Taken by the Boss: His Very Personal Assistant / In the Banker's Bed / The Takeover Bid

‘That’s up to you, of course.’ Marcus shrugged. ‘But I should warn you that I have no intention of letting you upset Kit.’

Kit could have wept at the scene that was unfolding in front of her eyes, couldn’t believe this was happening.

‘I believe that at the moment both you gentlemen are upsetting Kit,’ Desmond intervened, at the same time putting a protective hand on her shoulder. ‘I suggest we leave the two of you to sort this out in private.’

‘That’s fine by me,’ Marcus snapped, his icy gaze not leaving Mike’s angrily flushed face.

‘And me,’ Mike concurred, looking at Marcus with intense dislike. ‘If anything, you’re even more arrogant than your girlfriend,’ he told Marcus.

Kit gasped. ‘I told you, I’m not—’

‘Leave them to it, my dear,’ Desmond advised, turning her away from the other two men and back into the throng of the party. ‘Don’t you know better than to try to come between two males fighting over territory?’ he chided, reaching out to take a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and hand it to her. ‘Drink some of that,’ he encouraged. ‘It will make you feel better.’

Kit didn’t feel anything was going to succeed in doing that as she saw Marcus and Mike leave the house by the French doors. Doors that very firmly closed behind them!

‘They’ll be fine,’ Desmond assured her laughingly. ‘I believe Marcus was a champion boxer when he was at Cambridge. Unless, of course, it’s Mike Reynolds you’re worried about?’ He raised amused brows as the idea suddenly occurred to him.

‘Not in the least,’ Kit told him firmly, sipping her champagne agitatedly. ‘Tell me, does hitting another man actually ever solve anything?’

‘Not usually, no,’ Desmond confirmed. ‘But it makes you feel a hell of a lot better!’ he said with relish.

Kit laughed too. It was impossible not to, this man’s expression was so full of boyish mischief. In fact, it was easy to see, when he was amusingly charming like this, exactly why Desmond had been married three times.

‘All the things you’ve heard about me are true,’ Desmond said, those shrewd blue eyes seeming to read her thoughts exactly. ‘Except one of them,’ he added softly, suddenly serious. ‘I don’t intend letting my third wife divorce me. She’s the love of my life,’ he told Kit quietly as she looked at him enquiringly.

It was too much on top of everything else that had happened to her this evening; Kit’s eyes filled with sudden tears at the utter desolation she detected in the gentleness of his voice.

‘It does happen, you know,’ Desmond told her candidly. ‘The so-called biggest of womanizers, when they find the right woman, will never look at another one.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She bowed her head, searching through her small evening bag for the tissue she had placed in there earlier. ‘I know I’m being silly. It’s just—’

‘You’re falling in love with Marcus,’ he said knowingly.

Kit raised her head to look around them worriedly, concerned that someone might hear their conversation, reassured when she saw that no one was listening. She turned back to Desmond. ‘Of course I’m not falling in love with Marcus—’

‘Of course you aren’t,’ Desmond echoed her words teasingly. ‘In the same way I’m not still in love with my wife.’

Kit gave a rueful smile. ‘No, I really mean it—’

‘So do I,’ Desmond encouraged sympathetically. ‘Ah, the victor returns,’ he said with satisfaction after a glance over her shoulder. ‘No doubt battle-scarred but victorious!’

Kit was almost afraid to turn round and see which one of the two men had just re-entered the house, Marcus or Mike. Not that she thought for a moment that it wouldn’t be Marcus; there was just no comfort in it, knowing how furious he was with her.

She sighed, the tingling sensation she felt down her spine telling her that it was indeed Marcus who had just re-entered the house. And that he was making his way across the room to where they stood talking. ‘I shall have to leave, of course—’

‘You most certainly will not,’ Desmond told her firmly, his hand once again clasping her shoulder. ‘You’re the only thing that’s making this whole weekend bearable!’

‘How touching,’ drawled that all-too-familiar voice. ‘Really, Kit,’ Marcus said with hard derision as he moved to stand beside her, his shrewd gaze having taken in Desmond’s proprietary hold on her, ‘you’re turning into quite the femme fatale!’

‘She is a femme fatale,’ Desmond told him happily. ‘Beautiful. With a delightful sense of humour. Sensuous. Deliciously—calm down, Marcus,’ he ordered as the younger man made an impatient movement. ‘You can’t go around fighting every man Kit so much as talks to, you know.’

