Page 23 of Royally Promoted

‘What?’ she eventually muttered under her breath as her heart began to do an annoying drum beat inside her.

She was in a riot of colours—loose yellow trousers and a black-and-white striped tee-shirt, which couldn’t help but clash horribly with the patchwork cardigan she had made for herself during a short-lived knitting phase.

He, on the other hand, looked cool, elegant and irritatingly sexy in pale chinos and a white linen shirt which was cuffed to the elbows and hung loosely over the waistband of his trousers.

Why couldn’t she stop being aware of him? she wondered helplessly? She was fuming at him for his ill-conceived remark the evening before, and yet her disobedient eyes were still drawn to him, as though the pull of his beauty was too compelling.

She was restlessly aware of a powerful urge to paper over her hurt feelings so that things could return to normal between them. It wasn’t his fault that she’d seen what they had through different eyes. She’d had her horrendous experience, had had her heart broken and nursed her hurt in silence, but even after that her optimism about people, and love and life in general, had never dimmed.

She’d floated along imagining that, within the parameters of their working relationship, she and Malik had something just a little bit special and she felt that she’d been cruelly disabused of that illusion.

‘I’ll be heading over to see my father later,’ he eventually said. ‘I’ve repeatedly told him that he needs to be on bed rest, and definitely no stress whatsoever, but every day he gets a little stronger and a little more anxious about what’s happening with the businesses. I’ve consulted his specialist who said that, as long as I keep it light and brief, it might be better than to force him into fretful silence. And, like I’ve said, I need to talk work with him anyway.’

He paused. ‘My mother suggested that you come along but I told her that you had other plans. I got the impression that she took to you.’

‘Thank her for the invitation,’ Lucy said coolly. ‘And please make my excuses.’

Of course he wouldn’t want her getting too used to the notion that she might be part of his family. She was his secretary. She was the paid help.

‘Is that all?’ she asked politely and jumped when he slammed his fist on the desk and looked at her with simmering frustration.

‘What the hell is going on with you?’ he roared, leaping from where he’d been sitting to stride restlessly around the room, hand jerkily raking through his hair. He approached her in ever-diminishing circles until he was towering over her, scowling and as lacking in his usual rigid self-control as she had ever seen him.

‘Headache.’

‘Yes, and as soon as you get your medical degree you’ll diagnose what’s causing it and get back to me. Spit it out. You’ve been in a mood all day and it’s really getting on my nerves. You’re not a moody person so just tell me what’s going on.’

Lucy breathed in deeply. Their eyes tangled and for a second she felt as if she was drowning in the depths of his fathomless dark gaze. She knew that she had to get past this. She couldn’t be in a mood with him for the rest of their working lives. She would just have to swallow back any misplaced hurt and pick up where they had left off, but in her heart she knew that she would have to toughen up. She couldn’t get hurt every time Malik said something unconsciously thoughtless.

It was disconcerting seeing him in a different light but reacting to it? Allowing him really to get under her skin? That wasn’t going to do.

‘Honestly, Malik, I really do have a headache.’ Frankly, she was on the brink of getting one after this stressful conversation, so no lie there. ‘It must be the heat.’

‘What heat? This place is as cold as Siberia. We wouldn’t be able to work otherwise. So you can ditch the overheating excuse. Talk to me, Lucy. It’s not like you to bottle things up.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning that it’s not like you to bottle things up.’

‘I’ll be fine after I’ve had a shower and relaxed.’

‘Is it the work?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Am I working you too hard? It’s pretty intense at the moment and especially when we’re working here—there isn’t the distraction of strolling out to see some shops and get away for an hour. It’s something that’s crossed my mind more than once, even though I made sure to point out the differences you would find living and working over here. So is it that? Are you beginning to feel constrained?’

‘No. I’m not. I knew what I was letting myself in for when I came here. I’m fine catching up on emails and phone calls to my family when I take a lunch break. I don’t need round-the-clock entertainment to survive.’ She smiled stiffly. ‘Maybe I wouldn’t be able to do that for ever but, just while we’re here, it’s not a problem.’

‘Come.’

He shifted his gaze and glanced across to the huge windows that overlooked the incongruously pristine green lawns, an oasis of emerald amid the tan of the sand dunes. There was a dark flush on his face when he returned his glance to her startled face.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I said what I had to say yesterday...made things clear between us...’ He flushed darkly. ‘But my mother specifically asked for you to come. So, come.’

‘It’s fine.’

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