All Male. Kay Thorpe

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      ‘I’m not,’ she said. ‘I’m only here to bring Mr Hartford a file he left behind.’

      His brows shot up. ‘You work for the big boss?’

      ‘His mother,’ Kerry corrected. ‘I’d better get a move on. He’s in a hurry for it.’

      The grin was meaningful. ‘I’ll bet!’

      Kerry ignored the innuendo. It was what she might have expected from Jason King. She’d gone out with him once while she’d been working here, but hadn’t cared to repeat the experience after he’d made his interests only too clear. Yet another good-looking, out-for-what-he-could-get dissolute!

      He got off at the fourth floor, leaving her to continue one more to the executive floor. She had never had occasion to enter the hallowed premises before, and was tentative about it now as she approached the desk where Lee’s secretary held jurisdiction over further progress.

      An attractive brunette in her late twenties, the latter took the file from her with what Kerry considered an unwonted chilliness in her manner.

      ‘Mr Hartford asked that you wait,’ she said. ‘He’ll be through shortly.’

      Kerry took the indicated seat with reluctance. He had better, she thought, have a good reason for keeping her here! She was going to be on the margin for lunch as it was: Mrs Ralston always served promptly at one. Hopefully, Estelle would be feeling more inclined towards work this afternoon.

      ‘Shortly’ turned out to be a good twenty minutes. Kerry sat fuming, on the verge of walking out by the time the inner office door opened at last. The two men who came out looked like bankers—an unmistakable breed in her estimation. Lee was right behind them, the meaningful lift of that mobile left brow as he looked across at her sending a sudden ripple down her spine.

      ‘Sorry to have kept you so long,’ he said. ‘Come on through.’

      She did so, weathering another somewhat frigid glance from his secretary. The kind of hostility that might be extended by the discarded towards the apparently newly favoured, Kerry conjectured, although she would have thought even Lee would draw the line at his own secretary, no matter how attractive.

      The office was huge, with several easy chairs arranged in a casual grouping off to one side of the room, in addition to the usual accoutrements, and a stylish decor that managed to suggest affluence without being overdone. The window went almost wall to wall, affording a magnificent view out over the river.

      ‘Impressive,’ Kerry commented, refusing to be intimidated by it all. ‘You really do yourself proud.’

      ‘I get by.’ Closing the door. Lee indicated the conversation area. ‘How about a drink before we go to lunch?’

      She looked at him sharply, taken aback by the casual statement. ‘I didn’t come for lunch.’

      He returned her gaze equably. ‘But you’re here and it is lunchtime. I’d hardly send you back hungry.’

      ‘I’d have been back by now if you hadn’t kept me waiting,’ she pointed out. ‘If I’d realised—’

      ‘If you’d realised you’d have given me the same cold shoulder you’ve been giving me since we met,’ he interjected. ‘It’s time we came to a better understanding.’

      Kerry regarded him in silence for a moment, registering the purposeful gleam in the grey eyes. The dark blue pinstripe he was wearing might give him an air of respectability, but underneath lay the soul of a born philanderer. As one who so far had shown resistance, she presented a challenge his pride wouldn’t allow him to forgo.

      So why not take up Sarah’s proposal? came the sudden and reckless thought. Why not allow him to believe he was achieving a breakthrough? It would be immensely satisfying to lead him up the garden path, if only for a while.

      ‘Your mother will be expecting me back,’ she said with what she hoped was just the right amount of hesitation.

      Lee shook his head. ‘I spoke to her after you left and told her we’d be lunching together. She said not to bother going back afterwards. She’d prefer a fresh start in the morning.’ He was moving as he spoke, crossing to a side table holding bottles and glasses. ‘About that drink?’

      Any vacillation she might have felt was swept aside by the sheer gall of the man. No matter what it took, she was going to give him his comeuppance, Kerry vowed savagely. Just see if she didn’t!

      ‘I’ll have a mineral water, if you have it,’ she said, and was gratified to hear how level her voice sounded.

      ‘Ice and lemon?’

      ‘Please.’ Seated in one of the comfortable chairs, she watched him as he poured the drink, her eyes following the tapering line from shoulder to lean hip and assessing the muscular length of leg beneath the fine wool. Whatever his deficiencies in character, he was a perfect specimen physically, she was bound to admit. Fit as a lop, as her mother would say—although exactly what a lop was heaven only knew!

      She lifted her gaze no further than the knot of his tie when she took the glass from him, trying to ignore the sudden tingle as his fingers brushed hers. ‘Thanks.’

      He was drinking the same thing himself, she noted in some surprise as he took a seat himself and lifted the glass to his lips—at least, that’s what it looked like.

      ‘I never drink alcohol when I’m driving,’ he advised, correctly reading her thoughts.

      ‘That’s very responsible of you,’ she murmured.

      ‘A close friend was killed by a drunken driver only last year. I don’t intend adding to the statistics.’ There was no element of self-commendation in the statement. ‘I gather the biography isn’t coming along so well?’

      ‘Just a temporary thing,’ she answered, hoping she was right. ‘I imagine most writers have their off-days.’

      ‘You don’t see her simply running out of steam?’

      ‘Not unless she’s in the habit of starting things she doesn’t finish.’

      ‘Normally no, but, then, she’s never tackled anything like this before. How long are you supposed to be giving her?’

      ‘It’s an open contract. As long as it takes, I suppose.’ Kerry directed him a contemplative glance, temporarily sidetracked. ‘Do you object to the idea?’

      The shrug was brief. ‘Why should I object? It’s her life, not mine.’

      ‘But I imagine you’ll come into it at some point.’

      ‘Only on the periphery. The theatre was always the most important thing in her life. Until she met Richard, that is. And, before you ask, I don’t have any hang-ups about that either. He was a good man.’

      Kerry said levelly, ‘She sacrificed an awful lot for him.’

      ‘More than many women would be prepared to do, I agree.’

      ‘More than most men would be prepared to do, for certain!’ she flashed, СКАЧАТЬ