“You’re my boss. I’m your secretary.”

There was triumph in Lucas’s silver eyes as he replied, “You want me, Kim. Your lips and body told me that this morning.”

“Lucas.” Kim glanced around nervously.

“And sooner or later it will happen,” he continued silkily. “You know that as well as I do. That’s why you’ve been so jumpy from the first day you came to work for me….”

HELEN BROOKS lives in Northamptonshire, England, and is married with three children. As she is a committed Christian, busy housewife and mother, her spare time is at a premium, but her hobbies include reading, swimming, gardening and walking her two energetic, inquisitive and very endearing young dogs. Her long-cherished aspiration to write became a reality when she put pen to paper on reaching the age of forty, and sent the result off to Harlequin Mills & Boon.

The Irresistible Tycoon
Helen Brooks

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ONE

‘KIM, I’m not at all sure that this is the right step to take, I’m really not. You’ve enough on your plate as it is; you know that.’

‘I’ve no choice, Maggie, and you know that,’ Kim answered steadily.

‘But…’ Maggie Conway stared helplessly at her friend as she ran out of words.

‘Look, just be an angel and pick up Melody after school, okay? I shouldn’t be much later than five but you know how interviews are; they might keep me waiting for a while.’

‘No problem,’ Maggie said unhappily.

‘Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you,’ Kim said with heartfelt warmth as she gave Maggie a brief hug.

Kim was still thinking about her last words as she left the comfort of Maggie’s spacious, open-plan apartment and stepped into the crisp frosty air outside the big Victorian house which had been converted into several self-contained flats.

Maggie was an unlikely-looking angel, being as round as she was tall with a shock of vibrant curly ginger hair and freckles covering every inch of her skin, but an angel she was nevertheless, Kim told herself silently as she walked briskly to the bus stop. How she would have got through the last two traumatic years without Maggie’s unfailing support and good humour she didn’t know.

She reached the bus stop just as the bus drew round the corner and, once seated, stared unseeingly out of the window, quite oblivious to the overt stare of the young, good-looking man sitting opposite her who clearly couldn’t take his eyes off the golden-haired beauty on the other side of the aisle.

Maggie had stepped in as unpaid childminder when the need arose—as it did frequently—confidante, stalwart friend, advisor and a whole host of other roles, Kim reflected warmly. The only good thing to come out of her relationship with Graham—apart from Melody, of course—was that he had introduced her to Maggie.

Graham… Kim’s soft full mouth tightened and her brown eyes narrowed for a moment before she forced her thoughts away from the spectre in her mind.

This wasn’t the time to think of Graham, not with such an important interview looming, she told herself firmly, straightening in the seat and squaring her slender shoulders. She understood the competition for the post of secretary to the chairman and managing director of Kane Electrical was fierce, and she needed to be focused and clear from the outset.

It was another fifteen minutes before the bus dropped her on the outskirts of Cambridge and almost outside the huge site which Kane Electrical occupied, and within five minutes she was standing in Reception explaining to the model-slim, beautifully coiffured receptionist that she had an appointment with Mr Lucas Kane at half-past two.

‘Right.’ The girl’s expertly made-up eyes had made a swift summing up of the tall, discreetly dressed woman in front of her, and now she gave a practised smile as she said blandly, ‘If you would like to take a seat for a moment I’ll tell Mr Kane’s secretary you’re here, Mrs Allen.’

‘Thank you.’ Kim had flushed slightly under the scrutiny. Her winter coat was a good one, but not new, neither were her shoes and handbag, whereas the receptionist’s expertly cut grey silk suit screamed a designer label and her hair could only have been cut by one of the most expensive salons in Cambridge.

Still, she wasn’t going to let this girl or anyone else intimidate her, Kim told herself fiercely as she took the proffered seat and sank into inches of soft leather upholstery. She might not be wearing the very latest fashion or have her hair styled by Vidal Sassoon but she was an excellent secretary, as her references confirmed.

She raised her small chin abruptly and stared straight ahead, her hands resting in her lap and her knees demurely together, before a restrained commotion at the side of her—as a tall, dark man with what could only be described as an entourage swept into the building—brought her head swinging round.

Whether it was the receptionist’s less than tactful appraisal, or the fact that everyone on the perimeter of the man seemed to be falling over themselves to get his attention, Kim didn’t know, but she found herself staring at the back of the personage in question with unmitigated dislike.

He certainly knew how to make an entrance, she thought waspishly, and he was so full of his own importance he was almost bursting with it! How she disliked the fawning and obsequious servility that went with wealth and power in some quarters.

The party was making for the lifts at the far side of the reception in a subdued furore of which the man leading seemed totally unaware, and Kim still had her eyes fixed on his back, her face expressing her feelings only too clearly, when he suddenly turned and to her shock and surprise looked straight at her.

She was conscious of a pair of rivetingly hard, metallic silver-grey eyes taking in the whole of her in a stunningly swift perusal that was quite devastating before she could wipe her face of all expression, and then she saw dark eyebrows rise in mordant disdain. The message was unmistakable.

He had recognised what she was thinking, recognised it and dismissed it—and her—as beneath his contempt, she thought as her face turned scarlet. And she couldn’t blame him, she really couldn’t. If nothing else she had been unforgivably rude.

In the split second before the lift doors opened and the man turned to enter Kim’s mind raced, but there was no time to do anything but watch him disappear. The doors closed, there was the faintest of purrs as the lift ascended, and that was that.

She was aware of sinking back in the seat and it was only then she became conscious she had been holding herself rigid. How embarrassing! She shut her eyes for the briefest of moments and swallowed hard, glancing across at the receptionist, who was speaking to someone on the telephone. What must he have thought? But then he’d left her in no doubt what he had thought, she added with a touch of dark humour.

She was looking at the receptionist without seeing her now, her mind continuing to dissect every moment of the little drama which had unfurled so unexpectedly. Who was he? Obviously someone important: one of the directors of the firm maybe?

An awful thought occurred to her but she pushed it away immediately. No, it wouldn’t be him—not Lucas Kane, she told herself firmly. That would be too disastrous, and if nothing else she was due some good fortune—well overdue, as it happened.

‘Mrs Allen?’

Kim came out of her rueful musing with a little jolt to find a tall, rather formidable-looking woman standing in front of her.

‘Good afternoon.’ A hand was extended and as Kim rose she made a suitable reply, shaking the other woman’s hand. ‘I’m June West,’ the woman continued, ‘Mr Kane’s secretary. If you would like to come with me…’

‘Thank you.’ As they walked towards the waiting lift Kim glanced at the other woman from under her eyelashes. June West was the person the successful applicant would have to follow, and if Lucas Kane’s present secretary was anything like as efficient as she looked they would have their work cut out. It didn’t help Kim’s confidence an iota.

‘Mr Kane is running a little late.’ As the lift doors closed, June turned to her with a polite smile. ‘We’ve had one panic after another this morning.’

Kim nodded, smiling in turn before she said, ‘Is that usual? The panics, I mean?’

‘I’m afraid so.’ June was looking hard at her. ‘As his secretary you would have to be used to working under pressure most of the time and making decisions for yourself. Would that be a problem?’

Being under pressure and making decisions for herself? That had been her life for the last two years—and before—Kim reflected silently. ‘No. No, it wouldn’t.’

‘Good.’ The smile was warmer now. ‘I’ve worked for Mr Kane for the last ten years and I can honestly say there’s never been a dull moment. It hasn’t always been easy, and the job is certainly not your average nine-to-five, but he’s a very fair employer and prepared to give and take, if you know what I mean.’

Kim didn’t, not really, but she nodded and said, ‘Can I ask why you are leaving?’

‘Of course. Sensible question.’ The lift doors had opened and now Kim followed the tall figure into a hushed corridor as June said over her shoulder, ‘I’m getting married and my future husband lives and works in Scotland. He’s got his own business; I met him through Kane Electrical, actually, as he’s one of our suppliers, so it’s not feasible for him to make the move.’

