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Not much later, as Max Goodwin steered his Bentley over the Sovereign Islands bridge and towards Sanctuary Cove, he was asking himself why the hell he was annoyed. Because he didn’t have things under complete control yet?

He gritted his teeth. And obviously annoyed, at that.

Nor was he able to shake off that distinctly disenchanted, annoyed feeling and in consequence he was short with his staff over minute details of the golf tournament that really didn’t matter now it was over.

It wasn’t an easy few days for Alex.

Keeping Nicky cool, keeping him from scratching, keeping him occupied took quite some ingenuity, but at least it gave her little time to herself.

Fortunately Bradley, Mrs Mills’ grandson, also had had chicken pox, so when Nicky wasn’t feeling quite so sick he came to help with the jigsaw and similar activities. And Alex got to know his mother, Peta, better. And the more she got to know her, the better she liked her.

Peta had also accepted Max’s offer of a job as a back-up for Alex. ‘It’s perfect,’ she’d confided to Alex. ‘I’m with Mum, Brad loves playing with Nicky, he adores Nemo and it not only gives me something to do while my hubby is away, it’s going to earn me some very nice pocket money.’

But it wasn’t until Jake Frost arrived that Alex recalled that the last social event of the negotiations, the farewell, was to take the form of a dinner dance at the Tuscan villa.

Jake came down the day before and Alex sat in on the briefing he shared with Mrs Mills and Stan.

‘Item,’ he said, putting his forefinger on a clipboard as they sat around the kitchen table, ‘a cleaning firm is coming in first thing tomorrow morning. They’ll do windows, floors, furniture, everything, but if there’s any silver or glassware you want polished—’ he looked over the top of his glasses at Mrs Mills ‘—could you get it out, please? Item: the florist and decorator and their teams will arrive at midday. Item: the caterers will move in early afternoon. Item: we need a room for the band to retire to. I thought we’d use the pink sitting room …’

And so it went on until Jake looked across at Alex. ‘Item: children and dogs.’

They all smiled.

It was Mrs Mills who answered. ‘As you know, Jake, we can close the guest wing off. Which is how we’ve managed to corral Nemo out of the rest of the house anyway and Nicky is usually asleep by seven—the guests don’t arrive until seven-thirty.’

‘Anyway, I’ll be on hand just in case,’ Alex supplied.

But it was her turn to be looked at over the top of his glasses. ‘Item,’ Jake said, ‘Mr Goodwin has requested your presence at the dinner dance, Miss Hill.’

Alex stared at him as her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. ‘Why? Is he short of an interpreter again?’

‘Not that I’m aware of.’ Jake shook his head.

‘But—I don’t understand. And I don’t want to—’

‘Perhaps he thought it would be a nice break for you after all you’ve done for Nicky?’ Mrs Mills suggested. ‘And I can get Peta and Brad to sleep over so you wouldn’t have to worry about Nicky.’

‘I still don’t want to—’

It was Jake who interrupted her this time. ‘Miss Hill, Alex, if I may …’ he hesitated ‘… it would not be a good time to oppose Mr Goodwin.’

‘Uh-oh!’ Stan remarked. ‘In one of those moods, is he? Then I guess we all need to be on our toes.’

Jake looked forbiddingly at Stan. ‘If you knew the kind of pressure he’s been under, mate.’

‘Plus,’ Mrs Hill put in delicately, ‘there’s, well, there’s Nicky.’

Stan raised his hands in mock surrender. ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ he protested. ‘He’s a great employer ninety-nine per cent of the time. I wouldn’t want to work for anybody else. But you have to admit that that other one per cent of the time he can cut you down to size with only a couple of well-chosen words—sometimes it only takes a look to do it.’

‘Don’t you have anything to wear, dear?’ Mrs Mills put into the silence that followed Stan’s obviously accurate summing-up, Alex guessed.

‘I do, actually,’ she replied slowly. ‘I was supposed to be at this function as an interpreter. And I brought all those clothes back with me when I went home a few days ago. I just don’t understand why, though.’

‘“Ours not to reason why, ours but to do and die,”’ Jake quoted, somewhat surprisingly, ‘but, it could have something to do with your new PA job, Alex.’

She looked surprised. ‘So that’s all been set up?’

‘I believe so. Margaret told me about it, anyway.’

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