perfect sexy intonation.
âConsidering the amount of time youâve spent behind a desk, Benedict, I was quite surprised.â
Rachel was immediately conscious, despite the casual tone, of the tension in the air between father and son. Aware thathis absence yesterday had been on her account, she hoped this wasnât responsible for the friction.
âHave you, or any clients, got any complaints about my work?â Benedict already knew the answer. His father was no sentimentalist.
He had never made any secret of the fact that he wanted one of his sons to carry on the family tradition of heading the prestigious law firm which had been founded by their great-grandfather, but it had been shrewd judgement rather than nepotism that explained Benedictâs presence.
He was here because he was the best of his yearâs crop of law graduates and this firm always wanted the best. Heâd refused offers from rival law chambers and his father knew it, although he never referred to the fact.
âYouâd know if I had,â Stuart Arden confirmed. âI was talking to your father last night, Sabrina; he was telling me youâve graduated with flying colours from your cordon bleu course.â
âI was going to practise my skills on Benedict.â She glanced upwards through her heavily mascaraed lashes at him.
I just bet you were, Rachel thought with a fresh spurt of self-disgust. What am I doing? I donât want any part in this tacky scenario. Iâm not going to compete for a manâs attentions like this; itâs so demeaning.
âOnly he stood me up,â Sabrina continued with a sigh. She tapped his hand playfully. âI was devastated. Did Daddy tell you heâs going to set me up in my own little catering firm?â
âWell, if we can put any work your wayâ¦â
That was how it worked, Rachel thought, when you knew the right peopleâso simple. This was Benedictâs world, not hers; the gap between them had never been more apparent. Her hands were clammy as she struck the keyboard and tried to pretend she wasnât listening to every word. To the SirStuarts and Sabrinas of this world secretaries were just part of the furniture. They probably hadnât even noticed she was there. However, the next words blew a big hole in this theory.
âYouâre not Maggie.â
âPardon?â She didnât immediately realise that this remark was addressed to her. âNo, Iâm not.â The great man stood waiting expectantly and she knew she was looking more and more foolish with each passing second, but her vocal cords had seized up.
âI thought you arranged the temporary transfer, Father.â Benedict came unexpectedly to her rescue.
âDid I? I do a lot of things around this place.â
âAnd with your failing faculties you canât be expected to recall them all,â Benedict observed in an understanding manner.
âYouâre such a tease,â Sabrina remonstrated. âI wish half the so-called young men I know had half Sir Stuartâs energy and dynamism.â
Rachel had never understood why intelligent men who had given up reading fairy tales years ago fell for such blatant flattery. It works every time, she thought, watching the distinguished-looking peer try to hide his pleasure. He puffed out his not insubstantial chest.
âI only popped in to invite you out to lunch. You will come, wonât you, darling Ben?â
That endearment had the same effect on Rachelâs nerve-endings as a dentistâs drill. She clenched her teeth and bent blindly over her desk, giving a passable imitation of intense concentration.
âSorry, but Iâll have to take a rain-check, Sabrina. Iâve got something else on.â
âAnyone I know?â she enquired archly, and the Cupidâs bow mouth tightened noticeably.
âLet me walk you out.â
âIâll wait for you in the office,
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