Praise for Kate Hardy’s writing:

‘Kate Hardy’s ONE NIGHT, ONE BABY is a terrific attraction-at-first-sight story. He’s hot, sexy and vulnerable, and she’s patient because, in the end, she knows he’ll be worth it.’

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

‘Kate Hardy is a writer readers can count on in order to deliver an entertaining page-turner which they will devour in a single sitting. BREAKFAST AT GIOVANNI’S is certainly no exception, so take the phone off the hook, put your feet up and lose yourself.’

—Cataromance.com

‘Lydia.’ He touched the back of his fingers lightly against her cheek. ‘I think we need to talk.’

Uh-oh. Here it came.

‘I need to be fair with you, Lydia. Whatever this thing is between us—and I can’t explain it either—I can’t offer you a future. But there’s no reason why we can’t have a mad fling and blow each other’s minds for the next few days. Well, apart from the fact that I’m your boss, and ethically that makes this completely wrong.’

But at that precise moment he couldn’t give a damn about ethics.

The only thing that filled his head was the need to touch her again.

‘I have a suggestion.’ He paused. ‘We spend a week here. Together. And this thing between us…we can get it out of our systems.’

‘You’re saying we should have an affair?’

‘With limits. So we know the deal right from the start.’

‘An affair,’ she repeated. ‘For a week. A seven-night stand.’

‘Put like that, it sounds tacky.’ He grimaced. ‘I’m trying not to be dishonourable. I can’t offer you more than an affair, Lydia. I can’t offer anyone more than that.’

She licked her lower lip, and he almost lost control again.

‘This is mad,’ she whispered. ‘You’re my boss.’

Dear Reader

I’ve always, always wanted to see the Northern Lights—ever since I was a tiny child. I’ve seen pictures and films, but the real thing must be amazing. I’d dearly love to visit the Arctic Circle on a February night (that’s the best time for seeing the lights), to see the heavens shimmering among the stars.

Lydia, my heroine, shares this dream. But the man who can make it come true for her is a workaholic who refuses to commit to a relationship: Mr Wrong. Or is he? When they agree to spend a week in Norway together it teaches them a lot about themselves, about love, and about possibilities. Not to mention discovering a passion that could melt the ice hotel!

I thoroughly enjoyed discovering the glamorous side of Norway: the art and architecture, the history and the amazing ice hotels. And I did some physical research, too: while I was writing the book the UK had its coldest snap for years, so when I fed the birds in my back garden I could experience precisely what the temperature was like inside an ice hotel. My daughter was delighted to help me cook and taste-test Norwegian waffles, and we all went to see some reindeer. And that set me thinking about the perfect fairytale wedding in a land of ice and snow…

I’m always delighted to hear from readers, so do come and visit me at www.katehardy.com

With love

Kate Hardy

Kate Hardy lives in Norwich, in the east of England, with her husband, two young children, and too many books to count! When she’s not busy writing romance or researching local history, she helps out at her children’s schools; she’s a school governor and chair of the PTA. She also loves cooking—see if you can spot the recipes sneaked into her books! (They’re also on her website, along with extracts and stories behind the books.)

Writing for Mills & Boon has been a dream come true for Kate—something she wanted to do ever since she was twelve. She’s been writing Mills & Boon® Medical™ Romances for nearly five years now, and also writes for Modern Heat™. She says it’s the best of both worlds because she gets to learn lots of new things when she’s researching the background to a book: add a touch of passion, drama and danger, a new gorgeous hero every time, and it’s the perfect job!

Kate is always delighted to hear from readers, so do visit her at www.katehardy.com

TEMPORARY BOSS, PERMANENT MISTRESS

BY

KATE HARDY

MILLS & BOON®

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Recent titles by the same author:

Modern Heat™

PLAYBOY BOSS, PREGNANCY OF PASSION (To Tame a Playboy duet)

SURRENDER TO THE PLAYBOY SHEIKH (To Tame a Playboy duet)

Medical™ Romance

THE CHILDREN’S DOCTOR’S SPECIAL PROPOSAL (The London Victoria duet)

THE GREEK DOCTOR’S NEW-YEAR BABY (The London Victoria duet)

Dedication

For Nicola Cornick—whose friendship and books I value enormously—with thanks for letting me grill her about her own Arctic Circle adventure.

CHAPTER ONE

‘MATT rang in first thing this morning. The kids have brought a bug home from school and he’s been throwing up practically all night—he doesn’t think he’ll be back until Friday at the earliest,’ Judith explained apologetically.

It was much better that the head of the legal department should stay at home rather than struggle into work and share the virus with his colleagues. Jake had no problem with that. He didn’t bother asking about Adam, because he already knew where Matt’s second in command was. On paternity leave.

Babies and kids everywhere.

Everywhere except…

He pushed the thought away. With Matt away, he needed to make alternative arrangements. ‘So that leaves Lydia and Tim.’

‘I’m sorry.’ The secretary made a face, looking embarrassed. ‘They’re both at lunch right now.’

‘Don’t keep apologising. It’s not your fault.’ Jake frowned. He could reschedule the trip to Norway, but he was keen to get this deal sorted. And out of the two remaining members of the legal team…Tim could talk the talk, all right, but he didn’t have Lydia’s experience or knowledge, and he was perhaps a little too hungry for results. Jake needed someone calm, someone confident, someone who would pay attention to detail.

‘Lydia will have to do. Ask her to come and see me when she gets back from lunch, would you, please?’

