ringing at the end of the day. She didn't mind. The longer she worked, the less time she had to think about whom Luke was taking out to dinner.

  He seemed tired and preoccupied much of the time, but it didn't stop his going out every night, either with Helen or a girl called Lynette, who rang persistently, usually when Kate was at her busiest.

  She and Luke had found an even balance, Kate decided. Apart from one or two notable occasions, Luke was generally polite and treated her as a valued and efficient employee. Kate told herself she was glad. Once or twice she would look up from her word processor and their eyes would meet for a glancing moment before both looked quickly away.

  One day Luke came into the office, to find Kate holding a huge bunch of roses and searching for the card.

  `Who's been sending you flowers?' he scowled.

  Kate opened the envelope and pulled out the card. `They're from Xavier,' she said slowly, reading the message.

  'Xavier! What's he doing, sending you flowers?' Luke snatched the card out of her hand. "`Hoping to see you soon, Xavier,"' he read with disgust. `When's he coming?'

  `I've no idea,' said Kate. `I'm surprised he didn't mention it on the phone. I speak to him quite often.'

  `I hope you're not using the office phone to organise your love-life,' Luke said ungraciously. `I won't have my staff making personal phone calls all day.'

  Kate cast him a look of calm reproof. `You know perfectly well that I have to talk to Xavier about business. He's dealing with most of the detail on the contract. It's one of the reasons you employ me, after all, to talk to him about the arrangements in French.'

  `As long as they're the only arrangements you're talking about!' Luke went into his office and shut the door behind him with a bang.

  The flowers seemed to put Luke out of temper for the rest of the day. He was in a nit-picking mood and nearly drove Kate up the wall by finding fault with everything she did, and changing his mind about some travel arrangements so often that Kate had difficulty holding on to her temper.

  But it was a beautiful February day, and the sky was bright with the promise of spring. Pale winter sunshine poured in through the window and the sweet fragrance of the roses hung in the air. In spite of Luke, Kate found herself humming as she went through some papers on her desk.

  `What are you so happy about?' Luke snapped, erupting from his office without warning. He strode over to the filing cabinets and began rummaging around in one of the drawers. `I suppose you're feeling smug because of those roses cluttering up the office?'

  'Are you looking for anything in particular?' Kate asked sweetly, ignoring his question.

  `I want that file on David Young Associates. Why can't you keep these files in some kind of order?'

  'They are in order. You're looking in the wrong drawer.' Kate rose, pushed him firmly out of the way, shut the drawer and pulled out the one beneath it. `The David Young Associates file lives here,' she said, retrieving a thick buff folder. `It's difficult to find, I know, because the label is confusingly marked "David Young Associates".'

  Luke glared at her sarcasm and grabbed the file from her as the phone rang.

  Kate answered it. `It's for you,' she said to Luke. `Helen Slayne. I think it must be a personal call.'

  Luke took the receiver with bad grace and a look which said that he had not missed the point. `Yes, Helen, what is it…? No, I can't be any nicer. I'm busy.' He was obviously regretting taking the call in front of Kate, for he turned away and lowered his voice. `I'm not ignoring you. I've just got a lot on my mind at the moment.'

  There was a pause. Kate, studiously carrying on with her paperwork, could imagine Helen's sultry murmurings. Luke watched her suspiciously over his shoulder as he listened. His gaze fell on the roses and he glowered at them. `All right,' he said. `Come in later and I'll take you out to lunch.'

  He banged down the phone. `I'm going out to lunch,' he said unnecessarily, still glaring at the flowers.

  `That'll be nice.' Kate kept her voice bland. `Would you like me to book you a table?'

  Luke's jaw was working in the way it did when he was trying to control his temper. `I'll do it myself!' he said rudely, and banged back into his office.

  Kate raised her eyes heavenwards. There was no pleasing him today! It would be a relief to have him out of the office for a couple of hours.

  She was frowning over some shorthand when Helen made her entrance. She looked breathtaking as usual in leopard-patterned leggings and a provocatively cut top in a dull gold colour. Really, Luke had a nerve criticising her black dress for being revealing, Kate remembered indignantly.

  A pair of sunglasses pushed on top of her head held the glorious silver-blonde mane away from Helen's face as she sauntered over to Luke's door with barely a glance at Kate.

  When she emerged with Luke a few minutes later Luke was looking grumpy. He stopped to give Kate a number where she could reach him if necessary.

  `Don't tell me you've got another secretary, darling!' Helen said lightly, deigning to notice Kate's existence at last. `The other one didn't last long, did she? What do you do to them?'

  `What other one?' Luke asked irritably, still looking through his diary for the number of the restaurant.

  `The last time I came round there was a rather plain, disapproving-looking female sitting here.'

