Secretary by Day, Mistress by Night

‘Come on, Maya—giving me the runaround is one thing, but I’ve been working myself up to fever-pitch knowing you were coming to my house this weekend. Just one little kiss, eh?’

He might have been drunk, but Jonathan was physically no push-over. He easily hijacked her arms to pin her against the wall, breathing heavily as he pressed his body hard against hers, seeing the sudden fear darkening her lovely green eyes and no doubt getting off on the thought of having his way.

That was until an authoritative male voice a few feet away said coolly, ‘I must say I’m surprised, Jonathan. For all your reputation as a ladies’ man I never thought you’d descend to physically forcing your attentions on a woman.’

‘What?’ More than a little discomfited, Jonathan abruptly released Maya to negotiate an unsteady step backwards. Wiping his hand across his mouth, he straightened, then looked Blaise Walker defiantly in the eye.

‘Don’t be daft, man! She’s been making eyes at me all evening. She was practically—’

‘Gagging for it?’ Blaise finished smoothly.

Maya wished the ground would open up and swallow her. Humiliation made her burn with rage at the injustice of it all. Did Jonathan’s famous client really believe that? She could hardly bring herself to look at Blaise Walker as she pushed back her hair, then twisted her hands anxiously together in the sensuous velvet folds of her frock.

‘From where I was standing, it looked like the lady was very definitely protesting at your attentions. Why don’t we just check with her to verify the matter?’

Maya found herself in the worst dilemma. If she made Jonathan look like a would-be rapist then what would that do for his client relationship with Blaise Walker? On the other hand, she had her own reputation to consider, and she was damned if she was going to trash it all in the name of public relations…She’d more or less just kissed goodbye to her job anyway.

‘As I told you before, I work for Mr Faraday,’ she said evenly. ‘If he mistakenly got the impression I was considering anything else by agreeing to come here this weekend then I’m sorry—but he’s most definitely wrong.’

Colouring in spite of her determination to stay strong, Maya flicked a glance at the handsome playwright, then tore it away again before his darkly brooding stare could make her reveal even more than she’d intended. Like the fact that she’d been genuinely frightened by Jonathan’s unwanted attentions. Blaise was a tall man, whose breadth of shoulder alone seemed to dominate the long, high-ceilinged corridor, and in his black tuxedo and crisp white shirt his impressive physique and confident stance instantly commanded the kind of jaw-dropping attention that was hardly commonplace in her day-to-day reality. No wonder he’d been such a successful screen actor. It wasn’t just his looks that would hook the audience in either. The man had genuine presence.

‘Well. You have your answer, my friend.’

At Blaise’s mocking stare, Jonathan had the grace to look momentarily repentant. Maya saw the sudden flush of colour beneath his artificial tan.

‘Too much to drink, I expect,’ he mumbled, shrugging his shoulders. Then, recovering quickly, he issued Maya with a belligerent glance that spoke volumes. ‘You know what it’s like—women are notorious for saying one thing when they mean another. I’m sorry you didn’t feel you could join us at dinner, Blaise, but perhaps we can talk about the campaign in the morning?’

‘I’m an early riser,’ the other man responded coolly, ‘and I like to go for a run before breakfast. Seven-thirty okay with you?’

Jonathan swayed a little, as if the mere thought of getting up so early on a Sunday morning after wining and dining the night away was like asking him to swim the English Channel when he could barely swim a stroke. He touched a slightly unsteady hand to his immaculate silver hair.

‘Seven-thirty’s fine. I’ll see you then.’ Without so much as a backward glance at Maya, he made his way carefully along to the opposite end of the corridor, pushed open a door right at the end and slammed it shut behind him, the sound resonating off the walls with the same jolting impact as cannon-fire…

Allowing herself the momentary luxury of leaning against the wall in support of her quaking limbs, Maya knew her sigh was hugely relieved. She’d had a lucky escape for sure. There was only one flaw. She was dependent on Jonathan for giving her a lift home tomorrow, because he’d insisted she travel with him. She couldn’t leave now even if she wanted to. Unless, of course, she was willing to blow the last of her precious month’s salary on an expensive cab ride to the nearest train station—and it was so late that she doubted any trains would still be running.

