Seduced By The Boss

‘Jake Haddon,’ she questioned slowly, speaking each word with extreme care, just in case she had misheard him, ‘is actually going to be at your mother’s house?’

‘That’s right.’

Megan frowned. In her world, famous actors didn’t just happen to stay with your parents. ‘Is he a friend of yours?’ she asked suspiciously.

‘Yes, he is.’ He saw the disbelieving look in her eyes and felt obliged to elaborate. ‘He grew up locally. We went to the same village school for a while, before he moved away. But we always kept in touch.’

What sort of world did he inhabit, she wondered, if he was mixing with people of that calibre and had never let on about it? Why, if Jake Haddon were her friend, she’d have his posters plastered all over the office walls!

As Dan spoke, he watched the excitement working Megan’s face—an excitement she was unsuccessfully trying to suppress. And he wondered why he should feel an odd twinge of disappointment that she should be so transparent.

Had he imagined that she would differ from other women, by not being attracted to a man because of who he was, rather than what he was? When would he ever learn? His mouth turned down at the corners. ‘So. Changed your mind about coming?’

Megan knew that she shouldn’t be swayed by a famous name. And instinctively—for whatever reason—she suspected that part of Dan wanted her to say no.

Say no? She would have to be locked up first! She very nearly leapt up and down with excitement. Just wait until she told her brothers about this! ‘I certainly have!’

‘So you’ll come?’

‘Yes, please!’

‘Oh, the hypnotic lure of celebrity,’ he murmured drily.

‘It’ll be something to tell my grandchildren!’ she defended.

‘Just make sure they’re not Jake’s grandchildren, too,’ he warned. He saw the confused look on her face grow into one of indignation as she worked out what he meant by that remark. ‘He has, er, something of a reputation with women,’ he added quickly. ‘As I am sure you can imagine.’

She wasn’t surprised. Looking the way Jake Haddon did, he probably had to surround himself with an army of minders! Still, actors who were constantly being offered big bucks by Hollywood did not tend to run after unsophisticated assistants who’d grown up on a pig-farm!

Megan leaned back in her chair and curved her mouth into a wide smile. ‘So. A heartthrob actor and a man who is being emotionally stalked by a woman he can’t bear to hurt.’ She let out a sigh of anticipation. ‘This looks like being one hell of a weekend!’

CHAPTER THREE

MEGAN felt quite light-headed as she pulled on her motorcycle helmet after work. The summer evening was still and heavy, and there was a sense of unreality nagging away at her, as if she couldn’t quite believe that she’d just agreed to go away with Dan McKnight and pretend to be his loving partner!

She climbed onto the scooter which her father and brothers had clubbed together to buy for her twenty-first birthday, as a thank-you for all she’d done for them. Its top speed wasn’t much faster than some of the runners she passed as they jogged along the pavements—but it was an easy way to get home at the end of a long day.

Home was half a small house which she shared with another girl, close to the Softshare building and just half an hour’s train journey away from Central London.

When Megan had left her father’s farm, she’d planned to go into the capital itself—but the exorbitant price of renting and the mad, busy pace of life had put her off. It had seemed too big and too noisy after the peace of the countryside she had grown up in.

At first, she’d rented a microscopically small bedsit—but then she’d started going out with David and was rarely at home, so size hadn’t seemed to matter. And when they’d split up, she’d decided that she needed company. As a parting gesture, David had offered to buy her a cat, but Megan had declined the offer and found herself a housemate instead!

The house was tucked away in a road which ran parallel to the main street. There were trees along one side, and when the shops were closed it was quiet—but parking was nearly always a nightmare, and Megan thanked her lucky stars that her little scooter was so easy to park!

And this place had been a terrific compromise, she reasoned, letting herself in the front door. Green enough to almost imagine that you were in the country, yet close enough to London to feel that your finger was still on the pulse.

‘Hel-lo!’ she called as she rifled through the post lying on the hall table, and found only a letter of the ‘we are sure this is merely an oversight’ variety, asking her to settle up the interest on her in-store account. Maybe her accountant brother was right. Maybe she just shouldn’t have an in-store account!

‘I’m out here!’ shouted a voice. ‘In the kitchen!’

The kitchen was scruffy, but at least it had French doors looking out onto the tiny garden, which in the summer was a glorious sun-trap. Megan had laboriously grown packets of seeds on the kitchen window-sill, and now they were planted proudly in their pots outside—blazing with colour and heavy with scent. A heavy-headed sunflower strained its giant yellow petals towards the sky and cute little black-eyed Susans winked at her provocatively.

