in Florida, so I’ve got nowhere to stay.’
‘But that’s no reason to go rushing back to…’ He paused, clearly trying to remember where it was she had said she came from.
‘North of Watford,’ she reminded him.
‘Somewhere no one has ever heard of,’ he retaliated. Then, ‘She won’t be away for ever.’
She might as well be. ‘Until the end of the month.’
‘Exactly. Two weeks. You can stay in a hotel until then.’
Just like that? ‘I’m sure you mean well, Mr Fleming—’
‘Max,’ he reminded her.
‘Max,’ she repeated awkwardly. She’d never called anyone she worked for by their first name before. ‘I’ve been temping since November and in case you hadn’t noticed we’ve just had Christmas. I had to pay for my train fare down here on my credit card—’
‘In other words, don’t be such an idiot?’
‘I didn’t say that—’
‘You were thinking it, and you were right. But you’re not going anywhere, Jilly Prescott. You’re the first girl I’ve had in this office in the last two weeks who even comes close to Laura…’ he saw her frown ‘…my secretary. She’s away looking after her mother.’
‘Yes, Ms Garland told me.’
He regarded her closely. ‘There must be somewhere you can stay?’
Must there? ‘Any number of park benches,’ she offered. ‘And there’s Waterloo Bridge if I provide my own cardboard box—’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ he said angrily. The very thought of her sleeping rough sent a shiver up his spine. But there had to be some solution. He’d call Amanda; having found the perfect secretary for him, she would surely do anything to help him to keep her, if only to keep him off her back. ‘Sit down.’
‘What about this report?’
He didn’t answer, simply fixed her with his eyes and waited for her to obey him. She returned to the chair in front of his desk and sat down without another word. Only then did he reach for the telephone. ‘Amanda? I need another favour.’
‘Please tell me that you haven’t given that poor girl such a hard time that she’s left already? I did warn you—’
‘That “poor girl” needs none of your sympathy. What she needs is a roof over her head for the next two weeks.’
‘So?’
‘Can you find her somewhere?’
‘I run an employment agency, darling, not an accommodation bureau.’ He waited. ‘I don’t understand why you need my help,’ she added unhelpfully.
‘Who else would I ask?’
‘Darling, look around you. You’ve got enough room in that barn of a house for twenty secretaries. Put her in one of them. She’ll be handy when you get some brilliant idea in the middle of night.’
‘I can’t do that—’
‘Why not? Really, Max, if you’re worried that she’ll think you’re lusting after her luscious young body tell her that you’re gay.’
‘Mandy!’
‘No? Macho pride couldn’t stand it? Well, in that case you’ll just have to convince her that Harriet will make a perfectly adequate chaperon, won’t you?’ And with that she hung up.
CHAPTER THREE
MAX replaced the receiver and looked at the girl sitting opposite him. Amanda’s solution to the problem was so obvious that he should have thought of it himself. He just wished she hadn’t put ideas into his head. It reminded him of his mistaken belief that Jilly had been a kissogram, that she had the kind of figure that would have made a nineteen-forties pin-up envious.
Jilly was looking at him expectantly and he swallowed hard. ‘My sister always sees thing so clearly,’ he said. ‘The answer is obvious. You must stay here.’
‘Here!’ The blood rushed to Jilly’s cheeks. ‘In your house?’ she added, eyes wide. ‘But that’s—’
It hadn’t occurred to Max to take his sister seriously, but his offer appeared to confirm everything Jilly’s mother had ever warned her about London in general and men in particular and he rapidly revised his plan to install her in the guest suite. ‘There’s a self-contained flat above the garage block,’ he said quickly. ‘It’s not fancy, but it’s a lot better than a cardboard box under Waterloo Bridge.’
Jilly couldn’t believe it. How dared his sister call him a monster? Max Fleming was an absolute darling and she wanted to leap out of her chair and fling her arms around him and tell him that he was her knight in shining armour. His expression, however, and the stiffness with which he held himself, suggested that he would not welcome that kind of response.
‘Well?’ he said as she hesitated, dithering awkwardly in front of his desk. ‘What are you waiting for? I want that report on the Minister’s desk today.’
‘I’ll go and sort out that courier,’ she said. Then, at the door, she looked back. ‘Thank you, Max.’
He waved her away impatiently, head already bent over a column of figures.
The flat was small but, as promised, self-contained. There was a stone staircase leading up the side of the garage block to a door that opened into a tiny vestibule and then directly into the living room.
‘This is lovely,’ Jilly said when, at last, Max had cleared his in-tray and Harriet was able to take her across to show her around. Max Fleming was right, it wasn’t fancy, but it was comfortable and it had to be worth ten times anything she could afford. ‘Why is it empty?’
‘It was the chauffeur’s flat in the old days. Max’s father refused to learn to drive. Amanda and Laura wanted Max to take someone on after his accident but he wouldn’t, said he’d rather hire a car and driver when he needed one—not that he goes out much these days.’ Jilly would have liked to ask Harriet why, but she wasn’t given the chance as the woman went on, ‘I’ve brought across some basic necessities for you—tea, milk, that sort of thing—and the telephone is connected. Max said to tell you that phoning home is one of the perks of the job.’
‘Oh, that’s kind.’
Harriet gave her a sideways look and said, ‘I’m sure you’ll earn it. He works day and night and he’ll have you doing the same if you let him.’ She handed her a keyring. ‘Here’s the door key. The other key opens the side gate. Settle in and then come across to the house. Dinner is at eight.’ Dinner? The flash of panic must have been visible on her face, because Harriet smiled reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry. Max won’t expect you to dress up, just don’t wear jeans—the dining room chairs are antique and denim is murder on the fabric.’
‘Actually—’
