Reluctant Mistress

She explained as best she could, without giving too much of her personal life away, how Robert Buchanan had come to have his hands on her. ‘So in a way it was all your fault,’ Liza finished with a touch of humour to lighten the atmosphere.

To her relief Julia gave her a wide grin and her hazel eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘Just give me a nod and a wink if you need any more help in that direction.’

Liza held her hands up in mock defence. ‘Forget it. I’ve no interest in our esteemed employer other than work-wise, thank you.’

‘Says you,’ laughed Julia, swinging into her own office off Liza’s. She turned at the door. ‘Thanks for sticking up for us, Liza. I was at the dentist, by the way. I’ve a crown to prove it. I can’t account for Nigel’s lateness, but I am seeing him and I promise not to let our affair show in office hours. I like working here and I don’t want to lose my job.’

As Liza picked up the phone she wondered why she should feel so oddly apprehensive. It was the ‘says you’ comment from Julia that had unsettled her. She tapped out a code on the phone. She definitely hadn’t got a personal interest in Robert Buchanan, but how easily that sort of gossip could rear its ugly head!

* * *

‘You look worn out,’ Robert told her, striding into her office after everyone had left at the end of the day.

‘I feel it.’ She stretched wearily like a lazy cat, not at all offended by his comment on her appearance. ‘It’s the take-away again tonight; I haven’t the energy to boil an egg.’

‘Is that a hint for me to offer dinner?’ He smiled and plunged his hands into his trouser pockets.

‘No way,’ she laughed, crossing the room to pick up her jacket. ‘You’ve caused enough trouble today.’

He helped her into her jacket and she let him. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ he said.

‘Nothing,’ she told him lightly. No point in repeating gossip; it would only cause trouble for Julia, and things had gone smoothly all afternoon. ‘Take a look at this.’ She picked up a sheet of paper from her desk, diverting his attention back to work. ‘I had a word with Nigel earlier on and it worked wonders. He’s got a double-page spread from Citroën, to be repeated in five of our mags.’

Robert raised an impressed brow as he glanced at the paper. ‘Not confirmed, though,’ he murmured.

Liza laughed. ‘Don’t be such a pessimist. I’ve dealt with them before. They won’t pull out.’

‘So it was your idea he approached them?’

‘Partly. I had a word with him about not reaching his targets and gave him a list of people I’d dealt with in the past, to sort of encourage him on. It worked.’ She picked up her handbag. She was pleased Nigel had acted on it, almost immediately too, and was pleased with herself for not taking Robert’s advice to throw him out.

‘You might as well have done the job yourself. What’s the point of keeping a dog and barking yourself?’

She was surprised at the sudden frown creasing his brow. To her astonishment she realised that Mr all-powerful Buchanan was looking pretty whacked-out himself. So he was human after all.

‘I didn’t do the job myself; I offered some guidance, that’s all. That’s what I’m here for, Robert,’ she told him levelly. ‘It’s my job to oversee the advertising-sales operation.’ She wasn’t getting through to him. He still looked doubtful. ‘I gave him a verbal warning about Julia too,’ she added. ‘I’m sure we won’t have any more trouble from either of them again. By the way, she was at the dentist.’

Robert swept his fingers through his jet hair. ‘I would rather have got rid of them. Can’t say I’ve taken to either of them.’

‘You don’t have to like all your staff, do you?’

Robert held the door open for her and they headed for the lifts.

‘I’d like to think it was possible,’ he murmured. ‘But I have an odd feeling about them.’

‘I think you’re over-reacting,’ she told him, but said nothing about her own doubts, partly because she couldn’t quite decipher them herself. Just an unease that was there, but wasn’t in a way. Fatigue shrugged away the thoughts.

‘If you won’t join me for dinner, at least let Carl drop you off home. I’m on my way to Chelsea so it’s no problem.’

Liza was grateful for the offer and accepted it graciously. There was little conversation in the back of the limousine, no need for idle chat. Three weeks together and they had slid into an easy relationship. Liza mused on those thoughts as the car moved sluggishly through rush-hour traffic. She smiled too—Robert had dozed off, and it was nice to think that he wouldn’t have dreamt of doing such a thing in front of any of his other staff. Apart from that small altercation today they were getting on extremely well.

