A Spanish Affair

She could hear the sound of voices outside the building and surmised they must all be standing in the little yard, and, after rising from her chair, she peeped cautiously through the blind at the window.

Matt de Capistrano and his secretary were just getting into a chauffeur-driven silver Mercedes, and even from this distance he was intimidating. Not that he had intimidated her, Georgie told herself strongly in the next moment, not a bit of it, but he was one of those men who was uncomfortably, in-your-face male. There was a sort of dark power about him, an aggressive virility that was impossible to ignore, and it was…Georgie searched for the right word and found it. Disturbing. He was disturbing. But he was leaving now and with any luck she would never set eyes on him again.

And then she suddenly realised what she was thinking and offered up a quick urgent prayer of repentance. Robert’s whole business, his livelihood, everything hung on Matt de Capistrano giving him this contract; how could she—for one second—wish he didn’t get it? But she hadn’t, she hadn’t wished that, she reassured herself frantically the next moment, just that she wouldn’t see Matt de Capistrano again. But if Robert got the job—by some miracle—of course she’d have to see him if she continued working here. ‘Oh…’ She sighed again, loudly and irritably. The man had got her in such a state she didn’t know what she was thinking!

‘Well!’ Robert opened the door and he was smiling. ‘We might, we just might be back in business again.’

‘Really?’ Georgie forgot all about her dislike of Matt de Capistrano as the naked hope in her brother’s face touched her heart. ‘He’s going to help?’

‘Maybe.’ Robert was clearly trying to keep a hold on his optimism but he couldn’t disguise his relief as he said, ‘He’s not dismissed it out of hand anyway. It all depends on that phone call tonight and then we’ll know one way or the other. He’s going to make some enquiries. I can’t blame him; I’d do the same in his shoes.’

‘Enquiries?’ Georgie raised fine arched eyebrows. ‘With whom?’

‘Anyone he damn well wants,’ Robert answered drily. ‘I’ve given him a host of names and numbers—the bank manager, my accountant, firms we’ve dealt with recently and so on—and told him I’ll ring them and tell them to let him have any information he wants. This is my last hope, Georgie. If the man tells me to jump through hoops I’ll turn cartwheels as well for good measure.’

‘Oh, Robert.’ She didn’t want him to lose everything, she didn’t, but to be rescued by Matt de Capistrano! And it was only in that moment she fully acknowledged the extent of the antagonism which had leapt into immediate life the moment she had laid eyes on the darkly handsome face. She didn’t know him, she’d barely exchanged more than a dozen words with him, and yet she disliked him more intensely than anyone else she had ever met. Well, almost anyone. Her thoughts touched on Glen before she closed that particular door in her mind.

‘So, cross your fingers and your toes and anything else it’s physically possible to cross,’ Robert said more quietly now, a nervous note creeping in as they stared at each other. ‘If it’s no we’re down the pan, Georgie; even the house is mortgaged up to the hilt so the kids won’t even have a roof over their heads.’

‘They will.’ Georgie’s voice was fierce. ‘We’ll make sure of that and we’ll all stay together too.’ But a little grotty flat somewhere wouldn’t be the same as Robert’s pleasant semi with its big garden and the tree-house he had built for the children a couple of years ago. They had lost their mother and all the security she had embodied; were they going to have to lose their home too?

‘Maybe.’ And then as Georgie eyed him determinedly Robert smiled as he said, ‘Definitely! But let’s hope it won’t come to uprooting the kids, Georgie. Look, get the bank on the phone for me first, would you? I need to put them and everyone else in the know and explain they’ll be getting a call from de Capistrano’s people. I don’t want anyone else to tread on his very wealthy and powerful toes.’

Georgie looked sharply at Robert at that, and was relieved to see he was grinning at her. ‘I’m sorry about what I said,’ she said weakly. ‘I didn’t know he was there. I nearly died when I saw him.’

‘You and me both.’ Robert shook his head slowly. ‘I’d forgotten there’s never a dull moment around you, little sister.’

‘Oh, you.’