‘Congratulations,’ Kim said with genuine cordiality.

‘Thanks.’ As June opened a door and waved Kim through, she added quietly, ‘I’d given up on meeting the man of my dreams, to be honest, but whoever said life begins at forty was dead right as far as I was concerned.’

So June was forty, and she had obviously been a career woman dedicated to her job and Kane Electrical for the last decade—she had been right about the other woman being a hard act to follow if nothing else, Kim thought ruefully.

‘This is my office.’

They were standing in a large, beautifully decorated room with ankle-deep carpet and the very latest in office furniture and equipment, Kim noted.

‘And through there—’ June inclined her head to a door behind her desk ‘—is my private cloakroom. Mr Kane has his own leading off his office along with a dressing room and small sitting room. He sometimes sleeps over when things are particularly hectic,’ she added quietly.

‘Right.’ This was way, way out of her league. Kim kept her face expressionless but her thoughts were racing. The best she could hope for was to get through the next twenty minutes—or however long the interview with Lucas Kane lasted—without making a complete fool of herself. He was clearly looking for a personal assistant-cum-secretary who would eat, breathe and sleep Kane Electrical, and she just couldn’t give that degree of commitment with Melody to consider.

But she had stated quite clearly she had a four-year-old daughter on her CV, she reminded herself in the next instant, divesting herself of her coat before taking the seat June indicated and watching the other woman disappear through the interconnecting door in to her boss’s domain. She wouldn’t have got this far if he objected to his secretary having a life outside of work, would she?

She glanced round the opulent room again and her stomach swirled. She was amazed she had got this far if she was being honest, she admitted silently. It had been the thought of the huge salary such a post would command—nothing more and nothing less—which had prompted her to send off her CV when she had seen the position advertised at the end of September, just over four weeks ago now.

She hadn’t heard anything at all for three weeks and then she had received a letter, written on embossed, thick linen notepaper, stating she had been selected for the initial short list to attend an interview on Monday, 30th October, at 2.30 p.m.

Which was today, now, this very minute! Oh, help.

‘Mrs Allen?’ June had opened the interconnecting door again and was smiling at her. ‘Mr Kane will see you now.’

She knew, just a moment before she walked through the door, who would be seated within the room beyond. It was in that split second Kim acknowledged she had had a presentiment the moment she had stared into the cold silver eyes in the lobby below. He had looked like a millionaire tycoon; it had been in his walk, his bearing, the turn of his head, even the way his eyes had held hers in such arrogant contempt and disregard.

‘Mrs Allen…’ A tall, broad-shouldered figure rose from behind a massive grey desk at her approach, but the clear autumn sunlight streaming in through the huge plate-glass window behind him blinded Kim for a moment and turned Lucas Kane into a dark silhouette. And then, as she reached the chair which had been placed in front of the desk, she blinked, and he came into focus. Alarmingly into focus. All six feet four, and then some, of him!

‘How do you do?’ He was smiling as he enclosed her small paw in his long fingers, but it was definitely a crocodile sort of smile, Kim noted helplessly. He had obviously realised who she was earlier and had been looking forward to this moment with some relish. ‘Please be seated, Mrs Allen.’

She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of stuttering and stammering, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to speak clearly until she had had a moment or two to pull herself together, so she smiled in what she hoped was a cool, contained sort of way and sank gracefully into the chair. If nothing else it eased her trembling legs!

There hadn’t been time to look beyond the granite stare which had pinned her down in Reception, but now, to add to the agitation and shock that had her heart thumping like a sledgehammer, she could see Lucas Kane was disturbingly attractive. Not handsome, the rugged chiselled face and impressive muscled body was too aggressively male and ruthlessly compelling to ever be labelled such, but he had something that went far beyond good looks.

‘You understand you are one of four applicants on a final short list?’ he asked expressionlessly without looking at her, his eyes on the papers on his desk as his hand flicked over a page of what she assumed was her CV.

His hair was very black, almost a blue-black, she noted silently, and cut so short as to be harshly severe. And then he raised his head, and the curiously silver eyes shaded by thick black lashes compelled a response.

‘Yes, I do, Mr Kane,’ she managed evenly.

‘So what makes you think I should choose you over the other excellent candidates?’ he drawled smoothly, but with an edge that told her the incident in Reception was not forgotten or forgiven.

She had had the answer to just such a question drilled into her during the business management degree she had taken at university, and had even encountered it first-hand when she had applied for her last job, just over two years ago, but now, in the face of Lucas Kane’s cruelly mocking scrutiny, something hot and contumacious rose up in Kim’s chest.

‘That’s for you to weigh in the balance and consider, surely, Mr Kane,’ she answered coolly.

The silver eyes iced over a fraction more; her tone of voice clearly hadn’t been to his liking. ‘Is it, indeed?’ It was soft and low but with an underlying sharpness that suggested velvet disguising pure steel.

He had expected a stock answer—she had read that in the brief dart of surprise the silver-grey eyes had been unable to conceal—but she wasn’t playing any sort of game with this man. If he wanted to conduct a straightforward interview that was one thing, but she wasn’t going to be intimidated by Lucas Kane or anyone else.

He stared at her for another moment or two and she forced herself not to drop her gaze, and then he flicked the intercom on his desk.

‘Yes, Mr Kane?’ June’s voice sounded so wonderfully normal it made Kim want to get up and fly into the outer office.

‘Coffee, June, for Mrs Allen and myself.’

Kim had been half expecting him to tell his secretary that the interview was finished, or ask June to show her out—anything, in fact, but request coffee for them both. She found she badly wanted to smooth her hair but restrained the impulse to fiddle with the thick shining braid coiled tightly on top of her head, knowing the intuitive, razor-sharp mind on the other side of the desk would recognise the nervousness behind such a gesture.

‘Or perhaps you would prefer tea?’ The brilliant gaze had fastened on her again after the brief respite.

‘Coffee will be fine, thank you,’ she answered carefully, keeping her voice in neutral.

‘So, Mrs Allen…’

His voice was very distinctive, she thought shakily as she watched him settle himself comfortably in the vast leather chair and lean back slightly, crossing one long leg over the other knee as he surveyed her unblinkingly. Deep and ever so slightly husky, with the merest trace of an accent she couldn’t quite place.

‘Are you a career woman?’ he asked softly.

There was only one answer she could possibly give to such a leading question, given the circumstances; a reply in the affirmative was what he was expecting and what she must make—the knowledge was screamingly obvious. ‘My work is very important to me, Mr Kane, yes,’ Kim said quickly. But not necessarily for the reasons he supposed, she added silently.

‘And I see you got a First at university. That must mean you worked hard but had a natural aptitude for the subject too?’ he commented thoughtfully.

She couldn’t read anything from either his tone or his face but somehow she felt a punchline was on the way, and she couldn’t quite keep the wariness out of her voice when she said, ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

She saw the firm hard mouth twitch slightly, as though he was enjoying some private joke of his own, but his voice was still very even—almost expressionless—as he continued, ‘So why did you get married immediately on graduating from university, and moreover start a family within months, if you intended to make the most of your excellent qualifications and carve a career for yourself? It doesn’t quite seem to add up, Mrs Allen.’

Flipping cheek! She thought about making some facetious reply and passing off what she considered an extremely intrusive question, but he had hit her on the raw—possibly because she had had cause to bitterly regret the marriage almost immediately—so her voice was cold when she replied, ‘Whether it adds up or not, that is what happened, Mr Kane, and it is my business, no one else’s.’ Okay, so she’d blown it good and proper, she thought sickly, but she didn’t want his rotten job anyway!

She expected a cutting retort, something stinging to put her in her place, but even as she had started speaking he had straightened in his seat and was bending over the papers again, his voice businesslike as he said, ‘Did you meet your husband at university?’

‘Yes.’ It was succinct in the extreme but he didn’t look up.

