Fortune's Secret Heir. Allison Leigh

Fortune's Secret Heir - Allison Leigh


Скачать книгу
she carried the food back to the desk and ate while she began methodically searching the whereabouts of the women listed in Ben’s notes.

      She was able to cross off the first two almost immediately. One had died childless in an automobile accident only a few months after the conference where she and Gerald had met. The other was now a United States senator with an eye toward the presidency, and Ella figured if there were any other children besides the high school–age twins she shared with her husband, the media would have ferreted them out long before now.

      She made her notes next to their names and moved on to the third prospect. “You do get around, don’t you,” she commented and looked up to focus again on the computer monitor.

      Ben was standing in the doorway, wearing an immaculate pinstriped suit and gray tie, and for the second time, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

      “Who gets around?”

      Over the course of the morning, she’d gotten comfortable sitting in his chair, but now she felt nothing but awkwardness and she hopped to her feet. “Sorry about the mess,” she muttered, quickly gathering the empty dishes that Mrs. Stone had yet to retrieve, and swiping croissant crumbs off the glorious desk onto the plate.

      “What mess?” He rounded the desk from the other side and angled his dark head, studying her handwritten notes. Aside from Gerald’s time lines, which had numerous additions and comments jotted here and there, her notes were fairly neat. But nothing like his typed stack.

      Rather than standing there, inhaling the intoxicating scent of him, she carried the dishes over to the table. She wondered if his thick, dark hair ever got mussed out of the severe way he combed it back from his face.

      “Looks like you’ve been busy,” he said. “Mrs. Stone taking care of you?”

      She hovered near the table. “Yes. Lunch was unnecessary, but delicious. Thank you.”

      “Thank her. She fixed it.” He glanced at the computer monitor, then back at her again. “You’ve found everything you needed?”

      She nodded quickly. “I’ve already eliminated two women from your list. If it continues this quickly, you’re definitely overpaying me for the job.”

      He picked up her spiral notebook and read what she’d written. “It won’t always go that quickly. Nothing involving my father ever does. Where’d the notebook come from?”

      “What?”

      He lifted the notebook slightly before tossing it on the desk.

      “Oh.” She gestured at her messenger bag sitting on the floor against the wall behind his desk. “I had it with me.”

      “Reminds me of my school days,” he murmured. He walked over to her and reached out his arm, but only to open one of the built-in cabinets near where she stood. “Plenty of supplies for you to use,” he said, and moved away again. “No need to use up your own stuff for school.”

      “It was just a few pages,” she pointed out. But she pulled out a legal pad from the well-stocked shelf behind the cabinet door and closed it again.

      “School’s not in session for you right now.”

      “Classes start up again in about a week and a half.” She set the legal pad on the desk, but then didn’t really know what to do. It was his office. Taking the seat behind his desk while he was there seemed too strange. Instead, she ended up just hovering there beside the desk, folding and unfolding her arms. “I, um, I only have one class right now that’ll be on campus. Intro to Taxation. The last class I took was online only.”

      “Handy.”

      “Depends. Sometimes things are easier in a classroom. But—” she shrugged and unfolded her arms yet again “—it’s what’s been working.” It was also hard knowing where to focus her attention. If she looked at him, she was very much afraid she might stare. Or drool. The man was that handsome. But it was also awkward not looking at him.

      God help her. You’d think she’d never been around a guy before. She wasn’t a virgin, for heaven’s sake. She’d had a few boyfriends. Nobody serious enough to stick around through her busy schedule and the demands of her family. But still...

      “Well, looks like you’re doing fine. I’ll leave you to it.”

      “Mister!” Mrs. Stone appeared, unable to hide her surprise. “I didn’t know you were here. I’ll prepare you lunch immediately.”

      “No. I had a few spare minutes but I’m heading back to the office. Make sure Ella leaves in a few hours.” His eyes slid over Ella’s face, a sudden glint of amusement in them. “I’m not paying her overtime.”

      With that, he departed as unexpectedly as he’d appeared.

      “He never comes home during the workday.” Mrs. Stone glared at Ella as if she was to blame. “I would have had a proper lunch for him prepared.”

