Buttoned-Up Secretary, British Boss (11 page)

Suddenly, Sabrina felt completely anonymous, as if she wasn’t there at all, as if she was hearing everything from a long way off. She recognized that, through Melly, she was experiencing again the euphoric joy of being in love. She could only hope that her sister’s expectations wouldn’t be dashed to the ground—for whatever reason. Life could be so unfair, so unpredictable. What if Sam wasn’t all that Melly thought he was? He wasn’t exactly young—probably nearly ten years older than her sister—and would have known plenty of women. He was an attractive man. She sighed inwardly. The last thing Sabrina needed was to have to pick up the pieces of Melly’s life again if this all came to nothing.

Neither of them spoke for a few moments after that; Sabrina wondered when her sister might be interested enough to ask about what had been going on here at home, or how Sabrina was getting on with
her
job.

Presently, Melly said, ‘Oh, how’s your life—your job—going, Sabrina?’

‘Ticking along,’ Sabrina replied carefully. ‘In any case, it’s only pro tempore, as you know, until I get back to my proper job. I’m not really sure how long this one’s going to last—it could end at any time—but the pay is more than enough to cover the mortgage and all our other bills at the moment, and that’s a very comfortable feeling.’

‘Well, it looks as if I’ll be able to add to our coffers myself as soon as I get home, Sabrina,’ Melly said. ‘Because Sam’s promised me plenty of work, so I’ll be earning good money for a change.’

Suddenly, rather like she were witnessing a warm sun emerge from behind a cloud, Sabrina said, ‘By the way, Melly, I’m going to be away myself, just for a short while. It’s a work thing,’ she added. ‘I think we’re
leaving for France on Thursday—probably back mid-November. So I may not be here when you eventually get back. Is that OK?’

‘Of course. And how lovely for you, Sabrina! Have a great time, won’t you? But don’t let them work you too hard, will you?’ Melly giggled suddenly. ‘Something else I forgot to say—do you know, Sam only lives a mile away from us? He told me he’s been jogging past our house every morning for the last year! Isn’t life amazing?’

‘Oh yes—it certainly is amazing,’ Sabrina said faintly.

A
LEXANDER
paid the driver of the cab which had brought them to the airport, then he and Sabrina trundled their cases towards the entrance. He glanced down at her, noting that she’d pulled her long, fine-wool cardigan closer around her.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘There’s definitely a colder feel to the air now. But don’t worry; where we’re going it’s still lovely and warm. I checked it out last night.’

As he guided Sabrina in front of him through the revolving doors, he was still amazed and elated that she’d agreed to come with him, almost at the last minute. But, after all, she
had
promised to be his PA, hadn’t she? His right-hand woman in every way? Though, taking her abroad had never been on his agenda…He rarely invited anyone to the Barn, relishing the peace and solitude of the place, his escape route from everything and everyone.

But Sabrina was different. She was the only woman he’d ever known who he’d not quickly grown tired of, who’d never, ever, got on his nerves. And as that thought struck him, he realized that surely he must be partly to blame—that he was the one out of step, not womankind in general. It was just that so many of those he’d met all seemed to fit into the same mould as Lydia—taking
everything for granted, never satisfied for long, restless. There
had
to be women who were different, who shared his values, his perspective on life. Well, of course: wasn’t she here, right next to him?

They made their way through the crowded aisles and were shown into the lounge for business-class passengers. In spite of all her earlier reservations, Sabrina couldn’t help feeling upbeat. It
would
be good to have a change of scene, even though she’d had second thoughts after telling Alexander on Monday that she’d go with him, mostly because, judging from her latest phone call, Melly had been unstoppable, incorrigible, in her newfound euphoria. Sabrina was waiting for the bubble to burst, for the girl to come back down to earth.

For his part, Alexander had been wise enough not to show undue surprise that Sabrina was coming with him—and not to look smug, as if as usual he was going to have his own way.

‘Oh, fine,’ he’d said, noncommittally. ‘Let’s go Friday, shall we? And why don’t you have Wednesday and Thursday off, so you’ll have time to get ready.’

Her sister was, apparently, not coming home just yet—which fitted their—his—plans perfectly.

Now, as they took their places in the aircraft, Sabrina had to admit that Alexander always managed to surprise her. He exuded such power and confidence, he almost gave the impression that he could take over from the captain. Sabrina found herself basking in the comforting warmth of being with someone who was taking control of everything, who was planning out every move ahead. All she had to do was to sit there and enjoy it. She could get used to this state of affairs! she thought.

As the plane droned its way towards their destination, Alexander glanced across at Sabrina, feeling proud
to have her sitting by his side. She was wearing black, slimline trousers and a white scoop-neck top which exposed the tantalizing smoothness of her skin. With her hair coiled up on top of her head, she managed to look both smart and casual at the same time. It was the first time he’d seen her in high heels; her black patent-leather shoes completed her stunning appearance. How did she always manage to look just right? he wondered. Was there ever a time when she was caught unawares, or at a loss? Then Alexander smiled to himself, remembering her reaction when her bathroom mirror had crashed to the floor.