Carl came off the Kings Road and minutes later they pulled up outside a bijou town house in a small square.

‘Mr Buchanan, sir. We’re here.’

Robert stirred, adjusted his navy suit jacket and got out. ‘Thanks Carl; you’re off for the night, aren’t you? Just drop Miss Kay off and that will be all. Goodnight, Liza.’

He turned and sprinted up the front steps of the house, and the door opened wide, spilling warm light out on to the street. A woman greeted Robert Buchanan, a woman in silhouette. She turned, and light flooded her face and hair. She was stunning, and obviously so delighted to see Robert that Liza felt like a voyeur as she watched them embrace each other and then, locked together, turn into the seclusion of the house.

‘That’s Lady Victoria Desprite,’ Carl volunteered as he pulled away from the kerb. ‘Quite something, isn’t she?’

Liza felt as if her body had turned to granite, and yet her brain was functioning, buzzing wildly, uncontrollably. She couldn’t answer Carl, couldn’t comment on the beautiful woman who had such an impact on her heart.

‘Actually, miss, don’t think I’m getting fresh or anything, but you’re not dissimilar, both got that lovely red hair...’

Though Battersea was but a stone’s throw from Chelsea, the drive seemed to take an eternity. Liza wanted the security of her home, needed it badly. She was afraid, terribly afraid of this strange feeling inside her. What was it? Hurt? Jealousy? Perhaps disappointment that he hadn’t insisted on taking her out to dinner? It had been a throw-away invitation, not meant to be taken seriously; after all, that lovely redhead had been expecting him. So what would have happened if she had said ‘Yes, dinner sounds lovely; thank you for asking me—let’s go!’ Would he have cancelled Lady Victoria?

‘God, I’m jealous!’ she cried after slamming her front door after her and slumping back against it breathlessly. ‘I can’t be! It’s bloody impossible!’

Yes, it was impossible, she decided as she soaked in the bath later. Impossible! She was tired, irritable with work today. That business with Nigel and Julia had rattled her. She bit her lip forcibly. She didn’t, she wouldn’t allow her emotions to go one step further. She liked Robert Buchanan, liked working for him. He had a reputation with women and she wasn’t about to appear on his notch-belt of conquests! Suddenly she smiled to herself. Who was she kidding? He wasn’t in the least bit interested in her! Three weeks virtually living in his pocket and not once had he stepped out of line. So what was she worried about? Closing her eyes and sliding down under the foam, she murmured, ‘Nothing, nothing at all.’

CHAPTER THREE

IT SEEMED a cruel coincidence that a gossip columnist ran Robert Buchanan’s relationship with the lovely Lady Victoria as his leader for the next day in Julia’s newspaper.

Julia couldn’t wait to tell Liza. She tossed the paper down on Liza’s desk with a whoop.

‘Brilliant, isn’t he?’ she cried. ‘Don’t you just love all this? Our boss, swanning around with society’s most eligible lady. Look, there’s a picture of them together at Krystals night-club last week. The papers reckon it’s the real thing for them both this time. They’ve both got a hefty track record and...’

Liza pushed the paper aside and studied a sheet of sales figures and tried not to hear any more. Gossip. The newspapers thrived on it. Part of her felt sorry for Robert—hadn’t he told her he was a confirmed bachelor? The rest of her decided it served him right for allowing the Press to hound him so. After all, he’d admitted he enjoyed his publicity. Damn! What did she care anyway?

She changed the subject, and subtly turned Julia’s attention to her work. Julia soon forgot Robert Buchanan’s love-life, and ploughed through a pile of letters Liza dictated to her. Liza, to her profound irritation, found she wasn’t so easily distracted. Throughout the morning she kept bringing back to mind the embrace she had witnessed on the doorstep of that smart house in Chelsea. Fortunately, pressure of work in the afternoon forced all personal thoughts from her head.

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