‘Yes, Mr Ande—’

‘Jake,’ he cut in gently. ‘We don’t do formality at Andersen’s.’ It was the first thing he’d changed, the day his father retired and he took over as CEO: dropping the formality and opening things up a bit. But, nearly two years later, some of the staff still hadn’t quite got used to calling the boss by his first name.

‘Yes, M—Jake,’ the secretary corrected herself quickly.

‘Thank you, Judith.’ He gave her a swift smile, and headed for his office.

Lydia will have to do.

That said it all.

And it rankled, even though Lydia acknowledged the justice of the remark. Jakob Andersen was sharp enough to know exactly what was going on in every single division of the company. To know what every member of his staff was capable of doing, to know what worked and what didn’t, and where things needed moving around. He’d spent six months working in each department before he’d taken over as CEO, so he knew what every part of the company did and what challenges his employees faced. Anyone who’d been tempted to grumble that he’d only walked into the job because he was the boss’s son had quickly changed their minds. Jake wasn’t a delegator who spent all his time wafting around or in long lunches. He was a hands-on leader who saw what needed doing and made sure it was done and, if need be, he rolled up his sleeves and did it himself.

So doubtless he’d already spotted that Lydia Sheridan just wasn’t cut out to be a corporate lawyer.

Lydia had the right background and the right training. What she didn’t have was the shark instinct.

She’d been trying to kid herself for years. Trying to be the child her parents had wanted. Trying to be the person everyone else wanted her to be. Now, maybe, she thought, it was time to stop trying and just be herself.

So she would go to see Jake, at his request. But she had a feeling that he wasn’t going to like what she was going to say. Because Lydia Sheridan wasn’t going to ‘do’ at all.

‘Oh, good, Lydia, you’re back,’ Judith said as she walked into the reception area. ‘The CEO just came by—he wants to see you asap.’

‘Sure.’ Lydia summoned a smile. It wasn’t Judith’s fault that Lydia wasn’t cut out for her job, so she wasn’t going to take out her frustrations on the departmental secretary. ‘I’ll go now.’

When she reached Jake’s office, his door was wide open, but she knocked anyway.

He looked up from his desk. ‘Come in. Take a seat.’

As always, she found herself assessing him, itching to pick up pastels and a sketchpad and start drawing him. Jakob Andersen was simply beautiful. His piercing blue eyes demanded—no, commanded—attention and, teamed with his dark spiky hair and pale Nordic skin, were absolutely stunning. Though his face was maybe a little too thin and angular, and the slight dark smudges beneath his eyes said that he drove himself too hard. Since his two-month sabbatical, eighteen months before, he’d put in ridiculous hours. From what Lydia had heard, he was always the first one in the office and the last to leave.

What was he running from?

Not that it was any of her business. Besides, she wasn’t supposed to be wool-gathering. He’d summoned her, which no doubt meant he needed her to sort out some legal nicety for him.

She sat down on the chair he’d indicated. ‘Judith said you wanted to see me.’

‘I have to go to Norway tomorrow to sort out some contracts. I need you to come with me.’

Abrupt and straight to the point.

Only…she wasn’t quite buying this. Not after what she’d heard him say to Judith. And, given the reason she’d already decided to see him, she didn’t need to be polite and pussyfoot around. She could be just as straight—all the way back. ‘You need me.’

He frowned, clearly picking up the scorn in her tone. ‘Yes.’

‘That’s a bit hard to believe,’ she said.

His frown deepened. ‘Meaning?’

‘I overheard you saying that I’d have to do.’

He leaned back in his chair and raked a hand through his hair. ‘Ah. That.’

At least he wasn’t denying it.

‘Actually, I didn’t mean it quite in that way,’ he said.

‘No?’

‘No. I admit, you’re not my first choice,’ he said. ‘I’d arranged to go with Matt, but he’s off sick and Adam’s away. I know that both of them have dealt with this kind of thing before, and Matt speaks Norwegian, so it would have saved some time. But it’s no matter. I’ll translate for you, where necessary.’

‘There’s no need.’

It was his turn to question her. ‘You speak Norwegian?’

‘No. I was going to come and see you anyway, this afternoon,’ she said quietly. ‘To hand in my notice.’

He blinked, obviously taken by surprise. ‘Why?’

‘Because you’re right. I’m not cut out to be a corporate lawyer.’

‘I didn’t say that. At all.’ He looked straight at her. ‘Your work is meticulous, Lydia.’

Because she made damn sure it was. It was a point of pride. Her work wasn’t the problem. She was. ‘I’m not like Tim—I’m not hungry to win.’

‘Tim,’ he said, ‘would be completely the wrong lawyer for this deal. He needs to tone down.’

What? Weren’t all corporate lawyers supposed to be driven, hungry for success? ‘How do you mean, tone down?’ she asked carefully.

‘He needs to be able to sum up a situation quickly and know the right tactics to use—when to take it softly and when to push. If you go in with high-pressure tactics in Norway, you’ll lose out. I need someone who’s calm and competent, who knows the facts and will cut through the hype, and who’ll meet deadlines and commitments.’ He ticked the requirements off on his fingers. ‘Someone straightforward. From what Matt tells me of your work, you’re perfectly capable of all that, or you wouldn’t be working at Andersen’s.’ His gaze met hers. ‘Your problem is, you lack confidence.’

How would he know? Although she was aware that he’d spent time working in the legal department, it had been before she’d joined the company. She’d only ever worked with him on projects as part of a larger team, never one-to-one.

