The Boss's Inexperienced Secretary

She was free of Kate Campion and her waspish companions; life could only get better.

At eight-thirty the next morning Kim was reminding herself of this was she stood in Pat’s office, listening to Blaise’s secretary outlining the normal procedure that occurred before the rest of the office staff arrived.

Blaise was already in his office. Pat admitted she didn’t really know what time their boss got to work, but in the five years she’d been working for him she had never arrived before Blaise once. He was a self-confessed workaholic, she ventured, but he never asked more of any employee than he was prepared to give himself.

All very commendable, Kim thought wryly, but at this precise moment that wasn’t particularly comforting.

At twenty to nine the interconnecting door opened and Blaise appeared. By now Kim was feeling sick with nerves. The feeling of being out of her depth wasn’t helped as she took in the dark man leaning nonchalantly in the doorway. He seemed even bigger and tougher than she remembered. More attractive too. He was wearing a blue shirt the same colour as his eyes and his tie was hanging loose, the first two or three buttons of his shirt undone and showing the beginnings of dark body hair.

The laser-sharp gaze swept over her. ‘Hi.’ It was casual, easy. ‘Good journey this morning, I hope?’

‘Fine, thank you.’

He nodded. ‘Let’s hope it lasts. I seem to remember Pat thinking she could commute from somewhere or other but within six months she was living in the city. Right, Pat?’

Pregnant and contented, Pat smiled serenely. ‘And a month later I met John and within four months we were married.’

‘Whirlwind courtship, I remember.’ The piercingly blue eyes switched to Kim. ‘I trust history isn’t going to repeat itself?’

Kim occasionally had flashes of her father’s quick wit. Straight-faced, she said, ‘I doubt it; I’m sure John is very happy with Pat.’

Blaise stared at her for a moment before throwing his head back and chuckling. ‘You’ll do,’ he said, smiling, and disappeared back into his office.

Which was just as well. The brief glimpse of the man behind the tycoon had made Kim’s knees weak. He was gorgeous, she told herself with something akin to horror, but she couldn’t fall for her boss. Not on day one.

Whether something of what she was feeling showed in her face she wasn’t sure, but the next moment Pat said quietly, ‘He’s not an easy man to work for but I wouldn’t have missed a minute and I think you’ll feel like that too. He’s the most charismatic man I’ve ever met and has a succession of girlfriends that change with the wind. They only have to get a tiny bit clingy and they’re history—he’s strictly a love ’em and leave ’em type. I thought I was in love with him for a little while after I first started but I quickly realised it was a hundred times better to work for him than go out with him; he’d be murder to date. The only female who will ever lay claim to Blaise’s heart is his daughter—he’s devoted to her. Now, let’s get back to those files. As I was saying…’

The rest of the day flew by. At the end of it Kim staggered to the train and sat in dumb senselessness all the way home. After a hot bath and a cold meat salad she fell into bed incredibly early and slept solidly until the alarm went off the next morning. The next four days were a repeat of the first and by the weekend she felt she couldn’t have survived one more day without a break.

After sleeping most of Saturday and Sunday away, she went in to work on Monday morning feeling rested and prepared for the challenge. She fared slightly better that second week, and by the third had got a handle on most things. By the fourth week she knew she had gone up several gears and was coping fine. She was still exhausted most evenings but Pat said that went with the territory.

It was just as well she had acclimatised to life at Blaise’s pace fairly quickly, because at the end of the fourth week Pat began to feel unwell. Within twenty-four hours there was a risk she could lose the babies. This didn’t materialise, but the end result of the scare was that she was hospitalised and would remain virtually flat on her back for the rest of the pregnancy.

When Kim went to visit her with a bunch of flowers and several good novels, she found Pat in a private suite which didn’t bear any resemblance to the general wards.

‘Blaise insisted on footing the bill when it was discovered the firm’s private health insurance didn’t cover one or two things,’ Pat confided once she had thanked Kim for the flowers and books. Considering Kim had had to negotiate the jungle of hothouse blooms the room held to reach the bed, her little offering looked rather forlorn. ‘He got one of the top men in the country to look at me and then had me moved here.’

