see him now. How are you?’
‘I’m fine, thank you. I apologize for falling asleep on your settee, yet again,’ she said ruefully. ‘But I don’t quite know how we’re going to handle this.’
He took in her tied-back hair and the delicate blue shadows beneath her eyes, then he looked away abruptly and squared his shoulders. But all he said was, ‘Let’s go and see him.’
‘Just a moment—have you had chicken pox?’
That brought him up short. He narrowed his eyes. ‘If I did, I can’t remember it.’
‘Is there any way of checking up? Your mother, maybe? Although, if you haven’t had it you are most likely going to get it now, but at least you’ll be forewarned.’
Max Goodwin folded his arms and looked down at her somewhat grimly. ‘Have you got any more good news for me, Miss Hill?’
Alex chuckled. ‘I’m sorry, but it is better to be prepared.’
‘As they say in the Boy Scouts.’ He pulled his mobile out of his shirt pocket. ‘My sister Olivia will know—my mother passed away last year.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Thank you—Livvy, Max,’ he said into the phone. ‘Did I have chicken pox as a kid?’
He ended the call a few minutes later. ‘You’ll be glad to know, well, I’m certainly glad to know, that I did have them. We had them at the same time actually, but, whereas my sister Olivia was a model patient, I was a shocker. Same old story.’ He looked at her expressionlessly except for the wicked little glint in his eyes. ‘It’s amazing I didn’t grow up with some serious complexes brought on by my saintly sister.’
‘Maybe you did. Maybe,’ Alex said gravely, ‘your desire to get your own way is an inverse reaction to a subliminal inferiority complex bestowed on you by your sibling?’
He put his head to one side. ‘Say that again?’
‘I couldn’t,’ she confessed with a grin. ‘It just rolled off my tongue. Well—’
‘What about you?’ he broke in to query. ‘Have you had chicken pox?’
‘Yes.’
He relaxed.
‘Actually I was a model patient too—maybe it’s just girls?’ she added.
‘Maybe. They certainly know how to dent your ego. After you, Miss Hill.’
‘Thank you, Mr Goodwin.’ She led the way to the stairs.
Nicky perked up a bit at the sight of his father.
An hour later Alex joined Max in his study at his request.
Nicky was dozing and the doctor had confirmed the diagnosis.
The study was a mini oval office with tall windows overlooking the water. The oak desk was highly polished, and the wooden-framed chairs were upholstered in a striped fabric, amber on aubergine. The rug was a handmade silk Persian from Isfahan—Mrs Mills had taken her on a tour of the house and pointed out many of the treasures it contained.
‘Sit down, Alex. I’ve pulled out of the golf, which—’ he smiled a lightning smile at her ‘—as you know I wasn’t that keen on anyway. I’ve also found a replacement for you so far as interpreting goes for the rest of the negotiations.’
Alex’s eyes widened. ‘For all the other functions too?’
He nodded.
‘Simon will kill me!’ She looked bewildered and even more anxious as she stopped.
‘Simon?’ he queried with his eyebrows raised.
‘Simon Wellford of the agency I work for. My boss, in other words. He was over the moon about getting this assignment because he thought it could lead to a lot more work.’
‘It can. It will,’ Max said decisively. ‘And it could have happened anyway—it was always written into the contract he signed that you were a temporary replacement. It so happens the interpreter who got sick, whose place you took, has got better a lot sooner than was anticipated. He’s ready to come back to work. But, listen, I’ve got a proposition to make. Come and work for me, Alex.’
CHAPTER SIX
‘AS A nanny?’ Alex stared at Max, totally bemused.
‘As my PA, which may—’ he looked humorous ‘—cover mainly child-minding duties over the near future, but from then on
‘I’m fine, thank you. I apologize for falling asleep on your settee, yet again,’ she said ruefully. ‘But I don’t quite know how we’re going to handle this.’
He took in her tied-back hair and the delicate blue shadows beneath her eyes, then he looked away abruptly and squared his shoulders. But all he said was, ‘Let’s go and see him.’
‘Just a moment—have you had chicken pox?’
That brought him up short. He narrowed his eyes. ‘If I did, I can’t remember it.’
‘Is there any way of checking up? Your mother, maybe? Although, if you haven’t had it you are most likely going to get it now, but at least you’ll be forewarned.’
Max Goodwin folded his arms and looked down at her somewhat grimly. ‘Have you got any more good news for me, Miss Hill?’
Alex chuckled. ‘I’m sorry, but it is better to be prepared.’
‘As they say in the Boy Scouts.’ He pulled his mobile out of his shirt pocket. ‘My sister Olivia will know—my mother passed away last year.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Thank you—Livvy, Max,’ he said into the phone. ‘Did I have chicken pox as a kid?’
He ended the call a few minutes later. ‘You’ll be glad to know, well, I’m certainly glad to know, that I did have them. We had them at the same time actually, but, whereas my sister Olivia was a model patient, I was a shocker. Same old story.’ He looked at her expressionlessly except for the wicked little glint in his eyes. ‘It’s amazing I didn’t grow up with some serious complexes brought on by my saintly sister.’
‘Maybe you did. Maybe,’ Alex said gravely, ‘your desire to get your own way is an inverse reaction to a subliminal inferiority complex bestowed on you by your sibling?’
He put his head to one side. ‘Say that again?’
‘I couldn’t,’ she confessed with a grin. ‘It just rolled off my tongue. Well—’
‘What about you?’ he broke in to query. ‘Have you had chicken pox?’
‘Yes.’
He relaxed.
‘Actually I was a model patient too—maybe it’s just girls?’ she added.
‘Maybe. They certainly know how to dent your ego. After you, Miss Hill.’
‘Thank you, Mr Goodwin.’ She led the way to the stairs.
Nicky perked up a bit at the sight of his father.
An hour later Alex joined Max in his study at his request.
Nicky was dozing and the doctor had confirmed the diagnosis.
The study was a mini oval office with tall windows overlooking the water. The oak desk was highly polished, and the wooden-framed chairs were upholstered in a striped fabric, amber on aubergine. The rug was a handmade silk Persian from Isfahan—Mrs Mills had taken her on a tour of the house and pointed out many of the treasures it contained.
‘Sit down, Alex. I’ve pulled out of the golf, which—’ he smiled a lightning smile at her ‘—as you know I wasn’t that keen on anyway. I’ve also found a replacement for you so far as interpreting goes for the rest of the negotiations.’
Alex’s eyes widened. ‘For all the other functions too?’
He nodded.
‘Simon will kill me!’ She looked bewildered and even more anxious as she stopped.
‘Simon?’ he queried with his eyebrows raised.
‘Simon Wellford of the agency I work for. My boss, in other words. He was over the moon about getting this assignment because he thought it could lead to a lot more work.’
‘It can. It will,’ Max said decisively. ‘And it could have happened anyway—it was always written into the contract he signed that you were a temporary replacement. It so happens the interpreter who got sick, whose place you took, has got better a lot sooner than was anticipated. He’s ready to come back to work. But, listen, I’ve got a proposition to make. Come and work for me, Alex.’
CHAPTER SIX
‘AS A nanny?’ Alex stared at Max, totally bemused.
‘As my PA, which may—’ he looked humorous ‘—cover mainly child-minding duties over the near future, but from then on
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