‘And I see you were widowed barely three years later. That must have been hard for you.’

There was nothing she could say to that and so she kept quiet, but he obviously didn’t expect a comment as he continued immediately, ‘That would have meant your daughter was two years of age when you became a single-parent family?’

‘Yes.’

‘Tough break.’

There was a smokier quality to his voice as he spoke, a trace of warmth evident in the deep husky tones for the first time, and it unnerved her. Kim didn’t know why it bothered her but it did, and she suddenly found she was acutely aware of the formidable breadth of his shoulders and the muscled strength evident beneath the superficial veneer of expensive cloth.

It took all coherent thought clean away, and in the pause which followed Lucas Kane raised his dark head, his piercing eyes narrowing on her troubled face. ‘You find it painful to talk about this, Mrs Allen?’ he asked quietly.

Kim nodded—it seemed the safest option—but she was heartily thankful he had misunderstood the reason for her evident agitation.

‘I think you can appreciate I have to ask whether you have suitable arrangements in place should the need arise for you to work late or even be away from home for a few days?’ he continued expressionlessly after another brief pause. ‘Such occurrences are not unusual in this office.’

‘Yes, I do.’ This was more solid ground and Kim’s large chocolate-brown eyes expressed the sentiment to the perceptive metallic gaze watching her so closely, although she was unaware of it.

‘Melody was in full-time nursery care for two years before she started school in September and she loved it,’ Kim said quickly, ‘and she’s just sailed into school. The school provides an after-hours club for children with working parents which finishes at five-thirty, but if ever I’m unavailable to pick her up a good friend who lives close by and works from home steps in. If I had to go on a business trip, Maggie would love to have her for however long it took.’

‘How fortuitous.’

It was even and spoken without any expression but somehow Kim felt an implied criticism in the smooth tone. Her eyes narrowed and she stared hard into the tough masculine face in front of her, but other than ask him outright if he had a problem with the way she organised her affairs she could do nothing but say, coolly, ‘Yes, it is. I’m very fortunate to have a friend like Maggie.’

‘You don’t have family living near?’

‘No. My…my husband was an only child and his parents had him late in life. They’re now in their sixties and his father is in poor health so they rarely travel from Scotland, where they live.’

‘And your family?’ he persisted relentlessly.

What this had to do with her aptitude to do the job, she didn’t know! ‘I have no family,’ she said shortly.

‘None?’

He sounded faintly incredulous and she supposed she couldn’t blame him. ‘I was orphaned as a young child,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘I lived with an elderly aunt for a time but when she died and left her estate to her own family I was put in a children’s home.’

The silver-grey eyes flickered briefly.

‘So,’ Kim continued quietly, ‘I suppose I might have some distant relatives somewhere but I wouldn’t go so far as to call them family, and I certainly have no wish to trace any of them. I’ve made my own life and that’s the way I like it.’

He leant back in the chair again, his eyes never leaving her face. ‘I see.’

Exactly what he saw Kim wasn’t sure, but she felt she had as much chance of being offered this job as a snowball in hell.

‘Since your husband died you have worked for Mr Curtis of Curtis & Brackley, is that right? And the firm went into liquidation four weeks ago.’ He was reading from her CV again and the relief of having that laser-sharp gaze off her face was overwhelming.

‘Which is when I saw this job advertised,’ Kim agreed.

‘Mr Curtis seems to have thought a great deal of you. He has written what I can only describe as a glowing reference.’

And she had earned it. Hours of overtime a week; calls in to the office to deal with minor panics at weekends; interrupted holidays—Bob Curtis had had no compunction in wringing every last working minute he could out of her. But the salary had been good and Curtis & Brackley had been practically on her doorstep and just down the street from Melody’s nursery. But it had been the memory of trailing from interview to interview, in the span between Graham’s death and securing a job, that had induced her to put up with almost anything.

Bob had been kind enough in his own way and she had found the running of the small office exerted no great pressure or stress; indeed in the last six months she had been becoming increasingly bored.

‘It was a nice family firm to work for,’ Kim said now as she realised Lucas Kane was waiting for a response.

‘Kane Electrical is not a nice family firm,’ came the dry reply as the eagle eyes flashed to meet hers again. ‘Do you think you are capable of making the transition?’

It wasn’t so much what he said but the way in which he said it, and again it caught Kim on the raw, calling forth a terse reply that was not like her, she thought confusedly even as she said, ‘I wouldn’t have wasted your time or mine in applying for the position if I didn’t, Mr Kane.’

She saw the dark brows frown and his mouth tighten, but June chose that precise moment to knock and enter with the coffee, and Kim had never been so pleased to see anyone in her life. She knew she was flushed, she could feel her cheeks burning, and she acknowledged her tone had not been one which a prospective employee would dream of using to their future employer, but it was him, Lucas Kane, she told herself in silent agitation. She had never met such a patronising, arrogant, downright supercilious man in all her life.

‘Do you own a car, Mrs Allen?’

‘What?’ She had just settled back in her seat after accepting her cup of coffee from June and was bringing the cup to her lips when the question, barked as it was, made the steaming hot coffee slurp over the side of the china cup into the saucer as Kim gave an involuntary start.

‘A car?’ he repeated very distinctly.

The tone was now one of exaggerated patience, and it brought the adrenalin pumping again as she took a deep breath and forced herself not to bite back, instead speaking calmly and coolly as she said, ‘No, I do not own a car, Mr Kane.’

‘But I see you have passed a driving test. Are you a confident driver?’ His eyes were like narrowed points of silver light. ‘Or perhaps I should ask if you are a competent one?’ he added silkily.

‘I’m both confident and competent,’ she answered smartly. ‘Maggie has me on her insurance so I borrow her car when I need to.’

‘Ah, the ever-helpful Maggie.’

She definitely didn’t like his tone, and she had just opened her mouth to tell him so, and to point out what he could do with his wonderful job, when he said, ‘If you were offered this post and accepted it a car would be provided for your use. A BMW or something similar. I don’t want my secretary trailing about waiting for buses that arrive late, or being unable to get from A to B in the shortest possible time.’

She stared at him, uncertain of what to say. Was he telling her all this so that she would be aware of what she had missed when he turned her down? she asked herself wretchedly. She wouldn’t put anything past Lucas Kane.

‘And there would be a clothing allowance,’ he continued smoothly, his gaze running over her for a second and reminding her that her off-the-peg suit—although smart and businesslike—was not in the same league as the couturier number June was wearing. ‘There is the occasional function here in England which requires evening dress, but certainly on the trips abroad you will require an array of clothes.’

If she had been flushed before she knew she was like a beetroot now. He had put it fairly tactfully, she had to admit, but the end result was that he considered her an office version of Cinderella! But clothing for herself had been the last priority since Graham had died, in fact she couldn’t remember buying anything new since then, apart from items of underwear. She just hadn’t been able to afford it…

‘Yes, I see.’ She forced the words out through stiff lips and then took a hefty sip of the hot coffee, letting it burn a fortifying path down into her stomach.

He didn’t have a clue how the other half lived, she thought savagely, shading her eyes with her thick lashes so he wouldn’t see the anger in her eyes. For the last two years she had lain awake nearly every night doing interminable sums in her head, even though she knew the end result would be fruitless.

Her marriage had been a nightmare but Graham’s death—following a drinking binge when he had fallen through a shop plate-glass window—had unleashed a whole new set of horrors. Her husband had left debts—frightening, mind-boggling debts, as far as she was concerned—and, Graham being Graham, he hadn’t been concerned about tying her into the terrifying tangle. She had been so stupid in the early days of their marriage; she’d trusted him, signed papers without enquiring too much about the whys and wherefores, and the payments she’d believed had been as regular as clockwork just hadn’t happened.

Not only that but he had borrowed from friends, business colleagues, anyone who would lend him money to finance his failing one-man business and—more importantly, to Graham—his alcohol addiction.