‘That was generous of him.’

Pat nodded. ‘It’s certainly put John’s mind at rest. He thinks Blaise is the best thing since sliced bread. How much it’s all going to cost by the time the twins are actually born I dread to think, but Blaise is adamant it’s OK.’

‘You know Blaise wouldn’t do anything he didn’t want to do.’ Kim smiled at the woman she had come to like very much in the last month. Pat had gone the extra mile in helping her slip into the job, smoothing out a hundred and one difficulties and being generous with her time and advice. ‘Now, just try to relax and make the most of being waited on hand and foot. You’re going to be pretty busy once the babies arrive.’

‘I’m already bored out of my head.’ Pat wrinkled her small nose. ‘And I want you to promise me you’ll call if there’s anything you’re not sure about.’

‘Of course I will,’ Kim lied. She had no intention of worrying Pat with office matters when she was supposed to be having complete rest and being kept free from any stress or anxiety. ‘But I’ll be fine. You’ve been fantastic the last few weeks and all those notes you’ve given me cover everything from A to Z.’

Pat had been taken ill during Thursday night and today was Sunday. Because Blaise had been tied up with organising the consultant and Pat’s hospital care himself, Kim had seen little of him on the Friday. Tomorrow would be the first proper day she was alone with him in the role of personal assistant, and she was ridiculously nervous already. She knew Blaise well enough by now to know that she had to hide any tension she might be feeling from him, though. He valued self-control and a cool, calm approach to any situation above anything else.

She sat talking to Pat until John arrived fifteen minutes later and then made her excuses and left. She had driven into London when she discovered the hospital had a car park; she had enough of the train every day in the week. Humanity packed into a small space was never particularly uplifting—or fragrant.

She was just going to get into the car when she heard her name called. Her heart thudding, she swung round. ‘Blaise—what are you doing here?’ Stupid question, but he didn’t appear to notice. In fact, for once he looked distinctly harassed. It suited him; made him appear more like the rest of the human race.

Kim just had time to notice how the black jeans and charcoal open-necked shirt he was wearing did even more for him than the immaculate business suits he wore to work, before he said, ‘You’re leaving, I take it?’

She nodded. ‘Why?’

‘I’ve got a couple of forms Pat needs to sign and as next week is going to be a busy one I thought I’d kill two birds and bring them myself and make sure they’re looking after her properly. At the last minute Lucy wanted to come with me but she doesn’t like hospitals.’

Kim nodded again. Pat had told her Blaise’s daughter had been in hospital for a couple of weeks after the accident which had killed her mother. She had also hinted that the child was a bit of a handful.

‘She’s insisting she can wait in the car by herself, although I’d rather not leave her alone.’

Kim stared into the tough, attractive face. His daughter was ten years old in a couple of weeks’ time, more than old enough to sit in a parked car and wait while her father delivered the papers, surely? ‘I can wait a while with her if you like.’

In true Blaise style, there was no prevarication or asking her if he was putting her about. ‘Thanks,’ he said shortly. ‘Come and meet her.’

He led the way to his Ferrari. It was a panther of a car, black and sleek and powerful, and always sat in the space reserved for it in the firm’s car park like a dark, brooding presence. The young child sitting in the passenger seat couldn’t have been more at odds with the car’s aura. She looked much younger than nearly ten, seven at the most, and was tiny and fragile and as blonde as Blaise was dark.

As Blaise opened the door, saying, ‘This is my new personal assistant, Lucy. Her name’s Kim,’ she bent and peered at the little girl, smiling widely.

‘Hello, Lucy. Nice to meet you.’

The child stared back at her with enormous clear blue eyes. ‘Hello,’ she said reluctantly. She didn’t smile back.

‘Come and sit in; I won’t be more than a minute or two.’ Blaise took Kim’s arm, moving her round the bonnet of the car and opening the driver’s door. She had no option but to slide in beside Lucy, who was now eyeing her resentfully, as Blaise said, ‘Kim’s going to keep you company, Lucy,’ and then shut the door.