‘Have you done much travelling? Have you been to France?’ he asked her casually.

She turned from gazing out of the window to look up at him. ‘Yes, to Paris,’ she replied. ‘Melly and I had a five-day break there a few years ago, and we went to Brittany once or twice when we were young. But we know home shores better than foreign ones.’

‘Well, it’ll be great to show you the part of France that suits me best,’ he said. ‘Still basically unspoiled, and the perfect place to unwind.’ He smiled. ‘We do have a few neighbours, but no shops, I’m afraid—so, if you’d hoped for some retail therapy while we’re away, you’re going to be disappointed.’

‘I’m not a great shopper,’ Sabrina said. ‘So that won’t be a problem.’

She didn’t bother to add that earlier in the week she had gone into town for a couple of new things to bring away with her. Having agreed rather reluctantly to come on this trip, she’d made sure she wouldn’t run out of clothes before the end of it.

The flight only took a couple of hours or so, just long enough for them to enjoy the wine and the light
lunch which was served to them. Only ever having flown economy class before, Sabrina couldn’t help comparing the two. There seemed so much less hassle, she thought, and the extra space made all the difference. Especially to someone like Alexander, who had no difficulty in stretching out his long legs and relaxing.

‘I’ve packed my laptop in my case—’ she began, and he interrupted her.

‘Why? This is supposed to be a holiday.’

‘But—but I thought it was partly about your next novel. That’s what you said, Alexander,’ Sabrina replied. ‘You said you were hoping to find fresh inspiration…’

‘Oh, did I? Well, maybe I will, maybe I won’t—with an emphasis on the latter,’ he said breezily. ‘I intend to be thoroughly lazy and drink a great deal of wonderful wine—and I hope you’re going to join me,’ he added, smiling slowly into her upturned face. ‘And we’ll take it in turns to rush out for fresh baguettes every morning, because at exactly nine-fifteen Claudette arrives in her little white van with fresh supplies for the locals—and she doesn’t hang around. Three sharp beeps on her horn, and you’ve got about two minutes to join the queue before she makes a fast getaway.’

Picturing the scene, Sabrina couldn’t help smiling. ‘Are there really no shops—even food shops—then?’ she asked.

‘Nope. The nearest supermarket is five miles down the road, where we can restock everything now and then,’ he said. ‘But we’ll be OK for the first few days because two of my neighbours, Marcel and Nicole, will have made sure we won’t go hungry. They’re a great couple—you’ll like them. They look after my place for me when I’m away, and stock up the fridge to greet me when I come back.’

‘It sounds an ideal arrangement,’ Sabrina said. ‘You’re lucky that they’re around to do it for you.’

‘It is,’ he agreed. ‘And I am. And I bet they’ll insist we have dinner with them tonight—they know I’m bringing someone with me this time.’

Sabrina looked away as he spoke. Who did he usually bring with him? she wondered. Was there a special female that no one knew about? She kept remembering that beach photograph; when, and where, had that been taken? Then she shrugged inwardly. From Alexander’s youthful appearance on the snap, it was clearly taken rather a long time ago.

But Sabrina admitted that she was curious about her employer’s personal life. Although he’d stated that he intended to remain single—for ever, he’d said—there were bound to have been many other women. Someone with his masculine appeal could have the pick of the bunch. Whatever he’d said to her, it certainly didn’t mean that he never enjoyed the full company of a female when he felt like it. And where better to do that than in an isolated place in rural France? There wouldn’t be any photographers popping out from behind bushes to catch him unawares and provide gossip for the media. Was this his real purpose in asking her along? If so, she’d make sure she wasn’t another notch on his bedpost!

As she dwelt on all this, Sabrina wondered whether she’d made the silliest mistake in her life by coming with him. His apparent reason for inviting her had been that it would not only be a chance for a rest, but that they might do some work in relative peace. But now, apparently, he’d changed his mind about doing any writing.

The flight was smooth and uneventful, and as they came into land Sabrina stared down in fascination at the medieval city of Carcassonne. Alexander touched her
arm. ‘We’ll spend a day there before we go back home,’ he said. ‘It’s something not to be missed.’

At the airport, Alexander had made arrangements to hire a car, and as they fastened their seat belts he said, ‘It takes about forty-five minutes to get to the Barn, so sit back and enjoy the scenery.’

The roads were blissfully uncluttered, and from the effortless way Alexander negotiated the twists and turns it was obvious that he must have made this trip scores of times.

‘Where is everybody?’ Sabrina asked, staring out of the window, and Alexander chuckled.

