A Spanish Affair. Helen Brooks

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A Spanish Affair - Helen Brooks Mills & Boon Modern

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      ‘Georgie.’ Robert’s voice was not loud but the quality of his tone told her she had gone as far as she could go.

      ‘I think it might be better if you waited in your office, Miss Millett,’ Matt de Capistrano suggested smoothly, nodding his head at the door through which her small cubby-hole of a place was situated.

      Georgie longed to defy him—she had never longed for anything so much in all her life—but something in Robert’s eyes forced her to comply without another word.

      For the first time since childhood she found herself biting her nails as she sat at her desk piled high with paperwork, the interconnecting door to Robert’s office now firmly shut. She could just hear the low murmur of voices from within, but the actual conversation was indistinguishable, and as time slipped by her apprehension grew.

      How long did it take to rip up a contract and say bye-bye? she thought painfully. Matt de Capistrano wasn’t going to twist the knife in some way to pay her back for her rudeness, was he? Those few minutes in there had made it plain he’d never been spoken to like that before in his life, and a man like him didn’t take such an insult lying down. Not that she had actually spoken to him when she’d insulted him, just about him. She groaned softly. Her and her big mouth. Oh, why, why had he had to come in at that precise moment and why had she left the door to her office open so he’d heard every word? And Robert. Why hadn’t he told her how bad things were?

      The abrupt opening of the door caught her by surprise and she raised anxious green eyes to see Matt de Capistrano looking straight at her, a hard, speculative gleam in the dark grey eyes. ‘Daydreaming, Miss Millett?’

      The tone of his voice could have indicated he was being friendly, lightly amusing in a pleasant teasing fashion, but Georgie was looking into his face—unlike the two behind him—and she knew different. ‘Of course. What else do temporary secretaries do?’ she answered sweetly, her green eyes narrowing as she stared her dislike.

      He smiled, moving to stand by her desk as he said, ‘I intend to phone your brother tonight from Scotland after certain enquiries have been made. The call will be of vital importance so can you make sure the line is free?’

      ‘Certainly.’ She knew exactly what he was implying and now added, ‘I’ll let all my friends and my hairdresser and beautician know not to call me then, shall I?’ in helpful, dulcet tones.

      His mouth tightened; it clearly wasn’t often he was answered in like vein. ‘Just so.’ The harsh face could have been set in stone. ‘I shall be working to a tight schedule so time is of the essence.’

      ‘Absolutely, Mr de Capistrano.’

      The grey gaze held her one more moment and then he swept past her, the secretary and Robert at his heels, and as the door closed behind them Georgie sank back in her seat and let out a big whoosh of a sigh. Horrible man! Horrible, horrible man! She ignored the faint odour of expensive aftershave and the way it was making her senses quiver and concentrated her mind on loathing him instead.

      She could hear the sound of voices outside the building and surmised they must all be standing in the little yard, and, after rising from her chair, she peeped cautiously through the blind at the window.

      Matt de Capistrano and his secretary were just getting into a chauffeur-driven silver Mercedes, and even from this distance he was intimidating. Not that he had intimidated her, Georgie told herself strongly in the next moment, not a bit of it, but he was one of those men who was uncomfortably, in-your-face male. There was a sort of dark power about him, an aggressive virility that was impossible to ignore, and it was…Georgie searched for the right word and found it. Disturbing. He was disturbing. But he was leaving now and with any luck she would never set eyes on him again.

      And then she suddenly realised what she was thinking and offered up a quick urgent prayer of repentance. Robert’s whole business, his livelihood, everything hung on Matt de Capistrano giving him this contract; how could she—for one second—wish he didn’t get it? But she hadn’t, she hadn’t wished that, she reassured herself frantically the next moment, just that she wouldn’t see Matt de Capistrano again. But if Robert got the job—by some miracle—of course she’d have to see him if she continued working here. ‘Oh…’ She sighed again, loudly and irritably. The man had got her in such a state she didn’t know what she was thinking!

      ‘Well!’ Robert opened the door and he was smiling. ‘We might, we just might be back in business again.’

      ‘Really?’ Georgie forgot all about her dislike of Matt de Capistrano as the naked hope in her brother’s face touched her heart. ‘He’s going to help?’

      ‘Maybe.’ Robert was clearly trying to keep a hold on his optimism but he couldn’t disguise his relief as he said, ‘He’s not dismissed it out of hand anyway. It all depends on that phone call tonight and then we’ll know one way or the other. He’s going to make some enquiries. I can’t blame him; I’d do the same in his shoes.’

      ‘Enquiries?’ Georgie raised fine arched eyebrows. ‘With whom?’

      ‘Anyone he damn well wants,’ Robert answered drily. ‘I’ve given him a host of names and numbers—the bank manager, my accountant, firms we’ve dealt with recently and so on—and told him I’ll ring them and tell them to let him have any information he wants. This is my last hope, Georgie. If the man tells me to jump through hoops I’ll turn cartwheels as well for good measure.’

      ‘Oh, Robert.’ She didn’t want him to lose everything, she didn’t, but to be rescued by Matt de Capistrano! And it was only in that moment she fully acknowledged the extent of the antagonism which had leapt into immediate life the moment she had laid eyes on the darkly handsome face. She didn’t know him, she’d barely exchanged more than a dozen words with him, and yet she disliked him more intensely than anyone else she had ever met. Well, almost anyone. Her thoughts touched on Glen before she closed that particular door in her mind.

      ‘So, cross your fingers and your toes and anything else it’s physically possible to cross,’ Robert said more quietly now, a nervous note creeping in as they stared at each other. ‘If it’s no we’re down the pan, Georgie; even the house is mortgaged up to the hilt so the kids won’t even have a roof over their heads.’

      ‘They will.’ Georgie’s voice was fierce. ‘We’ll make sure of that and we’ll all stay together too.’ But a little grotty flat somewhere wouldn’t be the same as Robert’s pleasant semi with its big garden and the tree-house he had built for the children a couple of years ago. They had lost their mother and all the security she had embodied; were they going to have to lose their home too?

      ‘Maybe.’ And then as Georgie eyed him determinedly Robert smiled as he said, ‘Definitely! But let’s hope it won’t come to uprooting the kids, Georgie. Look, get the bank on the phone for me first, would you? I need to put them and everyone else in the know and explain they’ll be getting a call from de Capistrano’s people. I don’t want anyone else to tread on his very wealthy and powerful toes.’

      Georgie looked sharply at Robert at that, and was relieved to see he was grinning at her. ‘I’m sorry about what I said,’ she said weakly. ‘I didn’t know he was there. I nearly died when I saw him.’

      ‘You and me both.’ Robert shook his head slowly. ‘I’d forgotten there’s never a dull moment around you, little sister.’

      ‘Oh, you.’

      The rest of the day sped by

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