The Duke's Boardroom Affair / Convenient Marriage, Inconvenient Husband. Yvonne Lindsay

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СКАЧАТЬ sure I can figure it out.”

      He picked up the envelope and handed it to her. “Inside is a badge for this building, and another that will give you access to the business offices at the palace—”

      “The palace?” She never imagined that going to the palace would be a part of the job description.

      “I keep an office there and often attend meetings with King Phillip. Have you ever been there?”

      She shook her head. She’d only seen photographs. Not that she hadn’t imagined what it would be like.

      “Well, then, I’ll have to give you a tour.”

      Okay, maybe there would be some perks to this job. The idea of being in the palace, and possibly meeting members of the royal family, filled her with nervous excitement. Then she reined in her wayward emotions by reminding herself that this was not going to be a fun job. And given the choice, she would rather be anywhere but here.

      “You’ll also find a set of card keys,” he continued, “for both your office and mine. They’re marked accordingly. And in a separate envelope is your personal security code for my house.”

      Why on earth would he give her access to his house?

      “My driver will be at your disposal twenty-four hours a day. Unless, of course, I’m using him, in which case you will be reimbursed for your petrol use.”

      A driver? She couldn’t imagine what she would need that for. This job just kept getting stranger and stranger.

      He gestured to a second door, adjacent to the one connecting their offices.

      “That door leads to Penelope’s office and will be the entrance that you use. She’ll take you on a tour of the building, show you the break room and facilities. If you need to speak to me specifically, call first. The line to my office is marked on the phone. If I don’t answer that means I’m busy and not to be disturbed.”

      “All right.”

      “My business calls go through Penelope, but any personal calls will be routed through your office or to the cell phone I’ll supply you.”

      Answering phones and taking messages? Not the most challenging job in the world. But the duke was obviously a man who liked things done a certain way, and if nothing else she respected that. More than once her employees at the Houghton had suggested she was a little too rigid when it came to her business practices, but she had never felt an ounce of regret for running a tight ship.

      She had been working since the age of twelve, when her father let her help out in the Houghton Hotel office after school. But only after earning her master’s degree in business at university was she promoted to manager. Her father had insisted she earn her education, should she ever need something to fall back on.

      And, boy, had she fallen back.

      “Take some time to look over your duties, then we can discuss any questions you have,” he said.

      “Fine.”

      “I have to warn you, I’ve been without an assistant for a week now, and I’m afraid things are in a bit of a mess.”

      Honestly, how hard could it be, being a glorified secretary? “I’m sure I can manage.”

      “Well,” the Duke said, with one of those dazzling smiles, “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

      He turned and was halfway through the door before she realized she had no idea how she was supposed to address him. Did she call him Sir, or Sire? Did she have to bow or curtsy?

      “Excuse me,” she said.

      He turned back to her. “Yes?”

      “What should I call you?” He looked puzzled, so she added, “Mr. or Sir? Your Highness?”

      That grin was back, and, like his handshake, she felt it all the way to the pit of her belly.

      Stop that, she warned herself. He only smiled that way because he wanted her to feel it in her belly.

      “Let’s go with Charles,” he said.

      She wasn’t sure if that was proper. Calling him by his first name just felt too…casual. But he was calling the shots, and she wasn’t going to give him any reason to accuse her of violating the contract. “All right.”

      He flashed her one last smile before he closed the door behind him, and she had the distinct feeling he knew something she didn’t. Or maybe that was just part of the game. Either way, she refused to let him intimidate her. If they thought they were going to force her out, they had no idea who they were dealing with. She hadn’t earned her reputation as a savvy businesswoman by letting people walk all over her.

      She took a seat at her new desk, finding the chair to be as comfortable as it looked. But the office itself was cold and impersonal. Since she would be spending at least six months here, it wouldn’t hurt to bring a few photos and personal items into work.

      She opened the laptop and booted it up. On the desktop were the documents he had mentioned. Convinced this job couldn’t get any worse, she opened the one titled Duties. Starting at the top, she read her job description, working her way down the two-page, single-spaced list, her stomach sinking lower with each line, until she could swear it slipped all the way down near the balls of her feet. Personal assistant, my foot.

      She had just agreed to be Charles Frederick Mead’s indentured slave.

      Two

      Charles sat at his desk, watching the time tick by on his Rolex. He gave Victoria five minutes before she stormed into his office in a snit about her employment duties. And he’d bet his ample net worth that she’d forget to call first.

      For a woman with her education and experience, the backward step from managing a five-hundred-room hotel to the duties of a personal assistant would be tough to navigate. If it were up to him, he’d have found her a position in the hotel. But it wasn’t his call. His cousins, King Phillip and Prince Ethan, were calling the shots.

      The Houghton Hotel hadn’t been acquired under the best of circumstances—at least, not for the Houghton family—and the royal family needed to know if Victoria was trustworthy before they allowed her into the fold. The logical way to do that was to keep her close.

      He could see that she was still distraught over the loss of their hotel and property, but, sadly, the buyout had been inevitable. If not the Royal Inn, some other establishment would have swooped in for the kill. At least with the royal family they were given a fair deal. Other prospective buyers, with less interest in the country’s economy, might have been far less accommodating. But it was possible that Victoria and her father, Reginald Houghton, didn’t see it that way. But at the very least, she could show a little bit of gratitude. The royal family had saved them the embarrassment of both professional and personal financial devastation.

      He’d barely completed the thought when his phone rang. Three short chirps, indicating the call originated from Victoria’s office. She remembered.

      He glanced at his watch. СКАЧАТЬ