Before she had the chance to protest, he added, ‘You’re good enough to do the job; you just don’t think you are. You need to work on that. I’ll tell Adam to add that to your objectives at your next appraisal and send you on some assertiveness training.’

Businesslike and to the point. And Lydia felt as if she’d been steamrollered. This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go. At all. He thought she’d got cold feet, was having a minor confidence wobble? That wasn’t the half of it. ‘I was trying to resign,’ she reminded him.

‘I know. And I’m not accepting your resignation. Apart from the fact that the legal team is under strength right now—so it’d put us in a mess if I let you go—you do your job well. So there’s no reason for you to leave.’ He rested both elbows on his desk, steepling his fingers, and looked her straight in the eye. ‘Unless you’ve had a better offer elsewhere?’

This was her cue to negotiate a pay rise. To claim that she’d been offered a huge salary and longer holidays with a rival company, so Jake would offer to match the deal.

Except…She wasn’t a shark.

This wasn’t about negotiating more money.

This was about facing what she’d known even before she took the job. About finding her real place in the world. The timing was all wrong, she knew—who in their right mind would leave a steady job to chase a dream, in the middle of a recession?

But it wasn’t as if she had any dependants.

And she had savings.

She’d manage.

‘No, I haven’t had a better offer,’ she said quietly. At least, not ‘better’ in the way that any businessman would see it.

Concern flickered in his face. ‘Is there a problem you’re not telling me about? Harassment of any sort?’

‘Of course not.’ She found Tim a bit wearing, for precisely the reasons that Jake had outlined, but she enjoyed working with Matt and Adam.

‘Then I don’t see any reason for you to resign. Except maybe the fact that you’re undervaluing yourself.’

Maybe she was. Which was why she’d become a lawyer in the first place. In some ways, although it had meant years of hard work, it had been an easier option. Easier to give in instead of being stubborn and holding out for what she knew she really wanted out of life. To paint. She’d wanted to paint for years, but when she’d told her parents she wanted to take Art as one of her A levels they’d reacted badly. Why would the daughter of a QC and a top solicitor want to become an artist—to go and starve in a Parisian garret, doing a job that wouldn’t even pay her rent? Ridiculous. And they’d refused to listen to her art teacher, too.

So she’d tried to please them. She’d studied History and Economics and Law, ending up with top marks and a place to read law at university. She’d trained as a solicitor and found herself a job as a corporate lawyer.

And she’d kept her sketching a secret between herself and her godmother, Polly.

‘I don’t want to be a lawyer any more,’ she said.

He leaned back in his chair. ‘You’ve fallen out of love with your job? It happens.’

He actually seemed to understand—and she really hadn’t expected that. So Jake knew other people who’d reached a point in their career where they just stopped wanting to do it?

Almost as if she’d asked the question out loud, he said, ‘Been there, done that, myself.’ For a brief moment, there was something in his eyes, but he’d masked it before she could read it. ‘And the way round it is to give yourself a new challenge. I think this job might do that for you.’

She wasn’t convinced. She’d stopped loving what she did a long time ago. If she was honest, she’d never really loved it in the first place. She’d just done it because she’d thought it was the right thing to do.

And over the years it had begun to feel so very much the wrong thing. She didn’t see how she could ever fall in love with her job again. ‘What if it doesn’t?’

‘Do this one job for me,’ he said, ‘and if you still feel the same way afterwards, then I’ll accept your resignation—backdated to today.’

Put that way, it seemed reasonable. And what difference would another few days make? ‘All right.’

He glanced at his watch. ‘I imagine this gives you enough time to rearrange your meetings for the next couple of days?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good. Now, clothes.’ He appraised her. ‘Your suit’s fine for business. We’ll be in the south of the country, so it won’t be quite as cold as the north, but you’ll still need a windproof coat and boots—do you have any?’

Jake clearly didn’t believe in social chat. And this was the longest conversation Lydia could remember having with him. It was the only meeting she’d had with him, one-to-one, in the three years she’d been working at Andersen’s; though she remembered he’d been just as incisive in the presentations and meetings she’d attended along with Matt or Adam.

‘Coat and boots?’ he repeated, raising his eyebrows.

Oh, great. Now he’d think she had the attention span of a gnat. ‘Yes, I have a coat and boots.’

‘Good.’

‘How long are we going for?’

‘Until Friday—though if there are complications we might need to work on Saturday morning and fly back on Sunday. Have you been to Norway before?’

‘No. Though I’ve always wanted to see the fjords and the Northern Lights,’ she admitted. To sketch them—to capture the pure, clean Nordic light in pastels.

He regarded her thoughtfully. ‘If you wanted to stay for a couple of days afterwards and take the chance to do a bit of sightseeing, I can arrange for you to have an open return flight. Andersen’s will pick up your hotel bill, to make up for eating into your weekend and evenings.’

That was an offer she definitely wasn’t going to refuse. ‘Thank you. I appreciate that. Though I’d better call Matt and check it’s OK for me to take time off next week.’

‘Sure. I’ll get Ingrid to sort out the travel details and let you know what’s happening.’

It was a dismissal. Polite enough, but still a dismissal. She smiled politely, and left his office.

Jake couldn’t settle back to work when Lydia had gone; every time he looked at the figures on his computer screen, his mind kept supplying a picture of Lydia.

