a fait accompli. If he had any lingering concerns about feeling attracted to her, they were well buried.
Perhaps he had simply shut that attraction off? Not that she couldn’t do the same. The stress of this situation had blurred her ability to act decisively, that was all.
He went on, his voice deepening with each word. ‘I’m sure your organisational skills will be more than up to the task, and it’s only a few months when all’s said and done.’
‘Only a f-few months.’ He really wanted her to do this work herself. Had made his mind up and would refuse to accept anything else. As for her organisational skills, she choked back a bitter laugh. Lily organised her life to death, and it still wasn’t enough.
The inescapability hit her. The notebook slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor. Pages fanned out like a startled lizard’s ruffle. Her carefully controlled world fell on its ear at the same time.
With the addition of the month she had stupidly tossed in, it would be three months and three weeks. She couldn’t afford to be here anywhere near that long.
She would have to prevaricate. Would have to accept his ultimatum for now, and convince him later to take Deb in her place.
‘You don’t have any choice, you know.’ He retrieved her notebook and gently passed it to her.
The book was a symbol of her weakness, if he had but known it. Within its pages she attempted to maintain control of her life. Everything from shopping lists, to appointments, to work demands, to names of people she might need to call again.
‘I’ve quite made up my mind, you see. So put your wonderful Deborah in charge of your agency. Let her do whatever it is you usually do.’ His tone lowered to calm, focussed intent and he went on. ‘And you, Lily Kellaway, give yourself to me.’
CHAPTER TWO
ZACHARY Swift had given Lily fifteen minutes to organise her agency matters. Lily’s small electronic timer counted down the seconds even now. As a result, her phone conversation with Deborah was limited. It would help if she wasn’t so aware of Zachary, seated in his office with the door open, working through twin mountains of paperwork with a determined diligence. She even liked that about him—drat the apparently hard-working man!
‘I’ll look after everything, Lily. Don’t worry.’ Deb’s words barely registered.
It was difficult to notice anything but the man in her peripheral vision.
He glanced up as though sensing her gaze on him, and she felt heat warm her cheeks as she quickly looked away.
‘Thanks, Deb.’ Lily couldn’t afford not to take notice of this conversation. She jotted Deb’s agreement to take over until further notice into her diary. ‘You have the key to my office and the tapes…’
Where had Lily left the tapes? She couldn’t visualise them. ‘They should be beside the computer. If they’re not, I might have left them in the top drawer of the desk. Re-direct the phone to your place. I’ll call you tonight to catch up properly.’
The moment Lily ended the call, she scribbled self-help instructions on several sticky notes and slapped them into place above the phone, on the filing cabinet, over the dictation machine. She wished she could put up ‘Don’t be Aware of the Boss’ notices, too.
And she was wasting mental energy when her fifteen minutes were almost up! She needed to take stock. Put steps in place to ensure she could emulate the operation here and seem reasonably competent during the standard ‘unfamiliar territory’ phase. But surely once things settled down a bit Zachary would be ready to take Deborah in her place?
‘Do you have everything organised with your assistant, so you can focus solely on your work here from now on?’ He stood in his office doorway, shirt sleeves rolled up, tie loosened.
What if she couldn’t turn off the way she noticed him? What if this awareness of him didn’t go away? Just kept increasing and deepening, as it was even now? ‘Yes. It’s all organised, although it involved a certain amount of reshuffling.’
She wished he would comb his ruffled, unruly hair. And, while he was at it, don the jacket he had removed the moment she’d agreed to his demand.
‘I’m glad you’re organised, because you’ll need to be to do a good job here.’ His mouth lifted at the corners as though to soften the challenging statement.
Why did he have to attract her, anyway? He was so not her type. If she ever took another man into her life—which was highly doubtful—he would be gentle, perhaps scholarly or poetic.
A man who would dress in twill trousers and misshapen pullover sweaters, not power business-suits of darkest grey that emphasised every muscle and sinew.
‘I’ll do the very best for you that I can, Mr Swift.’ She deliberately avoided mentioning duration of time, and tried not to let anxiety get the better of her. She should be able to fool him long enough.
Her mentor at the institute might have said she should be open about her limitations, should tell people up front. But he didn’t know what it was like to see the change in their faces, to read the pity, and worse, in their eyes.
And she would get over this mild, unexpected reaction to Zachary Swift. She would! She flipped her diary open and put it in a prominent place where she would be sure to see it at frequent intervals. ‘I’ll go through all this clutter, sort it out, and get to work on the most urgent of it.’
‘Zach will do.’ His hands rested loosely at his sides. ‘And the clutter will have to wait a bit longer, I’m afraid.’
‘If not this muddle…’ She waved a hand. ‘What do you want me to tackle first, exactly?’
‘There’s a group of proposals on tape on the desk somewhere that should have been done Friday.’ He lifted a pile of papers as though to search for the tape, seemed to think better of it, and replaced them. ‘Standard beginning for each one, but individualised for the last couple of pages. And a meeting scheduled for 12.30 today in the conference room for ten people, plus us.’
‘No problem.’ Just a heap of overdue proposals and a lunch meeting to prepare for all in the space of, oh, what—an hour and a half? Panic snapped at her heels, scrambled up her ankles and sank its claws into her calves. She swallowed hard, and forced a calm tone she didn’t feel. ‘I’ll attend to typing the proposals. What’s required for the meeting?’
‘I’ll want a copy of the proposals for each guest, plus one of each for myself. You’ll also organise the meal, and take notes of anything pertinent said while we meet. Is that all clear?’ He glanced up in time to catch her scribbling furiously into her notebook, and his face softened a little. ‘You’re certainly diligent, taking notes of everything…’
‘It’s the way I work.’ She tipped her chin up and hoped he wouldn’t question her about it. ‘I’ll get started straight away. If that’s all for the moment?’
As soon as Lily said the words, she wanted to hyperventilate because she’d gone blank. She couldn’t remember any of his instructions. Not a one. They’d fallen into one of those holes inside her head, and disappeared. If her notes didn’t make sense once he turned his back, she was toast.
‘That’s
