Fire Beneath the Ice

"Your husband," he said patiently, his face expressionless.

"Perhaps he would object to you working late or having to take off at short notice for a couple of days? It is not unusual for me to have to visit my subsidiaries at an hour's notice and, as I have branches in Scotland, Wales,

Manchester and Ireland, it often necessitates an overnight stay. Some husbands would find this unacceptable."

Now was the moment to tell him. She stared across the desk into the austere face opposite her, but images of pink frilly curtains and flowery bedspreads and Hannah's little face came between. If she told him she was a widow, she would be out of the door before she could say Jack Robinson, she thought frantically. He would think she was available, or at least that she thought he was available, she corrected mentally. And she knew that he was the last person on this earth she could harbour any romantic inclinations for, so where was the harm in a little unspoken deceit? And she wouldn't actually lie, not really. And she needed that money, desperately. The mortgage had been paid off after Matthew's death but the old, draughty terraced house ate gas and electricity, and the last three years had been an uphill struggle to survive on what she could earn. If her mother, herself a widow, hadn't insisted on helping out as unpaid child-minder, financial waters would have closed over her head more than once. "Mrs. Worth?" Now the hard, deep voice was clearly impatient.

"Would your husband find unsocial hours unacceptable?" he asked tightly.

"No." She raised her head and stared him straight in the eye.

"No, he wouldn't," she answered firmly.

"Good." He settled back on the corner of the desk where he was perched, looking down at her.

"Then perhaps this might be the time for a short test of your skills. You do shorthand as well as audiotyping?"

"Yes." She slipped a hand down to her bag and brought out notebook and pencil.

"When you're ready."

Half an hour later, as she presented a neatly typed, well-set out report in front of him, he glanced up from his desk, his eyes narrowed.

"Sit down, Mrs. Worth." He flicked through the pages quickly and nodded slowly. "Excellent. The job is yours if you want it."

"I..." Did she want it? She glanced down at his lowered head, noticing the gleam of red in his black hair-- virile, thick, strong hair. Her stomach muscles clenched in an involuntary spasm she was at a loss to understand.

No, she was suddenly quite sure she didn't want the job if it entailed being close to this man for a few hours every day, but she did want the money, No, not want, need.

"Well?" The icy blue gaze was suddenly fixed on her _flushed face and she took a deep silent breath as she struggled for composure.

"Thank you, Mr. Strade," she said levelly.

"I would like the job, please."

"Good." His eyes lowered to the papers on his desk that he had been studying when she had entered the room from the secretary's office just beyond.

"Go and get yourself a cup of coffee and a sandwich and make any phone calls you mink necessary; you'll be working late tonight. I've a hell of a lot of work to catch up on."

He hadn't asked if she had any children, she thought bemusedly as she left the room. Hadn't it occurred to him?

She had just reached the desk in the outer office when the buzzer on the intercom sounded stridently, making her jump a mile.

"Yes?" As she flicked the switch she was annoyed to find her voice 'a little breathless.

"I forgot to ask." His voice- was uncompromisingly severe.

"Are there any little Worths?" She knew what he wanted her answer to be, and it would be easy to lie, but somehow she couldn't deny Hannah's presence in her life, even if it meant losing this golden opportunity for the pair of them to get on their feet.

"Yes." She kept her voice steady and clear.

"I have a daughter aged three, Mr. Strade."

"Oh." She could tell he had expected a denial.

"You have an understanding child-minder?" he asked coolly.

"Hannah is looked after by my mother when I'm at work, and she is very flexible. The hours will be no problem." She could feel her heart thudding as she waited for his reply. Suddenly the amount of money he was offering was desperately important.