In Bed With The Boss

‘He does exist, then? He’s not just a figment of your wishful imagination?’

‘Of course he exists!’ she said firmly. ‘I wouldn’t be resigning from my job if he didn’t!’

His chin clipped up as if she had hit him. ‘Wait a minute; is that the only reason you’re resigning—because you’re getting married?’

‘Staying on isn’t really an option…’ she began carefully.

He slid off the desk. ‘What?’ He was genuinely outraged. ‘You’re giving up a job you love because this paragon of yours doesn’t want his wife to work? What is this—the Dark Ages? Why didn’t you tell the Neanderthal where to get off?’

‘Because it’s not like that—’

‘What is it like, then? Are you planning to move away, is that it? Doesn’t he live in Auckland?’

‘Yes, he does, but—’

His brain was already fast-forwarding to other possibilities. He was piecing together her unease, her embarrassment and unaccustomed reluctance to get to the point. He blanched. ‘Are you pregnant?’

His eyes bored into her flat stomach with an intensity that suggested he had X-ray vision. Kalera felt a tightening in her womb as she was swamped by a sense of intimate invasion. Instinctively she flattened a protective hand over her abdomen and something dark and dangerous smouldered to life in the piercing navy eyes.

‘Did you and your lover get careless? Is that the reason for this indecent rush to the altar? You know, illegitimacy doesn’t carry the stigma it used to—’

That was going too far, even for Duncan. Kalera leapt to her feet, her slight body vibrating like a tuning fork as she matched his outrage. ‘For goodness’ sake, what rush? We haven’t even discussed a wedding date yet!’ she yelled. ‘We’ve only just got engaged. Of course I’m not pregnant. Do you know how insulting you are? Believe it or not Stephen wants to marry me; he’s not doing it out of duty or necessity or because he’s been trapped into retrieving my soiled honour. If you’d stop trying to cram words into my mouth you might have time to listen to what I have to say!’

He fell back a pace, colour streaking back into his startled expression. Just as Duncan was famous for his temper, Kalera was renowned for her serene composure. She rarely raised her voice but when she did she used her diaphragm properly, as she had been taught during singing lessons as a child, and her normally warm, husky tones could project a shout of booming authority.

Still, it wasn’t in Duncan’s nature to be confounded for long. ‘So…at last the mystery man has a name,’ he shot back. ‘What’s the rest of it? Is he anyone I’d know?’

Kalera put her hands behind her back, squaring her shoulders proudly. ‘Actually, yes. And knowing who it is you’ll understand why I have to resign. The man I’m marrying is Stephen Prior,’ she announced.

And ducked as Duncan Royal went ballistic.

CHAPTER TWO

‘So…HOW did he take it?’

‘Not very well,’ said Kalera wryly, watching as her fiancé neatly cracked another crayfish leg between his strong fingers and extracted the meat with minimal fuss. She envied the combination of easy self-confidence and natural fastidiousness that allowed him to make it look so simple.

If Kalera had ordered the crayfish in butter sauce she would have been in grease up to her elbows by now, with all sorts of debris clinging to her face. She loved seafood but had never quite got the hang of tangling politely with crustaceans at the dinner table and in the interests of romance, not to mention her white silk dress and unbound hair, had decided to forgo the restaurant’s specialty in favour of discreetly de-boned duckling.

Stephen dabbled his fingers in the lemon-scented bowl of water beside his plate and dried them on his starched white napkin. His gold signet-ring gleamed dully in the candlelight, the only embellishment to his elegant, understated style. His dark, custom-tailored jacket and white shirt were as plain as they were expensive and provided the perfect setting for his lean frame and boyish good looks.

‘I take it that’s one of your masterly understatements,’ he said, picking up his champagne glass and toasting her silently before sipping the contents. Not for the first time Kalera basked in his wonderful manners. Whenever she was with Stephen she was made to feel like a lady, as well as a woman. Harry had been a lovely man and a good husband, but he had been a bit short on social graces. Romantic gestures were simply not his style.

She looked around the plush restaurant, enjoying the novelty of dining in sumptuous surroundings with an escort who provoked envious glances from other women. So far all their meetings and dates had, from necessity, been conducted in discreet, out-of-the-way places where neither of them rated a second glance but now they had finally gone public and Stephen said that he wanted to show her off in style. Now there was no longer a need for secrecy he intended to introduce her to the social whirl. He was proud of his future bride and wanted the world and all his friends to approve his good fortune.

He was already planning for them to host a lavish engagement party and Kalera hoped that she wouldn’t disgrace him with her inexperience. She and Harry had lived a very quiet life. Going out to the movies or a neighbourhood café or having a few couples around for a casual barbecue had been typical highlights of their social week whereas Stephen was used to a very different scene. She knew that his divorced first wife had a Fine Arts degree and a social pedigree a mile long, and had been renowned for her parties, and, although he had assured Kalera that he would never make comparisons, others in his circle were bound to judge her by Terri’s standards.

‘I suppose any man would become upset at the news that his secretary has become engaged to his bitterest rival,’ Stephen continued, the intent look in his brown eyes belying the casualness of his tone. ‘So how did he react?’