The rest of the day sped by in a flurry of phone-calls, faxes and hastily typed letters, and by the end of the afternoon Georgie was sick of the very sound of Matt de Capistrano’s name. Yesterday her life had been difficult—juggling her new role as surrogate mum, cook and housekeeper, Robert’s secretary and shoulder to cry on wasn’t easy—but today a tall, obnoxious stranger had made it downright impossible, she thought crossly just before five o’clock. Robert had been like a cat on a hot tin roof all day and neither of them had been able to eat any lunch.

One thing had solidified through the hectic afternoon, though. If Matt de Capistrano bailed them out she was leaving here as soon as she could fix up a good secretary for Robert. She could get heaps more money working at temping anyway, and every little bit would help the family budget for the time being. And temping meant she could be there for the children if either of them were ill, without worrying Robert would be struggling at the office, and she could pick and choose when she worked. She might even be able to do a little freelance advertising work if she took a few days out to tote her CV and examples of her artwork designs round the area.

Her previous job, as a designer working on tight deadlines and at high speed for an independent design studio situated north of Watford had been on the other side of London—Robert’s house and business being in Sevenoaks—but there were other studios and other offices.

Whatever, she would remove herself from any chance of bumping into Matt de Capistrano. Georgie nodded to the thought, her hands pausing on the keyboard of her word processor as she gazed into space, only to jump violently as the telephone on her desk rang shrilly.

She glanced at her wristwatch as she reached for the receiver. Five o’clock. Exactly. It was him! She ignored the ridiculous churning in her stomach and breathed deeply, her voice steady and cool as she said, ‘Millett’s Builders. How can I help you?’

‘Miss Millett?’ The deep voice trickled over her taut nerves gently but with enough weight to make them twang slightly. ‘Matt de Capistrano. Is your brother there?’

‘Yes, Mr de Capistrano, he’s been waiting for your call,’ Georgie said briskly.

‘Thank you.’

Boy, with a voice like that he’d be dynamite on the silver screen—Sean Connery eat your heart out! Georgie thought flusteredly as she buzzed Robert and put the call through. Deep and husky with the faint accent making it heart-racingly sexy— And then she caught her errant ramblings firmly, more than a little horrified at the way her mind had gone. He was a hateful man, despicable. End of story.

She heard the telephone go down in the other office and when, a moment later, the interconnecting door opened with a flourish she knew. Even before Robert spoke his beaming face told her what the outcome of Matt de Capistrano’s enquiries had been. They were in business.

CHAPTER TWO

‘WE MEET again, Miss Millett.’ In spite of the fact that Georgie had been steeling herself all morning for this encounter, her head snapped up so sharply she felt a muscle in her neck twang.

A full week had elapsed since that day in Robert’s office when she had first seen Matt de Capistrano, and it was now the first day of May and a beautiful sunny morning outside the building. Inside Georgie felt the temperature had just dropped about ten degrees as she met the icy grey eyes watching her so intently from the doorway.

‘Good morning, Mr de Capistrano.’ There was no designer suit today; he was dressed casually in black denim jeans and a pale cream shirt and if anything the dark aura surrounding him was enhanced tenfold. Georgie knew he and Robert were going on site for most of the day, along with Matt de Capistrano’s architects and a whole host of other people, but she hadn’t bargained for what the open-necked shirt and black jeans which sat snugly on lean male hips would do to her equilibrium. She wanted to swallow nervously but she just knew the grey gaze would pick up the action, and so she said, a little throatily, ‘Robert is waiting for you if you’d like to go through?’ as she indicated her brother’s office with a wave of her hand.

‘Thank you, but I wish to have a word with you first.’

Oh, help! He was going to come down on her like a ton of bricks for her rudeness a week ago. He held all the cards and he knew it. He could make their lives hell if he wanted. Georgie raised her small chin a fraction and her voice betrayed none of her inward agitation as she looked into the dark attractive face and said quietly, ‘Yes, Mr de Capistrano?’

Her little cubby-hole, which was barely big enough to hold her desk and chair and the filing cabinet, and barely warranted the grand name of an office, was covered by one male stride, and then he was standing at the side of her as he said, ‘Firstly, I do not think it appropriate we stand on ceremony with the Mr de Capistrano and Miss Millett now we are working together, yes?’

In spite of his perfect English he sounded very foreign. Georgie just had to take that swallow before she could say, ‘If that’s what you want, Mr de Capistrano.’

‘It is,’ he affirmed softly. ‘And the name is Matt.’