‘That’s just the point—there isn’t anybody,’ he said. ‘That’s why I come here.’ He glanced across at her briefly. ‘Though that’s not strictly true, of course. We’ll be going through some little villages in a minute, and nearer the Barn you’ll see the huge hypermarket on the horizon.’

In almost exactly the forty-five minutes Alexander had said it would take them, Sabrina could see a cluster of buildings ahead, and soon they arrived at a small hamlet of about half a dozen dwellings. ‘This is it,’ Alexander said briefly.

As he drove slowly up the poorly maintained road, Sabrina couldn’t help feeling rather surprised. It was hardly the most inspiring scene in the world, she thought, noting that the heavy door of every building they passed looked as if it hadn’t seen a coat of paint for years, and almost all the walls seemed to be flaking and unkempt.
Hardly Alexander McDonald territory
, she thought.

He pulled in and switched off the engine. ‘Welcome,’ he said.

Inside, what a different world, a magnificent conversion from what had once been a farming necessity!
It was spacious and airy, with polished hardwood in evidence everywhere. As Alexander showed Sabrina around each room it was obvious to Sabrina that, for him, this was home from home.

There was a huge dining area with a refectory table large enough for at least ten people, and at the end was a fully fitted kitchen. On the same floor were two
en suite
bedrooms and a wet room, and tucked in one corner was a sizeable, partly obscured area for a television and a sophisticated sound-system.

Alexander led Sabrina up the beautifully crafted oak staircase to two more
en suite
bedrooms. At the end of the landing a pair of full-length windows opened out on to a balcony, from which the patio and swimming pool beneath could be seen, and ahead in the near distance was an uninterrupted view of rows and rows of vine trees and olive groves.

Almost lost for words, Sabrina looked up at him. ‘Alexander,’ she said slowly. ‘What an absolutely lovely place.’ She thought,
never judge a book by its cover!
How could she ever have guessed what lay beyond that rather scruffy front door?

‘I had a feeling you might like it,’ he murmured.

Then, they went down to the lower floor and made their way through the games room, complete with table tennis and snooker tables, and out on to the patio.

‘I usually swim most mornings,’ Alexander said casually. ‘And, if it’s hot, several other times of the day as well.’ He smiled down at her. ‘I told you it would still be warm here. Marcel told me on the phone that it’s been a good year for weather.’

If she’d had any worries about coming here, those worries had suddenly disappeared! This was a magical place; who couldn’t be happy here just for a couple of
weeks?
I’m going to enjoy every minute of this totally unexpected holiday
, she thought.
And I have no fears where Alexander McDonald is concerned, either…I know exactly how to take care of him, if I have to!

‘What a lovely surprise that Alex has brought…a
friend
with him this time,’ Simone said, pouring another glass of wine for Sabrina and pushing it along the table towards her.

Alexander had been right when he’d said there would be an invitation for dinner from the French couple, and Sabrina had to admit that Simone and Marcel LeFevre were everything he’d described.

The pair were in their fifties, Sabrina guessed, Marcel a dark, swarthy, good-natured man, his wife a rather round-figured woman with light-coloured, frizzy hair and shrewd blue eyes.

Their home was a pretty, ancient farmhouse with swimming pool—obviously not as grand as Alexander’s. But their table groaned beneath delicious, unusual cheeses, a massive langoustine soufflé and salad, and home-made pastries straight from the oven to eat with crème fraîche and sweet almonds. And there was wine, and more wine, and rich, sensuously aromatic coffee. Would she need another thing to eat ever again? Sabrina asked herself.

It was getting late, and the two men had gone out onto the patio to chat, Marcel puffing happily on a cheroot. Simone leaned forward conspiratorially, her perfect English prettily laced with her own accent.

‘Alex told Marcel on the telephone that he was bringing someone with him this time, but we never thought it would be a beautiful woman,’ she said. She paused, unashamedly looking Sabrina up and down. ‘I feel so
glad, because as soon as I saw him today he looked different. Not so…sad, as he usually does.’

‘Sad?’ Sabrina said curiously.

‘Oh,
mais oui
! Yes, sad,
chérie
,’ Simone said emphatically. ‘We have talked about it many times, Marcel and I, and always thought it was to do with the writing—his head always in another world, he has no time to think much about the one he’s living in.’

Sabrina thought about that for a moment.

‘His home—the Barn—is very big, just for him, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Doesn’t he ever bring anyone here with him?’

‘Never. Always alone,’ Simone said. ‘He has lent it to one or two friends in the past—and his brother came here once with a woman—but Alex seems to like being here alone. Which doesn’t seem
natural
for a man, not natural for someone like Alex.’ She smiled quickly. ‘Have you known him a long time?’ she ventured curiously.

Sabrina smiled back, not minding the question because it was obvious that the woman had a real liking for Alexander, cared about him.

‘About six weeks,’ she replied. ‘I’m his secretary.’

‘Ah,
ça va
? His secretary…’ Simone said, nodding her head slowly.