Poor Desmond had this all so wrong, it would have been laughable if it weren’t so tragic. She was falling in love with Marcus. But he certainly didn’t feel the same way about her, despite his defence of her just now. And she very much doubted that he appreciated the suggestion that he did!

‘Ah, to add to the intrigue, the lovely Andrea returns,’ Desmond observed speculatively as Andrea Revel came back into the room.

The beautiful, sensuous, delicious Andrea Revel, Kit acknowledged heavily, knowing that the other woman really was everything that she wasn’t herself. Andrea also looked stunningly attractive this evening in a bright red silk sheath of a dress that clung to her voluptuous curves. A fact she was obviously completely aware of as she strolled across the room to rejoin Derek Boyes.

Frankly, Kit had had enough of all of them for one evening!

‘I’m afraid I have a headache.’ She spoke to Desmond Hayes, deliberately keeping her gaze averted from the broodingly silent Marcus, one quick glance having shown her that, despite what Desmond had said, he showed no visible battle scars. But the fact that Mike Reynolds hadn’t reappeared seemed to say that Desmond was right about which man had been the victor. ‘If you will excuse me?’ she added for politeness’ sake only, not waiting for a response from either man before she turned and hurriedly left the room, looking to neither left nor right as she did so. She certainly didn’t want to see Catherine Grainger again before she went to bed!

What a disaster of a weekend this was turning out to be! There wasn’t a single person here that she wanted to be with. Although Desmond Hayes had been something of a surprise these last few minutes, not at all what she had expected. Surprisingly, she actually found herself liking him. He—

‘Oh, no, you don’t!’ Marcus grated gruffly, grasping the bedroom door as Kit would have closed it behind her.

Kit turned to look at him apprehensively. She had been completely unaware of him following her up the stairs—not surprising really, when her thoughts had been so full of the misery she had endured the last couple of hours!

‘Let’s go inside,’ Marcus said, not waiting for her answer before moving past her into the bedroom.

Kit followed slowly, shutting the door quietly behind her, sensing his reproving gaze on her before she even looked at him. But once she had looked at him, she wished that she hadn’t, the grimness of his voice more than reflected in his harshly set features!

‘Well, you’ve certainly made a spectacle of yourself this evening, haven’t you?’ he said scornfully, thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets as he stared across the room at her.

‘I have?’ She gasped her indignation, feeling her anger starting to rise. ‘I’m not the one who spent fifteen minutes out of the room with one woman and then came back and started acting all proprietorial about another one!’ She glared at him accusingly, well past the mood of caution. And if Marcus sacked her for her outspokenness—fine! She really wasn’t sure how they were going to continue to work together after this weekend, anyway.

‘I’m flattered that you actually took note of the time,’ he drawled.

‘I didn’t,’ she told him swiftly. ‘Mike was the one who noticed Andrea following you out of the room, and Desmond remarked on her return.’ She threw her evening bag down on the bed. ‘I couldn’t give a damn what you do!’ Her eyes sparkled deeply grey in her anger. ‘Or, in fact, who you do it with!’

Marcus was very still, only a nerve pulsing in his jaw to tell of his own fury. ‘Couldn’t you?’ he prompted softly.

‘No!’ she assured him decisively. ‘As for going outside with Mike Reynolds—! Did the two of you actually have a fight?’ She still found that whole scene unbelievable.

‘Nothing so crude, Kit,’ Marcus responded tersely. ‘There are far subtler ways of dealing with a man like Mike Reynolds than resorting to physical violence. But how the hell do you even know a man like him? He said something about the two of you being involved seven months ago?’ His eyes had narrowed to blue slits.

Kit gave a frustrated shake of her head. ‘I thought you said you had read my résumé?’

‘So I have,’ Marcus confirmed with a perplexed frown. ‘But what does that have to do with—?’ He broke off abruptly, grimacing self-derisively as he momentarily closed his eyes.

‘Exactly,’ she bit out disgustedly, knowing the truth had finally dawned. ‘Mike Reynolds is a prime example of what is meant by sexual harassment in the workplace. I utterly detest the man,’ she finished with a shudder of distaste.

‘Perhaps I should have hit him, after all,’ Marcus muttered.

‘Not on my account, no,’ Kit assured him hastily.

He gave a ragged sigh. ‘It seems I owe you an apology.’

‘Accepted,’ Kit said gruffly. ‘Now would you please leave my bedroom?’ She really had had quite enough for one day!