Helen was standing by the fridge, hulling strawberries which she was piling into a scarlet pyramid on a glass dish. She was a pretty, bubbly girl who worked as a flight attendant for one of the major airlines, so she had lots of stopovers in places like Paris and Madrid and Rome, which she insisted weren’t glamorous—but which sounded it to Megan! She was currently unattached, even though she always seemed to have hundreds of admirers—but she told Megan she was holding out for the ‘real thing’.

Helen looked up as Megan walked in and stopped chopping once she saw the expression on her housemate’s face. ‘What’s up?’ she demanded. ‘Has something happened?’

‘Well, kind of.’ Megan paused for effect as she anticipated the impact that her next words would have. ‘What would you say if I told you that I was going to spend the weekend in the company of the actor Jake Haddon?’

The knife only narrowly missed Helen’s thumb. She put it down on the work surface carefully. ‘I’d say that you had either been hit on the head or had started dating someone who just happened to share their name with the hunky actor we all know and love!’

Megan picked up half a strawberry and popped it into her mouth. ‘Well, you’d be wrong. Because Jake Haddon—the Jake Haddon—is actually going to be there.’

Helen stared at her in genuine confusion. ‘Where?’

‘It’s a bit of an odd story.’

‘You don’t say?’ Helen picked the kettle up. ‘Tell me all about it while I make some tea.’

Fifteen minutes later, the cooling kettle was left forgotten on the work surface and Helen stared at Megan, her eyes as wide as dinner-plates.

‘You’re sure this isn’t some ploy by your new boss to have his wicked way with you?’

Megan nearly choked on the second-to-last strawberry. ‘Have you seen him?’

‘No. Why? Is he vile?’

Megan shook her head, and almost laughed. ‘No, he’s not vile. He’s just…’

Helen stood waiting expectantly. ‘Just what?’

Megan shrugged. ‘Nothing. It just wouldn’t happen,’ she said firmly. ‘I’m not interested in him, and he’s certainly not interested in me. He even told me so!’

‘Really?’ Helen nodded. ‘That’s why he’s taking you away and having you pretend to be in love with him, is it?’

‘It isn’t like that!’

‘Hmm. Maybe. I know men—’

‘And so do I!’ Megan protested. ‘I grew up in a house full of them, remember?’

‘Yes, and they were your devoted and very protective brothers and father. Not men with an eye for the main chance.’ Helen gave her a speculative look. ‘What on earth are you going to wear? And isn’t he going to get a shock when he sees you out of your habitual trousers?’

‘Probably—especially when he notices my skinny knees!’

‘How many times do I have to keep telling you there’s nothing wrong with skinny knees? Most women yearn for them! Models have them! And you still haven’t answered the question about what to wear. Lets face it, Megan, your wardrobe isn’t exactly full to overflowing with any kind of clothes—let alone suitable clothes for what sounds like a very fancy weekend in the country.’

‘No, I know it isn’t.’ Megan gave her a slightly embarrassed smile. ‘Um, shall I make us that cup of tea now?’

Helen burst out laughing. ‘You mean, you want to borrow some clothes?’

‘Well, we are about the same size. Would you mind?’

‘Mind? I’ve been dying to see what you’d look like in something really funky for ages now. Come on—what are you waiting for?’

Minutes later, Megan stood in front of a full-length mirror looking over her shoulder at a bottom which seemed far from perfect when it was covered in tight buttercup-yellow satin.

‘Helen, I can’t wear these!’ she said flatly.

‘Of course you can! They’re very young and very now—and satin is the new denim, didn’t you know?’ Helen stepped back admiringly. ‘I must say, they make a wild pair of jeans!’

‘Wild,’ echoed Megan weakly. ‘I just don’t know if it’s going to be that sort of weekend.’

‘Didn’t you ask him?’

‘Of course I asked him!’

‘And what did he say about it—this Dan McKnight?’

‘Just that his mother would be there—’

‘His mother?’

‘That’s right. And his brother—’

‘Oh, wow! Sounds like a fun time,’ observed Helen wryly. Megan ignored that. ‘He said we’d get down there in time for dinner on the Friday and travel back after lunch on Sunday. He said that Friday-night dinner was smartish but that they tended to dress up for dinner on Saturday. And that everything else was pretty relaxed.’

‘And nothing else?’

‘Not really. Just the bit about the girl who thinks she’s in love with him. And about Jake Haddon being there, too.’