She had known, once she had become pregnant with Melody, there was something terribly wrong. The handsome, charming, flashing-eyed Romeo from university days had changed into someone she didn’t recognise, but she had put it down to work stress, the unplanned pregnancy—she had become pregnant following a stomach bug which had made the Pill ineffective—all manner of things but the real cause.

She had loved him, made excuses for him—fool, fool, fool. And all the while the debts had been mounting, debts she was now struggling to pay off, month after painful month, as well as providing for her daughter and herself.

Maggie had been great. The two thousand pounds Graham had borrowed from her had been written off as far as Maggie was concerned on the day of the funeral, but there were plenty of others who hadn’t been so magnanimous.

She was constantly torn all ways. She wanted Melody to have nice clothes, good food and a happy environment, but although she had struggled to make the best of the tiny bedsit she had rented since the funeral it was hardly the best place in the world in which to bring up a young child. And the debts diminished so slowly. She couldn’t believe how slowly.

‘I take it you could start immediately, Mrs Allen, should you be offered the post?’

Kim had been so entrenched in the morass of the past that her eyes were almost bewildered when she raised them to meet Lucas Kane’s.

‘Yes, I… Yes.’ Pull yourself together and act like the efficient secretary he’s looking for, she told herself bitterly. You can’t afford to be choosy about who you work for, even though you disliked this man on sight. Not that she had any chance of securing the post; he had made that very clear.

‘And would you accept the position, should it be offered?’ he asked softly.

She stared at him, her stomach muscles tightening as she acknowledged again that she felt he was playing with her. And she had had enough of that—manipulation, half-truths, deceit—to last her a lifetime.

‘Oh, I’m sorry, I should have mentioned the salary before now.’ His voice was very cool as he mentioned a figure that was three times as much as she had been getting at Curtis & Brackley.

Kim gaped at him. She knew her mouth was partly open, that was the worst of it, but she was too stunned to do anything about it.

‘I believe in paying the best for the best, Mrs Allen.’ His mouth was twisted in a quizzical smile. ‘But if you worked for me you would earn every penny; ask Miss West if you don’t believe me. I demand absolute loyalty, unquestioning allegiance to Kane Electrical… You get my drift?’

His derisive expression was mocking but in this instant Kim found she didn’t care. Her mind was turning cartwheels in working out what such a financial bonus would mean and, on top of a car, a dress allowance… But she hadn’t been offered the job. She came back to earth with a wallop.

‘I…I think with such a generous package you would be within your rights to expect complete commitment and dedication from your secretary, Mr Kane,’ she managed at last. And how!

‘You do? Good. A meeting point at last.’ His voice was very deep and quiet and for a moment the portent of his words didn’t register. And then, as the covert censure hit, Kim flushed hotly.

The silver gaze ran over her pink face, the golden-blonde of her upswept hair bringing the charcoal-brown of her eyes into greater contrast, and then Lucas Kane stood up abruptly, thrusting his hands into his pockets as he turned to look out of the huge window behind him.

‘You haven’t answered my question, Mrs Allen.’ His voice was remote, distant.

‘I haven’t?’ Her mind was whirling and for a second she couldn’t grasp what he was getting at.

‘I asked you if you would accept the position if it was offered,’ he reminded her evenly, still without turning round.

She stared at the big figure in front of her, part of her mind conceding that he must be one of the tallest men she had ever met and certainly the most disturbing, and then she found herself saying, ‘Yes, I would accept it, Mr Kane, if it was offered.’

He was quite still for another moment and then he turned, slowly, to glance at her still sitting primly on the chair in front of the desk.

She was one hell of a beautiful woman. The thought came from nowhere and he found it intensely irritating. Beautiful, but with an air of wary vulnerability one moment and steel-like hardness the next. Nothing about her seemed to add up and he was sure she was keeping plenty from him—as far as skeletons in the cupboard went he wouldn’t be surprised if she had several rooms full of them.

From all she had said it sounded as though the kid was nothing more than an appendage to her life; women like her should never have children of their own. It was a sweeping statement and he recognised it as such, which further irritated him.

Damn it all, he knew nothing about her and her private life was no concern of his. As long as she did her job, that was all he was interested in. The thought caught him, tightening his mouth still more. Anyone would think he was offering her the job and he still had two of the other applicants to see yet, one of whom appeared to be a second June—if that were possible.

‘So, thank you for attending this interview, Mrs Allen, and we’ll be in touch within a day or two.’

It was a clear dismissal and Kim rose immediately to her feet, only to find she didn’t quite know what to do with the coffee cup.

‘May I…?’ He moved round the desk and again she felt that little curling in her insides as the sheer breadth and height of him dwarfed her. At five foot ten she wasn’t used to feeling so tiny and it was disconcerting to say the least.

‘Thank you.’ As he reached for the coffee cup she was careful not to let her fingers touch his although she couldn’t for the life of her have explained why. He was so close now she caught the faintest whiff of delicious and probably wildly expensive aftershave, and the effect of it on her sensitised nerves was enough to make her take a hasty step backwards, almost falling over the chair behind her as she did so.

Great. That was all she needed. Wouldn’t he just love it if she fell flat on her face in front of him? It was enough to put iron in her backbone and a tight smile on her face as she gathered up her bag and coat, and said steadily, ‘Goodbye, Mr Kane. I’ll wait to hear from you.’ And they both knew exactly what his decision would be, didn’t they? she added with silent bitterness.

‘Goodbye, Mrs Allen.’ There was a bite to the words; he had obviously noticed her involuntary recoil and hadn’t appreciated it, Kim thought wretchedly, humiliation adding more depth to the colour staining her cheeks.

The two or three steps to the interconnecting door seemed like miles, but then she was outside in June West’s office and Kim was amazed how utterly normal everything seemed. She had just endured one of the most—no, probably the most—unnerving experiences of her life and June West was sitting typing away at her word processor as though nothing had happened. But then she dealt with Lucas Kane every day of her life. The thought was astounding and Kim found herself looking at the other woman with new respect as she made her goodbyes and escaped to the lift.

What had made her say she would take the post if it was offered? As the lift whisked her silently downwards, Kim stared at her reflection in the mirrored wall in horror. Well, she knew why—filthy lucre! She gave a weak grin and the dark-eyed girl staring at her grinned back.

Not that her agreement was any cause for concern—Lucas Kane was as likely to offer her the job as a trip to the moon. She nodded to the thought, faintly comforted but still trembling slightly.

She didn’t know how anyone could survive working for such a man; he was too cold, too ruthless and overtly powerful to be human.

But the money was good. She shut her eyes for a second, thinking of the speed in which the remainder of Graham’s debts could be settled if she had a salary like the one Lucas Kane had mentioned coming in every month. She and Melody could think about moving out of the grotty little bedsit they were forced to call home, and with a car—a BMW, he had said, hadn’t he?—travelling would be a pleasure.

The lift glided to a halt and her eyes snapped open. Enough daydreaming. She stepped into the foyer and walked determinedly towards the far doors without looking to left or right. It wasn’t going to happen—furthermore, she didn’t want it to happen, she told herself firmly.

She would soon get another job and eventually, one day, she would be clear of the burden which hung like a great millstone round her neck. And she had Melody. She thought of her daughter’s sweet little face and felt a flood of love sweep through her, dispelling all the heartache. Yes, she had Melody, and compared to Lucas Kane with all his millions that made her the richest woman on earth.

CHAPTER TWO

‘SO, ALL in all an unmitigated disaster, then?’ Maggie said with forced brightness. ‘Never mind, pet; on to the next one, eh? I get the car back from the garage tomorrow, so if you want to borrow it you can. Friday’s the next interview, isn’t it?’

Kim nodded. She was standing drinking a hasty cup of coffee in Maggie’s ultra-modern kitchen before she left to pick up Melody from the Octopus club her daughter attended after school. ‘At the accountant’s on the corner of the street where I live, actually,’ she answered with matching brightness, ‘so I shan’t need the car. The accountant’s would be much handier than Kane Electrical, travel-wise.’

