The Billionaire Boss's Innocent Bride by Lindsay Armstrong Page B
Authors: Lindsay Armstrong
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filigree.
It was a work of art, Alex concluded, and when you added the lemon and orange trees in terracotta tubs dotted about and the view beyond, it was a magic setting. In fact it was Nicky who summed it all up in one word.
‘Wow!’ he said, and Nemo added his approval.
‘Well, young man,’ Jake said to Nicky, ‘do we have a treat in store for you! Your favourite DVD, I believe, and hamburgers for lunch. Hello, Miss Hill! Now, Nemo, having seen what you can do, a word in your ear.’ And he walked away taking Nicky and the dog with him, but Nicky turned back and waved at Alex. ‘Don’t forget, you’re my real nanny!’
Jake stopped and looked over his shoulder at his employer with a faint frown.
‘Slight change of plan, Jake,’ Max said. ‘I didn’t get a chance to let you know. Alex will—help out. By the way, she’s staying down here for a few nights—her bag’s in the boot. I forgot.’
‘Alex!’ Nicky called.
‘I won’t forget,’ Alex promised. They disappeared indoors and she turned to Max Goodwin.
‘I really appreciate you doing this out of the goodness of your heart, Alex,’ he got in first.
‘I’m only doing it because you gave me no choice,’ she responded tartly. ‘Without being cruel to kids and animals!’ she added with some satire. ‘Look, I appreciate your—’ she gestured as she sought for an appropriate word ‘—dilemma—’
‘For want of a better word?’ he broke in. ‘My disastrous domestic situation could say it better.’
‘Whatever. It’s none of my business, but I don’t appreciate being manipulated like that. What?’ she queried as he looked over her shoulder.
‘The guests are arriving.’
It was a lunch she was to remember with an air of unreality.
Max Goodwin commanded one table with Alex at his side and his vice-president the other with Mr Li next to him. Paul O’Hara was at Max’s table seated opposite Alex and once again he couldn’t conceal the admiration in his eyes when he caught Alex’s gaze.
The fare was on a par with the setting: smoked salmon with lemon juice and capers on wholemeal toast to start and washed down with champagne. The staff, discreetly commanded, were expert. Rack of lamb sprinkled with rosemary followed and individual very Australian pavlovas garnished with passion fruit and cream followed the cheese boards.
The speeches were quite short and had been pre-prepared and distributed in both languages so, again, it was conversation Alex had to deal with. She did so with only a slight stammer or two to start with as she tried to push everything that had happened out of her mind.
And finally it was over and the guests started to depart.
She stood beside Max but a step behind as they bowed their farewells. But as the last of the guests left and Paul O’Hara approached she went to turn away rather precipitously, but her unfamiliar high heels betrayed her and she tripped. She gave a gasp of pain as her ankle twisted.
Whereupon Max Goodwin strode up to her and picked her up in his arms. ‘I’ll catch up with you later, Paul,’ he said over his shoulder But while Max didn’t see it, Alex saw that frown of concern again in Paul O’Hara’s eyes and again she wondered why—
before she turned her head away.
‘I don’t need—’ she began.
‘Don’t say a word,’ Max advised and carried her into a small sitting room, chintzy and comfortable with the blinds half drawn against the afternoon sun. It was a cool, soothing room with a bowl of pink roses delicately scenting the air. He put her down in an armchair, closed the door and pulled up a padded footstool. He pulled off his jacket, loosened his tie, then he sat down on the footstool and lifted the ankle she’d twisted onto his lap and pulled off her shoe, all with careful consideration.
He felt her ankle. ‘We need to talk, anyway, Alex. It would be fair to say I’ve been literally sandbagged, which doesn’t happen to me often,’ he said dryly. ‘So I
It was a work of art, Alex concluded, and when you added the lemon and orange trees in terracotta tubs dotted about and the view beyond, it was a magic setting. In fact it was Nicky who summed it all up in one word.
‘Wow!’ he said, and Nemo added his approval.
‘Well, young man,’ Jake said to Nicky, ‘do we have a treat in store for you! Your favourite DVD, I believe, and hamburgers for lunch. Hello, Miss Hill! Now, Nemo, having seen what you can do, a word in your ear.’ And he walked away taking Nicky and the dog with him, but Nicky turned back and waved at Alex. ‘Don’t forget, you’re my real nanny!’
Jake stopped and looked over his shoulder at his employer with a faint frown.
‘Slight change of plan, Jake,’ Max said. ‘I didn’t get a chance to let you know. Alex will—help out. By the way, she’s staying down here for a few nights—her bag’s in the boot. I forgot.’
‘Alex!’ Nicky called.
‘I won’t forget,’ Alex promised. They disappeared indoors and she turned to Max Goodwin.
‘I really appreciate you doing this out of the goodness of your heart, Alex,’ he got in first.
‘I’m only doing it because you gave me no choice,’ she responded tartly. ‘Without being cruel to kids and animals!’ she added with some satire. ‘Look, I appreciate your—’ she gestured as she sought for an appropriate word ‘—dilemma—’
‘For want of a better word?’ he broke in. ‘My disastrous domestic situation could say it better.’
‘Whatever. It’s none of my business, but I don’t appreciate being manipulated like that. What?’ she queried as he looked over her shoulder.
‘The guests are arriving.’
It was a lunch she was to remember with an air of unreality.
Max Goodwin commanded one table with Alex at his side and his vice-president the other with Mr Li next to him. Paul O’Hara was at Max’s table seated opposite Alex and once again he couldn’t conceal the admiration in his eyes when he caught Alex’s gaze.
The fare was on a par with the setting: smoked salmon with lemon juice and capers on wholemeal toast to start and washed down with champagne. The staff, discreetly commanded, were expert. Rack of lamb sprinkled with rosemary followed and individual very Australian pavlovas garnished with passion fruit and cream followed the cheese boards.
The speeches were quite short and had been pre-prepared and distributed in both languages so, again, it was conversation Alex had to deal with. She did so with only a slight stammer or two to start with as she tried to push everything that had happened out of her mind.
And finally it was over and the guests started to depart.
She stood beside Max but a step behind as they bowed their farewells. But as the last of the guests left and Paul O’Hara approached she went to turn away rather precipitously, but her unfamiliar high heels betrayed her and she tripped. She gave a gasp of pain as her ankle twisted.
Whereupon Max Goodwin strode up to her and picked her up in his arms. ‘I’ll catch up with you later, Paul,’ he said over his shoulder But while Max didn’t see it, Alex saw that frown of concern again in Paul O’Hara’s eyes and again she wondered why—
before she turned her head away.
‘I don’t need—’ she began.
‘Don’t say a word,’ Max advised and carried her into a small sitting room, chintzy and comfortable with the blinds half drawn against the afternoon sun. It was a cool, soothing room with a bowl of pink roses delicately scenting the air. He put her down in an armchair, closed the door and pulled up a padded footstool. He pulled off his jacket, loosened his tie, then he sat down on the footstool and lifted the ankle she’d twisted onto his lap and pulled off her shoe, all with careful consideration.
He felt her ankle. ‘We need to talk, anyway, Alex. It would be fair to say I’ve been literally sandbagged, which doesn’t happen to me often,’ he said dryly. ‘So I
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