In Bed With the Boss

And back in her room, there, indeed, were all the clothes purchased for her ‘makeover', as she’d left them five months ago, including the underwear she’d never used.

She flicked through the clothes hanging up—at least half of them she’d never worn—and hesitated over the least formal outfit, the one she and Margaret Winston had decided on for the river cruise Alex had never gone on.

Slim navy trousers with a sea-green blouse and matching espadrilles. Funnily enough, she reflected, it was the most colourful outfit of the lot and Margaret, she remembered, had insisted on it.

Was now the time to be thinking about clothes, though? she mused as she dressed with hands that were slightly unsteady. But she had no idea what was to come, did she?

Max was already in the kitchen when she came down and he’d opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses. There was also a tray of canapés on the kitchen table that Mrs Mills must have left for him. Tiny cucumber sandwiches, cheese straws, a little bowl of olives, vol-au-vents with savoury fillings, nuts and dried fruits.

He looked up as she came into the kitch

en. ‘We could go through to the den.’

‘Here is fine,’ she murmured and pulled out a chair.

He’d changed his jeans and shirt for grey sweat pants and a blue T-shirt. His feet were bare and his dark hair was tousled and damp.

He sat down opposite her and moved the glass bowl of daisies to one side. ‘I had an accident,’ he said, ‘about three months ago. It was one of those stupid, bizarre things. I fell off a ladder and ruptured a disc, amongst other things.’

Alex blinked at him. ‘That’s awful—but what were you doing up a ladder?’

He smiled with considerable irony. ‘I was playing cricket with Nicky. I hit a six that ended up in a gutter. Nemo—’ he grimaced ‘—charged round the corner just as I was about to come down. He bumped into the ladder and rocked it and I fell off.’

He sipped his wine and chose an olive. ‘Several operations followed, and some doubt that I’d get back to full mobility.’

‘Wasn’t—surely—why didn’t I read about it in the papers?’ she asked, wide-eyed.

‘I kept it as quiet as possible for business reasons. I was still fully functioning mentally for the most part and sometimes just the hint that whoever is supposed to be in charge is not all there can destabilize markets and cause all sorts of rumours and trauma.’

Alex was about to say, So that’s why Simon’s sister thought you were off the scene—but changed her mind.

‘I’m really sorry.’ She looked at him with patent concern. ‘But you can walk although you’re still in pain—is it just a matter of time for the pain to go too?’

‘So I’m told now. In six weeks I should be pain-free and back to normal.’

‘Well, that explains it. I knew there was something different about you. I could tell by your eyes you were under some sort of intense pressure. I actually thought it might be to do with Cathy Spencer.’

He sprawled back in his chair and watched her intently. ‘How so?’

Alex spread her hands, then sipped her wine, and wished heartily she hadn’t brought it up. She also remembered she never got away with not answering his questions.

She studied the canapés intently, then shook her head. ‘Uh … because you hadn’t been able to persuade her to marry you but you still loved her?’

The silence that followed as her words died away was almost complete. It had stopped raining but the gutters were still dripping; it was still grey and overcast outside although the storm had passed over.

‘I could have married her. It was what she wanted in the end, funnily enough.’

Alex spluttered on another sip of wine. ‘I—I don’t understand,’ she whispered.

‘Don’t you?’ He heaved a sudden sigh. ‘I can’t blame you. I didn’t understand myself until it was too late. But I discovered I couldn’t marry anyone—unless it was you.’

Alex went white with shock. And the sea-green blouse made her tawny hazel eyes look more green and darker against her pallor.

‘But—’ she licked her lips ‘—you went out of your way to distance yourself. You made sure there could be no delusions for me. You—’

‘Alex,’ he intervened, ‘I convinced myself I wasn’t for you. I did know that it would have been all too easy to drown my sorrows, my burdens in you—’ He broke off and shook his head.

Her lips formed a perfect O.