‘Absolutely.’

‘And it’s a small place—just three or four work there, I think—so it’s bound to be friendlier than a big firm like Kane’s.’

‘Definitely.’

‘Oh, Maggie.’ Kim put down her flamboyant mug painted with enormous red cherries abruptly and stared into her friend’s bright blue eyes. ‘All that money, and a car and everything.’

‘Don’t forget Lucas Kane goes with the deal.’ Maggie was trying to find something positive to say about the lost chance of the century.

‘I could put up with him,’ Kim answered miserably. ‘If it meant being able to move out of the bedsit and get somewhere with a garden for Melody I could put up with just about anything.’

‘I know.’ Maggie put a sympathetic hand on Kim’s arm for a moment. ‘But anyone has only got to see you two together for a minute to know that Melody has something all the money in the world can’t buy. There’s an awful lot of kids with gardens and a nursery full of toys who have rotten childhoods, lass, with parents who don’t give a damn.’

Maggie’s Northern accent was always at its strongest when she was in earnest about something, and now Kim smiled into the round homely face as she said, ‘Thanks, Maggie. You’re one in a million.’

‘Just repeat that in Pete’s ear, would you? Loudly!’

Pete was Maggie’s boyfriend of five years’ standing who was incredibly inventive in avoiding any mention of commitment and settling down, much to Maggie’s increasing exasperation. He worked as a stockbroker—a successful one, by all accounts—and occupied the flat above Maggie’s, which was how the two of them had first met.

‘I thought you were going to have a chat with him over the weekend? Lay it on the line about how you feel?’ Kim said quietly, forgetting her own troubles for a moment as she looked into Maggie’s sky-blue gaze. Pete commuted into London every day and arrived back at the flat well after eight each night, so any serious talking was always left until the weekends.

‘I was.’ Maggie shrugged her meaty shoulders disconsolately. ‘But he wasn’t feeling well—a touch of flu, I think—and I was snowed under with work anyway, so it perhaps wasn’t the right time.’

Maggie was an interior designer and her star was rising in the career sense if not in her lovelife.

‘He doesn’t know how lucky he is, that’s the trouble,’ Kim said stoutly, finishing the last of the coffee in one gulp and placing the mug on Maggie’s gleaming worktop.

‘I’ve been thinking the same thing myself,’ Maggie agreed wryly. ‘Working from home is great in all sorts of ways but he knows I’m always here, no matter what, just waiting for him to come back from the City. The way he carries on sometimes, you’d think he was a Viking returning from a far distant land—he’s such a drama queen! In his opinion, he’s the high-flyer taking chances, on the cutting edge and all that, and I’m good old dependable Maggie with nothing to do but get ready with his pipe and slippers.’

‘The short, sharp shock treatment might wake him up, if you can think of something not too life-threatening,’ Kim advised with a grin. ‘I’m sure he does love you, Maggie.’

‘Ah, but how much, lass—that’s the sixty-four dollar question, isn’t it? I’m getting on for thirty; I can’t wait around for ever!’

‘I must go; Melody will be out soon.’ Kim gave Maggie a quick hug and made for the door. ‘Ring me later if you fancy a chat.’

‘Even if it’s just to moan about Pete?’

‘Course. What else are friends for?’

Kim found herself sprinting the last hundred yards or so along the cold streets to the school, although there was no need; she was in plenty of time. She had always made sure—no matter how hectic or difficult her day or how heavy her workload—that either she or Maggie was there before time to pick up Melody.

Melody’s huge, thickly lashed brown eyes were searching for her the second her daughter walked out of the school doors, and as the small face lit up and a little red-mittened hand waved frantically Kim felt a lump in her throat at the unabashed love on the tiny face so like her own.

‘Mummy! Mummy!’ Melody fairly flew across the playground and into Kim’s waiting arms. ‘Guess what? I’m going to be Mary in the Nativity and have a white dress and tinsel in my hair. Mrs Jones picked me specially.’

‘That’s wonderful, darling.’

‘She said she can trust me not to be silly,’ Melody continued solemnly. ‘Cory Chambers was very silly today; she stuck a crayon up her nose and Mrs Jones couldn’t get it down and Cory was crying her head off. Mrs Jones had to get her mummy.’

The chatter continued during the ten-minute walk to their bedsit, situated in a terraced street which was grim by any standards. A young married couple and several students occupied the other four bedsits the narrow, three-storey house contained, with a shared bathroom for all occupants on the top floor next to Kim’s room.

The fact that the bathroom was right next door for Melody and that their elevated position cut out the possibility of noisy neighbours overhead were two small advantages in their somewhat miserable surroundings, but Kim fought a constant war against mould and damp, ancient plumping and poor lighting. It wasn’t so bad in the summer, but the two winters they had spent at the house had been abysmal.

Kim had made their home as bright and attractive as she could with the minimum of expenditure, making bright red curtains and a matching duvet cover and cushions for the bed-settee she shared with Melody, and scattering several rugs over the threadbare carpet, but nothing could hide the general run-down ambience of the old building.

Once home, and with Melody settled in front of the fire with a glass of milk and a biscuit, happily watching her favourite TV programme, Kim set about preparing the evening meal. But in spite of all her efforts to the contrary she found she was constantly replaying every minute of the interview earlier that day over and over in her mind.

It had been a travesty. Her eyes narrowed and she sliced a hapless carrot with uncharacteristic savageness. From the second her eyes had met those of Lucas Kane in the reception area she hadn’t stood a chance. The moment she had seen who was seated behind that desk she should have turned right round and marched out with her head held high. Instead… She gritted her teeth and another carrot met the same fate as the first.

Instead she had sat there and answered his barbed questions as though she wanted his precious job, and let him walk all over her in the process.

No—no, she hadn’t, she argued in the next instant. He hadn’t had it all his own way, and besides, she did want the job. She wanted it so much she ached with it—or, rather, she wanted what the position as secretary to the chairman and managing director of Kane Electrical would do for Melody, for them both.

But it wasn’t going to happen. She added two pieces of chicken breast to the vegetables and popped the casserole in the dilapidated oven the bedsit boasted. And in spite of the huge financial rewards it was probably just as well. She couldn’t even begin to imagine herself working for Lucas Kane.

At eight that evening, when the telephone rang in the hall downstairs and Juliana—one of the students—banged on Kim’s door to say a Mr Lucas of Kane Electrical was asking for her, Kim found herself having to do just that very thing.

‘This is Mrs Allen.’ She didn’t like the fact that her voice was so breathless but hoped he would put it down to the fact that she lived on the top floor—something Juliana had apparently pointed out to him, according to the raven-haired Italian girl.

‘Lucas Kane, Mrs Allen.’ The deep husky tones were just as compelling over the telephone and she could just picture him, eyes like silver ice and mouth a hard line in the darkly attractive face, sitting at that massive desk in what must now be a deserted office block. Not that he had to be there, of course, she amended silently. He could be calling her from home, wherever that was. ‘I hope I’m not interrupting anything—you don’t have guests?’

Guests? Once she and Melody were ensconced in the limited space within the bedsit, there was barely room to swing a cat, Kim thought drily. ‘No, Mr Kane, I don’t have guests.’ Her voice was better this time; less of the Marilyn Monroe and more of a Katharine Hepburn briskness to it.

‘Good.’ It was cold and crisp, very much like the man himself. ‘I’m ringing you to offer you the job, Mrs Allen,’ he said, without any preamble. ‘If you haven’t changed your mind, of course.’

‘I… You—’ Pull yourself together, woman, she told herself silently. He’s obviously looking for a secretary who can string two words together! ‘That’s wonderful, Mr Kane,’ she managed faintly.

‘Then you accept?’

‘Yes—yes, I do, and thank you. Thank you very much indeed.’ She forced herself to stop babbling, realising she had gone from one extreme to the other, and took a long breath before she said more slowly, ‘When would you like me to start, Mr Kane?’