‘Are you all right?’

Her eyes widened a little at the unexpected concern in Blaise Walker’s voice, and the warm, gravelly resonance caused an involuntarily tingle in her body that reached all the way down to her toes.

‘I’m fine…thanks.’

‘Tell me straight—did he completely misread the situation?’

‘There wasn’t a situation to begin with! Except in his own twisted little mind, that is…It certainly wasn’t in mine’

Maya could have died, knowing Blaise Walker’s disturbing concentrated gaze was noting everything from the plunging cleavage of her tight-fitting velvet dress to the giveaway quiver of her fulsome lower lip. Flushing angrily, she tucked a glossy strand of black hair behind her ear and jutted her chin, green eyes flashing indignant emerald fire.

‘He admitted to me that he got me here under false pretences. Is it likely, under the circumstances, that I would encourage him? Look, Mr Walker…I’m just a temp who was hired to work for his PR company. I work hard to earn my pay, and at the end of the day I go home. I shouldn’t have to submit to the unwanted attentions of my boss for the privilege, should I?’

Considering the question, Blaise let his avid gaze fall on the agitated rise and fall of her chest. Her lush creamy breasts looked fit to burst from her gown at any moment, and God help him but all the blood in his body marched unerringly south.

‘Clearly you shouldn’t have to submit to anything of the kind, Miss Hayward. By the way—you do have a first name, I presume?’

‘Maya.’

She hesitated at the door of her bedroom, exhaling a long, resigned breath as she twisted the brass doorknob and pushed it open.

‘I’m sorry you had to witness that distasteful little scene. I really hope you won’t let it prejudice you against using Mr Faraday’s company to promote you. He has some good people working for him—I shouldn’t like what happened to backfire negatively on them.’

‘Your concern is admirable in the light of his quite appalling behaviour. But I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what the outcome will be, won’t we?’

After assessing her with a maddeningly enigmatic glance, Blaise turned and started to walk back down the corridor. When he’d travelled just a couple of feet away he looked back, and with a confident little smile said, ‘I don’t think you’ll have anything more to fear from your troublesome boss tonight. With the amount of alcohol he’s consumed no doubt he’ll enjoy the sleep of the dead. One word of caution, though—I’d really advise against wearing that dress at any future function, unless you’re prepared to handle the very particular kind of attention it generates…’ Lacking the courage just then to even meet his eyes, Maya mumbled a barely audible goodnight, hurried inside her room and bolted the door firmly behind her—as hurriedly as if she’d just been chased up the corridor by a herd of wild buffalo…

CHAPTER TWO

AWAKE since dawn, Maya chose not to linger in bed. Instead she got up, took a brief hot shower, then quickly dressed. Leaving her bags momentarily in the silent corridor, where behind closed doors Jonathan and his guests were still sleeping off the excesses of the night before, she took the risk of slipping a note under her boss’s door. A note that clearly outlined the reasons why she couldn’t stay and act as his assistant for the rest of the weekend and concluded with telling him that as soon as they returned to the office he could expect her resignation. Then, with her heart nervously tripping, Maya carried her bags downstairs.

If truth be known she couldn’t wait to get away from this house—away from her licentious boss and the cloud of deceit that had brought her there—away from his shallow moneyed friends who, when she’d been trying to make conversation, had looked right through her but had not really ‘seen’ her at all. It gave her an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu, being around people like that. It was too reminiscent of her childhood and those interminable painful gatherings of her father’s, with his so-called ‘friends’—acquaintances who had petted Maya like a puppy when it suited them and told her to get lost when it hadn’t, because she was cramping their style when they were drinking, drug-taking or trying to seduce someone.

Right now all she wanted was to return to her own little place, to what was comforting and familiar. She would have said to what was safe too, but since Maya had almost never experienced such a condition she bit her lip on the thought and shelved it away in some clandestine corner of her mind, where she would endeavour to forget about it for a while.

‘So…I’m not the only early riser around here, I see.’

Intent on leafing through the Yellow Pages she’d found in the hallway for a cab number, Maya glanced round, startled at the appearance of the owner of that low, provocative male voice. Lord, have mercy!

