The Boss's Virgin Page 4

  Hurriedly she made him coffee, got a few biscuits from the tin kept in the cupboard where the coffee-making equipment was stored, laid a tray, collected her pad and several pens, and went through to his office.

  That first session with Randal was tense and anxious; she was terrified of making a mistake. He was clearly in a temper; she sensed he would have gone into hyper-rage for any reason, however slight. So she concentrated hard, listening intently, her pen moving fast and fluently over the pad while he dictated several memos to staff, letters to clients.

  Miss Dalton arrived just as he finished. Pippa incredulously saw that the snow queen looked flustered, her skin flushed, apologising as she hurried into the room, still wearing her smart black raincoat.

  ‘I am so sorry, Mr Harding; I left early so that I would be here when you arrived, but there was some sort of hold-up on the buses; I had to wait for ages before I could get one.’

  He nodded impatiently. ‘Never mind, Miss Dalton. Pippa was here early and has taken dictation.’ He looked at Pippa. ‘Get those ready to sign as soon as possible, would you? Thank you.’

  Pippa retreated, still shaky, and felt Miss Dalton’s icy eyes on her all the way.

  Judy was just hanging up her coat. ‘Where have you been?’ she asked, and Pippa told her in a whisper. Judy whistled. ‘She won’t forgive you for that for a long time! The boss is her property; she’ll hate you for being here when she wasn’t.’

  She was absolutely right. Miss Dalton was on Pippa’s case all day, snapping at her, complaining about her work, criticising her for wearing eye make-up, not to mention vivid red varnish on her fingernails in the office.

  ‘You look like a tart! Mr Harding doesn’t like his employees to wear that much make-up! Don’t come to work like that again!’

  Pippa mumbled an apology; the other girls discreetly averted their heads.

  Later that morning Miss Dalton struck again accusing her of gossiping to Judy when she should be working.

  ‘I’ve finished the work Mr Harding asked me to do—shall I take the letters to him to sign?’

  ‘No,’ snapped Miss Dalton. ‘I’ll do it!’ She came over to Pippa’s desk, picked up the perfectly typed letters and went out with them.

  ‘Brrr…icy weather,’ Judy whispered. ‘I told you so. She hates you now. Take another step near Mr Harding and she’ll kill you.’

  ‘It isn’t fair. He asked me to take dictation, and I did—it wasn’t my fault she wasn’t here.’

  Miss Dalton came briskly back and loaded Pippa with more work, telling her to hurry up and finish it.

  All that day, Pippa couldn’t do anything right.

  It was huge relief when Miss Dalton finally departed, leaving Pippa to finish a new pile of work she had been given to do.

  ‘I’ll be here for hours—she wants all this done by the morning,’ Pippa moaned once the door had shut on the older woman.’

  ‘That will teach you,’ Judy teased before she left. ‘In future try not to be seen with the boss! Remember, you are a lowly slave and she is the queen!’

  It was another hour before Pippa finally got to the bottom of the pile and could switch off her machine and clear her desk. Everyone else had gone; the offices were empty and silent. As she got up to leave the door opened and to her dismay there was Randal Harding again.

  Glancing at him, she felt her heart flip over—he was intensely sexy, in his three-piece dark suit, a smooth-fitting waistcoat over his white shirt. He leaned against the doorframe, re-knotting his maroon silk tie.

  ‘Still here? You work long hours, very conscientious,’ he said with a faintly teasing smile. ‘Everyone else gone?’

  She nodded dumbly, unable to speak because he made her so self-conscious.

  ‘Come on, then; the cleaners will be here in a minute.’ He switched off the lights, plunging the room into darkness, and she hurried towards the door, stumbling into him and feeling something like an electric shock at the contact.

  ‘Have you got far to go? Where do you live?’ he asked.

  ‘West Hackham. Twenty minutes by bus,’ she whispered, keeping her eyes down. She was terrified in case Miss Dalton should still be somewhere around, or heard they had left together. Her life wouldn’t be worth living if that happened.

  ‘Same direction as me. I’ll give you a lift. My car’s parked just down here; come along.’