He drew in a harsh breath. ‘One way or another, this has been—quite an enlightening evening, hasn’t it?’

For whom? It certainly wasn’t anything that Kit would want to live through again.

‘Perhaps,’ she returned noncommittally. ‘But in the circumstances, I think it might be best if I were to leave here tomorrow.’

Before anything else disastrous happened!

‘Because of Mike Reynolds?’ Marcus queried. ‘I believe he’s leaving himself in the morning.’

Her eyes widened. ‘Your doing?’

‘My doing,’ Marcus confirmed levelly.

Okay, so the Mike Reynolds problem might have been dealt with. But that still left Catherine Grainger…

‘I would still rather leave,’ Kit told him determinedly, knowing it was for the best.

Marcus paused for a moment. ‘Because of my behaviour this evening?’ He grimaced. ‘First I accuse you of disloyalty, then I question your friendship with Mike Reynolds!’

‘Partly because of that,’ she answered cautiously.

He looked at her directly. ‘But also because…?’ he prompted.

Because a part of her had felt pleased at the way he had defended her against Mike Reynolds, and the fact that he hadn’t seemed to like Desmond Hayes talking to her, either. But, ultimately, she had known it wasn’t real, that it was only male pride on Marcus’s part. To remain here for the rest of the weekend, posing as the woman in his life, would only give her false hopes.

She forced a smile. ‘I just think it’s for the best. Besides,’ she went on, ‘I’m sure Miss Revel will be only too pleased to keep you company.’

‘And if it isn’t Andrea that I want to keep me company?’

He was suddenly standing much too close for comfort, and Kit was easily able to feel the heat of his body, the warmth of his breath stirring the loose tendrils of hair at her temples.

She swallowed hard, at the same time forcing herself not to take a step backwards, determined not to let him see the effect his closeness was having on her. ‘But we both know that it is,’ she persisted.

‘Do we?’

‘Yes,’ she said firmly, her eyes meeting his steadily. ‘You said as much when we arrived here and you mentioned not making a scene.’

‘What makes you think I was referring to Andrea…?’

Well, he certainly couldn’t have been referring to her because of the friendly way Mike Reynolds had talked to her—could he…?

Marcus continued to look at her for several long seconds, finally taking a step backwards. ‘How about we discuss this again in the morning?’

‘How about we don’t?’ she came back heavily.

To her surprise, Marcus grinned, a completely humorous grin that warmed his eyes and curved his lips over even white teeth.

‘It certainly is different being away on business with you rather than Lewis!’

Kit’s own mouth quirked, relieved that the tension between them seemed to have broken. Although that didn’t change her resolve to put as much distance tomorrow between herself and Desmond Hayes’s house as was possible. As much distance between herself and Catherine Grainger as was possible…

‘I would think it would be,’ she conceded dryly.

Marcus chuckled now, his bad humour obviously dissipated. ‘No borrowing his aftershave when I forget my own, for one thing,’ he teased.

‘Or socks and underwear,’ Kit came back playfully.

‘I draw the line at the underwear!’ Marcus assured her dryly. ‘The socks at a pinch, maybe, but—’

‘Please go back downstairs and join the party!’ Kit cut the conversation short.

Marcus sobered, looking at her intently now. ‘You’ll be okay up here on your own?’

‘Of course,’ she assured him easily.

A few more hours and she might be able to get away from here completely.

Away from the possibility of finding herself alone with Catherine Grainger again…!

CHAPTER EIGHT

THERE was someone in her bedroom!

Kit wasn’t sure what had woken her: an unexpected noise, a sixth sense? But something had certainly disturbed her sleep and now she was aware of another person in the room with her—even though she couldn’t see them in the dark shadows of the room, she could hear the soft sound of their breathing.

‘Marcus?’ she called tentatively.

She had no idea what he would be doing creeping about her bedroom during the early hours of the morning. But there again, he certainly hadn’t seemed to have too much hesitation about walking into her bedroom unannounced yesterday evening!

The fact that she received no answer to her query convinced her that she was right in thinking it wasn’t him…

‘Who is it?’ she said sharply, sitting up as she desperately tried to see into the shadows. ‘Who’s there?’ she demanded as anger started to replace her apprehension.

If someone was trying to frighten her, then they were succeeding, and if they were trying to frighten her, then they deserved her anger!

‘I said—’ She broke off abruptly, her wrist grasped between tight fingers as she reached out to turn on the bedside light.

