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Immediately, my mind flashed back several months, to a dark hotel room in Egypt, the messy double bed, and all the positions I had occupied under Mr Rikkard Ambrose. Thank God that my face was too tanned to really blush. Still, I could feel my ears burning.

‘I, err, am Mr Ambrose’s private secretary.’

Very private, on occasion.

‘I see.’

‘And you…’ I still couldn’t stop staring. ‘You really are his mother? Are you sure?’

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. ‘I was there at the birth, you know. Yes, I’m quite sure.’

If my ears had been burning before, they felt about ready to explode now. ‘Sorry! I didn’t mean…! It’s just, Mr Ambrose always seems as if he were chiselled out of some mountain, not made out of flesh and bone.’

‘Yes.’ The proud light shining in her eyes undeniably confirmed her words. She really was his mother. Or she was crazy enough to think she was. I still wasn’t sure which was more likely. ‘He has grown into a strapping young man, hasn’t he?’

That’s putting it mildly.

‘That’s not the only reason why I was surprised,’ I dared to say. ‘I’ve been with Mr Ambrose for quite a while now, and he has never mentioned a mother. Now that I think about it, he’s never mentioned any family.’

Pain shot across her face like a bolt of lightning. She concealed it fast, but it was there, and it was real. This was no imposter or madwoman. This was a mother in agony.

Oh crap! What am I going to do?

‘Never?’ she asked in a whisper.

‘Never.’

She clo

sed her eyes for a moment. ‘Well…no. I imagine he wouldn’t.’

When she opened her eyes again, they were moist. But she had not let the threatening tears spill over. And, to judge by the stubborn set of her chin, she wasn’t going to.

‘I still want to see him.’

Blast, blast, blast! This isn’t fair!

No secretary should have to deal with something like this! Blustering bankers? No problem. Stinking beggars? Send them my way! Striking employees? I’m your girl! But nearly weeping mothers? He didn’t pay me nearly enough for this!

I cleared my throat.

‘I am afraid Mr Ambrose doesn’t want to be disturbed.’

There! Problem solved. Now she has to go away, right?

‘I still want to see him, Mr Linton.’

Damn!

‘He really, really doesn’t want to be disturbed,’ I hedged.

‘I really, really want to see him. P-’

Don’tSayItDon’tSayItDon’tSayIt!

‘-lease.’

Bloody hell!

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