At His Service: His 9-5 Secretary: The Billionaire Boss's Secretary Bride / The Secretary's Secret / Memo: Marry Me?. Michelle Celmer

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СКАЧАТЬ didn’t know when she became aware that the sound in her dream was actually real. She lay in a state of muzzy half-awareness for a while, unable to come round fully, and then sat up in bed as reality hit. She was in Harry’s home, in his bed. Well, not in his bed, but in one of his beds.

      Switching on the bedside lamp, she reached for her watch which she’d placed on the little cabinet earlier. Half-past three. And she knew she’d still been awake at three o’clock. She’d probably only had twenty minutes of sleep; no wonder she felt so out of it.

      It was the puppies. The sound that had woken her was still there, a distant whining and yelping, and now she tiredly brushed the hair out of her eyes and reached for the towelling robe she’d found on the back of the en suite door. She’d have to go and see what was the matter. Harry was probably a typical man; once he was asleep nothing short of an earthquake would stir him. Her father could sleep through anything.

      She sat on the edge of the bed for a few moments once she’d pulled the robe on, feeling distinctly light-headed. Probably due to the storm of weeping that had ensued once she’d been by herself earlier, she thought dismally. And crying while trying not to make a sound had given her a headache. She’d hunt about for some aspirin while she was downstairs, but first she’d better see what was what in the utility room.

      Considering she’d been a stranger to them a few short hours ago, the puppies gave her a rapturous welcome when she padded into the utility room, tumbling over each other in an effort to reach her. Laughing despite her tiredness, she changed the top layer of newspaper, where they’d obligingly done their duties, and then prepared some more food which they polished off in record time.

      ‘You were hungry.’ She looked down at them as they moved round the now-empty saucer, small pink tongues still licking for traces of food.

      The smallest puppy made her way over to her, beginning to nibble at her toes as the others scrabbled round for attention. ‘You want some fuss, is that it?’ Curling up on the wad of towelling Harry had put down, Gina allowed the four little warm bodies to make their way on to her lap. ‘Missing Mum and home, I suppose,’ she murmured as she stroked their furry heads. ‘Although, if you did but know it, you’re far better off here. Who knows what would have happened to you if Harry hadn’t noticed that box?’

      ‘It’s ten to four.’

      Harry’s voice from the doorway brought her head jerking up so fast, she heard her neck crack. He was standing leaning against the wall; she didn’t know how long he’d been watching her.

      ‘I know.’ Her mouth had gone dry. He was dressed in dark pyjama-bottoms and a black-cotton robe which was hanging loose. His thickly muscled chest was black with body hair, and his hair was tousled and falling over his brow. He looked … magnificent. ‘It was the puppies,’ she mumbled feverishly. ‘They were crying. They were hungry.’

      ‘You should have ignored them.’

      ‘I couldn’t.’ The virile masculinity just feet away reminded her she was stark naked under her robe. She wanted to tighten the belt, but with her arms full of puppies she couldn’t. ‘Anyway, you came down too, I wasn’t the only one.’

      ‘True.’

      He didn’t elaborate as to whether she had disturbed him or he’d been awake anyway. She was aware he was looking at her with unconcealed scrutiny, and she wished she’d taken the time to at least brush her hair. She’d scrubbed at her face before she had gone to sleep in an effort to remove the last of the make-up her tears hadn’t washed away; she bet her nose was shining like Rudolph’s. When the smallest puppy made a valiant attempt to bury herself inside the top of her robe, thereby causing it to gape a little, Gina hastily tipped the four of them off her lap and pulled the belt tight.

      Carefully rising to her feet, she said nervously, ‘I’m sorry if I woke you.’

      ‘You didn’t.’

      She expected him to move from the doorway as she approached, and when he didn’t she stopped a foot or so away, praying the trembling deep inside wasn’t visible.

      ‘You’ve washed your face,’ he said slowly.

      ‘Yes.’ She didn’t need to be reminded of what she must look like.

      ‘I can see your freckles better,’ he observed, as though that had been the whole point of the exercise.

      She wrinkled her nose. ‘Don’t remind me.’

      ‘I like freckles, especially with blue eyes and reddish-gold hair.’

      ‘Titian,’ she corrected automatically, glad he hadn’t said ‘ginger’.

      ‘Titian,’ he repeated softly. ‘But your eyelashes are dark brown. And thick.’

      She’d always been glad about that. It was one of the few things about herself she liked. She tried to think of something to say, something witty and light, and failed utterly. It was the look on his face. He was staring at her as though she was a woman. Which she was, of course. It was just that he had never noticed before.

      But this was Harry. The warning screamed through her head. Harry, the self-determining. Harry, the mother and father of non-involvement. Harry, who didn’t want a woman in his life other than to take care of his sexual needs. And that was what was happening right now, or would happen if she let it. She loved him too much to become just another notch on his bedpost. She wouldn’t be able to stand it when he dropped her off later in the morning with a cheery wave and a casual goodbye. Because that’s what he’d do.

      Lowering her head, she tightened the belt of her robe still more. ‘Fancy a cup of tea?’ she said, hearing herself with a touch of hysteria. Tea. Tea?

      There was a brief pause, and then his voice came cool and easy. ‘If there’s toast to go with it. I’m starving.’

      So was she, but not for tea and toast. But she’d had her chance and blown it, she thought with burning regret.

      The puppies had settled down again, all but the smallest, who now had her two front paws scrabbling at the wood barrier as she whimpered pitifully. Glad of the diversion, Gina retraced her footsteps and lifted the little scrap into her arms, whereupon the puppy immediately snuggled against her and shut its eyes.

      ‘What?’ she challenged as she caught Harry’s eyes. ‘The poor little thing’s due some cuddles after all she’s been through.’ She was also a welcome third-party if they were going to indulge in tea and toast.

      ‘Will you spoil your children, too?’ he murmured smokily, amusement colouring his voice.

      ‘With cuddles, if they’re frightened or upset?’ she said tartly, ignoring the pang her heart gave. She would never have children because they couldn’t be Harry’s. ‘Absolutely.’

      Once in the kitchen with the puppy cradled against her chest, she didn’t try to clamber onto a stool, but stood and watched him as he filled the kettle and then placed two slices of bread in the toaster. ‘Mind if I go through to the sitting room?’ she asked as casually as she could. ‘My feet are cold on these tiles.’

      ‘Be my guest. I’ll bring the tray through in a minute or two.’

      There was a dark stubble on his chin. He was as unlike the perfectly СКАЧАТЬ