‘I heard you, Kit,’ came the unmistakable voice of Mike Reynolds.

‘What are you doing in my bedroom?’ Kit gasped disbelievingly, moving frantically across to one side of the bed as she felt him sit on the other side of it. ‘How dare you—?’

‘Be quiet, Kit,’ he rasped, maintaining that steely grasp of her wrist. ‘And don’t be naïve; you know exactly why I’m here.’

‘No, I—’

‘Yes,’ he cut in forcefully. ‘To be honest, I couldn’t quite believe my luck, when, instead of coming in here to join you when he came up to bed half an hour ago, I saw Maitland go into the room next door.’

Kit’s eyes widened as she once again tried to see Mike’s face in the darkness. ‘You’ve been outside watching my bedroom?’ Somehow just the thought of that made her skin crawl.

Mike gave a disgusted snort. ‘What else did I have to do with my time after Maitland’s threatening behaviour earlier?’

‘Marcus didn’t threaten you,’ she defended, wishing now that Marcus had actually hit Mike—the verbal warning alone obviously hadn’t worked!

‘I thought your delicate sensibilities might prefer that description to the arrogant bastard he really is!’ Mike said contemptuously.

‘Isn’t it a little late for you to be thinking of my delicate sensibilities?’ she suggested, her vision having finally adjusted to the dim moonlight. She was able to see Mike’s face now, if not his actual features. ‘You have to leave, Mike,’ she told him.

‘And if I don’t choose to?’

‘Then I’ll scream,’ she informed him determinedly. ‘Marcus is in the bedroom next door,’ she added as a deterrent, knowing that Mike was a coward at heart.

He gave a humourless laugh. ‘Poor little Kit,’ he taunted. ‘So naïve. So trusting. Your boyfriend is no longer in his room next door!’ he informed her with hard satisfaction. ‘Maitland only stayed a couple of minutes before leaving again. And he hasn’t come back. Now, I don’t know about you, but considering how thick he and Andrea Revel have been the last few months, I would say it’s pretty easy to guess exactly whose bed he’s in right now! Wouldn’t you?’

Yes, she would, Kit accepted heavily, angry with Marcus for putting her in such an embarrassing position, but even more upset that he had left her an easy target for Mike Reynolds!

‘Will you just leave?’ she said stiffly. ‘Before you do something we’re both going to regret,’ she added warningly.

‘Oh, come on, Kit,’ Mike cajoled. ‘For goodness’ sake, lighten up, will you? After all, we’re old friends.’ His tone was persuasive as his hand moved caressingly up her arm.

‘Are you totally thick, or just plain stupid?’ she challenged, annoyance easily overcoming her fear. ‘I do not find you attractive. I have no intention of becoming involved with you. In fact, I’m sure I’ve made it perfectly plain that I don’t even like you!’ she finished frustratedly.

‘Do you realise your boyfriend has persuaded Desmond to throw me out of here first thing in the morning?’ The cajoling tone had turned to fury, and his hand tightened about her arm.

‘Not soon enough, as far as I’m concerned!’ Kit came back heatedly.

‘Now just—’

‘Or me!’ rasped an authoritative voice that Kit easily knew belonged to Marcus. At the same time she felt Mike’s hand release her arm as Marcus landed a punch on his jaw, which threw him off the bed.

‘Get your things together now, Reynolds, and just leave!’ Marcus was standing gloweringly over Mike as Kit at last managed to reach the switch for the bedside light. ‘And I would advise you not to show your face anywhere near me in the next decade!’

Mike got slowly to his feet, the slight discolouration on his jaw already visible. And, despite her earlier protests about physical violence, Kit knew that she felt no regret at Marcus’s action. In fact, she felt like hitting Mike herself!

‘Playing musical beds, Maitland?’ Mike sneered. ‘One woman won’t play, so you’ve come back to try the one in reserve?’

Marcus’s eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, Reynolds,’ he rasped. ‘Neither do I have any wish to know. Just go!’

‘What do you think, Kit?’ Mike turned to her tauntingly. ‘Second-best about your limit, is it?’ He gave a derisive smile as she wasn’t quick enough to hide the flinch his hurtful words inflicted.

She knew he was being deliberately nasty, knew he was enjoying her discomfort, but there was so much truth behind his words that for the moment she couldn’t think of anything to say.

‘Go,’ Marcus repeated in carefully controlled tones.

Mike went, slowly, nonchalantly, as cockily sure of himself as ever.

