‘I tell you something, Father, you really should take a good look at Nat one of these days—you might be pleasantly surprised. She’s certainly hungry to prove herself to you.’
‘Unlike you.’ He sounded disgruntled but Benedict could see his father was looking thoughtful. ‘About that woman…’
‘Rachel,’ Benedict said firmly.
‘I’m only thinking of your best interests.’
‘A twelve-bore might be less destructive than your concern,’ Benedict told him frankly but without heat. ‘If it makes you feel any better she isn’t interested in me…’
His father laughed ruefully. ‘Perhaps she’s got something about her after all.’
‘Parental approval—I feel so much better.’
‘I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head, young man, and I’m not approving of anything.’
‘Were you rude to her?’
‘As a matter of fact I was extremely civil.’
‘Oh?’
The narrow-eyed suspicion from his offspring provoked an exasperated sigh. ‘It’s possible I might have accidentally flicked on the intercom whilst we were…’
‘Whilst you were calling her a gold-digging opportunist. I suppose you made sure she received a strictly expurgated version.’
‘Naturally when I happened to see the red light I switched it off.’
Giving his father a hawkish look that shook the older man deeply, Benedict turned his back and strode purposefully out of the room.
Surprise, surprise, the outer office was empty. He couldn’t go back into his office; he didn’t trust himself to look at his father, let alone speak to him. He’d been entirely too tolerant of the manipulative old man over the years.
Where would she go? he wondered. Her half-opened bag lay beside the desk. Of course—the answer was obvious. Where did women always go when they wanted to shed a tear in private?
‘Good morning, Ben.’ The latest female pupil to be recruited to the chambers stared at him, startled, as he walked confidently past her into the ladies’ room.
‘Morning, Sarah.’
A quick survey revealed there was nobody standing beside the mirrors that ran the length of the plushly carpeted room. One cubicle door was closed.
‘I know you’re in there, Rachel, so you might as well come out. You only heard what my father wanted you to.’ His voice echoed in the high-ceilinged room. ‘I know you can hear me, Rachel. I need to talk to you. Come on out. Damn it, woman, if you don’t come out I’ll knock the door down!’ he warned.
His head fell back as relief flooded through his body at the sound of the bolt sliding back. ‘Rach—’ The eager smile faded dramatically from his face as the occupant fully emerged.
‘Sorry to disappoint you, Ben, but it’s only me.’ A solicitor with whom he’d worked on several occasions stepped forward, trying without much success to hide her broad grin.
‘Carol. Hello. I thought you were someone else.’
‘So I gathered,’ she observed, with a limpid look. ‘I had no idea you were so romantic…or forceful…’ A twinge of envy mingled with her amusement as she finally succumbed to mirth, but she was talking to empty space.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘SORRY I’m late.’
Kurt Hassler got to his feet, his hand extended. ‘Don’t worry, Ben; Rachel explained about your emergency. We’ve been well looked after.’
‘I’m sure you have.’
Rachel’s eyes slid self-consciously away from the dark, ironic gaze. ‘I’ll see you all after lunch, gentlemen,’ she said with a smile as she got to her feet.
‘It’s a working lunch; I think it would be beneficial to have you with us, Rachel. Besides, it’s going to be a long session this afternoon; we don’t want you fading on us before we’re through.’ He turned to the other men. ‘These young women and their apples and yogurt. Always dieting.’ There was a general male wave of agreement and a flurry of compliments on the perfection of her figure.
Rachel’s smile became strained as she thought vicious thoughts about where she’d put her apple had she had one to hand. She was sure that Ben knew exactly how much she hated this patronising, pat-her-on-the-head sort of situation.
‘I don’t diet and I’ve never had any complaints about my staying power.’ She positioned herself between the solid bulk of Kurt Hassler and Benedict. ‘However, there’s no way I’m going to turn down a free lunch.’
There was also no way she was going to let Benedict know she’d heard the start of the humiliating conversation with his father. At least she could stop worrying about the possibility that she was going to cave in to temptation. After the things Sir Stuart had said she had no doubt Ben would steer clear of her. A dalliance with a mere secretary—especially one, horror of horrors, with a child!—wasn’t worth risking his brilliant prospects for.