‘Well, that was one of the points in your favour, Mrs Allen, the fact that you can begin immediately,’ he said coolly. ‘June is understandably anxious to join her fiancé as soon as she can and oversee the arrangements, the wedding being in the spring, but even allowing for the possibility you are an exceptionally quick learner—’ did she detect a note of covert sarcasm there, Kim wondered, or was she getting paranoid about this man? ‘—it will take several weeks to pick up all the strings.’

‘You want me to start tomorrow?’ she asked with a calm she was far from feeling.

‘I was going to suggest Monday, to give you time to make any provision for your daughter which might be necessary, but if you are able to come into the office tomorrow that would be excellent. June normally arrives about nineish, so any time after that would be fine.’

There was no trace of emotion or feeling in his voice and the lack of humanity was disconcerting, to say the least. As his personal assistant-cum-secretary, she was going to be working very closely with this intimidating machine—could she handle it? Kim asked herself frantically, before answering in the same instant, Don’t be silly, of course you can handle it. You can’t miss the chance of a lifetime through sheer cowardice.

‘I’ll be there, Mr Kane,’ Kim said steadily.

‘Good. I’ll get Personnel to draw up a contract and arrange for a car to be delivered some time tomorrow so you can have it to drive home. Any particular colour you’d like?’

She almost said, Colour? before she bit the word back, but her hands were beginning to shake and her stomach was swirling with a mixture of amazement and delight at how suddenly her circumstances were changing and bone-chilling shock at her temerity. ‘I don’t know,’ she said dazedly. ‘This is all rather sudden.’

‘Has your daughter got a favourite colour?’ The deep, dark voice was as expressionless as ever, but the content of the question totally threw Kim in view of the robot asking it.

‘Blue,’ she faltered weakly.

‘Just as well it’s not shocking pink—BMW might have objected,’ came the dry response. ‘Blue it is, then, and I’ll see a child’s seat is fitted, of course. Goodnight, Mrs Allen.’

‘Goodnight, and thank you for letting me know so promptly,’ she said quickly, her head spinning.

‘A pleasure.’ It was soft and smooth, and although Kim told herself his reply was just a formal nicety, something in the silky tones sent a trickle of awareness down her spine.

He would be one sexy customer in bed. The thought—coming from nowhere as it did—horrified Kim so much it was just as well the phone had gone dead at the other end because she was quite unable to speak or move for a good thirty seconds.

Was she mad? she asked herself as she replaced the receiver with elaborate carefulness and then put both hands to her burning cheeks. Lucas Kane was her new boss and that last thought had been inappropriate to say the least. And machines weren’t sexy. Powerful maybe, frightening sometimes, and certainly cold and efficient, but definitely not sexy.

She stood for a moment more and then, as her agitation subsided slightly and the full knowledge of what the new job package would mean swept over her, she took the stairs two at a time, bursting into the bedsit and doing something unheard of—waking Melody from a deep sleep and dancing round the room with her daughter’s tiny body held tight in her arms.

The next morning was one of frosty brilliance, and when Kim awoke to a crystal-bright world and gazed out over the white sparkling rooftops as she fixed a hot drink for herself and Melody her heart was singing.

This was a new shiny beginning; even the weather confirmed it. She would start looking for a new place to live—a small ground-floor flat with a garden, maybe, or even a little house—this very weekend. She was going to be earning a small fortune; she could soon pay off the remaining debts, as long as she was careful, and then her life would be her own again. No more robbing Peter to pay Paul, no more working out how to make a pound stretch into two or three—oh, life was wonderful.

Once she had got Melody off to sleep again the night before she had phoned Maggie with the good news. Maggie had immediately offered to pop round early the next morning and take Melody to school, so Kim could arrive at Kane Electrical in plenty of time—the buses being unreliable at the best of times—and Kim had gratefully accepted her friend’s kind offer.

So it was that Kim arrived outside the huge building just as June West drew into the ‘Reserved for the secretary of the managing director’ spot, and the two women walked into Reception together.

‘Nervous?’

June was smiling sympathetically as she spoke and her voice was warm, and Kim smiled back weakly as she answered, ‘A little. Well, a lot, really. My previous job wasn’t anything like as high-powered as this one.’

‘Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.’ June was watching her closely and now, as the two women entered the lift and the doors glided shut, she added in a low tone, ‘I shouldn’t really be telling you this but there were dozens after the position, you know. Some were better-qualified than you, some were more experienced, but Lucas chose you and that means, as far as he’s concerned, you are the best for the job.’

Kim knew June had meant her words to be uplifting but they had the opposite effect. All she could manage, as the lift doors opened to disgorge them into the exalted upper sanctum, was, ‘You call him Lucas? Not to his face, surely?’ She hadn’t got Lucas Kane down as being on first-name terms with his secretary somehow.

‘Sure.’ June grinned at her conspiratorially. ‘You’ll find him quite different to the public image, once you get to know him, and he hates to stand on ceremony in private. Of course, in front of other colleagues and business clients, it’s Mr Kane and Miss West, or in your case Mrs Allen.’

‘Right.’ Oh, help!

‘He’s a good boss to work for, Kim, take it from me,’ June continued easily as they walked along the corridor. ‘I wouldn’t have stayed ten years otherwise.’

‘How…how old is he?’ Kim asked nervously.

‘Thirty-seven. He took over the business when he was only twenty-five. His father, who founded the firm, got sick—cancer, I think, leukaemia or something to do with the blood, anyway—and had to have months and months of treatment. Lucas stepped in; he’d been with the firm for four years, since leaving university, but when he took charge he did so well, apparently, that his father decided to retire and let him take over permanently, and since then the business has gone from strength to strength. It was only a tenth of its present size when I started.’

June opened the door into her office, lowering her voice as she glanced towards the interconnecting door, and added, ‘He’s got a reputation for having the Midas touch, and admittedly he does have brilliant business acumen, but his competitors don’t see the endless hours he puts into the business while they’re off swanning round a golf course or having holidays in the Caribbean. He deserves every little bit of success he’s had. I don’t know anyone who works so hard.’

‘I appreciate the accolade, June, but just in case the tenor changes I think I’d better point out the cleaners seem to have knocked the switch on the intercom again.’

The voice was dry, very dry, but as June glanced at her Kim saw the older woman’s face was quite unabashed and her expression was reflected in her voice when June said, ‘Whoops, that was a near thing, Lucas. Another minute and your ears might have begun to burn.’

‘My ears are incapable of burning, June, as you very well know.’ It was even drier. ‘Do I take it Mrs Allen is with you?’

‘Yes, she’s here,’ June confirmed quickly.

‘Then I would like a word with her, before you start addling her brain with a hundred and one facts,’ the dark voice said evenly. ‘And a cup of black coffee, when you’re ready.’

‘Coming right up.’ June flicked the switch on the intercom and smiled breezily at Kim as she indicated for her to go through into Lucas Kane’s office, and Kim found herself thinking—as she had done at the interview the afternoon before—that she would never, ever—not in a million years—ever be able to mirror the relaxed approach June apparently had in dealing with her formidable boss.

She quickly slipped out of her coat, smoothed down her already sleek and shining hair, caught in a neat and somewhat severe pleat at the back of her head, and took a deep breath as she walked across the room and opened the door into Lucas Kane’s office.

‘Good morning.’ The devastating silver-grey eyes were waiting for her and in spite of all her preparation for this moment Kim’s heart bounded in her chest. ‘You haven’t changed your mind, then?’

‘Changed my mind?’ She stared at the big figure seated behind the desk in surprise. ‘Of course not, Mr Kane. I told you I would be here this morning.’

‘And you always do what you promise?’ he asked smoothly, his pearly gaze narrowing on her flushed face.

‘Yes, I do.’

