would somehow make her vulnerable, she began, ‘Well, I came to work for Dalton International when—’
‘I’m not asking about the business side,’ he broke in with a touch of impatience. ‘It’s you I want to know about. How old are you?’
Reminding herself that he was her boss as well as Alan’s, she replied stiffly, ‘Twenty-two.’
‘Where do you live?’
‘In Bayswater.’
‘Alone?’
‘I share a flat.’
‘With Brent?’
‘With a girlfriend.’
‘Where were you born?’
‘Oxford.’
‘Have you any brothers or sisters?’
‘No, I was an only child.’ She was answering each question with studied politeness, but making very little effort to elaborate.
His annoyance barely masked, he said peremptorily, ‘I would prefer you to tell me in your own words rather than make it into an interrogation.’
Allowing a few seconds for that to sink in, he added, ‘Suppose you start with your home background—parents, schooling, that kind of thing.’
‘My father was a historian, an academic who lived in Chaucer’s time rather than in the real world. My mother was a career woman, and ran a successful secretarial agency. They were both in their late thirties and set in their ways before I was born.’
Making no comment, his eyes on her face, he waited.
Flatly, dispassionately, she went on, ‘Because neither of them wanted, or had any time for, a child, they hired a nanny until I was old enough to be sent away to boarding-school.’
An expression she couldn’t decipher crossed his face, before he asked, ‘Were you happy there?’
‘Most of the time.’ Except when holidays came round. Then, because it wasn’t ‘convenient’ to have her home, her parents had farmed her out to various distant relatives, until she’d been old enough to make her own plans.
‘And when you left school?’
‘I went to college.’
In response to his little frown of irritation, she continued, ‘When I graduated last year, I was offered a job at Dalton International, and I’ve been Alan’s secretary and personal assistant for the past five months.’
Her left hand was lightly gripping the arm of her chair, and, noticing Lang Dalton’s glance linger on her engagement ring, she found herself wondering whether he questioned Alan’s motives for giving her the job.
Lifting her chin, she asked, ‘But perhaps you think I wasn’t experienced enough to have been offered such a post?’
‘I don’t think anything of the kind. When Brent made you his PA, he was acting on my instructions.’
Cassandra’s green eyes widened. She’d had absolutely no idea. Alan hadn’t breathed a word.
‘Surprised?’ Lang Dalton didn’t miss a thing.
‘Yes,’ she admitted. Then, with an odd little shiver, she began, ‘Why did you—?’
He cut her short. ‘I knew you had all the necessary qualifications.’
So had several other people who had been with Dalton’s a great deal longer.
Cassandra had presumed at the time that it was Alan’s decision. He’d been taking her out for several weeks, and, afraid there might be strings attached, she had thought long and hard before accepting.
Watching her transparent face, Lang asked, ‘What’s Brent like to work for?’
Alan had turned out to be a very good boss, and working for him had proved a pleasure.
She said as much, and watched Lang Dalton smile sardonically.
‘You think I’m prejudiced?’
‘Aren’t you?’
‘No,’ she denied hardly. ‘I’m sure anyone else would tell you the same.’
‘Your loyalty does you credit.’
Refusing to protest further, she bit her lip and said nothing.
‘When did you two get engaged?’
‘About three months ago.’
‘And you’re planning to get married…when?’
‘In just over a week.’
‘I had the impression it was next spring.’
‘We brought the date forward.’
‘Any particular reason?’ he asked idly.
Flushing furiously, she said in a half-strangled voice, ‘I’m not pregnant, Mr Dalton, if that’s what you mean,’ and watched the build-up of tension in his big frame relax.
‘Forgive me,’ he said smoothly, ‘but there’s always a possibility, and it might have affected my future plans for the pair of you.’
Taken aback, she asked, ‘What kind of future plans?’
Ignoring the question, he asked abruptly, ‘Do you love Brent?’
Her private feelings had nothing whatsoever to do with this arrogant man, and for a moment she was sorely tempted to jump up and walk away. But, knowing any open discourtesy on her part might rebound on Alan, she hesitated.
The dark blue eyes pinned her. ‘You obviously feel that I’ve no right to be asking such personal questions.’
Meeting his gaze steadily, she said, ‘I really can’t see that they’re relevant.’
‘Brent is poised to go to the top in my organization, and a top executive’s working life is invariably affected by his or her private life.
‘I’ve found from past experience that it’s almost impossible to separate the two. So before I promote anyone I feel justified in asking enough questions to size up the situation…’
So that was why they had both been invited. What he’d meant by future plans.
‘It’s up to you, of course. You don’t have to answer.’
But if she didn’t it would no doubt adversely affect Alan’s prospects.
Biting back her resentment, she said, ‘I love him very much. I wouldn’t be marrying him if I didn’t.’
His blue eyes cynical,
