‘I’M NOT getting out of the car.’
Jenna folded her arms across her chest, belligerence thrumming from every pore, and Alex fought to keep a lid on his temper. Until today he hadn’t been aware that he even possessed a temper. Even when annoyed he was able to deal with issues in a calm, controlled manner, but where Jenna was concerned it seemed that any sense of control flew out of the window.
‘I’ll decide whether or not I need to see a doctor, and if I think it necessary I’ll make an appointment with my own GP, not yours. I can’t afford a private Harley Street practitioner.’
‘I’m not asking you to.’ Alex closed his eyes and briefly pictured newspaper headlines that screamed Top Barrister Commits Murder.
‘Anyway,’ Jenna continued stubbornly, ‘the only reason we’re here is so that you can appease your conscience. I told you I wasn’t a liar.’
‘Either you get out of the car or I’ll drag you out.’ Any vestige of control disappeared in a cloud of molten fury. Her husband must have the patience of a saint, Alex decided, ignoring the fact that her jibe had hit home.
There was no warmth in his eyes now, his face was a rigid mask of irritation, and Jenna realised that compliance was her only option if she was to retain any dignity. She didn’t doubt for a minute that he would carry out his threat to drag her bodily from the car, and so, with her head held high, she opened the door.
‘He’s probably busy anyway,’ she muttered as she was ushered into a plush reception area that bore scant resemblance to her own doctor’s drab surgery.
‘Hello, Alex. Go straight through. Guy is expecting you.’ If the receptionist was surprised to see Alex leading his companion along like a badly behaved puppy she was far too discreet to mention it, and Jenna pulled her hand free and stomped into the inner office.
‘Alex—good to see you. We must meet up for a game of golf; my club, Saturday?’
‘Actually, I’m flying to Cannes this weekend. But another time certainly.’
‘Hoping to prolong the summer, huh? And no doubt enjoy the company of some tanned blonde beauty. You need to settle down and get married, Alex.’
‘Why?’ Alex queried with a grin, and Guy laughed.
‘There must be a good reason, but it beats me.’
Jenna hovered in the doorway, feeling superfluous. This was not her world, and it was safe to say that she wouldn’t be playing golf or sunning herself in Cannes at the weekend. From the knowing glances that had passed between the two men it was obvious that Alex had a reputation—hardly surprising, considering his stunning looks, she reminded herself. But the thought left her feeling curiously flat.
‘And this must be the young lady with the shoulder injury.’ Guy Deverille welcomed her with a smile. ‘Alex explained about the incident on your way to work this morning. Let’s take a look, shall we?’
We! Jenna’s gaze flitted from the doctor to Alex. No way was she going to strip off in front of Alex for the second time that day, she vowed, and Alex’s lips twitched as he read her expression.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ he murmured, and as he headed for the door her fingers itched to wipe the mocking smile from his face.
‘I told you it was just bruised,’ she berated half an hour later, as the Bentley cruised through the London streets. After ensuring that she had suffered no broken bones, Guy Deverille had given her some strong painkillers and advised her to rest her shoulder as much as possible for the next couple of days.
‘So you did,’ Alex agreed equably, not looking up from his laptop, and she gave up and stared moodily out of the window.
Having been spared the train journey home, she was early. She would be able to collect Maisie from the nursery, rather than her neighbour, Nora, and her heart lifted at the thought of seeing her daughter. She hated having to leave Maisie all day, and the decision to return to full-time work had been a hard one—although the bank did not share her concerns, and had only increased her mortgage on the understanding that her salary would cover the repayments.
The chauffeur parked in her tree-lined suburban street and she turned to Alex, her heart suddenly sinking. This was goodbye to her job, and quite possibly her home if she didn’t find another position quickly. It was certainly goodbye to the most intriguing man she had ever met, for she doubted she would see Alex Morrell again. Somehow it seemed unlikely that they would ever move in the same social circles.