The grey eyes were so dark as to be almost black, Georgie thought inconsequentially, and surrounded by such thick black lashes it seemed a shame to waste them on a man. And he seemed even bigger than she remembered. ‘Then please call me Georgie,’ she managed politely.

He inclined his head briefly. ‘And the second thing is that I find myself in need of your assistance today, Georgie,’ he continued smoothly. ‘My secretary, Pepita, has unfortunately had a slight accident this morning and twisted her ankle. Perhaps you would take her place on site and take notes for me?’

Oh, no. No, no, no. She’d never survive a day in his company without making a fool of herself or something. She couldn’t, she really couldn’t do this! If nothing else this confirmed she was doing absolutely the right thing in trying to find a new secretary to take her place for Robert.

Georgie called on every bit of composure she could muster and said steadily, ‘Perhaps you had better ask Robert about that. It would mean closing the office here, of course, which is not ideal. His men are finishing work on a shop we’ve been renovating and are expected to call in some time this afternoon, and there’s the phone to answer and so on.’

‘You have an answering machine?’ Matt enquired pleasantly.

‘Yes, but—’

‘And your presence will only be required during the discussions with the architect and planner. After that you may return here and perhaps type up the notes for me,’ he continued silkily.

Oh, hell! It would be today his precious secretary decided to twist her ankle, Georgie thought helplessly. She doubted if Matt de Capistrano would be around much in the normal run of things; a wealthy tycoon like him had his fingers in a hundred and one pies at any one time, and within a few weeks she would hopefully be out of here anyway. This was just the sort of situation she’d been trying to avoid when she’d decided to find a replacement secretary for Robert. ‘Well, like I said, you’d best discuss this with Robert,’ she said faintly.

‘And if Robert agrees? I can tell him you have no objection, yes?’ he persisted.

No, no and triple no. ‘Of course, Mr—Matt,’ Georgie said calmly.

‘Thank you, Georgie.’

His accent gave her name emphasis on the last ‘e’ and lifted it into something quite different from the mundane, and she was just coping with what that did to her nerves when the hard gaze narrowed as he said conversationally, ‘You do not like me, Georgie.’

It was a statement, not a question, but even if it had been otherwise Georgie would have been unable to answer him immediately such was the state of her surprise.

‘This is not a problem,’ he continued smoothly as she stared at him wide-eyed. His gaze rested briefly on the dark gold of her hair, which hung to her shoulders in a silky bob, before he added, ‘Unless you make it one, of course.’

‘I… That is—’ She was spluttering, she realised suddenly, and with the knowledge came a flood of angry adrenaline that strengthened her voice as her mind became clearer. If he thought she was some pathetic little doormat who would let him walk all over her just because he was bailing them out, he’d got another think coming! She was no one’s whipping boy. ‘I have no intention of making it one,’ she answered smartly.

‘This is good.’

Georgie’s soft mouth tightened further as she caught what she was sure was the hint of laughter in the dark voice, although his face was betraying no amusement whatsoever, and she struggled to keep her tone even and cool as she said, ‘In fact, I don’t expect to be working for Robert much longer, actually. It’s far better that he has someone else working for him here so that I can divide my time between looking after the children and temping work. So I doubt our paths will cross after that.’

To her absolute horror he sat down on a corner of the desk, his body warmth reaching into her air space as he said quietly, ‘Ah, yes, the children. How old are they? Are they coping?’

That same expensive and utterly delicious smell she’d caught wafting off the hard tanned body before was doing wicked things to her hormones, but Georgie was pleased to note nothing of her inward turmoil showed in her voice as she answered evenly, ‘The twins are seven, coming up for eight, and they are coping pretty well on the whole. They have lots of friends and their teacher at school at the moment is actually Sandra’s—their mother’s—best friend, so she is being an absolute brick.’

‘And your brother?’ he asked quietly, his head tilting as he moved a fraction closer which made her heartbeat quicken. ‘How is he doing?’

Georgie cleared her throat. There were probably a million and one men who could sit on her desk all day if they so wished without her turning a hair and without one stray thought coming into her mind. Matt de Capistrano was not one of them.

‘Robert is naturally devastated,’ she said even more quietly than he had spoken. ‘Sandra was his world. They’d known each other since they were children and after they married they even worked together, so their lives were intrinsically linked.’