On the face of it, Lydia Sheridan was the perfect corporate lawyer, with her power business suit, her mid-brown hair groomed into a sleek, shiny bob, and the ‘barely there’ makeup that told you she was serious rather than playing up her feminine charms.

She looked the part. He knew that she could certainly do the part; Matt had said several times that Lydia quietly picked up details other people missed.

But something in her dark eyes had told him that it wasn’t who she was.

She’d even said it herself: I don’t want to be a lawyer any more.

Ha. He knew that crossroads well. The point in your life when you wondered if you’d wasted years doing something you hadn’t really wanted to do all along—something you just didn’t want to do any more. The point in your life where you wondered just what it was that you really, really wanted.

And he stood by his own advice. The way forward was to give yourself a new challenge. Something to strive for. Something to help you ignore the questions.

He dismissed the thought that he hadn’t found his own challenge yet. Or that he was filling his hours with a ridiculous level of work so he didn’t have to think about what he really wanted from life—and how far it was from what he could actually have.

Jake shook himself and went back to poring over a set of figures. But then his email pinged: his PA had organised the flights and booked the accommodation.

Really, he should ask Ingrid to email the details to Lydia.

Then again, he still needed to brief her about the deal in Oslo.

It was something he could do perfectly adequately—and probably more quickly—by email. Or by sending Ingrid over to Lydia with the file. But somehow he found himself with the file in his hand, striding towards the legal department.

Lydia looked up from her desk as he walked into the openplan office.

‘You might want to read this before tomorrow,’ he said, handing her the file. ‘It’s the background to the deal I’m setting up with Nils Pedersen’s company in Oslo. Call me if you have any questions. I’ll leave my mobile switched on this evening.’

‘Noted,’ she said coolly, and he knew she wouldn’t call him.

He should go back to his own desk. Right now. Not linger and try to work out what that soft perfume was. Not wonder if her mouth was as soft as it looked.

‘Did you manage to move your meetings?’

She nodded. ‘No problem.’

‘And you’ve spoken to Matt?’

‘Via his wife, yes. He says it’s OK for me to take next week off because he’ll be back then.’

‘Good. I’ll see you at the airport at half-past nine tomorrow.’

‘Nine-thirty it is.’

She was in brisk, professional lawyer mode. Efficient and quiet. Though he had a feeling that she was wearing a mask as smooth as his own. What would make her light up from the inside? he wondered.

Realising where his thoughts were going, he shook himself mentally. No. He didn’t get involved nowadays. The one constant in his life was work, and he had no intentions of messing that up by having an affair with someone in the office

Besides, Lydia Sheridan wasn’t the type who’d have a temporary fling, and that was all he could offer. Jakob Andersen, heir to a shipping dynasty and CEO of Andersen Marine, couldn’t offer a woman a future. Couldn’t offer her anything other than wealth.

And that wasn’t nearly enough.

CHAPTER TWO

WHEN Lydia walked into the departure lounge at twenty-five past nine, the next morning, Jake was already there, sitting on a chair with his right ankle resting on his left knee to make a temporary desk and a sheaf of papers cradled on his lap. There was a pen in his right hand and a mobile phone in his left, and he looked completely in command of the situation.

No wonder he was drawing admiring glances from every single female in the vicinity. That aura of confidence was incredibly sexy.

Add the fact that he had the most beautiful mouth, and…

Lydia shook herself, horrified to find herself actually fantasising about walking up to Jake and kissing him stupid. Apart from the fact that he was her boss, and therefore off limits, she’d steered clear of serious relationships since she was twenty.

Ever since she’d dated the unsuitable artist she’d overheard her father buying off.

Her disillusionment had been total. Before that fateful afternoon, she’d seriously considered dropping out of university and following her heart, despite the fact that she’d known she’d be disappointing her parents. Because it would have meant being with the man she loved and making a living out of doing what she really wanted to do. It hadn’t mattered that she and Robbie would have been practically penniless; she’d known they’d work it out, somehow, because they were a team. She’d been so sure that Robbie had loved her just as much as she had loved him.

Until she’d overheard that conversation.

And realised that Robbie hadn’t hesitated even for a second before taking her father’s cheque.

He’d broken up with her later that evening—just as he’d promised her father he would. He’d looked her straight in the eye and told her he was sorry, but he’d fallen in love with someone else—and she knew damn well he hadn’t.

It had been a something, not a someone.

Money.

She dragged in a breath. That was then. This was now. But she hadn’t quite let herself trust anyone since. For the year and a half after Robbie, she’d taken refuge in her studies, working hard to make sure she graduated with first-class honours and had people falling over themselves to offer her a training contract. Sure, she’d dated a few men since she left university—if she hadn’t, she knew that her best friend, Emma, would have insisted on matchmaking—but she’d always kept things casual, never accepting more than half a dozen dates before saying gently that she thought they’d be better off as friends.

When was the last time she’d felt a pull of attraction like this? An urge to cup someone’s face between her hands and lower her mouth to his and kiss him until they were both breathless, regardless of the fact that they were in a public place?

She couldn’t remember.

But what she did know was that Jakob Anderson was definitely Mr Wrong. He was her boss. So there couldn’t be a future in this.

As for the fact that she was planning huge changes in her life, changes that meant he wouldn’t be her boss for much longer…Well, those changes also meant she wouldn’t have time for anything else in her life. So it was pointless starting anything.

She lifted her chin, pinned a smile to her face that she didn’t quite feel, and went over to sit beside him.

He acknowledged her with a nod and a brief waggle of his fingers, wrapped up his call, and turned to her. ‘Good morning, Lydia.’

