woman, and that sudden, unbidden reaction threw him off balance.
Seeing she was looking at him, and hoping his tension didn’t show, he asked unnecessarily, ‘I take it you enjoyed the meal?’
‘It was absolutely delicious. I can quite see why you like to stop here—’
All at once she broke off, flustered, wondering if he’d thought her greedy.
She was trying to find some way to change what had become an uncomfortable subject when the landlord appeared to clear away the dishes and bring the coffee, sparing her the need.
‘A grand meal, Amos,’ Michael said heartily.
He sounded sincere, and, realizing that he too had enjoyed it, Jenny relaxed. Perhaps, because of what she saw as the newness and possible fragility of the relationship, she was simply being over-sensitive.
‘I haven’t tasted anything as good as that since I was here last.’
‘I’ll tell Sarah,’ the landlord promised. ‘She’ll be pleased.’
For a little while they sipped their coffee without speaking, and, a quick glance at her silent companion confirming that he was once again in a brown study, she seized the opportunity to watch him.
His dark hair was thick and glossy, still trying to curl a little in spite of its short cut, and, though he lacked either charm or charisma, his face was interesting, lean and strong-boned, with a straight nose and a cleft chin.
It was the kind of face that wouldn’t change or grow soft and flabby with age. At sixty or seventy he would look pretty much as he looked now.
His eyes were handsome, she conceded, long and heavy-lidded, tilted up a little at the outer edge, with thick curly lashes. His teeth too were excellent, gleaming white and healthy, while his mouth had a masculine beauty that made her feel strange inside.
Dragging her gaze away with something of an effort, she studied his ears, which were smallish and set neatly against his well-shaped head. A far cry from the large, sticky-out ears Laura had predicted.
Jenny was smiling at the remembered picture when he glanced up unexpectedly.
As he watched the hot colour rise in her cheeks, pointing to her guilt, she saw his eyes narrow.
He obviously thought she had been laughing at him, and, knowing how fragile a man’s ego could be, she braced herself for an angry outburst.
But, his face showing only mild interest, he suggested blandly, ‘Perhaps you’d allow me to share the joke?’
Seeing nothing else for it, she drew a deep breath and admitted, ‘I was smiling at the mental picture my flatmate had painted of what you, as a successful author, ought to look like.’
‘Oh? So what should a successful author look like?’
She repeated as near as she could remember word for word what had been said that morning.
His face straight, but his green eyes alight with amusement, he said quizzically, ‘Hmm… Large, pointed, sticky-out ears… So how do I compare? Favourably, I hope?’
She smiled, and, relieved that he’d taken it so well, dared to joke. ‘Not altogether. After seeing some old reruns of Star Trek, I’ve developed a passion for Mr Spock.’
Her lovely, luminous smile, the hint of mischief, beguiling and fascinating, hit him right over the heart, and for a moment that vital organ seemed to miss a beat.
Striving to hide the effect her teasing had had on him, he pulled himself together, and complained, ‘Being compared to Mr Spock and found wanting could seriously damage my ego.’
‘Sorry,’ she said, with mock contrition. ‘I wouldn’t want to do that.’
‘So you weren’t suggesting that my ears aren’t as exciting as a Vulcan’s?’
‘I wouldn’t dare.’
‘I should hope not.’
His sudden white smile took her breath away and totally overturned her earlier assessment that he lacked either charm or charisma. Obviously he had lashings of both, hidden beneath that cool veneer.
All at once, for no reason at all, her heart lifted, and she found herself looking forward to the days and weeks ahead.
CHAPTER THREE
WATCHING her big brown eyes sparkle, Michael thought afresh how lovely she was.
He had been in Jenny’s company now for several hours, and ought to be getting used to her beauty, almost taking it for granted.
But he wasn’t.
In fact, just the opposite.
The fascination the first sight of her had aroused was still there, and growing stronger.
Which was bad news.
The last thing he wanted or needed was to be attracted to his new PA. That would be the ultimate irony, as Paul would be quick to point out.
That morning, when Paul had phoned to find out the result of the interview and Michael had admitted that Jennifer Mansell was on a month’s trial, Paul had been quietly jubilant.
‘I’m sure that in spite of all your doubts she’ll prove to be just what you need.’
‘We’ll see,’ Michael said cautiously. ‘It depends on what kind of woman she turns out to be, and how I get on working with someone else.’
Paul grunted. ‘Well, of course I can’t answer for the latter, but, so far as Miss Mansell’s concerned, I’ve heard nothing but good about her.
‘Though I’ll keep my ear to the ground, just in case, and if I do hear anything further I’ll let you know. In the meantime stop being such a misogynist and give the poor girl a chance.
‘She’s known to be good at her job, and, as I said before, I don’t think she’s the kind to throw herself at you. If by any chance she does, for heaven’s sake take her to bed. It might be just what you need to turn you back into a human being.’
‘Thanks for the advice,’ Michael said dryly, ‘but I’ve had my fill of women.’
Now he found himself wondering how he would react if Jenny Mansell did throw herself at him.
So far she’d given not the slightest sign of wanting to do any such thing. Rather, she had trodden warily, as though negotiating a minefield, looking anything but comfortable whenever the conversation showed signs of straying into the more personal…
Becoming aware that time was passing, he swallowed the remains of his coffee and remarked, ‘If you’re ready, we really ought to be on our way.’
Jenny, who had been sitting quietly watching his face, wondering what he was thinking, said, ‘Yes, I’m quite ready.’
‘There would be no hurry