‘I see.’ He nodded slowly, and Georgie wondered if he was aware of just how sexy he looked when he narrowed his eyes like that. ‘Such devotion is unusual, one might even say exceptional in this day and age of supermarket marriage.’

‘Supermarket marriage?’ she asked bewilderedly.

‘One samples one brand for a while before purchasing another and then another,’ he drawled in cynical explanation. ‘The lawyers get fatter than anyone, of course.’

‘Not all marriages are like that,’ Georgie objected steadily. ‘Some people fall in love and it lasts a lifetime.’

The grey eyes fastened even more piercingly on her face and now the metallic glint was mocking. ‘Don’t tell me you are a romantic,’ he said derisively.

She had been, once. ‘No, I am not a romantic.’ Her voice was cool now, and dismissive. ‘But I know what Sandra and Robert had was real, that’s all.’

She couldn’t read the expression on his face now, but as he opened his mouth to speak Robert chose that moment to open the door of his office, his face breaking into a warm smile as he said, ‘I thought I heard voices out here. Come on in, Matt. There’s just a couple of points I’d like to discuss before we leave.’

Whew! As the door closed behind the two men Georgie slumped in her chair for a moment, one hand smoothing a wisp of silky hair from her flushed face. Something gave her the impression this was going to be one of those days!

She had been banking on using the time the office was quiet with Robert on site to organize the arrangements for the twins’ birthday party. She and Robert had suddenly realised the night before that the children’s birthday was only a couple of weeks away and neither of them had given it a thought. Sandra had always made a big deal of their birthday and Georgie wanted to keep everything as normal as she could in the circumstances, so—Robert being unable to face the thought of the house being invaded by family and friends and loads of screaming infants—she had thought of booking a hall somewhere and hiring a bouncy castle and a magician and the full works.

The buzzer on her desk interrupted further musing. ‘Georgie?’ Robert’s voice sounded strained. ‘Could you organise coffee, make it three cups, would you, and bring in your notebook? I want you to sit in on this.’

What now? Georgie thought as she quickly fetched out the best mugs and a packet of the delicious chocolate caramel biscuits her brother loved. He had lost a great deal of weight in the last months and she had been trying to feed him up since she’d come home.

Once the coffee was ready she straightened her pencil-slim skirt and demure, buttoned-up-to-the-collar blouse and steeled herself for the moment she faced those piercing grey eyes again. Since her first day of working for Robert she had always dressed well, bearing in mind that she was the first impression people received when they walked through the door, but today she had taken extra care and it was only in this moment she acknowledged the fact. And it irritated her. Irritated and annoyed her. She didn’t want to care what Matt de Capistrano thought of her. He was just a brief fleeting shadow in her life, totally unimportant. He was.

The brief and totally unimportant shadow was sitting with one knee over the other and muscled arms stretched along the back of the big comfy visitor’s seat in Robert’s office when she entered, and immediately her body’s reaction to the overt male pose forced her to recognise her own awareness of him. Georgie was even more ruffled when her innate honesty emphasised that his flagrant masculinity was all the more overwhelming for its casual unconsciousness, and after serving the men their coffee and offering them the plate of biscuits she sat down herself, folding her hands neatly in her lap after placing her own coffee within easy reach. She was not going to fidget or gabble or react in any way to Matt de Capistrano, not if it killed her.

‘So…’ Robert’s voice was still strained. ‘To recap, you feel Mains and Jenson will have to go?’ he said to Matt, referring to the two elderly bricklayers who had been with Robert since he first started the firm fourteen years ago.

‘What?’ Georgie forgot all about the non-reaction as she reared up in her seat. ‘George and Walter?’ She had known the two men even before she had come under Robert’s wing and they had always treated her like a favourite granddaughter, as had their wives. The first summer she had come to live with Robert and Sandra, when she’d been bitterly grieving for her parents, Walter and his wife had taken her away to France for two weeks to try and take her mind off her parents’ untimely death and they had been utterly wonderful to her. ‘You can’t! You can’t get rid of them.’

‘Excuse me?’ The steel-grey eyes had narrowed into slits of light and he was frowning.

‘They’re like family,’ Georgie said passionately.

