The Cattleman. Margaret Way
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Название: The Cattleman
Автор: Margaret Way
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon Cherish
isbn: 9781408944929
isbn:
“I’m so sorry—” Jessica was tempted to mention it could only have been a few minutes after four, but Cyrus intervened.
“She was chatting with me, Dad. Okay?” He lifted a hard-muscled arm and glanced at his watch. “How time flies! It’s three minutes past.”
“And you’re back early,” B.B. clipped off.
“Surely there’s not a note of disapproval in that. I don’t clock on and off, Dad. Eddie Vine took a bad spill off his motorbike. He’s been airlifted to the hospital.”
“I’m not surprised to hear that,” B.B. said with a frown. “He’s a bad rider.”
“No.” Cyrus jammed his hands into his jeans pockets. “You’re the one we all have to get out of the way for, Dad. Now, I’m off for a good scrub. Enjoy the tour.”
“We shall,” his father replied curtly.
At that moment, a middle-aged attractive woman with soft gray eyes and long dark hair pulled back into a severe French twist hurried into the entrance hall. “Excuse me, B.B. I’m sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Kurosawa is on the line. I know you want to speak to him.”
B.B. all but snarled. “Dammit!” Then, more mildly, he added, “Okay I’m coming, Ruth.” He turned back to Jessica with a surprisingly charming smile. The many faces of Broderick Bannerman in less than half a minute she thought. “I’m sorry, my dear, this is going to take time. I’ll have to postpone our tour until tomorrow.”
In the background, Cyrus Bannerman spoke up. “If Ms. Tennant will give me ten minutes, I can show her around the place.”
“I prefer to do it, thank you, Cyrus.”
“No trouble, Dad,” Cyrus insisted smoothly.
There was a silence as B.B. responded to what seemed like a challenge.
“Very well,” he barked, turning abruptly on his heel.
Cyrus Bannerman stood, lean elegant frame propped against the cedar post of the staircase. “By the way, Jessica, you haven’t met Ruth, have you? Ruth is Dad’s secretary. Ruth this is Jessica Tennant, Dad’s new interior designer.”
“Pleased to meet you, Jessica.” B.B.’s secretary gave Jessica a sweet, flurried smile, clearly anxious to follow her master. “I must go. B.B. might want something.”
“Best not keep him waiting, Ruthie,” Cyrus warned, his blue eyes full of mischief. “Now suddenly it’s up to me, Ms. Tennant, to give you the grand tour.”
“Why is it I’m thinking you’re trying to score points in a competition with your father?”
“God, is it that obvious?” He shook his head. “Why don’t you wait for me on the veranda? It’s nice this time of day. I’ll only be ten minutes.”
“I beg you. Don’t hurry on account of me.”
“You should thank me for rescuing you,” he said blandly.
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