A Stranger's Kiss

no one could keep up with him. ‘There’s nothing wrong with my shorthand and I told him so.’
    ‘And that’s when he asked you to leave?’
    ‘Not in so many words.’ She compressed disapproving lips. ‘He simply suggested that if I was having a problem keeping up with him I had better look for a less demanding job. I told him that I have worked for—’
    Tara smothered a groan. ‘Yes, Mary. Your experience is without question. Sit down and have a cup of coffee.’ She soothed the ruffled feathers, promised to try and find her another job as quickly as possible and heaved a sigh of relief when she finally departed.
    Beth chuckled. ‘Do you think he’s trying to tell you something?’
    ‘What?’ Tara snapped.
    Beth raised her hands in surrender. ‘Sorry. None of my business. What are you going to do now?’
    ‘I’m not quite sure,’ she said, reaching for the telephone, ‘but I’d better do something.’ She made arrangements with another of her temps to take Mary’s place.
    ‘Don’t you think you ought to have warned her?’ Beth asked, when she replaced the receiver.
    ‘No. It’ll only make her nervous.’ Beth looked sceptical as she dialled Adam’s number and waited with growing trepidation for him to pick up the phone.
    ‘Adam Blackmore,’ he barked down the phone. Tara waited. ‘Hello?’ Marginally more friendly she thought, crossly. But not good enough. There was a pause then a soft laugh that sent shivers down her spine. ‘Hello, my lady. I wondered how long it would be before you phoned.’
     

 
    CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    HER grip on the telephone was painful, her knuckles white with the strain of holding onto her temper.
    ‘Good afternoon, Adam,’ she said, crisply. ‘I have reason to believe you need another secretary.’
    ‘I do. And would it be too much to ask for one who can take down a few simple notes without having hysterics this time?’
    ‘Mary has never had hysterics in her life,’ she said, coldly. ‘I don’t understand your problem, Adam. She was exactly what you asked for. Even down to the underwear,’ she added rashly, her fingers firmly crossed. ‘With the added bonus that she can actually type.’
     Beth’s eyebrows were working overtime on the other side of the office, but Tara studiously ignored them, furiously wishing she hadn’t allowed herself to say anything so stupid. The common sense she had always prided herself on appeared to have deserted her. She wondered if Adam Blackmore had stolen it, along with her heart.
    ‘You remembered?’ he asked, softly.
    She swallowed. Of course she remembered. She would never forget anything he had said or done. She would never forget the way he had held her, the kiss that had driven every thought from her head leaving only him to fill her mind, until the cold draught of sanity had dragged her back to reality.
    ‘Tara?’ he prompted.
    ‘Of course I remembered,’ she said, with all the outward appearance of calm. ‘Nothing is too much for a client. Any client,’ she added, and quickly continued. ‘You can expect a suitably qualified senior secretary by the name of Lisa Martin at nine o’clock tomorrow morning.’ He made no response to this and Tara was beginning to find it difficult to breathe. ‘She is our very best shorthand secretary. She doesn’t normally work during the school holidays, but I have managed to persuade her to work for you,’ she rushed on.
    ‘I’m glad you have a good memory. It will help keep you warm on cold winter nights.’ His voice was without emotion, yet as he dropped the receiver back onto the cradle she shivered.
    She put the phone down quickly and snatched her hand away as if somehow he could reach out through the receiver and hold her. She had tried to be business-like, but he continued to torment her. Why? He was the one who said he didn’t want to see her ever again. So why couldn’t he just leave her to get on with her life?
    What life? forlornly echoed back in her head. Before she had met Adam she’d had work, a new business to build up with Beth, a pleasant social life and a godmother in the Lake District who emerged only for weddings and funerals these days and who she didn’t see enough of, but who she loved dearly.
    She still had all those things, but none of them seemed to matter very much. Perhaps if she had had a family, brothers and sisters it would have been different. But she had never known her parents. Mr and Mrs Lambert had taken her in when she