‘Good morning.’

He glanced at his watch. ‘Thanks for being punctual.’ He smiled at her and she was suddenly glad she was sitting down as her knees actually went weak.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He scrutinised her boots. ‘Are they waterproof?’

‘They’re leather.’

‘And they’ll be ruined within a day.’ He flapped a dismissive hand. ‘Never mind, we’ll get you something at the airport when we land. At least your coat is suitable.’

‘And it’s definitely windproof.’

He tipped his head slightly to one side. ‘And you know that, how?’

‘My best friend nagged me into doing a sponsored walk coast to coast with her. Let’s just say the north of England can be a bit windy. And wet.’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you sure that you really need a lawyer with you? You seem to be quite good at grilling people.’

He laughed. ‘Force of habit. I apologise. Do you want a coffee?’

‘Do I have time to get one before our flight?’

He surprised her by scooping up his papers and putting them in his briefcase. ‘Stay put and I’ll get them—what do you want?’

‘Latte, if they have it, please. Otherwise, just ordinary coffee with milk, no sugar. But, hang on, shouldn’t I be getting these?’

Jake stood up. ‘Why?’

‘Because you’re the head of the company, and technically I’m your junior.’

‘You’re my colleague,’ he corrected, ‘so we’ll take it in turns to fetch coffee.’ His tone brooked no argument. ‘Do you want anything to eat?’

‘Thanks for the offer, but no. I’m fine.’

She watched him walk away, his movements easy and graceful and incredibly sexy, and her fingers itched to sketch him.

To touch him.

Down, girl, she warned her libido silently. Wrong time, wrong place, wrong man.

He returned with coffee and gingerbread. ‘It was fresh out of the oven. I’m prepared to share, but I won’t argue if you refuse.’

‘Your weakness?’ she guessed.

‘Blame it on memories of Saturday mornings in my Norwegian grandmother’s kitchen.’ He grinned, suddenly looking younger, and her heart skipped a beat. Jakob Andersen in work mode was gorgeous enough. In play mode, he was breathtaking.

His fingers brushed against hers as he handed her the coffee, sending a shiver of desire down her spine. She hoped he hadn’t noticed; the last thing she needed now was complications.

One last job. That was what they’d agreed. And then she could resign and get on with the life she really wanted to lead.

‘Do you mind if I…?’ He fished his phone from his inside pocket.

‘Sure. I have stuff to be getting on with, too.’ Emails of her own to check on her BlackBerry.

‘Fine. Help yourself to gingerbread.’

She didn’t dare. Just in case she reached for the bag at the same time as him, and their fingers ended up tangling, and she ended up blurting out the crazy ideas in her head.

This really wasn’t on. For all she knew, Jake was already committed elsewhere, and the last thing they needed was an embarrassing situation just before they left the country to work together for a few days.

An insidious voice in her head reminded her that Jakob Andersen worked the kind of hours that few women would put up with, so he was probably single.

But she refused to listen. As far as she was concerned, he was off limits and staying that way.

Lydia had just about got herself under control by the time they checked in and boarded the plane. Jake was busy reading through paperwork; she knew she ought to do the same, but he’d given her the window seat and the pattern of clouds was irresistible. A glance told her that Jake was totally absorbed in what he was doing, so she took out the sketchpad and tin of pencils she always carried in her handbag, and began sketching. She worked swiftly, her pencil skimming the page.

And then she realised what she was sketching. Not the clouds: a picture in her mind’s eye.

Jake.

Flushing, she closed her sketchbook and stuffed it back into her handbag. Better to concentrate on her paperwork. She opened her file, and forced herself to focus on the words in front of her.

Jake was aware of the sudden flush on Lydia’s cheeks. What had happened to make her colour rise like that?

He was horribly aware that he’d like to see her skin bloom with colour in a completely different situation. One where her breathing would be ragged and her eyes would be wide with desire and her mouth would be parted and…

No.

Apart from the fact that he never dated anyone who worked for him—in his view, mixing work and relationships always ended in a mess—thoughts like these were completely inappropriate. For all he knew, Lydia was in a serious, committed relationship. There were no rings on her left hand, but that meant nothing.

Though he had heard Tim refer to her as the ice queen, as if she never dated.

The ice queen. Ha. More proof that the junior lawyer still had a lot of growing up to do. Just by looking at her, Jake could tell there was nothing icy about Lydia Sheridan. Her mouth had a sensual curve that would make any man want to reach over and touch.

Taste.

And right now he was beginning to wish that he’d brought Tim with him instead of Lydia. Because Lydia was the first woman who’d tempted him since Grace—and he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to resist.

Two hours later, the plane landed and they disembarked. It was raining, and Lydia was glad of her coat as they hurried across to the terminal.

‘There’s a saying in Norway: God made the country so beautiful, he must wash it every day,’ Jake said, as if reading her mind. ‘Oslo’s beautiful at night, when all the lights reflect on the wet ground.’

She could imagine it. ‘I was expecting it to be darker than this.’

‘The polar nights, you mean?’ He shook his head. ‘We’re in the south of the country, so at this time of year there are six hours of sunlight—it’s not that much different from London. Dusk and dawn are a bit longer, maybe. Further north it’s twilight, but it’s still light enough to read by at midday.’

‘Takk,’ she said.

He looked at her in surprise. ‘I thought you said you didn’t speak Norwegian?’

‘I learned a couple of phrases last night. To be polite.’