Dressed from head to toe in enigmatic black, Blaise Walker resembled a dangerous secret fantasy come to blood-pounding, heart-racing life, with his dark gold hair swept sleekly back from his strong sculpted face and his sizzling bold glance that now, in the light of day, she saw was a magnetic Mediterranean blue. She couldn’t attest to breathing at all as she stared back at him, but for several dizzying seconds the same roaring exhilaration pounded through her bloodstream that she imagined a Formula One driver must experience when he’d successfully negotiated a treacherous bend at devastating speed…

‘Good morning. I’m always up early, I’m afraid…I’m not one of those people who can lie in bed ‘til late. Besides…’ sensing heat suffuse her, Maya defied any woman with a libido to say the word ‘bed’ in front of a gorgeous male specimen like Blaise Walker and not be consumed with heat’…just as soon as I can get a cab I’m making my way home.’

‘So you’ve decided not to stay?’

‘To be honest, I don’t think that would be a very good idea—and I think my boss would probably agree. I don’t doubt he can’t wait to be rid of me after last night.’

‘You mean because you didn’t play along with his drunken and rather crass attempt at seduction?’

Casually sliding a hand into one of his trouser pockets, Blaise moved with compelling masculine grace towards Maya. A tantalising smile played round his well-cut lips that might have been mockery, curiosity, or perhaps even sympathy—who knew? That aside, his blunt description brought back afresh the sickening fear that had shuddered through her when Jonathan had been leering down into her cleavage and pinning her up against the wall.

‘You call that seduction? It was horrible! Just horrible! He had no right to—’ Her face flaming with embarrassment and a silent deepening fury at her boss’s totally reprehensible and rough treatment of her, Maya raked a shaky hand through her newly washed hair. ‘He’ll be doubly embarrassed that you saw it happen. I expect he’ll also be furious that I rejected him. I’d rather not stay here and find out his reaction, to tell you the truth.’

Moving her still trembling fingers down the appropriate thin page of the phone book, she located a number, then glanced back at the six-feet-something of powerfully arresting, hard-muscled male standing less than a foot away from her. Every cell in her body seemed to be drowning in the most compelling, exquisitely painful awareness of him, and she didn’t feel a bit prepared to deal with the fact.

Feeling as if his sharp gaze saw every self-conscious move she made, she turned to lay the book back down on the polished chiffonier.

‘I’d better phone for a cab. Excuse me…’

‘Where do you need a lift to?’

‘The nearest station.’

‘To catch a train to where? London?’

‘Yes…Camden.’

‘Don’t bother phoning a cab. I’ll take you.’

‘But the nearest station is fifteen miles away! What about Jonathan?’

‘What about him?’

‘Don’t you and he have a meeting this morning?’

The blue eyes that reminded Maya of perfectly still twin oceans that could no doubt seethe and turn stormy along with the best of deceptively calm seas stared back at her, as if the agreed meeting was of very little account indeed. Knowing from Jonathan’s assistant Caroline what mercenary methods her boss regularly employed in order for his agency to represent the ‘hot’ names of the moment when up against the competition, Maya couldn’t help but wonder what her boss had done to pull off this particular coup. In the world of theatre Blaise Walker’s name was definitely hotter than hot. She knew that was true because she regularly scanned the Entertainment and Arts pages of the papers, to see what was on in the West End, and she had read the fulsome and glowing accolades his work commanded as well as seeing the ‘Sold Out’ notices on the billboards.

But now she worried that if Blaise Walker didn’t make his meeting with Jonathan because he had given her a lift to the station then Jonathan would no doubt hold her completely responsible. Retribution in some form or other would quickly follow…maybe even manifesting itself in his refusal to give her a reference for her next job with her employment agency. It would be highly unfair and irregular, in light of Maya’s unblemished employment record, but Jonathan was more than capable of it—and worse.