  She hung back, ‘No, really, it doesn’t matter.’

  He gave her a wry, amused look. ‘Don’t look so scared. I don’t bite and I won’t make a pass.’

  She flushed in horror. ‘No, I didn’t mean…didn’t think…’

  He took her elbow and propelled her onwards. ‘Do you live at home, or have you got your own place?’

  Why was he asking that? she wondered, still pink and uncertain. The other girls hadn’t said anything about him making passes. Indeed, they’d said he was happily married. Maybe her imagination was working overtime.

  They left the building and turned down into the underground car park. Pippa’s eyes widened as they halted beside a long, sleek black Jaguar saloon. She had never driven in a car like that before.

  He unlocked the car and put her into the front passenger seat. Pippa stroked the cream leather upholstery, gazed at the polished walnut dashboard, equipped with all sorts of gadgets, including a CD player. It must have cost the earth; he must be very wealthy.

  As he started the engine he asked her, ‘Where did you work before you joined us, and why did you leave?’

  She told him the name of her old firm. ‘They went into liquidation. We were all made redundant.’

  He gave her a sidelong smile of sympathy. ‘Tough luck—were you out of work long before you came to us?’

  ‘No, I only left them the week before I joined you.’

  ‘That must have been a relief; no joke being unemployed. I hope you’re going to be happy with us.’

  ‘I’m sure I will be,’ she said, suppressing all memory of Miss Dalton. ‘I already feel at home in the office.’

  He flashed her that warm, sideways smile that changed his face entirely. ‘Good. The work you did for me this morning was excellent. If you keep that standard up, we’ll feel we were lucky to get you.’

  Out of the corner of her eye she watched his long-fingered hands on the wheel, his dark jacket sleeves shooting back to show his immaculate white shirt cuffs. She couldn’t blame Miss Dalton for being crazy about him; it would be easy to get that way. His hard profile had a power and masculinity that would have made a strong impact even if he had not been very good-looking, and now that he was no longer in a temper she began to see a charm and warmth that had not been visible when they’d first met.

  She hoped he would be like this most of the time, not in that stormy, brooding state. Why had he come to work in that mood today? Had he had a row with his wife?

  He drew up outside her address and shot a look up at the shabby Victorian house, the woodwork cracked and peeling, the front door needing new paint. The garden was neglected and overgrown, full of uncut grass and rambling bushes.

  ‘Is this your family home?’ he asked slowly.

  ‘No, it’s let out by the room—I rent one room here.’

  He grimaced. ‘If I were you, I’d move. It looks as if cockroaches and rats live here, too.’

  ‘No cockroaches or rats, but there is the odd mouse,’ she admitted. ‘I don’t like to kill the one in my room; like me, it has to live somewhere! But this place is cheap, and the room is quite spacious. I’m used to it.’ And she couldn’t afford anywhere better.

  ‘Where do your family live?’

  She hesitated, hating to talk about her background, then defiantly told him, ‘I haven’t got one.’

  He shot her a sharp look. ‘No parents?’ He sounded incredulous, disbelieving.

  ‘No family at all.’

  His grey eyes searched her face; she looked away from their penetrating probe, feeling like someone under searchlights.

  �
��How long have you been alone?’

  ‘Always.’ She paused, hesitating about saying any more, then plunged on, ‘I was found as a baby. I’ve no idea who I really am or who my mother was.’

  There was a little silence, then he said gently, ‘I’m sorry. You can’t have had a very happy childhood. I’m lucky. I have a sister, although both my parents are dead now. And I’m married, of course, with a child. Having a family roots you in life.’

  ‘Yes,’ she muttered, because she, of all people, knew that. She dreamt of marrying one day, having children, having a family of her own at last.

  She didn’t want to talk to him any more; she hurriedly got out of the car, whispering, ‘Thanks for the lift, Mr Harding. Goodnight.’

  He sat watching her as she fled up the path and unlocked the front door. Pippa was aware of his gaze, but didn’t look back. She was a very down-to-earth person; she knew she must not let herself think about him too much. He was her boss; that was all. Just that, nothing else, ever.