He gave her an approving smile. ‘Good thinking. That’ll go down well at Pedersen’s. And if you want me to teach you…’

She completely missed the rest of his sentence. Because for a moment she could imagine him teaching her something, and rewarding her with a kiss. That beautiful, beautiful mouth lowering towards hers, teasing her and tasting her and arousing her until…

‘Lydia?’

‘Sorry. I was distracted by the scenery,’ she said. It wasn’t a total fib. Just that the pictures happened to be in her head, not outside. ‘You were saying?’

‘You’re happy with the agenda?’

‘It’s fine. No questions.’

‘Good. Oh, and keep a note of any calls you make to England from here. Andersen’s will reimburse you.’

‘Why would I call England?’ she asked, mystified.

‘Your family. To let them know you’ve arrived safely,’ he suggested.

It hadn’t occurred to her. She hadn’t even told her parents that she’d be out of the country; the gulf between them had widened over the years so that she spoke to them maybe once a fortnight, and saw them even less.

Though she had told her godmother and her best friend that she’d be away. She’d promised to send postcards and take lots of photographs, especially of the Northern Lights.

‘I’ll call them later,’ she prevaricated, not wanting to admit how difficult things were between her and her parents. ‘My father will be in court at this time of day, and my mother will be in a briefing meeting.’ And even if they weren’t, they’d be too busy to talk to her.

‘Then, if you’ll excuse me?’ he asked.

Jake was calling his parents?

Now that she hadn’t expected.

He tapped a button on his phone. ‘Mum? Yes, it’s Jake. We’re at Oslo Airport, safe and sound, so you can stop worrying now.’ He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corner. ‘OK. Since Dad’s on the golf course, you can tell him for me. I’ll call you tonight.’ His smile broadened. ‘I love you, too.’

When had she last said, ‘I love you,’ to her parents?

Then again, when had they last said it to her?

Jake’s ease with his family unsettled Lydia. Particularly when his next call was conducted in Norwegian—and he had the same sweet, loving smile on his face when he said, ‘Jeg er glad i deg.’ She didn’t need a translation. This was obviously the Norwegian side of his family, and he was close to them, too.

He glanced at his watch as he put his phone away. ‘Our meeting’s at three, Norwegian time,’ he said. ‘Which means we have an hour and a half. It’s going to be quickest for us to buy your boots here, then catch the shuttle train to the hotel—it’ll take twice as long to get there by taxi. We’ll have just about enough time to check in and unpack before we go to the office.’

‘I don’t need boots. These are fine,’ Lydia protested.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘You’ve been to Norway before?’

‘No,’ she admitted.

‘Then perhaps you’ll agree that I’m in a better position to judge. You do have shoes to change into, in the office?’ he checked.

‘Yes.’

‘Good. That makes it easier.’ Once they’d collected their luggage and gone through passport control, Jake ushered her over to the shopping area, asked her shoe size, then spoke in rapid Norwegian. With brisk efficiency, the assistant brought her three different styles of boots, and when she’d chosen the ones that fitted best her own boots were wrapped up and Jake had paid before she could stop him.

‘I’m quite capable of paying for my own boots,’ she said as they left the shop.

‘I know, but it’s quicker this way. We’ll sort it out later,’ he said.

The train took about twenty minutes and their hotel was only a couple of minutes’ walk away from the station. ‘Wow,’ she said at her first glimpse of the sheer glass tower, silver against the grey sky. ‘That’s gorgeous.’

‘It looks even better when the sky’s blue,’ he said. ‘I had Ingrid book rooms for us on the thirtieth floor. The views are fantastic.’

He’d understated it, she thought when she unlocked her room and saw the fjord spreading out below. Instead of unpacking, she spent her time just drinking in the view. This was definitely something she’d sketch, later.

She heard a knock at the door, and glanced at her watch. They needed to be going. Quickly, she slipped her shoes into her briefcase, gathered up her coat and handbag and opened the door. ‘Sorry. I was admiring the view.’

‘Hopefully we’ll have time for me to show you a bit of the city in the evenings. If it dries up,’ he said with a smile. ‘It’s not far to Nils’s office, but it’s bucketing down outside so I’ve booked us a taxi.’

Nils Pedersen’s office was in Aker Brygge Wharf. ‘It used to be a shipyard,’ Jake explained on the way there, ‘but it’s been developed as a business and tourist centre. It’s really pretty in the summer. My grandfather says that when he was a boy, in the winter the fjord would freeze and they’d make roads with sledges on the ice, and as spring came they’d cut channels in the ice. Of course, winters are milder now.’

‘You really love Norway, don’t you?’ she asked.

‘Of course. It’s my home, where my father’s family live.’ He smiled. ‘I guess I’m greedy, because England’s home, too. My mother’s English.’

At the office, they were shown into a conference room; Jake introduced Lydia to the people who were already sitting at the table.

‘God ettermiddag,’ she said, and her effort was rewarded with a beaming smile from everyone who shook her hand.

She wasn’t surprised that the meeting was brisk and efficient, cutting through the personal niceties and sticking strictly to business—she could definitely see where Jake got that from. But when the meeting ended at four-thirty, she raised an eyebrow.

‘Normal office hours in Norway are eight till four,’ he explained as they left. ‘Pedersen’s have already accommodated us by working later tonight. And dinner’s early in Norway, too—we eat at six rather than eight. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve accepted Nils’s invitation to dine with him and his family tonight.’

