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'No way.' The response was instantaneous, followed by the sheepish smile that Mitch did so well. 'You know you're the one to deal with any difficult customers; you never let anyone get to you like I do.'
'There's always a first time.'
'You'll be fine.' Mitch patted her hand in a gesture that was meant to be comforting but was merely irritating. 'You probably won't see him again anyway. Moguls who generate that amount of power and money don't sit at home twiddling their thumbs, Mim; they're out making the city hum or whatever they do. Now, what we've got to do tonight is sort out a plan of action and go for it. If I deal with the jobs we've got on at present and leave you clear to concentrate on this until I'm needed does that suit you?'
'Does it matter if it suits me?' Miriam asked resignedly.
Mitch smiled cheerfully as he gave her a swift hug. 'That's my girl! How many part-timers can we call on, anyway?'
They discussed tactics and figures until they got back to the office attached to the small factory unit they rented, whereupon Mitch disappeared to organise the job for the next day, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
It was only after a good ten minutes that she found she was daydreaming about a host of possible situations she might find herself in, where she could put Reece Vance very firmly, and with great composure and coolness, in his place. Wherever his place was. She grimaced to herself helplessly. He didn't fit into any mould or slot that she could think of, that was sure. But, like Mitch had said, it was highly improbable that she'd see anything at all of him over the next few days—of course it was.
She gave herself a mental shake and applied herself to the task at hand, but it was harder than normal to concentrate. A cold pair of silver-grey eyes kept getting annoyingly in the way—so much so that at five o'clock, when the others left, she was still far from finished.
When the phone rang at just after six she picked it up automatically, her thoughts on the time schedule she was pencilling in, and then almost dropped it as that particular cold male voice barked the firm's name. 'Bennett and Bennett?'
'Yes.' Her voice was weak and she beard it with a strong burst of self-disgust. 'This is Miriam Bennett speaking,' she added more firmly. 'How can I help you?'
'This is Reece Vance; we met earlier.'
'Yes, Mr Vance?' He's going to cancel, she thought helplessly as a strange feeling coursed through her limbs. Would she be relieved? He'd obviously made enquiries and gone for one of the more up-market firms who were all window-dressing and caviare. She couldn't blame him, but—
'I'm afraid Mrs Goode is still in hospital,' he said grimly, 'which rather upsets the arrangements for tomorrow.'
'Oh, I'm sorry.' She desperately tried to appear businesslike but there was a definite tremble in her voice when she spoke again. 'She's more badly hurt than you thought?'
'The break is a complicated one.' Miriam would have hated to be in the poor housekeeper's shoes next time she saw her employer; even with several miles between them she could feel the angry vibes flowing down the phone. 'She'll be operated on tomorrow morning and hopefully be home within a few days. The thing is, as you so rightly mentioned this afternoon, time is of the essence.'
There was no sarcasm in the deep voice but she felt herself blushing as she remembered the emotion that had prompted her words.
'I wondered…' He hesitated for just a moment. 'I wondered if you could start to organise things without her. Jinny, the maid, will help all she can, but it will put even more pressure on you, I'm afraid. Mrs Goode has been with the family since Barbara and I were born and knows everything and everyone; I was banking on her to clear the way for you, so to speak.'
'It's no problem, Mr Vance.' The sudden relief she had felt told her that she did still want this job, very badly. 'A job of this nature is ninety-nine per cent preparation work, and you've provided both the resources and the finances for that to go smoothly. There won't be any problems we can't overcome.'
'You're very positive.' There was a note of approval in the hard voice for the first time and it was ridiculous how much it pleased her.
'So I'll still come to the house as arranged?'
'Yes, please. I'll be there myself and we can—'
'There's no need for that.' She had spoken quickly, far too quickly, and the blank silence at the other end of the phone told her that the rapier-sharp mind knew it. 'I mean…' She paused as she searched the air frantically for a way to say exactly what she didn't mean, the truth being insulting. 'I know you must be a very busy man, and this sort of thing is my job, after all. There won't be anything I can't handle—'
'Ten prompt, Miss Bennett.' As the phone went down she stared at the receiver in her hand with her heart thudding and hot rage taking the place of embarrassment. He'd hung up on her! How dared he? She bit her lip painfully. Not even a courteous farewell or a thank-you! They were certainly going to earn every penny of this undertaking.
She lounged back in the padded seat and shut her eyes, taking a few deep, calming breaths. She wasn't going to let him get to her. The resolution suddenly crystallised in her mind.
This was ridiculous. Here she was expending all this hot rage and energy on someone she would never meet again once the next two or three weeks were over, and it wasn't like her—it wasn't like her at all. She was the sunny-natured one of the partnership, always looking for a silver lining when Mitch presented them with dark storm clouds, and, what was more, usually finding it. No, for some reason which she couldn't quite fathom she had allowed Reece Vance to get under her skin from the first moment she had met him, and it had to stop.
Right now. She nodded to herself determinedly and suddenly felt miles better.
She'd do the job he was paying her so handsomely to take care of and she'd do it well. She'd pull the proverbial rabbit out of the hat, work twenty-four hours a day, eat humble pie till it came out of her ears, whatever it took. She nodded again. It wouldn't be too difficult. After all, two weeks was a mere hiccup in her lifespan and Reece Vance was only a man like any other, even if he did think the world revolved around his particular orbit.
CHAPTER TWO
'You're late.' She had flung herself out of the taxi and hurtled up the steps to the huge, studded front door, her briefcase clutched protectively across her chest and her cheeks flushed, but just as she'd raised her hand to the bell the door had opened to reveal Reece Vance's scowling dark countenance in the aperture.
She stared at him now as her mind went momentarily blank, and then pulled herself together sharply. 'I know.' She took a deep breath. 'I'm sorry, Mr Vance, but the car wouldn't start and I had to get a taxi at the last minute.'