‘I’ll ring him later. I’m pretty sure our Mr Faraday won’t lift his head off the pillow until lunchtime at least…if even then,’ Blaise remarked nonchalantly, dropping his hands to his hips. ‘In any case, after what I witnessed last night, any inclination I may have had to let your boss do my PR has definitely disappeared. One hears things about people. As a rule I don’t believe in listening to gossip, but having seen for myself the way the man conducts himself I’ve come to realise that much of the talk about him is probably quite close to the truth. The meeting I do eventually have with him won’t be the one he was hoping for, I’m afraid. Now…are these all your bags?’

Staring uncomfortably down at her soft canvas holdall, and the small leather tote bag that housed amongst other things her make-up, book and reading glasses, Maya was genuinely taken aback at the idea that Blaise had deplored Jonathan’s treatment of her and was showing his displeasure by withdrawing his agreement to let his agency do his publicity. She realised she’d been nursing a real fear that he would side with her boss when it came to believing any attractive woman that worked for him was fair game. But now she also wrestled with the idea of allowing a man she barely knew, and who could potentially turn out to be just like some of those mercenary acquaintances of her father’s—self-obsessed and making no bones about going after what they wanted no matter who they might hurt in the process—to drive her home.

Lifting her concerned emerald gaze to his, she frowned.

‘You really don’t have to bother, Mr Walker—’

‘Blaise,’ he insisted.

‘It’s easy enough for me to get a cab. At least then I won’t disturb the rest of your weekend.’

‘Oh, but you have disturbed me, Maya,’ he answered enigmatically, a glint in his eyes that made her insides clench, ‘but that’s hardly your fault. Come on—let’s get you to the station. I’ll carry your bags.’

‘Really…’ Still unsure, she grimaced. ‘It might be better in the long run if I just phoned for a cab.’

‘If you’re worried that I might have a tendency to behave in any way, shape or form like your disreputable boss then please let me assure you right now your concerns are groundless. I personally like my women willing, and I’ve never had to force one into my bed yet!’

Reddening at his frank confession, Maya shrugged and attempted a smile. ‘Okay…’

Outside, a watery sun had broken through the early-morning clouds, and on the gravel drive where Jonathan’s esteemed guests had parked a selection of gleaming and expensive vehicles Blaise Walker headed for a dazzling fire-engine-red classic open-topped MG sports car. Go-to-hell red, as her father had used to call that particular shade. Maya fielded the unexpected memory, but wasn’t quick enough to suppress the little knot of tension that squeezed inside her.

Instantly Blaise picked up on her disquiet. ‘Is anything the matter? Perhaps you were expecting something a little more sedate for your ride to the station?’

‘I had no expectations at all,’ Maya replied evenly. ‘I’m just grateful for the lift.’

He replaced his concern with a captivating grin, and the sight brought the same sense of wonder with it to Maya as reaching the end of a frightening rollercoaster ride and realising that you’d survived. A feeling of totally giddy exhilaration flooded her body. In all her twenty-five years on the planet she’d never witnessed a smile as dazzling or as wildly, extraordinarily beautiful as that.

‘You might want to find something to tie your hair back with,’ Blaise suggested now. ‘Could get a little windswept otherwise.’

Checking through her tote as he opened the rather compact boot in order to deposit her luggage, and seeing his own expensive bag ensconced there—was he leaving this morning too?—Maya produced a slender multi-coloured chiffon scarf and proceeded to tie her flowing dark hair up into a loosely fashioned ponytail.

‘That okay?’

‘You look adorable.’ Her companion grinned. ‘Get in and make yourself comfortable. The door’s unlocked.’

Folding her long-legged, slender, jean-clad frame into the passenger seat, Maya relaxed as far as she was able in the small space provided. Easing back into the softly luxurious leather seat, she silently admired the immaculate burr walnut veneer that covered the dash and centre console, and the amazing craftsmanship that had produced what her father had once informed her was one of the country’s bestselling sports cars ever.

He should have known, because when she was little he had owned two of them—one in red, like this, and another in black. Of course they were long gone now. Sold to help pay off some of the horrendous debts his wildly reckless lifestyle had accrued…

Hearing the lid of the boot slam, she turned to see Blaise lower his own tall, athletic, black-clad frame into the driver’s seat. Even though his legs were long, like hers, Maya was quietly amazed at how effortless he made every movement look…like a sublime symphony…every note in perfect accord and nothing remotely out of sync. A waft of quietly stirring aftershave imbued with sultry notes of sandalwood and musk assailed senses already tested to their limit by his charismatic presence. She tried to steel herself against it.