‘Family’s fine,’ Matt said coolly. ‘Inefficient employees are something else. Walter Jenson is well past retiring age and George Mains turned sixty-five a year ago.’

‘They are excellent bricklayers!’ Her green eyes were flashing sparks now.

‘They are too slow,’ he said dismissively, ‘and this is not a charitable concern for geriatrics. Your brother must have lost thousands over the last few years by carrying men like Mains and Jenson. I’ve no doubt of their experience or the quality of their work, but Jenson was off sick more than he was at work over the last twelve months—severe arthritis, isn’t it?’ he asked in a brief aside to Robert, who nodded unhappily. ‘And Mains’s unfortunate stroke last year has slowed him up to the point where I believe he actually represents something of a danger to himself and others, especially when working on scaffolding. If you drop something from any sort of height you could kill or maim anyone beneath.’

‘I don’t believe this!’ She glared at him angrily. ‘They are craftsmen, the pair of them.’

‘They are old craftsmen and it’s time to let some young blood take over,’ Matt said ruthlessly, ‘however much it hurts.’

‘And of course it really hurts you, doesn’t it?’ Georgie bit out furiously, ignoring Robert’s frantic hand-signals as she jerked to her feet. ‘Two dear ol—’ She caught herself as the grey gaze sharpened. ‘Two dear men who have been the rocks on which this business was built just thrown on to the scrap heap. What reward is that for all their faithfulness to Robert and this family? But faithfulness means nothing to men like you, does it? You’ve made your millions, you’re sitting pretty, but you’re still greedy for more and if more means men like Walter and George get sacrificed along the way then so be it.’

‘Have you quite finished?’ He was still sitting in the relaxed manner of earlier but the grey gaze was lethal and pointed straight at Georgie’s flushed face. ‘Then sit down, Miss Millett.’

‘I don’t think—’

‘Sit down!’

The bark made her jump and in spite of herself Georgie felt her legs obey him.

‘Firstly, your brother has made it clear just what he owes these two employees and they will be retired with a very generous package,’ Matt ground out coldly. ‘I think, as does Robert if he speaks the truth, that this will not come as a surprise to them; neither will it be wholly displeasing. Secondly, you talk of sacrifice when you are prepared to jeopardise the rest of your brother’s employees’ livelihoods for the sake of two elderly men who should have retired years ago?

‘It is human nature for the rest of the men to tailor their speed to the slowest worker when there is a set wage at the end of each week. Your brother’s workers have been underachieving for years and a week ago they were in danger of reaping their reward, every one of them. If Robert had gone bankrupt everyone would have been a loser. There is no place for weakness in industry; you should know that.’

‘And kindness?’ She continued to glare at him even though a tiny part of her brain was pressing her to recognise there was more than an element of truth in what he had said. ‘What about kindness and gratitude? How do you think they’ll feel at being told they’re too old?’

‘They know the dates on their birth certificates as well as anyone,’ he said icily, ‘so I doubt it will come as the surprise you seem to foresee.’

He folded his arms over his chest, settling more comfortably in his seat as he studied her stiff body and tense face through narrowed eyes.

Georgie didn’t respond immediately, more because she was biting back further hot words as the full portent of what she had yelled at him registered than because she was intimidated by his coldness. And then she said, her voice shaking slightly, ‘I think what you are demanding Robert do is awful.’

‘Then don’t think.’ He sat forward in his seat, draining his mug with one swallow and turning to Robert as he said, ‘I’d suggest you take this opportunity to change the men over to piece work. With a set goal each week and good bonuses for extra achievement you’ll soon sort out the wheat from the chaff, and you’ve limped on long enough.’

Georgie looked at her brother, willing him to stand up to this tyrant, but Robert merely nodded thoughtfully. ‘I’d been thinking along the same lines myself,’ he agreed quietly.

‘Good, that’s settled, then,’ Matt said imperturbably. ‘Now, if you’d like to get Georgie to note those few points that need checking on site we’ll be on our way. Have you got any other shoes than those?’ he added, looking at her wafer-thin high heels which she had never worn to the office before but which went perfectly with the charcoal skirt she was wearing. They also showed her legs—which Georgie considered her best feature, hating her small bust and too-slender hips—off to their best advantage, but she’d tried to excuse that thought all morning.