Great. She turned to the child but before she could speak, Lucy muttered, ‘I’m not a baby, you know.’

Kim watched Blaise disappear into the building in the wing mirror. ‘I know that. You’re ten in two weeks’ time, aren’t you?’ she said brightly. ‘Are you having a party?’

Ignoring this, Lucy continued, ‘So you don’t need to sit with me, all right? You can go.’

She wished. ‘Your father asked me to wait until he comes out,’ she stated calmly.

‘I’ve told you, there’s no need.’

Kim took a deep breath and let it out evenly. ‘Nevertheless, I said I would.’

‘I don’t want you to.’

‘I’m sorry but I can’t help that.’

‘This is my car, not yours. If I want you to get out then you have to.’

Thanks a million, Blaise. And this definitely didn’t come under the job description. Looking into the angry little face, which was undeniably pretty, Kim said quietly, ‘Are you always this rude, Lucy?’

Blue eyes blinked in surprise. For a moment Kim thought Blaise’s daughter was going to defend herself but instead she repeated stubbornly, ‘I want you to get out now.’

‘Very well. I’ll stand by the car until your father comes back, OK? Will that satisfy your desire to show me I’m just one of your father’s employees?’ She opened the car door but didn’t exit immediately, saying first, ‘One day you will learn that having lots of money and power should make you treat people under you, those not as fortunate, more kindly than anything else. Throwing your weight about makes you look like a spoilt, petulant brat, that’s all. And that is extremely unattractive.’

She would have liked to climb out of the car with dignity but it was crouched so low to the ground it was more of a scramble. Shutting the door extra gently because what she really wanted to do was slam it hard, Kim stood by the car. Perfect. Not only would this little scenario make Blaise think she couldn’t even handle a nine-year-old child, but she had insulted his daughter to boot. The apple of his eye. Wonderful start to the week.

She didn’t glance down into the interior of the car before she saw him hurrying towards her. Then she slanted her eyes at Lucy, who was staring stiffly ahead, scowling.

As Blaise reached the car Kim began walking, saying over her shoulder, ‘Over to you.’ And you are more than welcome.

His voice, somewhat startled, followed her. ‘Thanks. See you in the morning.’

Unless I get a phone call to tell me I needn’t bother. But no, he wouldn’t do that, not with Pat in hospital. Blaise wouldn’t cut off his nose to spite his face.

Would he?

CHAPTER FOUR

ALL evening Kim was on edge. She didn’t regret saying what she had to Blaise’s daughter—in fact, she thought Lucy had got away lightly—but at the same time the fact that the episode might have soured her future at West International had shown her just how much she wanted to work for Blaise.

She’d had no idea the job would prove to be quite so fascinating before she had started. She had imagined being the personal assistant of a multimillionaire wouldn’t be boring, but Blaise wasn’t even your normal run-of-the-mill mogul. He was larger than life in every way, a high-profile personality who mixed with others of the same ilk.

She had already seen that he was implacably businesslike, very level-headed and more than a little cynical, but he had a wicked masculine charm that he used to great effect on occasion when all else failed. Altogether he was formidable, physically and every other way, and she still wasn’t really sure if she actually liked him or not because she had the feeling Blaise only let you see what he wanted you to see. The real man was an enigma. And she didn’t like that. After David, when she’d had to face the unwelcome truth that she had been all set to marry a man who was nothing more than an image he had projected which wasn’t the real man at all, she had steered well clear of anyone her instinct had dubbed mysterious or a conundrum.

But she was only working for Blaise. She had comforted herself with that numerous times. And the job was, without a doubt, a peach.

It was a little later, as she lay relaxing in a warm, bubbly bath with a glass of wine at her elbow and a candle filling the air with the scent of magnolias, that it dawned on her the reason she was so unsettled tonight wasn’t wholly due to the possible outcome of her confrontation with Blaise’s daughter; it was seeing Blaise in a different light. A more…human light. She could barely equate the word vulnerable with her aggressive, dynamic boss, but he had certainly been different.

