‘You’ll be dancing. I’ll pick you up at ten.’
‘Dancing?’ Polly stood up again and this time she virtually floated towards the door, her mind already occupied by what she was going to wear.
‘Oh and Polly—’ his deep sexy drawl stopped her as she reached the door ‘—about the baby you’re hiding in the office—’
Polly froze. ‘Baby?’ Her voice was a squeak. ‘Er—what baby?’
‘I don’t want to give Health and Safety a heart attack so you can tell Kim we’re looking into providing crèche facilities so that she can give the boot to that unreliable child-minder of hers.’
Polly clutched the door. ‘How do you know about Kim’s problem with the baby?’
‘He was in your offices the day I came in and fired the board.’
‘You knew the baby was in the office? And you didn’t say anything?’
‘There’s a limit to how much disaster a man can absorb in one session. I’m told Kim is excellent at what she does so I’m going to use her in my media department. She needs good childcare.’
Polly gaped at him. ‘Are you feeling all right?’
‘Never better. Why?’
‘Because you’re being worryingly reasonable. A couple of weeks ago you would have fired the lot of us for bringing a baby into the office.’
‘Kim is extremely productive and that to fire her would jeopardise the accounts you’ve won. On top of that, I know when I’m beaten.’
But he didn’t look beaten. He looked sleek and in control. Far more in control than she was. She was fast discovering that it was possible to feel terrified, elated and panicky all at the same time.
‘That’s—great. Thanks. We have quite a few mothers on the team and childcare is always a nightmare.’
‘So I understand. I’ll fix it. And while we’re at it you can stop giving Mr Foster lessons in spreadsheets. He’s going on a proper training course starting tomorrow. Now, go. And don’t buy my PA any more plants. The place is turning into a bloody jungle.’
‘It’s hard getting ready for an evening when you don’t know where you’re going.’ Polly kept her coat tucked round her as she slid into the back seat of his chauffeur-driven car. ‘What if I’m wearing the wrong thing?’ She was hyper-aware of him—of his arm stretched across the back of the seat and the proximity of his thigh to hers.
He eyed her coat with one eyebrow raised. ‘Take your coat off and I’ll tell you.’
‘I’m wearing the coat so that you can’t tell me I’m wearing the wrong thing. You have a habit of freaking out over my clothes choice so I decided it was safer not to show you until we arrive. I don’t want you to dent my confidence.’
‘Fine, but promise me you are wearing so
mething under the coat.’
‘Sort of.’
With a groan and a sexy smile, he leaned his head back against the seat. ‘I have a feeling I should have made you dinner in the apartment instead of taking you out in public.’ He hesitated a moment and then closed his hand over hers, his fingers warm and strong.
Suddenly her insides felt jittery. She wanted to ask what tonight was all about.
Her impression was that he was as rubbish at relationships as she was.
For two weeks she’d heard nothing from him. And she’d told herself that was a good thing.
‘I’m sorry that lead on my father and Arianna being in Paris turned out to be useless. She really is so lucky to have you.’ Polly curled her fingers around his. ‘That day at school—I really envied her.’
‘For having a brother who came and yelled at her?’
‘For having a brother who cared enough to come down to the school and tell her off.’
‘I had no idea she was being bullied. I didn’t ask the right questions. You have no idea how much I regret that now.’