The Billionaire's Christmas Desire. Janice Maynard

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       One

      Another secretary to interview.

      Zach Delaney stood at the window of his west Texas ranch and watched the approaching car. This candidate was prompt. He had heard this one lived in Dallas, was single, only twenty-four, a homebody who insisted on weekends free to go home. She wanted a week off before Christmas and two days after Christmas. If she could do the work, it was all right with him. He didn’t know her, but she had worked more than two years at his Dallas office, which held the corporate offices of his demolition company, his trucking company and the architectural firm he owned. She’d risen fast and was highly recommended.

      As Zach watched the car approach the house, he thought about the other secretaries he’d interviewed and the conversation he’d had with his brother Will, who had stopped by an hour ago.

      He remembered Will laughing. “I know you—you’re probably about to go up in smoke from boredom.”

      “You’ve got that right. I feel as if I’m a prisoner and time seems to have stopped,” Zach replied, raking his fingers through his thick, brown curls.

      Will nodded. “Don’t forget—you’re supposed to stay off your feet and keep your foot elevated.”

      “I’m doing that most of the time. Believe me, I want my foot to get well.”

      Will smiled. “You should have just stayed in Dallas after Garrett’s wedding earlier this month. You haven’t been cooped up like this since you were five and had the mumps.”

      “Don’t remind me.”

      “That was twenty-seven years ago. I don’t know how you’ve made it this long in demolition without getting hurt.”

      “I’ve been lucky and careful, I guess.”

      “If you don’t end up hiring today’s interviewee, I’ll send someone out to work for you. If I had known the difficulty you’re having finding a competent secretary, I would have sent one before now.”

      “Thanks. One secretary lasted a few days before deciding the ranch was too isolated. Another talked incessantly,” Zach grumbled, causing Will to laugh. His brother’s brown eyes sparkled with amusement.

      “One of those women hovered over me and told me what to do to take care of myself. Actually, Will, instead of hiring a secretary to help go through Dad’s stuff, maybe we should just trash it all. Dad’s been gone almost a year now and this stuff hasn’t been touched. It’s not important. The only value that stuff can have is sentimental. That makes it worthless as time passes.”

      “We don’t know for sure there isn’t something of value in those boxes,” Will argued.

      Zach nodded. “Knowing our father, he could have put some vital papers, money or something priceless in these boxes, just so someone would have to wade through them.”

      “You volunteered to go through his papers while you recuperate from your fall. You don’t have to.”

      “I’ll do it. The secretary will help go through all the letters and memorabilia while I also keep up with work. You became guardian for Caroline and you handled a lot of the dealings to bring our half sister into the family. Ryan’s knee-deep in getting his new barn built while commuting back and forth to his business in Houston. Besides, I’m the one incapacitated with time on my hands. I’m it, for now. I don’t know what got into Dad, keeping all this memorabilia. He would never have actually written a family history.”

      “Our father was not one you could figure. His actions were unfathomable except for making money. He probably intended to write a family history. In his old age I think he became nostalgic.” Will headed toward the door and then paused. “You sure you don’t want to join us for Thanksgiving? I’ll send someone to get you,” he added, and Zach was touched by Will’s concern.

      “Thanks, but no thanks. You enjoy Ava’s family. Ryan leaves soon to spend Thanksgiving with the latest woman in his life—I can’t keep up with which one this is. I’ll be fine and enjoy myself all by myself.”

      “If you change your mind, let me know. Also, it’s less than six weeks until Christmas. We’re going to Colorado for the holiday. Do you want to come along? We’ll be happy to have you join us.”

      “Thank you.” Zach grinned. “I think I’ll go to the house in Italy. It’ll be beautiful there and you know I don’t do Christmas.”

      “So who is the beautiful Italian lady? I’m sure there is one.”

      “Might be more than one.” Zach smiled. “You hadn’t been into Christmas much yourself until you got Caroline. Now you have to celebrate.”

      “Truthfully, with Caroline, it’s been fun. Come with us and you’ll see.”

      “I love little Caroline, but you go ahead. Doc told me to stay put and this is a better place than snowy mountains in Colorado.”

      “That’s true, but we’d take care of you.”

      Zach shook his head. “Thanks, Will, for coming out.”

      “Let me know about the secretary. I’ll get you one who’s excellent.”

      “With Margo on maternity leave, I may have to find a new one permanently. I don’t want to think about that.”

      Now, Zach shifted his foot and glared at it, recalling the moment the pile of rubble had given way and he had fallen, breaking an ankle, plus small bones, causing a sprain and getting one deep gash. Staying off his foot most of the time was hell. He didn’t like working daily in an office, and the doctor told him he couldn’t go back to working on site or travel much, but he could do some work at the ranch and stay off his foot as best he could.

      Zach sighed as the car slowed in front of the house. Emma Hillman. She climbed out of her car and came up the walk.

      Startled, he momentarily forgot her mission. A tall, windblown, leggy redhead, who would turn heads everywhere, was striding toward his front door. With looks like hers, she belonged on a model’s catwalk or doing a commercial or in a bar, not striding purposefully toward his house in the hopes of doing secretarial chores. Even though she wore a tailored, dark green suit with an open black coat over it, she had a wild, attention-getting appearance.

      The west Texas wind swept over her, catching more tendrils of long red hair and blowing them around her face. Immobilized, Zach stared. She didn’t look like any secretary on his staff in any office he had. Nor did she resemble the homebody type to his way of thinking. All those recommendations she had—they must have been based on her looks. His spirits sank. He would have to ask Will to find him somebody else. He needed someone who would stay on the ranch during the week. This one was a declared homebody. Add СКАЧАТЬ