A Stranger's Kiss

apparent lack of interest, his eyes flickered to hers and she pressed on. When she had finished silence flooded back into the room.
    ‘You’re too expensive,’ he said, at last.
    ‘We’re the best,’ she countered, with relief. She found hard business a great deal easier to deal with than sexual innuendo.
    ‘That’s simply your opinion. And your business methods to date are not exactly reassuring.’
    She refused to be drawn back down that path. Whatever he thought, she knew she had done nothing to apologise for, nothing to be ashamed of.
    ‘I can give you references from the companies for whom we work on a regular basis. The companies who are astute enough to understand that you get exactly what you pay for.’ She couldn’t resist the gibe.
    ‘You’re hardly likely to give me the name of anyone who was dissatisfied. I prefer to make my own judgements.’
    She sat forward. ‘I’m happy with that. Try us.’
    He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. ‘I’ll try you, Tara.’
    She smiled then, glad of the opportunity to offer a rebuff to this infuriating man, ‘I’m afraid I’m not for hire, Adam.’
    ‘A pity.’ He stood up and walked around the desk, placed a hand beneath her elbow and helped her to her feet. ‘Perhaps when you’re...’ — he raised one mocking brow — ‘...astute enough to grasp the opportunity I have offered you we can talk again.’
    Startled by the speed of events, Tara had offered no resistance and was half way to the door before she realised that she had been dismissed.
    ‘But... I can’t. I have a business to run,’ she protested. ‘I never temp myself... not since...’ her voice trailed away as his eyes challenged her.
    ‘Perhaps you’re afraid of putting yourself on the line?’ he offered, softly. He opened the door. Another moment and it would be too late.
    ‘Of course not!’ Her mind was racing through the possibility he had presented and maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. No one was better able to demonstrate the quality of her agency; she measured all her girls against her own standards. Beth would have to manage the office for a week or so and she could catch up with her own paperwork in the evenings. He was waiting. Tara gave him a straight look. ‘Very well, Adam. Thank you for the opportunity. May I assume that if I can meet the required standard you will give my company the first opportunity to fill your temporary vacancies on the terms I have outlined?’
    ‘You may.’ His smile was a challenge. ‘But I warn you, my standards are very high.’
    She lifted her chin and met him head on. ‘So are mine. When shall I start and who do you want me to work for?’
    ‘You start now, Tara. And you work for me.’
    She recalled the badly typed report he’d been reading and knew she should have seen that coming. Meanwhile, Adam was watching her, his expression giving nothing away, waiting for her to protest. She would not give him that satisfaction. She had sold her girls as the ultimate secretaries. Now was the moment to demonstrate all the calm, unflappable qualities of that breed.
    ‘Certainly. May I ring my partner to explain?’
    A spark of annoyance that kindled for a moment in his eyes was quickly masked, but Tara had seen it and felt a ridiculous surge of triumph. ‘I’ll show you to your office.’
    He led the way to a hi-tech office next door to his own. ‘You’ll find everything you need in here. I’ll give you five minutes to make your call and find your way around then you can bring in a notebook.’ His eyes left her face and drifted down, absorbing every detail of her appearance from the snowy white blouse, to the prim knee length skirt. He paused in the doorway, a faint smile curving his lips. ‘You’ve taken so much trouble to look the part. Is it too much to hope that you can actually take shorthand?’
    ‘Shorthand?’ Tara said, as if she’d never heard the word before. Her fingers gently touched the little gold brooch pinned to her collar. ‘I expect I’ll manage.’
    ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to do better than that,’ he said, with satisfaction. ‘Or you’ll fail at the first hurdle.’
    Tara tried the three telephones that lined the desk until she found one with a direct outside line, called Beth to briefly explain what had happened and arrange an evening meeting to organise working arrangements.
    A quick exploration of a cupboard revealed a pile of stationery and she took a notepad and several pencils