She sighed, wriggling her toes and then reaching for the glass of wine. She was going to pamper herself tonight; do a facial and paint her toenails and make sure she was perfectly groomed and on the ball when she went into work tomorrow. With Pat gone, Blaise needed her more than she needed him at the moment, she had to remember that. He couldn’t abide disorder or any hint of confusion; his office had to run like clockwork. And she wasn’t going to think of him or his brat of a daughter any more either. Tomorrow would come soon enough.

The next morning Kim strode into the office looking every inch Blaise’s personal assistant. Her classic tailored suit, neat court shoes and immaculate appearance stated she was competent and proficient, and no one would have guessed she had a stomach full of butterflies doing the fandango.

She hadn’t even reached her desk when the interconnecting door opened.

‘Good morning.’ As ever Blaise’s tie was loose and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone. Kim had schooled herself to take this in her stride over the last four weeks. Just. ‘Thanks for helping out with Lucy yesterday.’

She eyed him warily. The deep, smoky voice hadn’t carried any hint of sarcasm or annoyance but you never could tell with Blaise. ‘That’s all right.’

‘She’s going through a bit of a troubled patch at the moment and yesterday wasn’t a good day. Her grandmother, my ex-wife’s mother, called round and Lucy is always unsettled after she’s gone.’

Considering that not once in the last month had he said anything remotely personal, Kim didn’t know how to react. But it wouldn’t do to show that. Quickly, she said, ‘It must be difficult knowing how to handle things at times. One of my close friends is in the same position. She says what she misses most since her divorce is being able to talk out a problem concerning one of the children at night and get a balanced view.’ She immediately felt she’d said too much. Hastily, she added, ‘Of course, every situation and every child is different.’

He was looking at her intently now. For a moment she thought he was going to make a dismissive remark and turn round and go back into his office. Instead he nodded slowly. ‘She has something approaching a phobia about hospitals; it all dates back to the accident, I guess. Normally I wouldn’t have dreamt of bringing her with me but I was already in the car when she insisted on coming. She was getting upset and it seemed the lesser of two evils.’ He shrugged. ‘She’s approaching that awkward age when she needs a mother to talk to.’

And from what Pat had revealed there was no chance of that. ‘Couldn’t she talk to her grandmother or someone else in the family?’

‘If you met my ex-wife’s mother you would see why that is impossible,’ he said shortly. ‘And there is no one else.’ His tone suggested he felt he had said way too much and the blue eyes had iced over. ‘The Massey file. Bring it in, would you? And I shall need those notes on the Brendan contract by ten o’clock.’

The brief glimpse of the real Blaise had gone; it was now very firmly work mode. Kim nodded. When the door to his office had closed she continued to stand for a moment, her thoughts racing. Did she assume the child hadn’t repeated what she’d said to her? It would seem so.

She walked over to her filing cabinet, unlocked it and took out the Massey file. When she tapped at his door and walked in he was seated at his desk, his head bent over the papers spread out in front of him. He did not look up. She quietly placed the file on a corner of the desk but didn’t speak, and when she was in her own office again she let out her breath in a whoosh.

So. It looked as though this day was the first one where she would be working as Blaise’s personal assistant without any back-up. She so hoped it was a good one.

It was, all things considered. There were a few teething hiccups and Kim realised just how much Pat had helped when she was still ploughing through the last of the day’s work at six-thirty, long after everyone else—except Blaise—had gone home. She finally finished a highly confidential and extremely interesting report on a company Blaise was considering taking over in Paris at seven o’clock, printing off a hard copy and then massaging her temples with weary hands.

‘Tired?’

The voice from the doorway, soft though it was, made Kim jump. Her head shooting up, she saw Blaise watching her with a half-smile twisting his stern mouth. ‘A bit,’ she said with magnificent understatement. ‘But I’ve finished the report on Delbouis you wanted.’

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