A Christmas Affair. Carole Mortimer
you so hard all these years,’ he said slowly. ‘You're obviously very much in need of a holiday; you seem to be suffering from a form of nervous exhaustion.’
‘Because I handed in my resignation?’ She smiled, her expression pitying. ‘You really don't know me very well at all, do you, Dominic?’ she added with sad stoicism.
‘Of course I know you, damn it,’ he rasped. ‘I've spent almost every waking moment with you for the last five years!’
More than a lot of married couples, in fact, and yet Cathy knew she was still far from knowing the real man that was Dominic. Oh, she knew the basic things, such as his liking for black coffee for breakfast, the way he always wore black shoes, the fact that he liked to read The Times no matter what part of the world they happened to be in at the time; she was very familiar with all of his likes and dislikes in food, knew that he hated the farce of situation comedies on the television, that opera actually put him to sleep no matter whom he happened to be spending the evening with; and she also knew that alcohol was something he rarely indulged in. On a day-to-day basis she probably knew as much, if not more, than the average wife who'd known her husband the same number of years. And yet Dominic's real emotions he kept very low-key, and his past life was a closed book.
Dominic knew about her in just as much detail, but he was also privileged with the information that she had a sister called Penny with a family in Devon; he also knew about her life before the two of them had met and she had come to work for him.
As for her emotions, he didn't want to know about them!
‘So you have,’ she accepted lightly. ‘Then you should know me well enough by now to realise that I haven't resigned lightly, without giving the whole thing serious thought.’
‘Of course I realise that,’ he grated tautly. ‘Which is why I think it would be a good idea if you took the next week off, after all—two weeks, if you would prefer,’ he amended hastily at her derisive expression. ‘Take the time to rest yourself, to rethink your decision.’
‘Two whole weeks, Dominic?’ Cathy taunted. ‘Are you sure you can spare them?’
‘It has to be better than having you leave for good,’ he rasped irritably.
Once again she smiled. ‘Two weeks wouldn't be long enough.’ She shook her head.
‘Then take three weeks, a month. Damn it, Cathy,’ he scowled. ‘Talk to me!’
Now he wanted to talk to her. Although she didn't delude herself into thinking he wanted to talk about anything other than persuading her into continuing to work for him.
‘My letter of resignation says it all, Dominic’ She shrugged dismissively, looking through the drawers in her desk to see if there was anything she had forgotten, before moving across the room to the window-ledge where she had slowly nurtured plants over the years into healthy adult plants; to leave them behind now would be like leaving part of herself behind. And she intended no part of her to remain here once she had physically left.
Dominic followed her, and although Cathy didn't acknowledge his presence next to her as she filled the box with the plants, she could feel his nervous energy.
‘You say you want to move on to something different,’ he quoted impatiently. ‘But why? You know you love this job!’
The statement had nothing to do with egotism; she had never made any secret of her enjoyment of the work she did for Dominic, which she had loved from the very first moment, and she would only be fooling herself if she didn't admit she was going to miss the constant excitement the work involved. But her ragged and bruised emotions knew best, realised when it was time to admit defeat in the face of indifference, and move on. Which was exactly what she intended doing.
Besides—and this was something Dominic would never understand—it had never been just a job to her; it had been the only sort of partnership she could ever have with him.
‘So I'll learn to love a new job,’ she told him with confident bravado, looking out of the window at the greying sky. ‘It looks full of snow,’ she murmured to herself.
‘You were born to be my personal assistant,’ Dominic said frustratedly in the face of her obviously wandering attention. ‘Maybe some shares in DomRey would give you more of an incentive to reconsider.’ His eyes were narrowed to emerald slits.
She laughed softly at the suggestion. ‘You don't need a partner, Dominic’
‘I wasn't offering partnership,’ he snapped. ‘Just the interest of a few shares in the company you work for.’
‘Thanks, but no, thanks,’ she refused without the slightest hesitation, glancing up at the sky again; if only it didn't look that awful white-grey colour that often preceded snow! ‘Just hold off another five or six hours,’ she requested of it pleadingly, turning with the box in her arms to knock Dominic full in the chest where he stood so close to her. ‘Sorry,’ she grimaced, stepping aside to make sure she missed him this time.
‘But those shares you've just turned down are worth over——’
‘I am a good PA, Dominic,’ she said without turning. ‘I know what they're worth.’
‘Then——’
‘I'm not interested, in them or in their worth,’ she stated firmly, glancing worriedly at her watch; the day was quickly moving on, and she still had a lot to do.
‘Am I keeping you?’ Dominic demanded irritably as he saw that glance.
Cathy looked up at him, answering him calmly, ‘As a matter of fact, yes.’
‘I'm so sor—good God!’ Sarcasm gave way to alarm as he once again followed her across the room. ‘Those mutterings about snow and hoping it will hold off for five or six hours don't mean that you're thinking of driving back down to Devon today, do they?’ He looked disbelieving.
Considering that she had driven down through the night two days ago, and then back again yesterday evening, Dominic could be forgiven for looking at her as if she must have taken leave of her senses. But she had had very good reasons for making both those unscheduled journeys, and if Dominic had ever shown the slightest interest in her personal life she might have been tempted to confide them to him.
As things had turned out she had more reason than ever for wanting to be back among her family for Christmas. She intended to be there with them all when Jade and David celebrated their engagement; those two, more than anyone else she knew, deserved happiness, and she was thrilled that they had found it together.
‘And if it does?’ she challenged.
‘Then I no longer just think I've been working you too hard, I know I have,’ he returned grimly. ‘You must know as well as I do that the long-term weather forecast is snow, snow, and more snow. You would have to be insane to go out into that again!’
She raised blonde brows. ‘I don't think I have to take that sort of talk from you now.’
Green eyes flashed. ‘I'm just offering you sound common sense.’
‘Dominic, you never offer advice,’ she mocked lightly.
He stiffened, very tall and handsome in the navy blue three-piece suit. ‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning that I intend going back to Devon today, no matter what the weather forecast, no matter what you have to say about it——’
‘No matter what anyone says, by your reckless attitude,’ he bit out tersely. ‘When did you get to be so damned stubborn?’
‘Oh, I've always been pretty determined,’ she dismissed casually. ‘You've just never taken the time to notice before now.’ As he hadn't noticed a lot of other things about her!
Like the very fact that she loved him madly, passionately—futilely.
There had never even been the faintest flicker of awareness on his part