Memo: Marry Me?. Jennie Adams

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      Memo: Marry Me?

      Jennie Adams

      

      

www.millsandboon.co.uk

      For Cheryl, whose courage, humor and strength

       inspire me constantly, and inspired the idea for Lily’s story. Thanks for the working lunches, the laughs and the Internet jokes. You’re a champion.

      For Mary Hawkins. The mountains are inevitable.

       Thanks for climbing a little of this one with me.

      And for my editor, Joanne Carr. Thanks so much.

      CONTENTS

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      CHAPTER TEN

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      CHAPTER TWELVE

      CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      EPILOGUE

      COMING NEXT MONTH

      CHAPTER ONE

      ‘A RE you Zachary Swift?’ Lily stood in the doorway of the spacious eighteenth-floor Sydney office, and pushed words up through a throat filled with fear. She hoped she sounded calm and rational, and not worried sick. ‘I’m Lily Kellaway, owner and manager of Best Secretarial Agency. I’m here in response to your…concerns about my employee.’

      He could refuse to speak to her. Could have her and her agency blackballed, and end her career just like that. Lily knew it, feared it, but if she wanted any chance to make this situation right she had to sound confident, a woman who could and would make things better.

      ‘I’m Zach Swift, yes, and it’s no idle accusation against Rochelle Farrer.’ He sat at his desk, broad shoulders pressed into a black leather chair, confidence and assurance written in every line of his body.

      Sydney’s leaden April sky loomed behind him, viewed through a bank of plate-glass windows. Through a long, slim grill above those windows, the sounds of a city that never stopped emphasised his decisive words—vehicles possessing the roads below, the blast and clang of construction, a siren’s blare.

      Firm, determined sounds, when Lily only wanted to hear his deep voice softening, inviting her in to discuss this problem face to face.

      ‘I don’t dispute your accusation.’ She wished she could disprove it, but, sadly, it was all true. ‘But it’s one that can be addressed. Amends can be made. The situation can be fixed.’

      ‘Is that why you’re here? To try to fix what happened? There’s no turning back the clock.’ Dark brows drew down. His lean, tanned face revealed his irritation. ‘I think I made my feelings quite clear when we spoke by phone half an hour ago.’

      She recalled the shock of that phone call very well. Dismay and embarrassment had robbed her of the ability to reason with him. While she’d still been floundering, he had told her he wanted nothing more to do with her agency, and had hung up.

      ‘You raised certain issues when you phoned.’ The empty secretary’s desk in the reception room at her back mocked her. Her fingers clenched around the notebook held in her left hand, and she prayed that he would listen. ‘I’d like the chance to address those issues, now that I’ve had time to assimilate what’s happened.’

      Please, God, she wouldn’t forget the speech rehearsed three times on the frantic taxi trip here.

      ‘What’s to address? I sacked your employee. I’ve sacked your agency. End of story.’ With an irritated growl, he rose and stalked across the thick beige carpet until he stood before her.

      Over six feet of annoyed, affronted male, and her agency was responsible for his anger. She quaked. But something else happened, too. Something quick and unexpected when her gaze zeroed in on thick-fringed hazel eyes. A mixture of curiosity and interest flowed through her, locked her breath in her throat. Shock and dismay followed. She couldn’t be attracted to him? It must be some sort of nervous reaction, surely?

      Yes, that must be it, and just as well, because all other facts aside she was too busy for a relationship with a man right now. Busy. Inadequate. Just look at your relationship with your parents, a silent voice interjected. ‘All I ask is a few minutes of your time. If you’ll hear me out, those minutes will be well invested.’

      ‘Will they, Ms Kellaway? You seem very sure of that.’

      Lily adjusted the weight of the tote bag slung over her shoulder, tugged her green skirt into place and smoothed the matching blazer. ‘I have a solution.’

      ‘Do you? For the past week I’ve been sexually stalked while your employee ignored her duties.’ His narrowed eyes revealed his distaste. ‘My working life has been thoroughly wrecked, culminating in this morning’s episode. Your agency is responsible for that, and you want to solve my problem?’

      Lily drew a sharp breath. Something mellow and male drifted across her senses. Cedar wood and citrus, heated by warm man. ‘I do apologise…’ The words trailed off as her attention seemed to shift of its own volition to the black leather sofa in the corner.

      He followed her gaze, and his lips thinned. ‘Were you aware I would walk in on that particular sight today? Perhaps your agency condones such behaviour in its temp secretaries?’

      ‘I was certainly not aware that Rochelle had behaved in such a way, or that she might do so.’ Lily had no doubt that this indelible piece of conversation would stick like a barnacle to the inside of her head. ‘If I’d known, I never would have employed her. Until now, I’ve not had a whiff of trouble from any of my employees.’

      ‘Then how did it happen, Ms Kellaway?’ He strode away, clasped the edges of the desk in long-fingered hands. An intense and focussed scrutiny demanded her answer. ‘How was it that I walked into my office this morning to find Rochelle Farrer waiting naked for me on my sofa?’

      Lily’s hand shook as she snared a few errant strands of hair and pushed them back off her face. Rochelle had believed if she’d stripped off and waited this man would leap at the chance to have her, and afterwards to keep her. She hadn’t hesitated to say so, when Lily had confronted her by phone as she’d rushed here to try to put things to rights. ‘Rochelle…appeared to be under the misapprehension that she could, uh—’

      ‘Marry a rich husband and live off his wealth for the rest of her life?’ He inserted the words with freezing helpfulness. ‘And she only needed to

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