Kit’s shoulders slumped once he had left the room, reaction starting to set in as she began to shake. Amazingly, she had no doubts in her mind that if Marcus hadn’t come in when he had Mike really would have tried to force himself on her.

What made someone behave in that way? She had made it more than obvious that she disliked him, that she didn’t find him attractive, that she certainly didn’t want any sort of relationship with him, and yet he had still persisted. Maybe she had led a sheltered life, but she didn’t understand that sort of behaviour…

‘What on earth possessed you to let that man into your bedroom—?’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Kit rounded on Marcus disbelievingly, her eyes widely accusing as incredulity took over from the near-collapse she had felt coming on.

His mouth was a grimly set line. He was dressed only in the white silk shirt and trousers to his black dinner suit, having discarded the jacket. ‘You knew what sort of man he was, so what on earth—?’

‘Possessed me to invite him into my bedroom?’ Kit finished through gritted teeth, getting out of bed, perfectly respectable in her coffee-coloured satin pyjamas, but reaching out to pull on the matching robe anyway. She hadn’t thought that she would have her bedroom invaded in this way, not by one man, but two!

‘Exactly,’ Marcus agreed.

Kit gave an indignant sigh, at the same time tying the belt to her robe securely about the slenderness of her waist. ‘It’s all your fault,’ she began.

‘My fault?’ he echoed as his head rose incredulously. ‘And just how do you account for that, when I did everything in my power earlier this evening—apart from actually hitting the man!—to dissuade him from coming anywhere near you again?’ His mouth twisted scathingly.

‘He said you threatened him,’ Kit accused.

‘Obviously not strongly enough,’ Marcus responded. ‘I’m just surprised at you for inviting him into your room after that.’

‘You just don’t get it, do you?’ she rejoined impatiently. ‘I didn’t invite Mike in here; he broke in while I was asleep. After first ascertaining that you had crept off to Andrea’s bedroom, of course.’

‘That I had—! What do you mean, he broke in?’ Marcus seemed to think this part of her conversation was much more important than answering her other accusation.

Kit didn’t agree with him, knew that if Marcus hadn’t gone off to Andrea’s bedroom Mike would never have dared to enter her bedroom in the way that he had.

She was also aware that this might be misdirected anger—but she had to blame someone, didn’t she?

‘Exactly what I said.’ She moved away impatiently. ‘The man needs locking up!’

Marcus remained silent for several nerve-racking moments and then he slowly nodded. ‘We can do that,’ he murmured harshly. ‘If what you say is true—’

‘Of course what I say is true!’ Kit turned on him indignantly. ‘I don’t tell lies.’

‘Look, Kit,’ Marcus’s expression softened slightly as he seemed to take in her agitated, wide-eyed appearance, ‘I don’t think losing your temper with me is going to solve anything—’

‘Why isn’t it?’ she exclaimed. ‘If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t even be here. And if it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t have been subjected to Mike Reynolds’s unwanted advances! Neither would I have had to meet—’ She broke off then, realising—almost too late!—exactly what she had been about to say.

The last thing she wanted to do was introduce the subject of Catherine Grainger to this already explosive situation!

‘Yes?’ Marcus prompted, dark brows raised enquiringly.

‘Desmond Hayes,’ she substituted defensively, only too aware of the seriousness of the slip she had almost made. ‘Although, of the three of you, I think I prefer his company!’

Marcus’s brows rose even higher. ‘I noticed that the two of you seemed to be getting on well together, but—’ He gave an incredulous shake of his head. ‘Kit, you’ll only end up getting hurt if you fall for Desmond,’ he warned darkly.

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ She glared at him, two bright spots of angry colour in her cheeks. ‘I said that, so far this weekend, his is the company I prefer, not that I’m attracted to him! Does everything have to come down to this male female attraction thing?’

His mouth twisted wryly. ‘No, of course not. Although, it’s usually a relevant factor.’

‘Not to me,’ she sighed. ‘For your information, the only thing I’ve been able to learn this weekend by observing and listening, as you put it, is that Desmond is still very much in love with his wife!’ She was breathing hard in her indignation, her chin raised challengingly, nipples roused beneath her robe.

A fact Marcus seemed very aware of as his gaze moved slowly over her.

Making Kit aware at the same time, the flush in her cheeks caused by something else entirely now, a wild fluttering in her chest, her breath seeming constricted in her throat, every inch of her tingling skin seeming as aware of Marcus as he was of her.