a complete stranger without asking some pretty pertinent questions.
‘I’m here to see Mr Jarad Montgomery.’ She smiled at the smart receptionist. ‘Merren Shepherd,’ she gave her name.
She was expected! Merren rode up in the lift with her insides all of a churn. She did so hope she wasn’t here on a fool’s errand. He’d meant it, hadn’t he? She just wouldn’t be able to go home again, wouldn’t be able to face Robert if he hadn’t.
She tapped on the door she had been directed to. She’d expected his PA to invite her in. But the door was opened by Jarad Montgomery himself. Though for a moment he did not invite her in, but just stood there looking at her. But, while his glance went over her blonde-streaked reddish hair—tidy today in comparison to yesterday, for all she still wore it loose—Merren took a moment to study him.
He was as tall as she remembered. But in his immaculate business suit, crisp shirt and tie, he looked even more authoritative today than he had yesterday—and that was saying something.
‘You’ve polished up well,’ he drawled, and suddenly her nerves were disappearing.
You’re looking pretty snappy yourself. ‘I made an effort,’ she countered, hoping he would think she was joking.
‘Come in.’
Merren entered his office, noticed the communicating door to his PA’s office was closed, and was glad about that. By the look of it he was treating this as a private matter.
‘How are you feeling?’ he enquired, indicating a chair before going and taking a seat behind his desk. ‘You were pretty shaken up yesterday,’ he recalled.
‘The bruises will soon fade,’ she smiled. And, not wanting to prolong this interview any longer than she had to, she went on, ‘I’m sorry I had to reverse the charges last night when I rang. I didn’t have any change with me.’
‘You didn’t want to ring from your home?’
Sharp! Merren quickly realised they didn’t come very much sharper than him. ‘I—er—didn’t—don’t want my family to know that I was mugged.’
‘Or that you were robbed of that two thousand pounds you were carrying?’ She didn’t answer. ‘Where did you get it?’ he wanted to know.
‘I came by it honestly,’ she bristled—but, recognising that perhaps he had some right to know, she added more evenly, ‘I sold an item of jewellery.’
‘It was yours to sell?’ he asked quickly.
She resented his question, and resented his tone. ‘I…’ she began sharply back, and then realised she couldn’t afford to fire up at him. She needed his help. And, she supposed reluctantly, his question, since he didn’t know the first thing about her, was a fair one. ‘It was a ring belonging to my mother.’
‘Your mother’s in need of two thousand pounds?’
‘My mother died ten months ago,’ she replied stonily.
‘So the money’s for you. What for?’ He pursued his line of questioning, and, as if he’d summed up why she hadn’t wanted her family to know, his look was suddenly fierce. ‘You’re pregnant!’ he rapped.
‘No, I’m not!’ she snapped back. Honestly! ‘Chance would be a fine thing!’ His hint about what she wanted the money for infuriated her!
‘You haven’t…?’
‘I don’t.’
‘Not ever?’ he questioned, his anger gone, polite interest taking its place.
‘I’m working on it!’ she retorted crisply. Was she really having this discussion? ‘I told you—I needed that money to pay some bills.’ She brought the subject back to where she wanted it. She took a steadying breath, her pride buckling as she made herself ask, ‘Do you have the m-money for me?’
His answer was to open a desk drawer and withdraw a plain envelope. He stretched over and placed the envelope on the corner of his desk nearest to her. ‘Cash,’ he stated, seeming to know she wasn’t interested in a cheque.
‘Thank you,’ she said, not touching the envelope. ‘Do you want me to sign something to say I’ve received it?’
‘Not necessary,’ he replied.
‘Oh,’ she murmured. ‘Er—about paying it back.’
Jarad Montgomery stared at her, seemed about to say something, but instead invited, ‘Go on.’
‘Well—I—that is, I think you’ve already worked out, as I did last night, that it—um—may be some while before I’ll be in a position to repay you.’
‘I appreciate your honesty,’ he drawled. ‘Though I can’t quite remember asking you for repayment.’
‘You can’t be lending—giving—me the money out of the goodness of your heart!’ she erupted.
‘You’re suggesting I have a black heart?’ he enquired coolly.
She wasn’t. How could she think that when he was doing this enormous deed for her? But, ‘You must want something in return?’ she said in a rush as the thought came. She knew she was green, but nobody parted with that sort of money for nothing.
Jarad stared at her for long, silent moments. Silkily then, he murmured, ‘You’re prepared to sell your—um—services?’
She had the most awful pride-denting feeling that he was playing with her, and—even while ready to accept his enormous favour—Merren felt she hated him. ‘I’m a very good secretary,’ she informed him bluntly.
‘You have a job?’ He seemed surprised.
‘I rang my employer this morning and asked for the day off, out of my holiday entitlement,’ she answered stiffly. ‘I could work evenings and weekends if you’ve any secretarial…’
‘I’ve a perfectly efficient PA.’ He turned down her offer.
And Merren was out of ideas. ‘You’ve a perfectly efficient domestic staff too,’ she thought out loud, remembering his well cared for, polished and gleaming house.
‘You’d do cleaning?’ He stared at her as if she was some new kind of species as yet unknown to him.
‘I’m prepared to do anything legal.’
‘I see,’ he murmured, and, every bit as if it needed some thinking about, he continued, ‘You’d better come and see me tomorrow—I’ll let you know my requirements then. Er—don’t bring an apron.’ Merren was off her chair making for the door when his voice stopped her. ‘Haven’t you forgotten something?’ She spun round, and inwardly groaned—she had forgotten to pick up the money.
It was him! Somehow he had the power to unsettle her, making her swing from an urgent desire to hit him, to wanting to smile and be grateful. She went back to the desk and picked up the envelope. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly, with what dignity she could find.
‘Stay