‘Take tomorrow off and rest your shoulder. I expect you to be in the office at nine o’clock on Wednesday morning.’ At her silence Alex spared her a brief, quizzical glance and she stared at him.
‘I thought you didn’t want me any more—to work for you, I mean,’ she added clumsily, her cheeks flaming.
‘Whatever gave you that idea?’ His sarcasm grated as Jenna ran a brief resumé of the day’s events in her head, and after studying her downcast face he finally took pity on her. ‘It wasn’t the best first day, I agree. The visit from the police was a particularly low point, but aside from various catastrophes your work was excellent, and I need a secretary. I’m sure it’s going to be a pleasure working with you, Mrs Deane.’
There would be no more flirting, Jenna realized. No element of the sexual tension that had burned between them although they had both denied its existence. Now that Alex believed she was married she was deemed out of bounds, and he had no interest in her other than for her secretarial skills.
She should have felt relieved, but as she walked up the path her front door was flung open and she threw herself into Chris’s arms and burst into tears.
‘So, how was your day?’ Chris had developed a strong accent since he had emigrated to New Zealand with their parents, four years before, and Jenna managed a watery smile as he added, ‘My guess is, not good.’
‘You have no idea.’ Jenna sniffed, scrubbing her eyes with a tissue and stepping back to survey her kid brother—who towered over her. ‘I know I sound like Mum, but you have grown!’
Chris grinned cheerfully. ‘Yeah, well, it’s two years since you visited New Zealand. I guess we’ve all changed—although you haven’t grown,’ he teased. ‘How’s that cute little niece of mine?’
‘Maisie has definitely grown,’ Jenna informed him. ‘She’s at the day nursery until half past five.’
‘And you’re now trying to hold down a full-time job?’ Chris’s smile faded. ‘Mum told me that your jerk of an ex-husband won his court case. I can’t believe he was awarded a percentage of the value of your house when you were only able to buy it in the first place using the money left to you by Auntie Vi.’
‘That money only paid the deposit,’ Jenna explained. ‘The mortgage was in both our names, and technically Lee was entitled to his share. I could sell up, but by the time I’ve paid legal costs and everything I’ll only be able to afford a small flat. I don’t want to uproot Maisie; she loves the garden and her rabbit, and Nora and Charlie next door are like grandparents to her—she’d miss them terribly.’
‘I know,’ Chris muttered, ‘but it still seems unfair on you. Lee’s never contributed to Maisie’s upbringing in any way, financially or emotionally, and because of him you’re forced to work for some demon of a boss who makes you cry.’
‘Alex Morrell isn’t that bad,’ Jenna lied. ‘Today was my first day and it was a bit fraught, that’s all. There was a lot to learn.’
The most important lesson being to keep her distance from Alex, she acknowledged silently. Chris had called him a demon, yet in all fairness she couldn’t say that he was an unpleasant boss. He was demanding, with high expectations of his staff, but in return he rewarded them well, and against all the odds he had given her a second chance. It was a chance she was not going to waste. She would prove to Alex Morrell that she was as conscientious and efficient as he could possibly want, and if the only way she could do that was to avoid making eye contact with him, then so be it.
‘The parents send their love.’ Chris interrupted her thoughts as she entered the living room, which was strewn with his rucksack and various other packages. ‘Along with masses of presents for Maisie. I’d better warn you that I’ve been instructed to try and persuade you to move out to New Zealand. Mum and Dad miss you.’ He shrugged awkwardly. ‘We all do.’
‘I miss all of you too,’ Jenna murmured thickly, thinking of her elderly parents, who had been looking forward to their retirement when tragedy had struck. Their eldest daughter, Faye, had emigrated to her husband’s homeland of New Zealand after her marriage, but had suffered a stroke whilst giving birth to her first baby. Believing that Jenna was settled at art college, Neil and Mary Harris had moved to Auckland to help Faye in her slow recovery programme.