  `Kate was here then. Nobody could be more disapproving than her!’

  'Really?' Helen's green eyes sharpened as she took in the fact that Kate was not nearly as plain as she remembered. `Quite a transformation!' She didn't sound as if she liked the fact.

  Kate's lips tightened as Helen looked at her a little more closely.

  `You know, there's something familiar about you,' Helen said slowly.

  Luke had finished scribbling the number down and now tucked his diary back in his inside pocket. `Funny, I keep thinking that, too.'

  Kate
tensed as they both stared at her with narrowed eyes.

  `Must be someone on television,' Luke said, giving up.

  `Perhaps you're right.' Helen sounded unconvinced. `I wouldn't have said that we move in the same social circles, that's for sure!'

  Kate's eyes were cold. `I expect I look familiar because you've seen me before,' she said briskly, hoping that her dismissive tone would divert Helen's attention from the real truth of what she said. `Luke was right. I was sitting here last time you came round.'

  `That must be it.' Helen shrugged, losing interest as Luke took her arm.

  `Let's get a move on,' he said impatiently.

  Kate watched them go to the door before allowing herself to relax with a sigh of relief. Unfortunately, Helen chose that moment to glance back over her shoulder, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously at the relief writ large in Kate's expression.

  Kate could only hope that she and Luke would have better things to talk about than how familiar his secretary looked. If they thought about it long enough they might remember, and that was the last thing she wanted!

  She was waiting nervously when Luke came back after lunch. He didn't say anything, so she breathed again, but he was in a foul mood and kept her working until half-past six.

  Kate arrived punctually at nine the following morning, to find Luke prowling around her office and muttering as he rifled through files. Evidently his temper hadn't improved overnight!

  Kate judged it best simply to ignore him. She wished him a cool good morning, which was not acknowledged, and hung up her coat. When he was in this kind of mood she had no trouble telling herself that she must have imagined falling in love with him!

  The phone rang as she headed towards her desk, and, although she had plenty of time to answer it, Luke jumped on it as if to prove that she wasn't doing her job properly.

  `Yes?' he snapped, obviously about to take his bad temper out on some poor unsuspecting employee at the other end of the line, but he was to be frustrated. With some amusement, Kate heard him say, with an effort to sound polite, `Oh, yes, how are you?'

  Obviously a client, Kate thought, seating herself behind her desk and reaching for the diary. He wasn't polite to anyone else.

  There was a pause and then Luke said stiffly, `Yes, she's here.' He handed the receiver to Kate. `It's Xavier Robard, wanting to speak to my charming assistant,' he said nastily. `I presume that means you.'

  Kate took the phone from him with a brilliant smile and proceeded to greet Xavier with a lot more warmth than she did normally. Luke gave her no chance to be private, but remained obstinately perched on her desk, pretending to read a file but patently eavesdropping. Kate was speaking in rapid French, but she had no doubt that he was following the gist of the conversation.

  `So when's he coming over?' Luke demanded as she put down the phone.

  `Oh, did you miss that bit?' Kate asked sarcastically. `Sorry, I should have spoken more slowly for you!'

  Their eyes clashed angrily. His were slate-grey and very hard, hers a hostile gold.

  `He's coming tomorrow,' Kate added sulkily, looking away first.

  `And you're having dinner with him.' It was a statement, not a question.

  `Yes. Do you have any objection?'

  Luke grunted for an answer. `Is he coming into the office?’

  'He didn't say so. Why, did you want to see him particularly?'

  `You might have thought that I might have some details to discuss with him!' Luke said unreasonably.

  `I can easily ring him and make an appointment if that's the case.' Kate reached for the phone, but Luke stopped her with an irritable gesture.

  `Oh, leave it! If he's coming panting after you he probably won't want to be bothered about business.'

  `As a matter of fact, he's coming over on a quite different business matter,' Kate said coldly.

  Luke snorted. `That's his story!' He picked up the desk calendar. `Tomorrow's the fourteenth, Valentine’s Day. Funny that his different business should just happen to be tomorrow. I suppose he chose the date deliberately?'

  `I think that's most unlikely,' Kate said with a frosty look. `They don't make a big thing of Valentine's Day in France.'

  `Well, since you've reminded me of it, I suppose I'd better arrange for some flowers for Helen and Lynette,' Luke said with what Kate strongly suspected was deliberate provocation. `Get a bouquet sent to each of them tomorrow, will you?'

  'What, both of them?'

  'Why not?' he retorted cynically. `It'll keep them both quiet, and they don't need to know that they're not the only ones.'

  Kate made a neat note on her shorthand pad. She was determined not to be upset by the fact that Luke chose to send flowers to other girls. `What sort of bouquet?' she asked, very matter-of-fact.

