to a halt. He turned to face her in the semi-darkness. ‘I’ll wait here,’ he said. ‘Let me know if you need a hand with anything.’
‘Thanks.’ She climbed out of the low car, walked to the front door and pressed the bell.
She had to wait several minutes, and was contemplating leaving a note, when the door was opened and a tall, tousled-haired young man stood stock-still, and then a grin split his face in two.
‘Shauna!’ he said in surprise, and then, ‘Shauna!’ again in a tone of delight. ‘You dark horse, you! Why didn’t you say?’
‘Because I didn’t know until recently,’ she laughed. ‘And you know the advert you sent me? I got the job!’
‘You got the job!’ he echoed in delight, and before she could stop him he had caught her up in his arms and whirled her round and round.
‘Put me down, Harry,’ she giggled. ‘You’ll give yourself a hernia!’ But as he carefully lowered her back on to the step she saw over his shoulder that Max Ryder was no longer sitting in his car, but lounging against the bonnet—his expression in the darkness unreadable, but, even in that outwardly relaxed stance, there was no mistaking the coiled tension in the long limbs. Obviously, he must have seen Harry embrace her, and she wondered why she should mind that he had.
Harry looked at her closely. ‘You look fabulous, Shauna,’ he said quietly. ‘But pensive. Come in. Have a drink?’
She shook her head regretfully, eyeing the familiarly shabby hall with affection. ‘I can’t. I’ve got someone waiting. He’s offered me a job and accommodation. I’m here to collect my stuff.’
‘So? Invite him in, too.’
Shauna took in the overflowing books, the half-empty wine bottle, last Sunday’s—and the Sunday’s before that!—newspapers littering the floor. She could just imagine the minimalist, bonsai-loving Max Ryder fitting in here!
‘I don’t think so, Harry,’ she smiled at him fondly. ‘He hasn’t even shown me the flat, yet—and he’s expecting a phone call from Paris. But I’ll come round another night—you can cook me one of your famous Bolognese sauces, and we’ll catch up on all the gossip.’
Harry frowned. ‘If only we hadn’t let your old room out.’
‘I would hardly have expected you to hold on to it for two years!’ exclaimed Shauna. ‘That would be stretching friendship a little too far!’
‘No, I suppose not.’
‘It was good of you to keep my stuff for me.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Listen, I’d better not keep—’
‘No, of course not. I’ll get your stuff.’ He retreated into the larger bedroom. ‘Nick will be sorry to have missed you,’ he called out. ‘Did you know he’s in love?’
‘He wrote and told me! What’s she like?’
He reappeared, carrying two large suitcases. ‘Great—when she’s not sitting gazing at him like a lovesick puppy!’
‘You next, then,’ teased Shauna.
‘Is that an offer?’ he smiled.
They heard a loud toot from outside before she had a chance to reply. Shauna knew immediately who it would be.
‘That’ll be my new boss,’ she explained. ‘I’d better go.’
Harry pushed the curtain open a crack. ‘Flash car,’ he observed. ‘What’s he like?’
Shauna peeped out—he was still standing there. ‘The kind of man your mother told you never to go out with—well, most mothers,’ amended Shauna.
‘Lucky devil,’ said Harry gloomily. ‘I have the opposite trouble—instant parental approval—very boring!’
There was a momentary pause. ‘Thanks for my free holiday,’ he smiled. ‘I had a great time.’
He’d travelled out to Portugal in the summer, and her boss had put him up for the fortnight.
She grinned her agreement. ‘Me too. And thanks again for finding me the ad.’
They stood for a moment, hands clasped like the old friends they were—their brief and youthful romance long forgotten. ‘I’ll carry your cases to the car for you,’ he said.
A dark figure loomed up out of the shadows. ‘There’s no need for that,’ contradicted a deep voice, and Shauna started to see Max Ryder standing there, automatically moving away to break the contact, wondering what had caused the faint upward curl of his lip.
She performed the necessary introductions, but she thought that her new boss was decidedly lukewarm in his greeting, and Harry was uncharacteristically taciturn. In fact, for some reason neither man seemed to like the other very much.
Amid promises to call soon, Shauna and Max roared off down the street. There was silence for a moment. Then he spoke.
‘I thought I asked you not to be long,’ he said tetchily as he put his foot down on the accelerator. ‘I hope I’m not going to miss my call.’
‘Sorry,’ she said automatically.
Max gave her a sideways glance. ‘After such a fond reunion, I’m surprised your lover doesn’t want you to stay with him.’
So he had seen them embrace. ‘He is not my lover,’ she said, in an angry voice. Not any more, she thought. An attempt at young love years ago which had fizzled out almost as soon as it had started. Not that she was going to explain that to him. He was her boss, and he had absolutely no right whatsoever to comment on her private life. ‘And even if he were, it’s none of your business.’ Which didn’t come out at all the way she had intended it to.
She saw his hands tighten on the steering-wheel, as if he was not used to being spoken to in such a way, and she might have tried to amend her snapped response, but a glance at the cold, hard profile told her that she would be wise to say nothing, so she stared out into the night as Hyde Park swept by them.
He didn’t speak again until they had arrived back in Mayfair. He was not, Shauna decided, the type of man to engage in meaningless pleasantries.
‘I’ll show you the apartment now.’ He frowned as he glanced again at the pale gold wristwatch. ‘You must be hungry.’
So he was back to being civil. ‘Starving,’ she admitted.
This time, the lift went right past the third floor where he’d interviewed her, and the doors opened straight into an enormous sitting-room. The carpet was white, and littered with Persian rugs. The walls were also white, with several large modern canvases which fitted in perfectly with the simple leather furniture.
Shauna suppressed a gasp. Surely he couldn’t mean that this was her flat? Compared to the dark cubby-hole she’d had in Lisbon, this place was like a palace.
‘The kitchen’s through here,’ he was saying. ‘There’s a bathroom off that passage over there, but of course your room