‘Well, then! Actors! You can’t turn up wearing a pair of those drab old trousers you usually wear, can you? He’ll expect you to look bright. Colourful. Different.’

‘Do you really think so?’

‘Listen,’ smiled Helen, ‘I know so. Now take this sequinned boob-tube and go and try it on with these pedal-pushers!’

Megan looked down at the garments Helen had thrust into her hands, and frowned. ‘Listen, I know I’m not the world’s greatest fashion queen—’

‘Agreed!’

‘But even I know that pink doesn’t really go with green—’

‘Doesn’t go with it? Darling, they were made for each other! Clashing colours are big news this season.’

‘Honestly?’

‘Trust me on this one, Megan.’

In the end, Megan gave up trying to convince Helen that, while she was dying to meet the actor, she certainly wasn’t entertaining any false expectations about him falling for her.

‘He wouldn’t look twice at someone like me!’ she declared stoutly.

‘No,’ agreed Helen thoughtfully. ‘He most probably wouldn’t. Not at the moment, anyway…’ And she began to advance on her housemate carrying a mascara wand like a dangerous weapon.

‘What are you doing?’ asked Megan, in alarm.

‘Seeing what you look like with a bit of slap on your face!’

Soon Megan’s bed was covered with a selection of brightly coloured clothes and the face which stared back at her from the mirror was unrecognisable.

Her green-gold eyes looked three times their usual size and her skin looked as softly glowing as if she had just returned from a Mediterranean cruise. Her lips were all kind of tremulous and pouting with that carefully applied pink shiny stuff gleaming back at her. And even her mousy-brown hair looked interesting after Helen had attacked it with a hairdryer.

But Megan wasn’t sure that she liked this sleek, polished stranger who stared back at her from the mirror, and started wiping off the bronze blusher which she privately thought made her look as if she’d overdone the sunbed.

She was just throwing a used piece of cotton wool into the bin when the pile of clothes caught her eye, and she frowned. What if they’d judged it all wrong? Shouldn’t she take her one, plain, all-purpose ‘good’ black dress? Just in case. If the worst came to the worst, she could dress it down for Friday, and tart it up for Saturday.

Feeling a little like a conspirator, she stuffed it into the bottom of her suitcase—where Helen couldn’t see it.

Back in the office, Megan found herself looking at Dan in a whole new way. It was difficult not to. Here was a man who could inspire obsessional devotion from young women and who mixed with Oscar-nominated actors! She tried to be objective. Was he a hunk or not?

She supposed that he really did have an amazing bone-structure, when you looked closely. And pretty amazing eyes, too. But she soon forced herself to break the habit of staring and trying to analyse his appeal. What if he caught her doing it and thought that she was nurturing a soft spot for him? She had been expressly invited because she was the type of woman who wouldn’t fall in love with him for real!

That week he had business in Spain and Holland, and came back the day before they were due to leave. Megan had spent most of the morning fixing up the quarterly review meeting and had looked up to find his grey eyes studying her intently, in a way she’d never noticed him doing before. It was an odd kind of sensation and for a moment she felt extremely flustered.

‘Is something wrong?’ she asked. He was probably having second thoughts—deciding that it had all been a mad, crazy idea, and that he didn’t want to take her away with him after all.

She would never meet his mother and brother or get to know Jake Haddon.

And she was unprepared for the jolt of disappointment she experienced.

‘Wrong?’ He looked mildly surprised. ‘Why should there be?’

‘You were staring.’

‘Was I?’

‘You know you were.’

There was a pause.

‘So I was,’ he agreed softly. ‘Is that such a crime?’

‘Of course not,’ said Megan stiffly, trying not to feel self-conscious in her pale grey cotton trousers and the darker grey T-shirt.

‘Clearly it is,’ he contradicted silkily, and there was a question in his eyes she couldn’t ignore.

‘I don’t dress to be stared at,’ she said defensively. ‘Particularly not when I’m working.’

‘No, I can see that,’ he agreed, thinking that she wouldn’t have looked out of place as a guard in a large institution, wearing that dreary outfit. Her top was so loose she might almost have been in the early stages of pregnancy! ‘Still—it’s refreshing to meet a woman who has such little vanity,’ he smiled.

Megan frowned. Somehow she didn’t like the sound of that.

He saw the lines which pleated her smooth, pale forehead and thought he’d better get in a bit of practice at making polite conversation. ‘So. Are you looking forward to the weekend?’

‘I’m not sure,’ she admitted.

