are reading, photography and, more recently, watercolour painting, which she says has honed her observational skills and is a definite advantage when it comes to writing.
SMOKY blue eyes looked with shocked disbelief into delicate green ones. Seconds ticked away. Zane was the first to speak.
‘You!’ he exclaimed, his voice deep and gruff and entirely disbelieving, almost accusatory.
Lucinda nodded, slowly and deliberately. ‘Yes, it’s me, and I’m as surprised as you are.’
Except that surprised was far too mild a word. Even shocked wasn’t good enough. Stunned perhaps. And had she known who to expect she would never have come here today. Zane Alexander was not on her list of favourite people. Her experience working for him a few years ago had shown he was insensitive, uncaring and a whole host of other adjectives she could have put her mind to had she wanted. Except—that business was business.
‘What are you doing here?’ came the next curt question.
‘You sent for me.’ Her eyes were full of innocence. ‘I have an appointment.’
‘But—you’re a nanny!’
Lucinda allowed her lips to curve into a smile. Not that it held any pleasure. Her only pleasure was in seeing this man at a loss. ‘I was a nanny,’ she corrected. ‘And, by the way, how’s Tim?’
‘Very well,’ he responded.
‘And I only did it to fund myself while I was preparing to go into business,’ she explained.
Zane Alexander frowned. ‘But it couldn’t have been more than two years ago. Three at the most! How can you possibly be—’
‘Experienced?’ she suggested sweetly. ‘Believe me, Mr Alexander, I’m very experienced.’
Blue eyes narrowed and one brow crooked upwards. Although Lucinda knew what he was thinking she didn’t let it show. She kept a cool smile on her lips and a question in her eyes.
Zane Alexander’s brow dropped again until his eyes levelled on hers. ‘Show me your credentials.’
Lucinda reached out her portfolio and sat there quietly while he studied it. In turn she chose to study him. He was really quite a handsome man—it was a pity he didn’t have a handsome character to match. In the few weeks she had worked for him she had seen enough to recognise that he thought more of going out with one of his numerous lady friends than he did caring for his son.
He had medium blond hair that waved in gorgeous disarray. It was cut reasonably short in an effort to tame it but without much success. She bet it was the only thing in his life he couldn’t take control of.
His eyes were beautifully shaped and a dusky sort of blue, like smoke out of a chimney, with fair lashes and light eyebrows that matched his hair both in colour and disobedience. His mouth was full and wide and at this moment compressed. It was a very mobile mouth, though. She had seen it smiling and even laughing, as well as expressing the grimness he showed at this moment. It was a nice mouth, she admitted reluctantly.
‘I have to confess,’ he said now, waving the folder, ‘that this is very impressive. And you did come highly recommended.’
‘Is that a compliment?’ she asked, eyes wide and questioning.
‘Not at all!’ came the swift reply. ‘I’m not in the habit of handing out compliments to people I hardly know. But I can see that you’ll be capable of doing the job I want.’
‘And that would be?’ she asked. When his PA had phoned to make the appointment with her secretary, apart from saying that it was a prestigious interior design job for Mr Alexander of Revelation Holdings, no further details had been given. The name Alexander had meant nothing to her. She certainly hadn’t equated it with the Mr Alexander she had done the nannying job for and she was deeply curious as to why he had sent for her.
Nothing around here needed refurbishing. His office block was modern, immaculate and totally awe-inspiring. All the best quality materials had been used, the colours were muted and restful and the right accents added. And, from memory, his house was the same! Large and impressive and flawless.
Perhaps he was moving? Perhaps he’d bought a second home? Perhaps his business was expanding? There was no end of possibilities. She waited patiently for him to tell her.
It was rare for Zane Alexander to be taken by surprise, but today he had been literally swept off his feet when Lucinda Oliver had walked into his office. When he’d last seen her she had simply introduced herself as Lucy, and although she was a lovely looking girl he hadn’t thought about her since.
Today she looked far more grown-up, with her flaming Titian hair brushed back in some sort of fancy loop, revealing the fine bone structure of her face and her long elegant neck. Carefully made-up green eyes shone from a matt complexion, her nose was beautifully straight and her mouth held only the merest hint of lip-gloss.
He suddenly realised that she was waiting to hear about the job and he was forced to give his head a mental shake before he could take his eyes from her. He pressed a button on the console on his desk to draw the window blinds, then another to slide down a huge screen that took up most of one wall.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked.
A tiny nod of her head was all the response he got.
The first image appeared on the screen. ‘This is a property I’ve recently acquired,’ he announced. ‘I’ve had one or two alterations made to it but now I need someone to add the finishing touches. I’ve been told you’re the best.’
Lucinda lifted well-shaped brows. ‘I thank whoever said that, although personally I don’t think I have yet achieved such stardom, but I do pride myself on my work and I’ve already won an award, if that’s good enough for you. Where is this property?’ It was a sprawling one-storey building, set amongst palm trees and tropical blue skies. ‘Not in England, that’s for sure,’ she added.
‘You’re right. I wasn’t going to tell you until you’d seen the rest of the photographs, but since you’ve asked—it’s in St Lucia.’
‘The Caribbean?’ Her green eyes widened ever so slightly and he realised how beautiful they were—wide-spaced and long-lashed—and he wondered why he had never noticed them before. They were expressive eyes and at this moment they revealed an inner tension. She was clearly feeling apprehensive. Perhaps it was because of who he was? Perhaps she had never taken on a job out of England? Perhaps he was asking too much of her?
‘That’s right,’ he answered, watching her closely.
‘And you expect me to go all the way out there?’ An even deeper incredulity darkened her eyes.
‘All expenses paid, of course,’ he answered smoothly, smiling now at her expression. ‘I take it that you’re not accustomed to jetting around the world for the sake of your job?’
‘No, I’m not.’
‘Would you object
