The Duke's Boardroom Affair / Convenient Marriage, Inconvenient Husband. Yvonne Lindsay
was wrong with her? It was just a kiss. And barely even that. So why the weak knees? The frantically beating heart and breathless feeling? Why the tingling burn in her breasts and between her thighs?
Maybe that was just the effect he had on females, something chemical, or physiological. Maybe that was why he dated so many women. They genuinely couldn’t resist him.
That was probably it, she assured herself. Pheromones or hormones or something. And the effect was bound to wear off. Eventually she would even grow immune to it altogether.
She just hoped to God that he hadn’t noticed. That before she let go he hadn’t felt her hands shaking, that he hadn’t seen her pulse throbbing at the base of her throat or the heat burning her cheeks. That he hadn’t heard the waver in her voice before she turned and walked away. If he knew what he did to her, he could potentially make her life—the next few weeks, anyway—a living hell.
When she felt steady enough, she walked the two blocks to her flat. She unlocked the outer door and headed up the stairs to the third floor. The building was clean and well tended, but the flat itself was only a fraction the size of her suite at the family estate.
She stepped inside and tossed her keys and purse on the table by the door. It would be roomier once she emptied all of the boxes still sitting packed in every room. But her heart just wasn’t in it. It didn’t feel like home.
The light on her answering machine was flashing furiously. She checked the caller ID and saw that every one that day was from her father. He was probably eager to talk to her about the royal family, tell her more lies to cover his own mistakes.
Well, she wasn’t ready to talk to him. The sting of his betrayal was too fresh. She would end up saying something she would later regret.
She erased the messages without listening to them and turned off the ringer on her phone. At times like this she wished she had a best girlfriend to confide in. Even a casual friend. Only now, with her career in the toilet, was she beginning to realize what she’d missed out on when she made the decision to devote herself entirely to her career. For the first time in her life she truly felt alone. And when she thought of her father’s betrayal, the feeling intensified, sitting like a stone in her belly.
All those years of dedication and hard work, and what had it gotten her? Thanks to her father, she had lost nearly everything.
But was it fair to blame it all on him? Didn’t she shoulder at least a little bit of the blame? Had she allowed it to happen by not questioning his handling of the finances? By not checking the books for herself?
By trusting him?
But what reason had he given her not to?
She shook her head and rubbed at the ache starting in her temples. Self-pity would get her nowhere. She needed to get over it, pick up the pieces, and get on with her life. And the first thing on her agenda: finding Charles a new assistant and finding herself a new job. Despite their desire to keep her in their employment, she would never feel comfortable working for the royal family. She couldn’t shake the idea that their job offer had nothing to do with skill, that they had hired her out of pity.
She would never feel as though she truly fit in.
First thing in the morning she would place an ad for the assistant’s position and phone her contacts at the various employment agencies in the bay area. In no time she would have Phillip a new assistant. A capable assistant.
And until then, she would stay as far from Charles as humanly possible.
Seven
So much for keeping her distance from Charles.
As promised, he sent his car to fetch Victoria before work the next morning. When she heard the knock at her flat door, she just assumed it was the driver coming up to get her. But when she opened the door, Charles stood there.
He leaned casually against the doorjamb, looking attractive and fit in a charcoal pinstripe suit, a grin on his face. And not a trace of the ill ease he’d worn like a shroud the night before.
“Good morning,” he said, then added, “Victoria.”
Okay. “Good morning…Charles.”
“I thought you would be impressed. I remembered your name.”
He’d apparently taken what she said to heart. She was genuinely and pleasantly surprised. It didn’t last long, though.
“I’d say that I deserve a reward,” he said, with an exaggerated wiggle of his brows.
The man was a shameless flirt, and though she hated to admit it, his teasing and innuendo wasn’t nearly as offensive as it used to be.
And to be fair, he had remembered her name right from the start. Which meant nothing when she considered that she and her father were the topic of many a conversation prior to her employment with him. Of course he would remember her.
You’re rationalizing, Vic.
The best response was no response at all.
“I just need to grab my jacket,” she said. “Wait right here.”
She dashed off to her bedroom, grabbed her suit jacket, and slipped it on. She was gone less than a minute, but when she returned to the door, it was closed and he wasn’t there.
Had he gone back to the car?
“Nice view,” she heard him say, and turned to find him standing in her cluttered living room gazing out the window.
He was in her flat.
The fact that it was in total disarray notwithstanding, he was just so there. Such a distinct and overpowering presence in a room that until that very moment had always felt open and spacious. Now they might as well have been locked in a closet together for the lack of breathing room.
Just relax. This is not as bad as it seems. You’re completely overreacting.
She folded her arms across her chest, doing her best to sound more annoyed than nervous. “You don’t take direction well, do you?”
He turned to her and smiled, and she felt it like a sucker punch to her belly. The worst part was that she was pretty sure he knew exactly what that smile was doing to her. And he had intended exactly that.
You just had to kiss him, didn’t you?
He gestured out the window. “You have an ocean view.”
Barely. Only a few snippets of blue through the buildings across the road. Nothing like the view from his home. Although it was looking decidedly more pleasing with him standing there.
Ugh. She really had to stop these random, destructive thoughts.
“I don’t recall inviting you inside,” she said.
“Yeah, you might want to work on those manners.”
She shook her head. “God, you’re arrogant.”
He just grinned and gestured to the city street below. “How do you like living in the heart of the city?”
It was different. Her father’s estate, their estate, had been in a rural setting, but she’d spent the majority of her time working in the city. A home in the bay area seemed the logical choice. “It’s…convenient. Besides, I needed a change of pace. A place that didn’t remind me of everything I’ve lost.”
She cringed inwardly. Why had she told him that? It was too personal. Too private. She didn’t want him getting the idea that she liked him. She didn’t want to like him.
He nodded thoughtfully. “And how is that working out for you?”
Lousy, but he probably already figured that out.
“I’m ready to go.” She walked to the door, grabbing