‘No worries. I wasn’t expecting you to look after me every minute of the day. I’ll order something from room service.’

‘That isn’t what I meant. The invitation’s for both of us,’ he said gently. ‘I wouldn’t be selfish enough to abandon you in a country you’d never been to before.’

‘Oh.’ She flushed. ‘Well, just let me know the dress code. And any points of etiquette that aren’t the same as in England.’

‘Smart casual, nothing too glittery. All you need to remember is that we won’t talk business tonight—in Norway, we keep business and home separate. Oh, and take your shoes off at the door. Otherwise, just be yourself.’ He smiled. ‘Nils was impressed that you’d taken the trouble to learn some Norwegian—especially when I told him I’d only drafted you in yesterday. Elisabet—his wife—speaks English, so there will be no problem tonight.’

They went back to the hotel via the main shopping street, where Jake chose a good bottle of white wine and some bright pink gerberas.

‘Do Nils and Elisabet have children?’ she asked.

‘Yes, a boy and a girl. They’re both at nursery.’

‘We should take them something, too. Could I buy them some art stuff?’

Jake looked surprised for a moment, then nodded. ‘Better than taking them sweets. If you think they’ll like them, that is.’

‘My best friend’s a primary school teacher. According to her, all kids love art stuff.’

‘I wouldn’t know.’

Jake’s face was completely unreadable, but Lydia had the distinct feeling that she’d just trampled over a sore spot. And it was pretty fair to assume now that Jake was definitely single with no kids. Or maybe that was it: he was divorced, and his ex had made access to his children impossible—maybe by moving away.

Not that it was any of her business.

But she made a mental note to be tactful in future.

Jake took her to a toyshop and let her choose various craft gifts, which she insisted on paying for. ‘I’m a guest, too, and, as you’ve already bought wine and flowers, I’m buying these. No arguments.’

He inclined his head and allowed her to pay.

Back at the hotel, Lydia had enough time to shower and change into a simple black dress and low-heeled court shoes before the taxi arrived.

‘You look nice,’ Jake said approvingly when she opened the door to him.

‘Thank you. So do you.’ Though that was an understatement. His blue shirt really brought out the colour of his eyes. He’d clearly just shaved, too, and for a mad moment she found her hand lifting to touch his face, feel how soft his skin was.

She just about managed to stop herself, and was glad she had when he said coolly, ‘The taxi should be waiting for us downstairs.’

They arrived at the Pedersens’ at two minutes to six, and Nils welcomed them warmly, introducing them to his wife Elisabet. The two children peeped shyly from behind Elisabet’s skirts.

Jake crouched down to their level and held out his hand, speaking gently in Norwegian, and the little boy shook his hand solemnly, followed by his little sister.

Lydia followed his lead. ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Beklager, I don’t speak much Norwegian. I’m English.’

Elisabet translated rapidly for the children, then smiled at Lydia. ‘This is Morten.’

‘Hello,’ the little boy said, and shook her hand.

‘And this is Kristin.’

‘Hello,’ the little girl said shyly, copying her brother. Jake straightened up. ‘Thank you for inviting us over. It’s very kind of you,’ he said, handing the flowers to Elisabet and the wine to Nils.

‘And we thought the children might like these,’ Lydia said, indicating the bag she was carrying, ‘but if I give them to you, Mrs Pedersen, you can let the children have them at a better time. It’s pencils and stickers and paper, that sort of thing.’

‘Call me Elisabet. And tusen takk for the gift—thank you so much. How lovely. They adore drawing,’ Elisabet said with a smile. ‘They’re off to bed soon, but they’d enjoy making a picture now, if you’d like to give them the presents yourself?’

Lydia glanced at Jake, who nodded and said something swiftly in the children’s own language.

Shyly, Morten accepted the bag; and although Lydia couldn’t understand more than takk from the little boy’s excited babble, she could see the pleasure on both children’s faces.

‘Come through. I will get you a drink,’ Nils said.

‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ Lydia asked.

‘You can join me in the kitchen, if you like.’ Elisabet scooped up her daughter. ‘Where I can finish preparing dinner and keep an eye on these two.’

‘You can probably get Lydia to draw them something,’ Jake said. ‘She’s good at art.’

Lydia’s heart skipped a beat. How did he know? Had he seen her sketching on the plane? She only hoped that he’d seen her sketches of the clouds, not the portrait she’d drawn of him. A quick glance at his face left her none the wiser; his expression was completely unreadable.

‘Come through,’ Elisabet said, leading the way to the kitchen. She helped Kristin onto a stool by the breakfast bar and watched as Morten climbed up next to her; within seconds, the children had the pencils and paper spread across the work surface and were busy drawing patterns.

‘Takk for translating for me,’ Lydia said. ‘I’m sorry, I only knew I was coming to Norway yesterday afternoon. I haven’t had time to learn more than please, thank you and hello.’

‘It’s good that you’ve learned that much,’ Elisabet said. ‘Though most Norwegians speak English.’

‘Are those the children’s drawings from school?’ She gestured to the pictures held on the fridge with magnets. ‘They’re very good.’

‘Thank you. And Jake said you’re good at art?’

‘I sketch a bit,’ Lydia said diffidently. ‘Maybe I could teach the children to draw something? A cat for Morten and a butterfly for Kristin to colour, maybe?’

‘That would be lovely.’ Elisabet translated rapidly for the children, who beamed. ‘I think that’s a yes,’ she said with a smile.