Actually, she’d been besieged with doubts. Lying awake at night staring at the ceiling and practising what on earth she would say to Jake Haddon when she met him. Which was only slightly less nerve-racking than imagining what she was going to say to Dan’s mother!

‘I’m just a bit nervous about having to keep making up stories. I hate lying, that’s all. What have you told your family?’

‘I spoke to my brother and told him that I’m bringing a girl home.’

‘And that’s all?’

‘Believe me, that was enough.’ His smile was cool as he remembered his brother’s surprised silence down the telephone. ‘The very fact that I’m bringing someone to a family party will be enough to convince them that it’s serious enough to set alarm bells ringing.’

‘Alarm bells?’ she asked him curiously. ‘Why should it do that? Don’t they want you to settle down and get married?’

‘I don’t know—I’ve never asked them.’

Megan frowned. ‘Must you be so evasive all the time?’

‘Am I?’ Dan frowned, too. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, really—you’re about as forthcoming as a rock!’

‘We’ve never discussed marriage,’ he answered eventually, realising as he said it that he and his family had never discussed anything much at all. It wasn’t their way. ‘I suppose the unspoken fact is that when I do…’

‘Yes?’ quizzed Megan eagerly.

‘It’ll be someone from the same background, I guess.’

She didn’t like to ask what that background was—but she was slowly getting a good idea!

‘How rigid!’ she observed.

‘Not really,’ he shrugged, and crumpled a ball of paper in his fist. ‘Just stop and think about it. Marriage can be such a lottery. At least if you have similar backgrounds and interests, you stand a better chance of surviving.’

‘You make it sound like a trip to the North Pole!’ declared Megan indignantly. ‘Marriage is supposed to be based on love!’

He smiled. ‘I would hate to destroy your youthful idealism, Megan.’

‘Whereas I would love to destroy your world-weary cynicism!’

He laughed, thinking that maybe this weekend wasn’t going to be as bad as he had anticipated, until he drew himself up short.

This wasn’t a date! he reminded himself sternly.

Megan took a call from their Rome office and put it through to him, and when the call was finished she plucked up courage to ask the question which had been depriving her of more sleep than any other. ‘Er, Dan?’

He lifted his head. ‘What?’

It wasn’t the easiest thing to put into words, particularly when he was looking at her with that barely feigned impatience. ‘It’s a bit of a thorny subject—’

‘I’m listening.’

‘And it’s probably only because I’m a farmer’s daughter and don’t feel shy to talk about one of the most basic—’

‘Get to the point, will you, Megan?’ he sighed.

She stared at him defiantly. ‘It’s about the sex thing.’

Dan blinked in astonishment and, as she spoke, the most extraordinary thing happened. He started to feel extremely…He shook his head in disbelief. Then shook it again—this time in astonishment. Surely the pale and colourless Ms Phillips hadn’t managed to produce a sudden sweet flood of desire?

He shifted uncomfortably, pleased that he was safely hidden behind his desk so she couldn’t see him. Imagine how embarrassing that would have been!

For both of them.

‘Which particular aspect of the “sex thing” did you have in mind, exactly?’ He swallowed.

‘Well, it’s just that if I’m supposed to be in love with you—’

‘Yes?’

‘And you with me…’

He looked at her as she let her sentence tail off, and he could feel his pulse begin to quicken again with another unexpected and completely unwanted challenge. ‘Yes?’ he said again, only this time he didn’t bother to conceal his impatience.

‘People will expect us—’

‘To be having sex?’ he put in brutally. ‘No doubt they will, Megan—but that doesn’t mean that they’ll expect to witness it! Or do you think they’ll be trooping through the house, expecting to see us locked together in the throes of passion? Much more interesting than looking at the paintings, wouldn’t you say?’

Her throat constricted as her mind made pictures of his words. ‘Is there really any need to be quite so…?’

Their eyes met. ‘So?’

‘Graphic?’

‘Well, you were the one who started it! You’re the farmer’s daughter who claims to be unembarrassed by basic acts of nature, remember?’ He smiled. ‘Megan, stop worrying. We probably won’t even be sleeping in the same part of the house.’

Megan blinked. ‘Just how big is your house?’

‘My mother is a stickler for convention,’ he explained, as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘And, as far as she is concerned, unmarried couples just don’t sleep together. Even my brother and his fiancée will have separate rooms. What they get up to in the dead of night is up to them!’

‘And don’t you mind?’

‘Why should I mind? I don’t visit that often—and I’m not so addicted to sex that I can’t go without it for a night or two.’

Megan quickly found something very interesting to look at on the notepad in front of her.

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