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“No.”
That did surprise him. “And yet you are highly regarded by the man who owns the agency. He recommended you over all his other staff.”
Olivia felt pleasure curl her toes. She was not given to false modesty. She shrugged her slim shoulders. “I’m good at what I do.”
He studied her in detail and again her obvious physical attributes punctuated the worry that fogged him constantly at that time. He supposed she had a lot of clients who enjoyed having such a beautiful woman at their beck and call. Had she ever been asked to give more of herself than her job technically required? Had she ever been expected to indulge all of her clients’ desires?
“Do you train for something like this?”
“No, not as such,” she smiled and sipped her tea. It was delicious. Herbal and fruity, with a refreshing aftertaste. “Lots of different skills come into play.”
“Such as?” He prompted.
“Patience. Lateral thinking. Charm.” She flicked her eyes to his face. Olivia found it hard to believe this man truly wanted to hear about her professional background. He was quiet, as though her words were reverberating around his handsome head. But he didn’t speak.
After almost a minute, she said gently, “If there’s nothing else, sir …”
His expression was instantly displeased. “I would like you to remain until I dismiss you. Understood?”
Her heart turned over in her chest. He was not the first client to treat her like dirt on his shoe, but for some reason, his domineering tone cut her to the quick.
“Yes, sir,” and though she didn’t salute, the offence in her voice was obvious.
He heard it; he understood, and he cared far more than he ought. His explanation was the closest he’d come to apology in a long time. “My business here is not pleasant. I find I cannot put it from my mind. I want you to help me.” And there was a tone of pleading in his voice. “Do you have any brothers?”
This man was a contradiction in terms. Strong, confident and overbearing, there was a frailty to him that enlisted every single protective instinct she possessed. And that made no sense. “No, sir. I have two sisters though.” She didn’t reveal to many people that she was a triplet. The admission, coupled with her ridiculous cleavage and general appearance, caused more lascivious remarks than she wanted to deal with. And yet she heard herself say, “We’re triplets.”
“Triplets?” He sipped his tea, watching her carefully over the rim. “That must be interesting.”
“Yes.” She found herself relaxing a little, when she thought of Ava and Soph.
“Are you close?”
“Yes,” she responded instantly. “Not geographically at the moment. My sister Sophie is newly married and based in Europe. Ava is in Australia; she took over our vineyard when mum died.” Her voice cracked a little at the admission. No matter how many times she spoke of the loss, it still brought a mist of sadness to her.
Zamir’s eyes were speculative. “When did you lose your mother?”
“Five years ago this Christmas,” she responded, trying to insert some matter-of-factness into her words.
“How?”
Olivia shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t like to speak about it.”
If he were under less pressure, he might have known not to push her. But Zamir was curious about this woman, and about her history, and so he used his position to secure his goal. “How?” His word was imperious.
She put her teacup down and crossed her arms. “An accident.” It was the briefest amount of information she could provide.
“Yes?” He prompted, sipping his tea once more.
Olivia ground her teeth together. “With all due respect, and at the risk of being fired, it’s none of your business.”
Zamir, despite his displeasure at being disobeyed, admired her spirit and strength. “Very well,” he agreed, surprising them both.
“Thank you.” It was a small whisper of gratitude.
“How old are you?” He changed the subject with startling speed.
“I … why?”