‘This is a concourse model, isn’t it?’ she commented, her fingertips lightly touching the walnut veneer on the dash.

‘Yes, it is. It’s an original model, but I paid a small fortune to get everything restored down to the last nut and bolt back to the way it was. You know about classic cars?’ her companion asked in surprise.

‘Not really. I just knew someone once who had a model like this.’ Maya stared out through the windscreen instead of into the disturbing blue eyes that seemed to be playing such havoc with her insides. The huskily soft chuckle beside her was equally disconcerting.

‘You probably know a lot more than you’re admitting, right? That’s okay…I don’t mind you being a woman of mystery. It simply makes me want to get to know you even more.’

He shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was even more alluring and beautiful dressed in jeans and a simple white cotton shirt than she’d been in that eyepopping black dress that had paid such mouthwatering homage to her curves last night. And that dress had caused him one hell of a sleepless night, he recalled now, his hands tightening on the MG’s steering wheel. Seeing Jonathan Faraday’s drunken paws all over her had also been a factor in ensuring Blaise’s sleep was fitful. He had been a breath away from laying the man out flat. Maya had clearly been frightened by Faraday’s clumsy inebriated attentions, and all his latent protective instincts towards women had rushed to the fore. She would have had only to indicate to him by a mere glance that she wanted him to step in and her licentious boss would have been nursing much more than a hangover this morning.

When he was about ten years old, Blaise’s actor father had struck his mother savagely across the face during one of their many bitter rows—an event that, after that shocking first time, had become a more or less regular feature of his childhood, he was sorry to say. Blaise had leapt on him, kicking and screaming. He had truly wanted to kill him at that moment. The same strong feelings of fury and resentment had roared through his bloodstream last night in the corridor, when he’d seen Jonathan behave like some despicable Neanderthal.

Now Blaise realised just how much the bewitching Maya Hayward had been on his mind since she’d inadvertently burst in on him in the drawing room last evening, leaving a trail of sexy perfume in her wake and stirring the kind of fantasies that would be strictly rated ‘adults only’. He definitely wanted to get to know her better. It had been quite some time since he’d enjoyed an exciting affair, and this could potentially be his most exciting liaison yet.

When he’d found her in the hall searching through the phonebook the pure raw desire that had coursed through him had been fierce enough to almost make him stumble. Now he realised Jonathan Faraday’s loss was definitely his gain, and he made no apology for the mercenary-sounding realisation whatsoever…

At some point during the journey it started to rain, and Blaise had no choice but to put the MG’s top up. His bewitching passenger didn’t even notice, however. To his surprise and amusement she’d fallen asleep—head on one side and her soft breathing making him feel strangely calm and peaceful—as he smoothly steered the vehicle onto the motorway heading towards London. Almost straight away he had decided he would forgo the ride to the station and take her all the way home instead. The faintest suggestion of a smile touched his lips. It had been worth staying at Faraday’s house last night to now have the opportunity that had opened up to him. The only possible impediment to him getting to know Maya more intimately, he mused, was if there was a man in her life already. The idea caused a totally disproportionate stab of jealousy to slice through his middle.

Glancing sidelong at her now, he let his gaze skim the arresting, fulsome curve of her breast nestling beneath crisp white cotton, and the long, slender length of her denim-clad thigh. The hot, sweet need that immediately surged through Blaise’s bloodstream made him clench his jaw to contain it, and it was only out of pure necessity and commonsense that he returned his full attention back to the road…

She felt warm and safe, and the sound of the rain pattering on the roof somehow gave her a wonderful sense of inviolability and protection. The experience was so delicious that Maya just wanted to stay there, eyes shut tight against the world, for a little while longer, reluctant to surface from sleep and even face the day at all…

But suddenly a strongly disturbing instinct made her peer out from beneath her drowsy lids—only to find that she wasn’t in her bed at home, but in a car, being driven on the motorway at quite a lick in the outside lane. Beside her was a man with the chiselled profile of a model. Her heart pounded in shock.