  `Oh, I don't know.' Luke shrugged irritably. `One of those big elaborate jobs. Whatever you would like.'

  `Personally, I think those big bouquets are rather vulgar,' Kate said austerely. `A simple bunch of tulips, hand-delivered, would be much more romantic.'

  `You're so understated, Kate!' Luke got to his feet, a hint of amusement in his voice. `Still, I think vulgar bouquets would be much more appropriate for Helen and Lynette.' He glanced down at the flowers Xavier had sent and his expression hardened once more. `Send them dozen red roses each.'

  `Any message?' Kate asked sweetly. `Or would you like me to make one up for you?

  'Just put my name on them,' Luke said wit] a nasty look.

  `Very romantic,' Kate murmured as he turned away.

  `I'm not a romantic,' he snarled, heading for his office. `And nor are Helen or Lynette.'

  `Then why bother sending them flowers?'

  'It gives them some kind of trophy to display that's all. And, if all it takes is money, I don' care!'

  No, Luke was definitely not a good man to fall in love with.

  Kate phoned the florist and tried not to thin: about Valentine's Day. A day for lovers. It wasn't a good day to be hopelessly in love with someone who didn't, would never, love you.

  She woke the next morning feeling unusually depressed, and she went through her routine of getting ready without enthusiasm. When the doorbell rang she struggled into her dressing gown and opened the door, expecting to see the postman with something that was too big to fit through the letter-box. Probably a bill, she thought glumly. He certainly wasn't likely to have a pile of Valentine's cards for her!

  There was no one there. Kate looked out, puzzled, and then her gaze dropped to the doorstep. A large bunch of pink tulips, still tightly bundled, lay there.

  Kate picked them up slowly. There was no message.

  What was it she had said? A simple bunch of tulips would be much more romantic. Closing the door behind her, she buried her face in the flowers with a slow smile. They could only be from Luke. Her heart soared even as her mind struggled to keep it firmly under control.

  `I'm not a romantic'-but he had given her flowers. Of course, it might be a gesture from a busy man to say that her hard work did not go as unnoticed as she thought. Yes, it might be that. Kate put the tulips in a glass jug and stood back to admire them. It would be just like Luke to do something confusing like this rather than just come out with a compliment!

  She speculated about the flowers all the way to work, unable to decide whether she should thank him, or whether he would prefer her to pretend she didn't know whom they were from.

  In the event, he solved her dilemma by being out of the office all morning, and in such a bad mood when he finally came in that Kate decided to restrict her comments to the bare necessities. When he had snapped her head off for the fourth time she even began to wonder if she had been mistaken, and was thankful that she hadn't said anything.

  `I suppose you want to leave early, since you're going out with your Frenchman tonight?' Luke grumbled as she laid some letters on his desk.

  `I don't need to leave early, but I'd certainly like to leave on time for once.' Kate looked back at him calmly.
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  `There's no need to sound such a martyr. Anyone would think I kept you chained to this desk twenty-four hours a day!'

  `I don't usually get away before half-past six,' Kate pointed out, unruffled.

  Luke chewed at his thumbnail. `Where's he taking you?'

  'I'm not sure-it's a restaurant he knows in Soho somewhere.'

  'Xavier would know a little restaurant in Soho!' Luke snorted with disgust and then glared at her suspiciously. `What are you going to wear?

  Not that black dress, I hope?'

  `I'm afraid I haven't given it much thought yet,' Kate said frostily, resenting the inquisition. What did it matter to him? He had already asked her to book a table for dinner that night, so he obviously had plans of his own.

  Kate had grown more and more crabby as the day had passed, and she began to feel foolish about her euphoria over the flowers. Even if he had sent them, it hadn't been the romantic gesture she had hoped. He was far too busy having a good time with Helen or Lynette or any of the other women who rang up and wasted her time insisting on leaving messages for him.

  `Is he going to pick you up from home?' Luke persisted.

  Kate sighed, exasperated. She felt like telling him to mind his own business, but that would only stir his curiosity even more. `I'll probably meet him in town,' she said in a resigned tone. `He doesn't have a car here, and it would be difficult for him to get to my flat. It's not exactly central.'

  `It's not that far,' Luke said, and then stopped as if suddenly realising that he had betrayed himself.

  `I didn't realise that you knew where I lived.' Kate lifted one eyebrow coolly, but a treacherous glow of hope began to spread through her.

  `Your address is on your CV,' Luke blustered, then grinned a little shamefacedly.

  Kate's chill hauteur was no proof against his smile, and even as she warned herself not to give in too easily, she was unable to prevent smiling back.

  `Thank you for the flowers,' she said. `They're lovely.'

 

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