Thinking that he had been more than tolerant of her disinclination to talk about her traumatic day, Kalera sighed and put down her fork. At least she had managed to get through most of her meal before Stephen’s curiosity burst the bonds of his restraint.

‘You want chapter and verse?’

‘The highlights will do if anything more is going to compromise your honour,’ Stephen said with a rueful smile.

He was clearly dying to know every detail of the encounter, but was equally intent on sticking to the pact that they had made when they first met—no discussions about their work. Stephen’s ownership of InfoTech Systems put him in direct competition with Labyrinth and he had been labelled Private Enemy No.1 by Duncan Royal. Although Labyrinth currently held the edge, the fierce battle for a bigger slice of the booming New Zealand market in computerised office systems continued to rage between the two companies, fuelled by the owners’ personal animosity.

Initially wary of becoming involved with any man, let alone one who presented a potential conflict of interest, and seriously doubting that Stephen’s suggestion of mutual self-censorship would work, Kalera’s fears had soon been allayed. He was scrupulous about observing the unwritten rules of their relationship and they found plenty to talk about that didn’t involve projects or personnel at Labyrinth and InfoTech.

‘It was awful, wasn’t it?’ he groaned as Kalera hesitated, searching for a tactful way to describe the scene. ‘I know I should have insisted on being there when you told him—’

She shuddered at the thought. ‘That would only have made things worse. Anyway, you’re so much persona non grata at Labryinth that you wouldn’t have got through the front door. The security guards have your photo.’

‘Really? I didn’t know that.’

Kalera bit her lip at the slip and he quirked an understanding eyebrow. ‘Don’t worry, the same kind of precautionary measures apply at InfoTech, except we have Royal’s face pasted to our games-room dartboard. You can tell him if you like.’

She could just imagine how that tidbit of information would be received. It would merely prove to Duncan that she had lied when she said that she and Stephen never discussed any aspect of their work, let alone anything that would compromise professional ethics on either side. She felt a small spurt of annoyance at the amusement on her fiancé’s face. There was nothing funny about departing a job she loved with a cloud over her honour.

‘No, thanks, I’m in enough trouble as it is.’

He caught the edge in her voice and smoothly adjusted his expression to one of remorseful concern. ‘I’m sorry, darling; I know how difficult this has been for you.’ He frowned. ‘Are you saying he threatened you?’

He sounded so incredulous that Kalera’s bruised sense of humour was warmed back to life by his effort to soothe her wounded sensibilities.

‘We are talking about Duncan Royal,’ she pointed out with a dry chuckle. ‘Of course he threatened me.’

Stephen didn’t share the joke. ‘I mean physically. I know how terrifying he can be in one of his rages. When we were at school he used to have the most frightful fits—that was one reason he was never made a prefect in spite of his brilliant academic record—he was simply considered too unstable. And then at university—well, he had a reputation for creating mayhem wherever he went…’

‘I knew you were briefly in partnership with him a few years ago, but I didn’t realise that your acquaintanceship went right back to your childhood,’ said Kalera slowly, aware of a slight sense of unease as it suddenly occurred to her that in spite of the illusion of intimacy created by their secret courtship she still had an awful lot to learn about the man she had promised to marry—and vice versa.

‘We both had parents who were fixated on their sons attending the “right school” and since our fathers were Old Boys who had boarded together it was fairly inevitable that we ended up in the same college.’ Stephen shrugged dismissively. ‘He was an arrogant bastard right from the third form—probably would have been expelled several times over if his father hadn’t been a leading QC and a heavy donator to school funds. As a senior his temper even terrorised the teachers.’

‘I suppose I must have become desensitised to him over the years,’ Kalera murmured, thinking that her own family background had been the perfect training ground for coping with Duncan Royal’s lightning-bursts of emotion. ‘Even when he’s yelling blue murder and throwing furniture—like he was this morning—I’ve never actually been scared of him….’

Stephen leaned forward, his wheat-blond hair burnishing his frowning forehead. ‘What exactly was he yelling at you?’

Kalera’s mouth turned down at the corners. ‘You mean before or after he fired me?’

He looked suitably grave, but unsurprised. ‘I’m sorry, darling—I did warn you that was probably what would happen. But at least you don’t have to worry about being out of work. Even if he gets nasty and refuses you a reference, you know you can walk into a job at InfoTech tomorrow if you like—all you have to do is say the word…’

However fondly couched, ‘I told you so’ was still the most aggravating phrase in the English language, decided Kalera, her irritation tempered by the knowledge that Stephen wouldn’t be feeling quite so smug by the time she finished her story.

‘I did try to lead up to it delicately, but as soon as I mentioned your name he fired me on the spot,’ she admitted. ‘Then he called up Security and got two beefy guards to escort me out of the building. He wouldn’t even let me go back to my desk to get my things—’

Her mortification at her treatment was evident in her face as she remembered how it had felt to be marched off the premises like a common criminal.

Stephen’s eyes blazed with sympathy. ‘The bastard! But you’d already formally handed in your written resignation, right? You’re not going to let him get away with putting it around that you were fired—’