to handle the very particular kind of attention it generates…’ Lacking the courage just then to even meet his eyes, Maya mumbled a barely audible goodnight, hurried inside her room and bolted the door firmly behind her—as hurriedly as if she’d just been chased up the corridor by a herd of wild buffalo…
CHAPTER TWO
AWAKE since dawn, Maya chose not to linger in bed. Instead she got up, took a brief hot shower, then quickly dressed. Leaving her bags momentarily in the silent corridor, where behind closed doors Jonathan and his guests were still sleeping off the excesses of the night before, she took the risk of slipping a note under her boss’s door. A note that clearly outlined the reasons why she couldn’t stay and act as his assistant for the rest of the weekend and concluded with telling him that as soon as they returned to the office he could expect her resignation. Then, with her heart nervously tripping, Maya carried her bags downstairs.
If truth be known she couldn’t wait to get away from this house—away from her licentious boss and the cloud of deceit that had brought her there—away from his shallow moneyed friends who, when she’d been trying to make conversation, had looked right through her but had not really ‘seen’ her at all. It gave her an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu, being around people like that. It was too reminiscent of her childhood and those interminable painful gatherings of her father’s, with his so-called ‘friends’—acquaintances who had petted Maya like a puppy when it suited them and told her to get lost when it hadn’t, because she was cramping their style when they were drinking, drug-taking or trying to seduce someone.
Right now all she wanted was to return to her own little place, to what was comforting and familiar. She would have said to what was safe too, but since Maya had almost never experienced such a condition she bit her lip on the thought and shelved it away in some clandestine corner of her mind, where she would endeavour to forget about it for a while.
‘So…I’m not the only early riser around here, I see.’
Intent on leafing through the Yellow Pages she’d found in the hallway for a cab number, Maya glanced round, startled at the appearance of the owner of that low, provocative male voice. Lord, have mercy!
Dressed from head to toe in enigmatic black, Blaise Walker resembled a dangerous secret fantasy come to blood-pounding, heart-racing life, with his dark gold hair swept sleekly back from his strong sculpted face and his sizzling bold glance that now, in the light of day, she saw was a magnetic Mediterranean blue. She couldn’t attest to breathing at all as she stared back at him, but for several dizzying seconds the same roaring exhilaration pounded through her bloodstream that she imagined a Formula One driver must experience when he’d successfully negotiated a treacherous bend at devastating speed…
‘Good morning. I’m always up early, I’m afraid…I’m not one of those people who can lie in bed ‘til late. Besides…’ sensing heat suffuse her, Maya defied any woman with a libido to say the word ‘bed’ in front of a gorgeous male specimen like Blaise Walker and not be consumed with heat’…just as soon as I can get a cab I’m making my way home.’
‘So you’ve decided not to stay?’
‘To be honest, I don’t think that would be a very good idea—and I think my boss would probably agree. I don’t doubt he can’t wait to be rid of me after last night.’
‘You mean because you didn’t play along with his drunken and rather crass attempt at seduction?’
Casually sliding a hand into one of his trouser pockets, Blaise moved with compelling masculine grace towards Maya. A tantalising smile played round his well-cut lips that might have been mockery, curiosity, or perhaps even sympathy—who knew? That aside, his blunt description brought back afresh the sickening fear that had shuddered through her when Jonathan had been leering down into her cleavage and pinning her up against the wall.
‘You call that seduction? It was horrible! Just horrible! He had no right to—’ Her face flaming with embarrassment and a silent deepening fury at her boss’s totally reprehensible and rough treatment of her, Maya raked a shaky hand through her newly washed hair. ‘He’ll be doubly embarrassed that you saw it happen. I expect he’ll also be furious that I rejected him. I’d rather not stay here and find out his reaction, to tell you the truth.’
Moving her still trembling fingers down the appropriate thin page of the phone book, she located a number, then glanced back at the six-feet-something of powerfully arresting, hard-muscled male standing less than a foot away from her. Every cell in her body seemed to be drowning in the most compelling, exquisitely painful awareness of him, and she didn’t feel a bit prepared to deal with the fact.
Feeling as if his sharp gaze saw every self-conscious move she made, she turned to lay the book back down on the polished chiffonier.
‘I’d better phone for a cab. Excuse me…’
‘Where do you need a lift to?’
‘The nearest station.’
‘To catch a train to where? London?’
‘Yes…Camden.’
‘Don’t bother phoning a cab. I’ll take you.’
‘But the nearest station is fifteen miles away! What about Jonathan?’
‘What about him?’
‘Don’t you and he have a meeting this morning?’
The blue eyes that reminded Maya of perfectly still twin oceans that could no doubt seethe and turn stormy along with the best of deceptively calm seas stared back at her, as if the agreed meeting was of very little account indeed. Knowing from Jonathan’s assistant Caroline what mercenary methods her boss regularly employed in order for his agency to represent the ‘hot’ names of the moment when up against the competition, Maya couldn’t help but wonder what her boss had done to pull off this particular coup. In the world of theatre Blaise Walker’s name was definitely hotter than hot. She knew that was true because she regularly scanned the Entertainment and Arts pages of the papers, to see what was on in the West End, and she had read the fulsome and glowing accolades his work commanded as well as seeing the ‘Sold Out’ notices on the billboards.
But now she worried that if Blaise Walker didn’t make his meeting with Jonathan because he had given her a lift to the station then Jonathan would no doubt hold her completely responsible. Retribution in some form or other would quickly follow…maybe even manifesting itself in his refusal to give her a reference for her next job with her employment agency. It would be highly unfair and irregular, in light of Maya’s unblemished employment record, but Jonathan was more than capable of it—and worse.
‘I’ll ring him later. I’m pretty sure our Mr Faraday won’t lift his head off the pillow until lunchtime at least…if even then,’ Blaise remarked nonchalantly, dropping his hands to his hips. ‘In any case, after what I witnessed last night, any inclination I may have had to let your boss do my PR has definitely disappeared. One hears things about people. As a rule I don’t believe in listening to gossip, but having seen for myself the way the man conducts himself I’ve come to realise that much of the talk about him is probably quite close to the truth. The meeting I do eventually have with him won’t be the one he was hoping for, I’m afraid. Now…are these all your bags?’
Staring uncomfortably down at her soft canvas holdall, and the small leather tote bag that housed amongst other things her make-up, book and reading glasses, Maya
