A New Year Bride. Scarlet Wilson

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      He could hear a strange noise outside his room. Like a shuffling. After more than a few seconds it was annoying.

      Finlay’s first reaction was to shout. But something stopped him. Maybe it was Alice Archer? Could she have come looking for him?

      He sat his pen down on his desk. ‘Is someone there?’

      The noise that followed was almost a squeak. He smiled and shook his head. ‘Well, it’s obviously an infestation of mice. I’d better phone the exterminator.’

      ‘What? No!’ Grace’s head popped around the door.

      Grace. It was funny the odd effect that had on him.

      She kind of sidled into the office. ‘I’m sorry if I’m disturbing you, Mr Armstrong.’

      He gestured towards the chair in front of him. ‘It’s Finlay. If you call me Mr Armstrong I’ll start looking over my shoulder for my father.’

      She shot him a nervous smile and walked hesitantly across the room towards the chair.

      He tried his best not to stare.

      Grace had already caught his attention. But now, she wasn’t wearing the maid’s outfit. Now, she had on a black suit and stiletto heels.

      Finlay Armstrong had met a million women in black suits and heels. But he’d never met one quite like Grace. She had on a pink shirt with a funny tie at the neck.

      And it was the colour that made him suck in his breath. It wasn’t pale or bright, it was somewhere in the middle, a warm rose colour that brought out the colour in her cheeks and highlighted the tone of her lipstick. It suited her more than she could ever know.

      Her hair swung as she walked across the room. It was the first time he’d seen it down. Okay, so the not staring wasn’t going to work. Those chestnut curls were bouncing and shining like the latest shampoo TV advert.

      Grace sat down in the chair opposite him fixing him with her warm brown eyes. She slid something across the desk towards him.

      ‘I just wanted to check with you.’ She licked her pink lips for a second. ‘How, exactly, do I use this?’

      He stared down at the company credit card. ‘What do you mean?’

      She bit her lip now and crossed one leg over the other. Her skirt slid up her thigh and he tore his eyes away and fixed on her eyes.

      Big mistake.

      ‘I mean, do I sign—can I sign? Or do I need a pin number or something?’

      ‘You haven’t used a company credit card before?’ He hadn’t even considered it.

      She shook her head. He could see the slight tremble to her body. She was nervous. She was nervous coming in here and asking him about this.

      ‘Sorry, Grace. I should have left you some instructions.’ He’d just left the card for her in an envelope at Reception. He scribbled down some notes. ‘This is what you do.’

      She leaned forward on the desk as he wrote and a little waft of her perfume drifted towards him. He’d smelled this before. When he’d been inches from her in the penthouse he’d inhaled sharply and caught this same scent, something slightly spicy with a little tang of fruit. He couldn’t quite place which one it was.

      He finished writing and looked up. ‘Have you had some ideas about what you need for the hotel?’

      She nodded and lifted up some papers in her hand, unfolding them and sitting them on the desk. She still looked nervous. ‘I know quality is important to you. But, because you’ve left things so late this year, I can’t really pre-order or negotiate with anyone for a good price. We’ll have to buy straight from the retailer. So…’ she pressed her lips together for a second ‘…I’ve prepared three price ranges for you. You can let me know which one you prefer and we’ll go with that one.’

      He waved his hand. ‘The price isn’t important to me, Grace. The quality СКАЧАТЬ