‘Shouldn’t I help you with something, first?’ Lydia asked.

‘You already are. You’re keeping the children happy,’ Elisabet said.

Lydia took a piece of paper, then drew the outline of a butterfly for Kristin. She picked up a pink pencil and drew a simple curved shape inside the outline, colouring it in, then offered the pencil to the little girl. Kristin took it shyly, and drew a shape herself; once Lydia was sure that the little girl was happy, she showed Morten how to draw a simple outline of a cat. The little boy copied it haltingly.

‘Very good,’ she said, clapping.

He beamed at her, and drew a second cat, this time with more confidence, then a third; he called out to his mother, who came to inspect it and praised him.

‘I envy you. I’m not so good at art—I can barely draw a straight line with a ruler,’ Elisabet confessed. ‘I hate it if they sign me up to do arty things for Julemessa—the nursery fundraising Christmas fair.’

‘But you,’ Lydia said, gesturing to the beautiful ring cake filled with fruit and cream that stood on the worktop, ‘can make wonderful cakes. Which I can’t. They go flat as a pancake—so I cheat and buy them at the baker’s.’

‘Just like I cheat and make Nils do the painting,’ Elisabet confided with a smile.

‘Would you like me to sketch the children for you?’ Lydia asked.

‘Very much,’ Elisabet said.

Lydia needed no second invitation. She took her pencils and sketchbook from her handbag, and began to draw.

Jake had followed Nils into the kitchen from the door at the other end of the room, and stood there in silence, watching Lydia as she sketched; she looked completely at home, chatting to Elisabet and stopping what she was doing every so often to help one of the children.

He could imagine her like that with children of her own, kind and patient and supportive, and the hollow in his stomach filled with bile. Yet another reason why he had no right to start any kind of relationship with Lydia: children were absolutely not on his agenda, not any more.

And how hard it was, to smile and be polite and pretend that everything was just fine. Still, he ought to be used to it, by now. He’d managed it before. He’d manage it tonight. He forced himself to walk casually over towards Lydia and glanced over her shoulder.

He’d thought her cloud pictures on the plane were good, but these were fabulous. With a few deft strokes of her pencil, she’d really captured both children: Kristin, concentrating on her butterfly, and Morten’s expression as it changed from effort to triumph as he realised he’d managed to draw a cat just the way she’d taught him.

‘You’re very talented.’

‘Thank you.’

Though Jake noticed that she kept a tight hold of her sketchbook as she removed the pages with the sketches of the children, then stuffed it back in her handbag without offering to let anyone look through it. So she was as unconfident about her talent as she was about her work as a lawyer? Someone must really have done a number on her, in the past.

Nils and Elisabet were both delighted with the sketches. Nils took the children up to bed and read them a story, while Elisabeth ushered them into the dining room and brought the first course in.

Dinner was fine: good food and good conversation, with Nils and Elisabet suggesting places in Oslo that Lydia really ought to see before she returned to England. The opera house, a night-time walk along the Akerselva river, the sculptures in Vigeland park and the Viking ships in the museum.

Lydia seemed to blossom in their company, opening up about her favourite places to sketch in London. And Jake realised just how pretty she was: her dark eyes sparkled, her face was animated, and the candlelight brought out the copper and gold lights in her hair.

He had to force himself to stop staring at her mouth.

And every so often he caught her eye and saw the colour bloom on her cheeks.

She worked for him, he reminded himself. And he wasn’t in a position to offer her anything more than a fling. He needed to get himself back under control.

And yet…he’d noticed that she was looking at him, too.

So he wasn’t alone in this crazy attraction. Maybe she was wondering the same thing as he was. What it would be like to touch her skin; how it would feel to kiss her.

At the end of the evening, he thanked Nils and Elisabet for their hospitality, but when he climbed into the taxi beside Lydia he fell silent.

It would be so easy to ask her…

But that would be taking unfair advantage of the situation. Plus, if he’d misread the signs, it would be way too awkward at work tomorrow. This deal was too important to jeopardise.

And for the life of him he couldn’t think of a neutral topic of conversation. All he could think of was how much he wanted to cradle that beautiful heart-shaped face in his hands and touch his mouth to hers, coax her into responding. A sweet, slow kiss that would deepen and deepen and end up with his body driving into hers.

He could hardly say that, could he?

‘Did I do something wrong?’ Lydia asked eventually.

‘Wrong?’ He didn’t follow.

‘You’re a bit, um, quiet.’ She dragged in a breath. ‘Look, if I made a faux pas tonight, I’d appreciate knowing what it was, so I don’t repeat it.’

‘No, you’re fine—it’s not you.’ It was definitely him. Not that he intended to tell her what was in his head. ‘I guess I’m a bit tired.’ He lifted one shoulder. ‘Every time my mother sees me, she nags me about working too hard.’

‘Maybe she has a point,’ Lydia said.

‘I’m fine.’ To his relief, the taxi arrived at the hotel. He paid the fare, then walked in to the hotel foyer with her. ‘I was planning to go for a swim tomorrow morning before breakfast in my room. We’re due in the office at eight, so I’ll call for you at quarter to.’

He didn’t quite catch her expression before she masked it, and after he’d seen her safely to her room and opened his own door, he was still thinking about it. Had it been relief that he didn’t expect her to spend every waking minute of the day with him?

Or had it been disappointment?

‘Get a grip,’ he told himself crossly, and headed for a cold shower. Hopefully the temperature would knock some sense back into his head.

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