  Yet whenever she forgot to keep a guard on her mind she thought about him that evening, sitting in her lonely room, listening to her second-hand radio. She couldn’t afford a television but radio was some sort of companion: another voice in her room, music, plays.

  She had never been in love, never thought much about other people. Now she couldn’t stop thinking about Randal Harding, remembering his vivid grey eyes, the charm of his smile, the grace and beauty of his male body.

  She was filled with curiosity about him. Was his home as beautiful as his car? Elegant, luxurious, comfortable? He wouldn’t be alone tonight, like her—he would have his wife and child for company. Did he know how lucky he was?

  That was the beginning. Over the weeks that followed she saw him most days, and each time he gave her that smile, sending her temperature sky-high. Occasionally she had to work for him, and tried hard to stay calm and collected, but it wasn’t easy when it made her heart race dangerously whenever he smiled or his hand brushed hers.

  One day he called her into his office while Miss Dalton was having coffee in a café across the street with some friends—a birthday celebration, Judy had told Pippa. Judy knew all the office gossip: what was going on and who was dating who.

  ‘They make these wonderful cakes,’ she’d said enviously. ‘Coffee-iced walnut cakes, chocolate eclairs that melt in your mouth. It’s the place to go, if you can afford it. I’ve been once and still dream about it.’

  ‘Sounds blissful,’ Pippa had agreed; she could never have afforded food like that. Her budget was far too restricted.

  Mr Harding had put his head round the door at that minute. ‘Come through,’ he told Pippa, who had got up, flushed and anxious, while Judy whistled under her breath.

  ‘Let’s hope Dalton doesn’t get back while you’re with him! Or your head will roll. Come to that, I’m suspicious, too—why does he always ask for you? Why never me?’

  Pippa hadn’t even tired to answer that; she couldn’t. Randal had taken some sort of interest in her from the beginning—was it because of what he had found out about her background? Was he sorry for her? She didn’t like that idea.

  When she went into the other room and found Randal Harding standing with his back to her, staring out of the window at the blue, cloudless sky, she began to breathe rapidly, shallowly. While she gazed at that long, supple back, those even longer legs, he turned his head to smile at her, making her heart roll over in a now familiar, disturbing fashion.

  ‘I want to ask a favour of you—this isn’t work, so feel free to refuse if you’re not happy about it—but I’m very busy today and I can’t spare the time to do it myself. My son is five tomorrow and I haven’t bought him a birthday present yet. Do you think you could go shopping and choose something for him?’

  Taken aback, since she hadn’t expected that request, she stammered, ‘Well, of course, but…I don’t know what toys he already has or what he likes…’

  ‘He hasn’t got any big vehicles—trucks, farm vehicles, fire engines, that sort of thing. He loves toy cars, so that would probably be the best bet.’

  ‘Right, then; okay, I’ll do my best. When did you want me to go?’

  ‘Take an extra hour for lunch.’ He pulled out a sheaf of bank notes from a wallet in his jacket, and counted some out into her hand. ‘That should be enough. And would you buy a birthday card, too?’

  His fingers brushed hers, making her legs turn weak, but she nodded, smiling, and hurriedly retreated.

  She managed to do her shopping in a world-famous toyshop. It only took a few minutes to choose and pay for a huge bright red fire engine with expanding ladders and tiny firemen in yellow helmets, coiled water hoses, all the equipment a boy would need to play firemen. In another shop she bought a card which she thought quite funny, with a big gold number five on it and a line of pink elephants dancing and playing the trumpet.

  She had lunch nearby, before returning to work at the usual time. Miss Dalton was at lunch when Pippa got back.

  ‘She was looking for you,’ Judy warned. ‘Asking why you had gone to lunch early and who gave you permission. I played dumb, said I didn’t know. Where have you been, anyway?’

  ‘Shopping,’ Pippa said, rushing into Randal Harding’s office and laying the package she had bought on his desk, then hurrying back before Miss Dalton caught her. The last thing she needed was trouble.

  ‘I worry about you,’ Judy said. ‘What’s going on between you and Randal?’

  ‘Nothing! Don’t be silly.’ Pippa buried herself in her work.

