Desired By The Boss. Catherine Mann

Чтение книги онлайн.

      April was almost finished for the day when Hugh opened the front door. The charity truck had just left, taking away the latest boxes full of donated things.

      It had left the foyer almost empty, with only a neat stack of flattened boxes near the door and the ‘Hugh’ box sitting on the bottom step of the grand stairway.

      ‘Hello!’ April said, smiling as he stepped inside. She hadn’t seen him since the stripy blouse debacle, but had already determined her approach: regardless of her sisters’ opinion, she was going to remain strictly professional.

      Even considering another approach made her...

      Well. It didn’t matter. It was too soon after Evan, and Hugh was her boss. These were compelling supporting arguments for professionalism.

      No matter how compelling Hugh himself might be, simply by walking through the glossy black door.

      April had just sent him her summary email, but was doing a quick sweep-up of the dirt that the charity man had tracked inside before going home.

      ‘Hi,’ he said, shooting only the briefest glance in her direction before striding for his box. It was the first day since that afternoon in his basement that she’d had anything to add to it, and of course she’d let him know.

      Hugh picked up the box in the swiftest of motions and then immediately headed down the hallway—which led through the kitchen, the utility room and then outside to the skip.

      April had assumed he’d come and check the box after she’d gone for the day, so she wasn’t really prepared for this.

      ‘Wait!’ she said, before she could stop herself.

      He stopped, but didn’t turn. ‘Yes?’ he asked. His tone was impatient.

      She knew she shouldn’t have said anything.

      ‘Nothing—sorry,’ she said.

      There. Professional.

      Then, somehow, she was jogging up the hallway. ‘Wait...please.’

      Again he stopped immediately at the sound of her voice.

      This time he turned to face her.

      She’d run up right behind him, so he was really close, with only the open box between them.

      She reached inside. She’d found a lot of sentimental things across two boxes today: a large pile of ancient finger paintings and children’s drawings—all labelled ‘Hugh’ with a date in the mid-nineteen-eighties—and all of his school reports, from preschool through to Year Thirteen.

      But it was some photos that she picked up now, in a messy pile she’d attempted to make neat. But that had been impossible with the collection of different-sized photos: some round-edged, others standard photo-sized, some cut out small and weathered, as if they’d been kept in someone’s purse.

      ‘These are from your first days of school,’ she said.

      Hugh didn’t even look at them. He shrugged. ‘I don’t care.’

      But he wasn’t meeting her gaze, he was just looking—April thought—determinedly uninterested.

      ‘I don’t believe you.’

      That got his attention.

      ‘I beg your pardon?’ he said, sounding as British as April had ever heard him.

      ‘I don’t believe you don’t care,’ she said, slowly and clearly. As if there was any chance he’d misunderstand.

      His gaze was locked on hers now. ‘I don’t see how that matters.’

      April fanned the photos out as if they were a deck of cards. ‘Look,’ she said, giving them a shake. ‘These are photos of you in your school uniform. For each year there’s a photo by yourself, with your school bag. And another with your mum. These are special.’

      ‘They’re not,’ he said. He nodded at the box. ‘Please put them back.’

      April shook her head. ‘No.’

      ‘No?’

      ‘No,’ she said firmly, her gaze remaining steady.

      It would seem she’d thrown her professionalism out of the window.

      She’d get extra shifts at the supermarket if he fired her and the temp agency blacklisted her. Or clean toilets. Whatever. She just couldn’t pretend that she agreed with this.

      ‘You’re making a mistake.’

      His eyes narrowed. His voice was rough. ‘You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.’ He turned away from her and continued down the hallway. ‘I’ll just throw them out tomorrow.’

      ‘Do you hate her?’ April blurted out the words to his rapidly retreating back.

      Faster than she’d thought possible he was back in front of her. Right in front of her. He’d dropped the box at some point and there was now no barrier between them.

      His presence crowded СКАЧАТЬ