      “I don’t think he expected lunch,” Ella offered. “It was all delicious, though. Thank you.”

      Mrs. Stone didn’t look soothed. As rocky faced as always, she loaded up her tray with Ella’s lunch dishes and strode out of the room. Ella was fairly certain she’d have slammed the door if the doorway had possessed one.

      Fortunately, it wasn’t Mrs. Stone’s opinion about Ella that mattered.

      And Ben had said she was doing fine.

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

/9j/4QAYRXhpZgAASUkqAAgAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP/sABFEdWNreQABAAQAAABQAAD/4QO6aHR0cDov L25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wLwA8P3hwYWNrZXQgYmVnaW49Iu+7vyIgaWQ9Ilc1TTBNcENl aGlIenJlU3pOVGN6a2M5ZCI/PiA8eDp4bXBtZXRhIHhtbG5zOng9ImFkb2JlOm5zOm1ldGEvIiB4 OnhtcHRrPSJBZG9iZSBYTVAgQ29yZSA1LjAtYzA2MSA2NC4xNDA5NDksIDIwMTAvMTIvMDctMTA6 NTc6MDEgICAgICAgICI+IDxyZGY6UkRGIHhtbG5zOnJkZj0iaHR0cDovL3d3dy53My5vcmcvMTk5 OS8wMi8yMi1yZGYtc3ludGF4LW5zIyI+IDxyZGY6RGVzY3JpcHRpb24gcmRmOmFib3V0PSIiIHht bG5zOnhtcFJpZ2h0cz0iaHR0cDovL25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wL3JpZ2h0cy8iIHhtbG5z OnhtcE1NPSJodHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUuY29tL3hhcC8xLjAvbW0vIiB4bWxuczpzdFJlZj0iaHR0 cDovL25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wL3NUeXBlL1Jlc291cmNlUmVmIyIgeG1sbnM6eG1wPSJo dHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUuY29tL3hhcC8xLjAvIiB4bXBSaWdodHM6TWFya2VkPSJGYWxzZSIgeG1w TU06T3JpZ2luYWxEb2N1bWVudElEPSJ1dWlkOkFCMTIwRTFFRDA4MUU1MTE4MkU3OTczMDJEMjkx MDA2IiB4bXBNTTpEb2N1bWVudElEPSJ4bXAuZGlkOkUxMTQwOUE5RkE4NjExRTU4QTRFRTFGQkVE M0YxOThEIiB4bXBNTTpJbnN0YW5jZUlEPSJ4bXAuaWlkOkUxMTQwOUE4RkE4NjExRTU4QTRFRTFG QkVEM0YxOThEIiB4bXA6Q3JlYXRvclRvb2w9IkFkb2JlIFBob3Rvc2hvcCBDUzUuMSBNYWNpbnRv c2giPiA8eG1wTU06RGVyaXZlZEZyb20gc3RSZWY6aW5zdGFuY2VJRD0ieG1wLmlpZDpFQjQ3REZD NzExMjA2ODExOTJCMEIxMDBGQjUyODU3RCIgc3RSZWY6ZG9jdW1lbnRJRD0idXVpZDpBQjEyMEUx RUQwODFFNTExODJFNzk3MzAyRDI5MTAwNiIvPiA8L3JkZjpEZXNjcmlwdGlvbj4gPC9yZGY6UkRG PiA8L3g6eG1wbWV0YT4gPD94cGFja2V0IGVuZD0iciI/Pv/iDFhJQ0NfUFJPRklMRQABAQAADEhM aW5vAhAAAG1udHJSR0IgWFlaIAfOAAIACQAGADEAAGFjc3BNU0ZUAAAAAElFQyBzUkdCAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAD21gABAAAAANMtSFAgIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEWNwcnQAAAFQAAAAM2Rlc2MAAAGEAAAAbHd0cHQAAAHwAAAAFGJrcHQAAAIE AAAAFHJYWVoAAAIYAAAAFGdYWVoAAAIsAAAAFGJYWVoAAAJAAAAAFGRtbmQAAAJUAAAAcGRtZGQA AALEAAAAiHZ1ZWQAAANMA
Скачать книгу