He stood up. ‘Go and have some now,’ he ordered briskly.
‘There’s really no need—–’
‘There’s every need, Miss Jamieson,’ he told her coldly. ‘Lack of food is apt to lower your resistance to infection. The last thing James needs is to have no secretary at all.’
That put her firmly in her place—even an incompetent secretary was better than none at all! ‘I’ll go now,’ she said jerkily. ‘If you’ll just explain to Mr Courtney …’
He nodded curtly and moved impatiently to the door that connected her office to James Courtney’s. ‘I’ll do that,’ he told her abruptly.
She grabbed her handbag and almost ran out of the office, having once again found Gideon Maitland completely overwhelming.
Her hand trembled as she sat alone in the canteen drinking her coffee. There had been a coldness about him, a bitter twist to his beautiful mouth. And no wonder, he probably still missed his wife very much.
And Petra Wilde? Well, he was a man, she shrugged, and men had—appetites, especially if they had been married. Her cheeks coloured delicately as she realised her thoughts had taken her to Gideon Maitland’s bed. A shiver of delight ran down her spine as she imagined those strong, sensitive hands making love to her.
Heavens, she was acting like an infatuated adolescent, fantasising about the latest pop or film-star! But it was more than that, she knew it was. She felt so attracted to him, so aware of him, as if she had always been waiting for such a man. A pity he hadn’t always been waiting for a redheaded, green-eyed nineteen-year-old!
It was good that she could still laugh at herself, as no doubt Gideon Maitland was laughing at her. He was experienced enough with women to know what her reaction to him meant. If only she could stop this childish trembling every time he came near her, and the way she stuttered and stumbled over her words was so juvenile.
She didn’t even know if he was still in with James Courtney when she returned from eating her sandwich lunch, as the walls of the inner office were soundproofed. Her own office still contained the aroma of the cheroot he had been smoking, and the tangy smell was pleasant to the senses, his aftershave masculine and spicy.
Was there nothing she disliked about the man! Yes, of course there was, she told herself crossly, she just didn’t know him well enough to say what they were. His eyes were cold, for one thing, cold and assessing, and he had a cynical twist to his lips constantly, mockery or boredom seeming to be his two main expressions.
She shouldn’t be thinking about him now, she should be thinking of the work she still had to do before she could go home tonight. And goodness knows, there was enough of it!
She was pounding away on her typewriter when the communicating door opened and Gideon Maitland strolled out of the main office. Laura sighed heavily as she hit the wrong key. Her typing teacher would have a fit if she could see the mess she was making of her work today—first James Courtney unnerving her and now Gideon Maitland! She back-spaced and corrected her mistake, half listening to the two men’s conversation without really meaning to. But when Gideon Maitland mentioned her name she found herself more than half listening.
‘I’ll see your Miss Jamieson on Monday morning, then,’ he drawled.
‘First thing,’ the other man nodded.
That perfect mouth twisted derisively. ‘I’m sure Miss Jamieson is never late.’
Chilling blue eyes swept over her rigid figure as she could only make a pretence of typing. ‘Are you, Gideon?’ James Courtney clipped. ‘I can’t say keeping an eye on Miss Jamieson’s timekeeping has exactly occupied any of my thoughts.’
Her mouth tightened as the two men seemed to taunt her without actually talking to her directly. And what did Gideon Maitland mean, she would see him on Monday morning?
‘I’m sure it hasn’t.’ He was smiling openly now, his teeth very white and even against his tan, suddenly looking years younger than the thirty-five years she knew him to be.
James Courtney gave him a considering look. ‘Has it occupied any of yours?’
The other man’s expression at once became bland. ‘Not that I recall,’ he replied distantly.
‘Sure?’ Once again those light blue eyes flickered over Laura.
‘Very sure,’ Gideon Maitland said tightly. ‘Will you be over to see Natalie tomorrow?’ he firmly changed the subject.
‘Of course.’ The other man’s voice was gruff.
Gideon Maitland nodded curtly. ‘I’ll tell her to expect you.’
‘I thought I might take her to the Zoo.’
‘She’ll like that,’ he nodded.
Laura tried to envisage James Courtney entertaining his granddaughter at the Zoo, and failed miserably. She couldn’t see him anywhere other than seated behind his huge mahogany desk, master of all he surveyed.
She chided herself for being unfair. The man obviously thought a lot of his daughter’s child—he had to if he was willing to take her to the Zoo!
‘Finished yet, Miss Jamieson?’
Lord, she wished he would stop pouncing on her like that! She had been trying to imagine him in the role of doting grandparent, and during that time Gideon Maitland seemed to have taken his leave.
‘Almost,’ she was relieved to be able to answer.
He continued to stare at her, not moving back into his own office as she had expected him to. ‘My son-in-law tells me I’ve been working you too hard,’ he said mildly.
Colour flooded her cheeks. ‘Oh no,’ she shook her head. ‘You—–’
‘Oh yes,’ he insisted. ‘What do you have to say about that?’
‘Why, nothing,’ she gasped. ‘I—–’
‘Nothing?’ he pounced. ‘Then you don’t agree with him?’
‘Well, I—I—–’
‘You do!’ A grim smile of satisfaction lightened his features.
‘Not really,’ she evaded his piercing eyes. ‘I—We’ve all been busy lately, I’ve worked no harder than anyone else.’
‘Exactly what I told Gideon,’ he nodded. ‘Well, we’ll see which one of us you consider a slavedriver after Monday.’
‘Sir?’ she eyed him questioningly.
A ghost of a smile lightened his harsh features. ‘I can assure you that Gideon is even more difficult to work for than I am.’
Laura frowned, having no idea what this man was talking about. Whatever it was it seemed to amuse him.
‘Dorothy will be back on Monday,’ he informed her curtly, obviously tiring of being amused at her expense. ‘You’re to report to Gideon at nine o’clock Monday morning. His secretary has gone down with this damned ‘flu bug—and you’re to be her replacement.’
‘IT’s a wonderful opportunity for you!’ Laura’s mother exclaimed when told of the arrangements for Monday morning.
‘But I already work for the chairman of the company,’ Laura sighed. ‘I can’t get any higher than that.’
‘You’re only his junior secretary, dear,’ her mother said dismissively. ‘And besides, you said this Gideon Maitland is going to be made chairman next year when James Courtney steps down.’
‘Steps