Page 4 of The Boss's Forbidden Assistant

Maybe even a college fund?a little voice in the back of her mind pushed, but Harper quickly silenced such a silly thought. College had been a pipe dream. One she’d given up on a long time ago. She’d had to, and she hadn’t regretted that for a single moment, she reminded herself forcefully. Not when she considered that she’d been able to provide for her mum by going straight out into the workforce.

It wasn’t Harper Lawson’s fault—none of it was.

Not her fault that, twenty-seven years ago, Amanda Carey had a daughter. Nor that, a year ago, that daughter had become engaged, was getting married in two weeks and ‘needed’ her mother to be there with her. It was not Harper Lawson’s fault that Amanda had taken her first proper leave in eight years, and that Salvador had had to grapple with how he’d come completely to depend on the other woman’s calm organisation of his life.

And it was definitely not Harper Lawson’s fault that she had eyes the colour of the ocean on a stormy afternoon, eyes the exact same shade as another woman Salvador had once known. Eyes he’d seen fill with delighted excitement and crushing devastation in the course of a few short months. Eyes he’d watch go from sparkling like emeralds to dull like slate over the course of two years. Eyes he would never see again, now that she was gone.

He stood, prowling from behind his desk towards the windows that overlooked the ocean, wishing that he could summon a storm cloud or two to go with his mood.

He didn’t like change.

He didn’t like people—new people, particularly.

And there was something in Harper Lawson’s manner that was particularly unnerving, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Beyond her eyes, there was no other resemblance to Anna-Maria. Anna-Maria had had short blonde hair that hung in soft waves around her face. She’d been tall and statuesque, until chemotherapy had made her so thin he’d thought she might break just by breathing—she very nearly had.

His face tightened into a grimace.

He tried not to think of Anna-Maria, or the baby they’d made and lost, and the way Anna-Maria had given her life for their child, delaying necessary cancer treatment so the baby would have the best chance of living. He tried not to think about the years of friendship with Anna-Maria that had been part of his life—the way they’d played together as children, written to one another as teenagers and then, one drunken night, had taken their relationship to the next level, changing all the parameters of his world.

He tried not to think about any of it, but every now and again it all came back to him, and he almost doubled over from grief. Not just at losing them, but at the fact he hadn’t been able to halt death. He hadn’t been able to destroy cancer. He’d thrown all his money at it, convinced modern medicine would hold the answer, but he’d been arrogant and stupid.

Their daughter had died, and then Anna-Maria had followed just months later. At twenty-nine, he’d buried his wife, one of his oldest friends. A year later, Salvador was still remembering how to put one foot in front of the other, which made the timing of Amanda’s absence even more vexing.

None of this was Harper Lawson’s fault, but she was here when he didn’t want her to be and, worse, he knew he’d be depending on her just as he had Amanda.

Still, it was only two weeks. He could live with that. In fourteen days, Amanda would be back, Harper would be gone and his life returned to normal, just as he liked it.

CHAPTER TWO

HARPER’SEYESWEREstinging but she had no intention of being the first to leave the office. Not when there was still a mountain of work to do and she was conscious of Salvador just beyond the glass window, working with apparently indefatigable energy, looking as bright and intent as he had when they’d met much earlier that day.

Had it seriously only been today?

She dropped her pen on the desk and leaned back in her chair, surrendering for a moment to a wave of fatigue, closing her eyes and inhaling, letting tiredness wash over as she counted to ten, then opened her eyes and refocused on the screen. The numbers blurred.

She pressed her fingers to her eyes, massaging the lids gently.

‘You can go.’

Neither of them had spoken in so long, she’d almost forgotten what he sounded like. But now his voice, accented and fascinating, washed over her from the direction of the door. She swivelled in her chair, heart leaping to her throat. He didn’t lookquiteas fresh as the morning, she thought with an instinctive frown. He’d unbuttoned his shirt at the collar, flicked open to reveal the thick column of his neck, and his sleeves were pushed up to the elbows, showing tanned forearms covered in a light sprinkling of hair. For some reason, the sight of that made her mouth go dry and her tongue feel too thick.

Awareness of him on any level was a disaster.

He was her boss, just as Peter had been. Alarm bells blared; she listened to them.

Swallowing hard, she turned back to her screen. ‘I’ll leave soon.’

‘You’re exhausted.’ He sounded disappointed, which raised her hackles.

‘Well, it’s after twelve,’ she pointed out, stretching her neck from side to side.

‘If this is too much for you...’

She ground her teeth together. ‘It’s not.’ She clicked a few things on her computer then put it into sleep mode. ‘Out of interest, what time does Amanda generally work until?’ She stood, gathering her things as she spoke.

‘Amanda has been doing the job for eight years.’

‘I’ll take that to mean she usually leaves her desk much earlier.’

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