didn’t smile back. How dared he? How bloody well dared he make casual sexual insinuations when she was in fear of losing her job as well as her boss? But then she guessed that not many people would dare stand up to this man without fearing the consequences. Well, perhaps he’d met his match in her. Because, as much as she needed this job—and God only knew how much—she wasn’t about to cower in a corner because this man had the power to intimidate.
‘Absolutely never, Mr O’Brien. Now, if you’d care to wait in the outer office, I’ll get you that coffee you’re apparently so desperately in need of.’
For a long tension-filled moment, during which Morgen would swear the only thought in his mind was to give her the sack on the spot, Conall treated her to one of his hard, unrelenting stares, then surprisingly turned away to move towards the door.
‘Strong and black, Miss McKenzie—no sugar. You don’t mind if I use your office to do some work?’
‘Go ahead.’
Feeling like a deflated balloon, she almost sagged against the desk when he’d gone. When she next saw Derek…she couldn’t decide whether she’d read him the Riot Act or simply wring his neck.
Conall drew out a sheaf of papers from his briefcase and rubbed at the pain throbbing in his temple. If he didn’t catch up with some sleep soon they’d have to carry him out of there on a stretcher. It wasn’t because he was unaccustomed to a long working day, or even working seven days a week—it was all grist to the mill as far as he was concerned. That was how he’d built up the business when his father had retired to ‘let his son take the reins’. But, having had non-stop meetings five days running and then two consecutive long-haul flights—one from California to New York, where he’d touched base at the office, then from New York on to London—his body needed sleep like a prisoner on Death Row needed to stay awake.
Taking another mouthful of the strong black coffee Morgen had brought him, he stopped reading the writing on the page in front of him and thought about the woman he’d just met. Where he lived they used the expression ‘hot’. As far as her figure and her face went, Morgen McKenzie was on fire. Even though his rage at her boss’s ineptitude, as well as finding her asleep at her desk, had almost made him lose it big time, his hormones wouldn’t have been in prime working order if he hadn’t reacted to the beautiful girl in front of him. And, God knows, he’d reacted.
When he’d discovered her on her knees in Holden’s office, trying to hide the blatant evidence of the man’s drinking problem, it had taken just one dazzling glance from those big green eyes of hers to almost make him forget what he was there for. It hadn’t helped matters either when the vee of her blouse had gaped a little, unwittingly giving him a very sexy glimpse of her gorgeous cleavage, white lace bra and all. He’d received a sexual charge so acute that for a moment his thoughts had been scrambled to the four corners of the earth.
Of course he couldn’t help being angry that she’d been asleep at her desk. He had a reputation for being hard but fair to his employees, and could be generous to a fault to the people who deserved it, but he absolutely deplored slackers—workers who didn’t pull their weight. One look at Morgen and he’d hazarded a guess that the lady had been burning the candle at both ends—no wonder she was tired! With looks like hers she doubtless had a queue of admirers going round the block—what reason would she have to stay home and mope when she could be out on the town every night? Never mind the effect it had on her performance at work. The thought made his blood boil. Who would blame him if he gave her her walking papers along with her boss?
Conall sighed and rubbed a hand round his beard-roughened jaw. Trouble was, Derek Holden had been a rising star amongst the young architects in the UK office. Up until recently Conall had only received the best reports. One of the main reasons for his visit—apart from appeasing his mother—was to find out what had been going wrong. Of course he wasn’t about to reveal as much to the provocative Miss McKenzie. He decided he’d let her stew for a little while—keep her guessing as to whether she or her boss were about to lose their jobs. That at least ought to get some proper work out of her.
‘Can I get you some more coffee?’
She breezed into the room, a flush on her pretty face that was immediately arresting and her dark hair floating loose from its fastening. Conall sensed straight away that she’d been up to something.
‘Who were you phoning?’ he asked smoothly, using the time to make another leisurely inventory of her face and figure. ‘Could it be the hapless Mr Holden, by any chance?’
Guilt was written all over her face as plain as day, and Conall wondered if her feelings were always so transparent.
‘If I’d spoken to Derek I would have told you,’ she replied testily. ‘If you must know I rang my mother—to let her know that I’d probably be home late.’
‘You live with your mother?’ Now she had really surprised him. Conall studied her features with renewed interest, momentarily mesmerised by her sexily shaped mouth with its highly desirable plump lower lip. He put down his coffee cup and made a discreet adjustment to his sitting position.
‘She’s staying with me at the moment because she hasn’t been very well.’
Morgen hesitated to reveal that the real reason her mother was staying with her was that she was looking after Neesha, her daughter, who had been poorly these last few days. Her stomach tightened at the thought of her little girl suffering in any way, but she couldn’t afford to take time off when Derek was absent from the office more often than he was in. Especially not now, when she had the big boss breathing down her neck, probably looking for any reason—however trivial—to sack her. She didn’t want him automatically assuming, as so many employers did, that if she had a child she would be somehow less reliable or committed to her job. The truth of the matter was that she was even more reliable and committed to her job because she had responsibilities at home.
Frustration bit along her nerves. She wished he wouldn’t look at her so closely, as if she was some sort of interesting foreign object beneath a microscope. Ever since that remark earlier, about what she did for Derek, she’d been feeling extremely self-conscious. If only he would go! Why was he hanging around in her office when he could surely hang around with the VIPs upstairs? Was he laying some sort of trap to catch poor Derek out?
‘I’m sorry to hear that, but if you think I’m going to be more lenient with you because you’ve got troubles at home, then I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed, Miss McKenzie.’
Was he going to sack her? A wave of anger washed over her at the thought. It was so unfair! She hadn’t had one day off since she’d started this job, and she stayed until at least six or six-thirty most nights. Just her luck to doze off at her desk and for him to walk in right at that moment! She’d even given up several Saturdays to accompany Derek to site meetings and take notes, but what would Mr Big-Shot know about that? No, he’d simply taken one look at her and assumed the worst. Well, she wasn’t going to go down without a fight, that was for sure!
‘Are you threatening me, Mr O’Brien?’
‘I found you asleep at your desk, Miss McKenzie. In my book that’s a sacking offence.’
His jaw was very square and very hard-looking, and right now Morgen wanted to punch it and knock him off his chair.
‘And does the concept “innocent until proven guilty” ring any bells with you?’ She was shaking so hard that she was barely able to get the words out.
Conall leaned forward to lay his sheaf