There was a slight bristle in the words which Lucas registered with hidden amusement, but his voice betrayed nothing of what he was feeling when he said, ‘Good. We’ll get along just fine in that case, Mrs Allen.’

He rose from behind the massive desk as he spoke and Kim forced herself to show no reaction at all when he perched himself easily on the side of it, the hard lean body giving the impression of a coiled spring just waiting to pounce.

‘The car, a blue BMW, will be delivered before four o’clock.’ His tone was steady now, almost bored. ‘That will give ample time for you to be able to familiarise yourself with the controls and ask any questions you feel relevant.’

‘Thank you.’ She didn’t know what else to say.

‘I trust your daughter will be satisfied with the colour when she sees it.’

Kim glanced sharply at him then but the sardonic attractive face was expressionless, as was his voice when he continued, ‘Over the next few weeks you will learn how this office works and what makes me tick, Mrs Allen.’

Her wide open eyes blinked once but she didn’t make the mistake of rushing into speech and the carved lips twitched a little. ‘Let me save a little time and lay down some ground rules which I’m sure will benefit us both?’

It was in the form of a rhetorical question but Kim nodded nevertheless, it seemed to be expected somehow.

‘As I mentioned yesterday, I expect—demand—absolute loyalty from those close to me; anything less is unacceptable. As my secretary and personal assistant, you will be privy to all manner of confidential information, both with regard to business and my private life. I expect you to be unconditionally discreet in both areas.’

He had nodded at her to sit down when he had settled himself on the edge of the desk and Kim was thankful of it now; she felt utterly overwhelmed by the sheer magnetism of the man who was now her boss. Her boss. Her stomach turned right over and she swallowed hard. ‘Of course, Mr Kane.’

‘Lucas.’ He leant back slightly, the blue-black of his hair accentuated by the white sunlight behind him. ‘If you are serious about working with me, the second thing you have to learn is that all formality stops at that door.’ He nodded to the interconnecting door behind her. ‘You are my eyes and ears in this organisation and beyond, a valuable second opinion and ally who must be completely frank within the confines of these four walls.’

‘And if my opinion doesn’t fit in with yours?’ she asked with a careful neutrality that hid her jangling nerves.

He said nothing for a second, just looking at her with piercing eyes, and then he smiled. The first real smile she had seen. ‘I’m not looking for you to agree with me, necessarily,’ he said quietly, ‘but if you do disagree I expect your comments to be logical and well informed. I have enough sycophantic boot-lickers around already; I don’t need another one, Kim.’

It was the first time he had said her Christian name and, ridiculous though she told herself it was, it did something strange to her insides. Something she didn’t care to examine. He was too close. The thought came from nowhere and she told herself sharply she was acting like a skittish schoolgirl, not a mature woman of twenty-six.

To combat the weakness she forced herself to smile back, her tone light as she said, ‘Dare I ask if I can remind you of that in the future?’

The smile grew, turning the aggressively male face of hard angles and planes into a more mellow whole, and Kim watched, fascinated.

‘I have the feeling you will do so with or without my blessing,’ he said lazily, before levering himself off the desk in one easy movement and seating himself in the massive leather chair again. ‘Observe much, say little and keep your wits about you during the next few weeks, Kim, and you’ll do just fine. It’s nice to have you aboard.’

‘Thank you.’ It was a clear dismissal and Kim rose a trifle flusteredly, hoping her tension didn’t show. He was the most disturbing man she had ever met, but she had to find a way of coping with how she felt—and fast. This job was too fantastic an opportunity to blow.

It was that thought which enabled her to leave Lucas’s office with measured steps, her blonde head high and her face deadpan.

It would be all right, she assured herself, standing aside to let June pass into the Holy of Holies with the coffee. She had June to soften her absorption into the role of secretary to Lucas Kane and the other woman would be around for some weeks yet. After that…

Her heart began to thud and she clucked her tongue at herself, annoyed at her nervousness. After that she would be just what he wanted her to be—an efficient, cool, capable machine who ran his office like clockwork. She could do this. If nothing else, her time with Graham, not to mention the searing aftermath, had shown her she had hidden resources she had never dreamt of.

When she thought of that nightmare funeral, which had occurred the day after she had found out she was not only destitute but thousands and thousands of pounds in debt, she knew nothing could ever be as bad again.

But she had come through that, and not crawling on her belly, either—she’d carved out a reasonable life for herself and Melody and it was going to get better and better from this point on. She was in charge of her own destiny—hers and Melody’s—and the vow she had made standing in the pouring rain at the side of the newly dug grave still held good. Never again would she put her trust in any one man; she had learnt a hard lesson but she’d learnt it well. Men said one thing with their lips but their mind was thinking something else. They could be sweetness and light in company—with everyone else—but in the privacy of their own home turn into the devil incarnate.

She was autonomous now—blessedly, gloriously autonomous—and nothing, nothing, would ever persuade her to be anything else. And this job would ensure her material security in a way she had never imagined; it was her chance of a lifetime.

Secretary to Lucas Kane? Kim glanced at the closed door, beyond which she could hear the low murmur of voices. She was going to be the best secretary he’d ever had or die in the attempt!

CHAPTER THREE

OVER the next few weeks Kim worked as she had never worked before. She made copious notes of everything June told her, taking reams of paper home each night and sitting up until well past midnight, memorising anything and everything which was relevant. She acquainted herself with every file, every company, every individual who played a role in Lucas Kane’s business life until she had more facts and figures in her head than June did.

One of Melody’s schoolfriends lived directly opposite her daughter’s school and Kim came to an arrangement with the child’s mother that in return for the payment of a small fee she could drop Melody off at just gone eight every day, enabling the blue BMW to purr into Kane Electrical’s car park every morning before half-past eight.

Kim had imagined, the first day, that it would be just her and possibly the caretaker in the building, but Lucas’s sleek, champagne-coloured Aston Martin was already in residence when she had pulled up and it continued to be so every morning.

He had come to the door of his office on her early arrival and gazed quizzically at her for a moment or two, but beyond a request for one of the endless cups of coffee he consumed all day had made no comment.

Christmas had come and gone, and Kim had gulped slightly at the size of her very generous Christmas box from Lucas in the form of a cheque, and in the second week in January she and Melody had moved into the small but charming two-bedroomed cottage she had found not far from her daughter’s school.

And then the Monday of the third week was upon her, the first day June wouldn’t be there to cushion her from any minor panics, the other woman having left for Scotland the previous weekend. And Kim found she was as nervous as a child on its first day at school.

She’d gone to extra trouble with her appearance, the clothing allowance having enabled her to buy a new wardrobe consisting of several stylish, neatly tailored suits, blouses and accessories which perfectly projected the image Lucas Kane’s secretary needed to give, and Kim knew the dove-grey suit and salmon silk blouse complemented her English peaches and cream colouring.

Nevertheless, her soft brown eyes were wide and faintly anxious as she checked the coiled braid on the back of her head, her thick straight fringe just brushing the tops of her fine eyebrows.

‘Nothing has changed in the last forty-eight hours,’ she told the efficient-looking reflection softly. ‘You’ve been working for him for the last week or so with June doing little more than observing; you can handle anything now.’

Kim had to remind herself of that last comforting assurance in the next minute or two.

Over the last weeks she had slipped into the pattern of serving Lucas coffee as soon as she arrived in the office, but when, after the normal customary polite knock, Kim opened the door, it wasn’t the usual immaculately attired and perfectly groomed tycoon she had grown accustomed to who looked up from his desk.

Lucas had obviously been asleep until she had woken him, and now, as he straightened and peered at her from bleary eyes, Kim’s heartbeat went haywire.

It wasn’t the fact that he hadn’t shaved or brushed his hair, or that his dishevelled appearance bore evidence to the fact that he had slept in his clothes that had her insides turning cartwheels.

At some time during the last hours he had discarded his suit jacket along with his tie, and now his open shirt revealed a deep V of tanned flesh sprinkled with dark curling body hair and a muscled—devastatingly muscled—male chest of Olympic athlete proportions.

