The Billionaire's Ruthless Affair

But those business ties had apparently been wound up and he was back in Sydney permanently. Harriet might have felt pleased if she hadn’t been in a state of apprehension at the time. That apprehension had now reached such a level that it was interfering with her sleep. So Harriet had resolved last night to bite the bullet and tell Alex the truth this morning. Which would have happened already if he’d been here when she’d arrived, she thought with a flash of irritation. All of a sudden, his being late didn’t seem quite so desirable, the delay in confessing twisting her stomach into more knots.

Sighing at the sight of Alex’s empty office, she headed straight for the staff room, where she filled the kettle in readiness for the mug of black coffee Alex always wanted first thing on arriving. He’d probably send her out for a bagel, too. That man was a bagel addict! Maybe she’d leave off telling him her news till he’d downed his coffee and bagel. Alex wasn’t at his best till he’d eaten. The kettle on, she opened the overhead cupboard and took down one of the small tins of quite expensive cat food she kept there. The snapping sound of the ring pull had a rather large moggy dashing into the room, purring his welcome as he wound his way around Harriet’s ankles.

‘Hungry, Romany?’ Harriet said, quickly scraping the food out onto a saucer and putting it down on the floor. The cat pounced, gobbling up the food like he was starving.

‘You spoil that cat.’

Harriet whirled at the sound of Alex’s voice, surprised that she hadn’t heard him come in. He looked impossibly handsome as usual, dressed in a dark blue business suit which deepened the blue of his eyes and contrasted nicely with the fair hair. His shirt was a dazzling white, his tie a stylish blue-and-silver stripe.

‘You ought to talk,’ Harriet said, thinking of all her boss had done for Romany. ‘Might I remind you that you were the one who insisted on buying all the top-of-the-line cat accessories.’

‘Had to do something to stop my PA from crying her eyes out.’

‘I wasn’t doing any such thing.’

‘You were close to,’ he reminded her.

I suppose I was, she thought as she picked up the plate, washed it thoroughly and put it away, not wanting any of the staff to start complaining about the smell of fishy cat food. Not that they would. They all loved Romany. Unlike Dwayne. He hadn’t loved Romany at all; had complained like mad when Harriet had brought the poor starving animal home a couple of months ago after she’d found him cowering and crying under her car one Saturday night. He’d insisted she take it to the RSPCA the very next day, which she had, hopeful that they would find him a good home.

Impossible, they’d said. No one would want a seriously old cat like Romany. Unable to bear leaving him there to be put down, in desperation she’d taken him to work on the Monday, where she’d asked if anyone would give him a home. When no one had put their hand up, Alex had said he could be the office cat. Always a man of action, he’d immediately had a cat flap installed in the store room, then had taken Harriet out to buy whatever was necessary to keep the cat happy and clean. The cleaners had been informed of Romany’s presence so that precautions could be taken for him not to escape.

Harriet recalled feeling overwhelmed by Alex’s generosity and kindness at the time whilst seething with resentment over Dwayne’s meanness. As she bent and scooped the cat up in her arms, she realised that the incident with Romany had been the beginning of the end of their relationship. Being an animal lover was, after all, one of her checklist points. After that, she’d begun to look at Dwayne with different eyes. The rose-coloured glasses that came with falling in love had definitely come off. His constant refusal to give any money to charity was a sore point. So was his not doing his share of housework around the flat. When she’d complained to Emily about this, she’d just laughed, saying Harry expected way too much from men.

‘They expect their women to look after them,’ her best friend had told her. ‘It’s in their DNA. They’re the protectors and providers, whilst their women are the homemakers and nurturers.’

Harriet hadn’t agreed with Emily, hoping the world had moved on from expecting women to be happy with such narrow roles in life. No way was she going to settle for less than what she wanted in life, which was an interesting career, as well as a husband who ticked all of the boxes on her Mister Right checklist. Dwayne had certainly ticked the first three, but had begun seriously falling down on the rest. His suggestion a month ago that she buy her wedding dress second-hand on the Internet had been the last straw!