  She got into trouble when Miss Dalton returned ten minutes later and demanded to know why Pippa had gone to lunch early.

  ‘I had some urgent shopping to do,’ Pippa said, eyes lowered.

  ‘I don’t believe my ears! So you just went off to do it without a word!’

  Pippa thought of telling her Randal Harding had given her permission to go, but decided that might merely make matters worse, so said nothing.

  ‘How dare you walk out of here without permission? You will go to lunch at the time allotted to you in future.’ Miss Dalton’s voice was acid. ‘One more trick like that and you’re out of a job!’

  Pippa shivered. She needed this job; there was no guarantee she would get another. Without an income she would find life very hard. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.

  ‘You’ll be even more sorry if you keep annoying me like this!’ the older woman snapped.

  Judy rolled her eyes at Pippa behind Miss Dalton’s back and mouthed, ‘I told you so!’

  As the time to stop work came closer Miss Dalton came over to look at Pippa’s desk and gave her an icy, triumphant smile.

  ‘You’ve fallen behind again, I see. Your work is far from satisfactory. Well, I want all those letters finished when I come into work tomorrow—understood?’

  ‘Yes, Miss Dalton,’ Pippa wearily said; she seemed to spend her life running on the spot just to keep up. She had never had this trouble before.

  When everyone had gone she put her head down on the desk, tears welling up into her eyes. Day after day Miss Dalton attacked her, overloaded her with work, watched her like a hawk, and Pippa was exhausted by the strain of it. She had enjoyed her last job; everyone had been friendly, she had been able to keep up with her work. But now she didn’t know if she could keep on going; she might have to resign—was that what Miss Dalton wanted? Was she trying to drive her out?

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  The voice made her stiffen, instinctively wiping her wet eyes with the back of her hard before she sat up.

  ‘Nothing…sorry…just tired,’ she mumbled, avoiding Randal Harding’s eyes.

  He came over to her desk, put an imperative hand under her chin and tilted her face, stared down at it, his grey eyes moving from her wide, wet green eyes to the tremulous curve of her pink mouth.

  ‘You’ve been crying.’

  ‘Just tired,’ she stupidly repeated, staring up at him, conscious of a now familiar turmoil
in her body. Her heart was beating so hard it deafened her; she couldn’t breathe properly, couldn’t focus on his face, which loomed far too close to her own.

  ‘Nonsense, something else is wrong—tell me!’

  She shook her head, her mouth dry and her blood running like fire. Never in her life had she felt like this; it was terrifying. Was she falling in love with him? That would be folly, but she had no idea how to stop herself.

  His face seemed to be coming closer all the time. She gazed into those brilliant grey eyes, so dazed and confused she couldn’t think straight, then her stare dropped to focus on his hard, male mouth, and panic rushed through her.

  Was she imagining it, simply because she hungered for it so much, or was he about to kiss her? A second later his mouth touched hers and she shuddered, eyes closing.

  His kiss was light and cool for a second or two, then it took fire and his arms went round her, pulling her up from her chair, dragging her so close to him that she felt the pressure of his thighs, the warmth of his body under his elegant clothes, the fierce beating of his heart.

  Pippa had never been kissed, touched, like that before. She didn’t know what to do, how to feel. Eyes shut tight, plunged into deep, velvety blackness, she swayed helplessly in his arms, her lips parting to give him access to her mouth, entirely given up to him in unconscious surrender.

  Only when he lifted his mouth and broke the spell holding her did she begin to think again, and then shame and shock made her turn first red, then white.

  ‘No, you mustn’t! You’re married!’ she broke out.

  He looked down at her, his face a battleground of conflicting feelings, gave a long groan. ‘Yes. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you. I didn’t intend to kiss you. I just couldn’t help it.’ He ran a caressing hand down her face, trailed his fingers over her mouth, awakening all her pulses again.

  ‘Don’t,’ she whispered, dying to have him kiss her again.

  ‘God, if only you weren’t so young!’ he muttered. ‘Practically a child. I have no right to come anywhere near you; don’t think I’m not ashamed of myself. I just don’t seem able to stop thinking about you. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a very long time.’