He worked out. He very clearly worked out. Kim was glued to the spot, the tray with the coffee and plate of biscuits wobbling dangerously in her hand. And he was… Well, he was something else, she admitted with silent shock. Clothed, he was pretty intimidating and all male, but partly clothed… No wonder June had told her that the fast car went with equally fast, glamorous women and a love ’em and leave ’em personal life where work—always—came first.

‘Not that it seems to put them off,’ June had murmured confidentially. ‘Of course, the circle he moves in are all of the same mind, I guess, so that helps. Lucas has never been one for the dumb blonde type female; he goes for brains as well as beauty. The last one was a lawyer, the one before that a mogul with her own business—they all seem to find him irresistible.’

She hadn’t made any comment at the time although she had silently told herself that irresistible was definitely not a word that came to mind when she thought of Lucas Kane, but now, if nothing else, she could appreciate what drew and held such women.

Taken off his guard like this, and with his office mode in abeyance for once, she was seeing the raw animal magnetism she had sensed once or twice—well, a lot more than once or twice, she admitted ruefully—in all its deadly power.

‘Hell, what’s the time?’ The silver eyes were clearing even as he spoke and granite was replacing the faint smoky hue that had been so stunningly sexy.

‘Eight-thirty.’ It was succinct but all she could manage until her hormones sorted themselves out.

‘Is that coffee? You’re an angel.’ He leant back in the chair and stretched magnificent muscles before raking back his hair, none of which did Kim’s equilibrium any favours. ‘I’ve been here most of the weekend; the Clarkson deal blew up in our face and needed some quality time.’

‘Right.’ Kim nodded in what she hoped was an informed, efficient sort of way and wondered if he was aware he was half naked. If he was it clearly didn’t bother him.

She placed the coffee and biscuits on the desk in front of him and prayed her face wasn’t as flushed as she feared it was.

‘But I’ve got it nailed.’ He reached for one of the biscuits and ate it in a hungry bite before reaching for another.

‘When did you eat last?’ she asked carefully.

‘Eat?’ The crystal-bright eyes that could be so piercingly intent were vague. ‘I don’t remember. Saturday, I think.’

‘Fancy some bacon sandwiches?’

‘Bacon sandwiches?’ He stared at her interestedly. ‘Don’t tell me you can provide those at a moment’s notice, Kim?’

‘Almost.’ She was fighting sexual arousal and it made her voice stiff. ‘There’s a little man on the corner who comes every morning in his mobile and does a roaring trade, apparently. Bacon sandwiches are his speciality.’

‘Then I’d like six rounds from your little man,’ Lucas said promptly, ‘with lashings of brown sauce.’

She inclined her head, as she imagined the estimable June would have done in the same circumstances, and forced herself to turn and walk towards the door. ‘I’ll be ten minutes or so,’ she said evenly over her shoulder and she didn’t look back.

She was fifteen minutes, and when she knocked for the second time that morning on Lucas’s door and walked into his office, her boss had transformed himself—courtesy of the small bathroom and dressing room, which were part of his executive suite—into his usual cool and impeccable self. But in spite of the fresh charcoal suit and pale blue shirt with matching tie, all Kim could see was a mental picture of acres and acres of finely honed muscled flesh and it was disconcerting, to say the least.

It didn’t help that his hair was still slightly damp from the shower and his freshly shaved face more relaxed than usual, either, and the hot prickle of overt sexual awareness that had hit her so forcefully earlier didn’t seem to want to die the death she was willing on it.

‘Six rounds of doorsteps with what looks like a pound of bacon in them,’ she said as expressionlessly as she could. ‘Eat them while they’re hot.’ She handed him the plate as she spoke.

‘You sound like my mother.’

His mother? She narrowed her eyes and smiled sweetly. ‘Don’t tell me you are one of those men who have a mother fixation,’ she said coolly before she thought too much about it and didn’t dare voice the tart retort which had sprung to mind.

‘I don’t think so.’ He was eyeing her with what could only be termed a glint, but a glint of what Kim wasn’t sure. ‘My mother is a wonderful woman and ideally suited to my father, but…no, I don’t think so.’ He took a bite of one of the sandwiches and closed his eyes in ecstasy.

‘How come I haven’t had bacon sandwiches from your little man before?’ he asked almost petulantly.

‘Because you didn’t ask?’ she suggested daringly.

The silver eyes fastened on her, pinning her to the spot, and Lucas smiled slowly. ‘I only have to ask?’ he drawled lazily.

She might have known she had no chance of winning in a war of words with him! Kim was disturbingly aware that something had shifted in the last few minutes, something that had been bubbling away under the surface from the first moment she had laid eyes on Lucas Kane—something that couldn’t, mustn’t, have expression. ‘I’ll get you another cup of coffee.’ She had turned and swept out of the room before he had time to take another bite.

Lucas smiled faintly to himself. There was more, much more, to his efficient, beautiful new secretary than met the eye; he had known that from the beginning. And was that why he had been tempted to choose Kim above other more qualified, experienced candidates?

The thought didn’t sit well with him and the smile turned into a frown. He had chosen Kim Allen because she was the most suitable applicant—qualifications and experience weren’t necessarily the be-all and end-all of a working relationship, he told himself sharply. There had to be a spark, a cutting edge, a quality that was undefinable but which told you any association would be healthy and productive without becoming dull or boring. He had never wanted a mindless android who wouldn’t say boo to a goose. That was why he had chosen Kim. And her qualifications were pretty good too, as was her experience.

June had had it—they had enjoyed some very real altercations in their time, he assured himself firmly, ignoring the little voice of honesty which suggested he was comparing chalk to cheese.

He was suddenly uncomfortable with his thoughts and, reaching for another sandwich, having finished the first, he turned his mind to the Clarkson file sitting in front of him, dismissing all further thoughts of Kim with the single-minded ruthlessness that had made Kane Electrical so successful in the last decade.

It took Kim a good deal longer to get her unregenerate thoughts under lock and key, but once she had succeeded she determined they wouldn’t escape again. Lucas Kane could prance around naked if he so desired and she wouldn’t turn a hair, she told herself on the drive home that evening.

She had to admit he had a certain something, a darkly seductive something—in fact it was a relief to acknowledge it and bring it out into the open, she assured herself firmly. He was a compellingly attractive man—most powerful, wealthy men had an aura that set them apart from the crowd—but it didn’t make them easy to live with or likeable.

And she didn’t have to like him; as long as she could respect his business acumen and flair and enjoy her work, that was all she wanted. His lifestyle and the way he conducted his personal relationships was absolutely no concern of hers; the fact that he embodied everything she most disliked in a man in that area didn’t mean she couldn’t work with him. He saw her as part of the office machinery, not a woman, and that made all the difference.

She was well satisfied with her reasoning by the time she drew up outside the school gates and parked the car, walking down the concrete drive and standing to one side of the big wooden doors as the first desultory snowflakes began to fall out of a laden sky.

By the time Melody emerged with one or two other children—the teacher standing just behind them and checking each child had its respective escort—the snow was coming down in thick fat white flakes that sent the children into transports of delight.

‘Mummy, it’s really snowing!’ Melody danced up to her, her small face alight. ‘Can we build a snowman in the garden?’

‘Maybe tomorrow, if it snows enough,’ Kim agreed warmly. The cottage had a delightful garden with a large lawn surrounded by mature trees and shrubs, and Melody had already commandeered a small corner of it, announcing she was going to plant her own herb garden in the spring.

She would, too, Kim thought fondly as they walked to the car. Anything she set her mind to, Melody did; her small daughter was bubbling over with confidence and vitality and thankfully had no memory of the last terrible months Graham had put them through before he had died.

She refused to dwell on thoughts of her late husband, concentrating on Melody and asking her small daughter about her day, but once Melody was in bed and the cottage was quiet she found the memories flooding in in spite of all her efforts to shut them out.

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