The Boss and His Secretary. Jessica Steele

carry this tray out?’ she addressed Jake pleasantly without looking at him, not seeing why he shouldn’t make himself useful. Picking up the tray she had laid earlier, she took it to him, and was glad to have the kitchen to herself when, Mr Compton chatting away, they departed.

      Taryn busied herself making a pot of tea, and as she did so began to see that perhaps, in all fairness, Beryl-nee-Compton—she had no idea what her last name was—was only acting as any daughter worthy of the name should. What with her father by the sound of it singing the praises of his temporary housekeeper with every phone call, perhaps it wasn’t so surprising she should want to know that he wasn’t, as it were, being taken for a ride—offensive to her father though that might be.

      ‘You’ve forgotten the extra cup,’ Mr Compton reminded her when she carried a tray of tea and extra hot water out to them.

      That he intended she should join them was kind, and had his great-nephew not been there she would have been pleased to have kept him company. But his nephew was there and, while she didn’t give a button that he might report back on how the housekeeper had joined them for tea, she thought Osgood Compton might enjoy some male company for a change.

      ‘I’ve got something in the oven I want to keep my eye on,’ she stated, though the casserole in the oven she was making ready for the freezer was able to cook quite well on its own, without her watching it.

      ‘If you’re sure?’ he answered, and then, as she paused a moment to check cake, cake knives, napkins, and that they had everything they would need, ‘Taryn’s normally in engineering too,’ he informed his nephew. ‘It was my good fortune that she wanted a break from it when Mrs Ellington had to go…’

      ‘You’re an engineer?’ Jake Nash asked, every bit as if he was interested.

      This time she could not avoid meeting his grey eyes. ‘PA,’ she replied briefly, and left it at that.

      She was on her way back across the lawn when she heard Osgood Compton informing his great-nephew, ‘Taryn was a PA at Mellor Engineering. You know them, of course?’

      He would know from that too, Taryn realised as she sipped her own tea, why she had been in the building that day. It would not explain, though, why she had given him such short shrift in the lift when he had seen that she was upset. But, from his uncle’s comment just now that she had wanted a break from her more normal line of work, it was something of a whopping clue to anyone with a degree of intelligence that the reason she had been upset was because her employment had just been terminated.

      It was fairly obvious to her that Jake Nash had much more than a degree of intelligence, but she cared not that he might think she had been dismissed from her post. And she saw no reason whatsoever to tell him that, when it came to terminating her employment, she had been the one to do it.

      Taryn all at once realised that she was feeling quite anti. Quite worked up. Quite, quite…Words failed her. She did not like the man. Life here with Mr Compton had been tranquil. This man—Jake Nash—had strode in and shattered that tranquillity—and she did not like that either.

      She made herself scarce when from the window she saw that her temporary employer and his nephew, carrying the heaviest tray, were heading for the kitchen. In her view he was Mr Compton’s visitor. There was no need at all for the housekeeper to be there to bid him farewell. She escaped to her room.

      She left it a few minutes after she had seen his car go down the drive before she went down the stairs again, and was in the kitchen scraping new potatoes for the evening meal when Osgood Compton came looking for her.

      ‘Jake’s gone,’ he announced needlessly.

      ‘It must have been nice to see him,’ she replied. No need for the dear man to know that she knew the true reason for his visit—or for him to know how antagonistic she felt towards the man.

      ‘It was. Especially when he’s always so busy,’ Osgood agreed.

      ‘He mentioned he had business this way,’ Taryn commented non-committally.

      ‘Jake always has business somewhere,’ he answered proudly. And added, with yet more pride, ‘He heads the Nash Corporation. I expect you’ve heard of them?’

      Taryn stared at him in amazement. Everybody who knew anything about engineering had heard of the Nash Corporation. Not that they dealt only in engineering. They were well known in the design, development and manufacturing world—a corporation that was involved in electronics, engineering and aviation, to name but a few. And Jake Nash headed that corporation!

      ‘I didn’t know he was that Nash,’ she answered with a smile. It did not make her like Jake Nash any better, but his uncle need not know that she was a touch anti-nephew just then.

      ‘He’s done well,’ he commented—a modest understatement, she felt. Mellor Engineering was quite a large outfit, but it was just not in the same league as the Nash Corporation. ‘Jake liked your cake, by the way.’

      ‘Oh, did he?’ she replied sunnily.

      ‘He said that if you’re half as good a PA as you are a cook, you’ll be snapped up the moment you put yourself back on the PA market.’

      Too kind! She changed the subject. ‘I thought we’d have a chicken salad for dinner.’

      ‘Are you going to make some of that special potato salad you made the other day?’ he asked appreciatively. He was a joy to spoil.

      Over the next few days Taryn felt her equilibrium start to settle down again. She had wanted that tranquillity back, and by about Wednesday morning she reckoned she had found it. It was not to last.

      For all she took care of all the chores, Osgood Compton treated her more like a house guest than a housekeeper. They had enjoyed a shared lunch and, having left him to take what he called ‘a little zizz’—his usual afternoon nap—she was in the kitchen preparing vegetables for the evening meal when, to her astonishment, the kitchen door opened and none other than Jake Nash walked in!

      Feeling fairly staggered, she asked, ‘Where did you leave your car?’ craning to see the whole semi-circle of the drive. Where had he sprung from? She rinsed her hands and grabbed up a towel and, turning to face him, began drying them.

      ‘I’ve walked up from the road. I didn’t want to disturb my uncle.’

      Didn’t want…? Was she to take it from that that he did not want to disturb his uncle’s nap—or did she gather that Jake Nash was there to see her? Familiar feelings of hostility butted away tranquillity. ‘Come to check I haven’t run off with the family silver?’ she bridled, dark blue eyes flashing violet sparks.

      For answer he gave her a smile of such sinking charm that she almost forgot that she didn’t like him. ‘We got off on the wrong foot,’ he suggested pleasantly, and held out his right hand.

      Taryn stared at him, refusing to shake hands. ‘You want something?’ she said warily.

      ‘We both do,’ he acknowledged, his hand dropping back to his side.

      ‘We—do?’ She was cagey still.

      ‘Are you going to make me a cup of tea?’ he requested.

      Taryn turned away to set the kettle to boil, knowing without having to ask that he had not been referring to a cup of tea when he had said he wanted something.

      ‘You’ll join me, I hope?’ he invited, when he observed she had taken out only one cup and saucer.

      No need to be antagonistic just for the sake of it, she decided, taking out another cup and saucer and, since he was not yet ready to go and see his uncle, inviting him to take a seat at the kitchen table.

      ‘Cake?’ she offered.

      ‘You heard?’

      Her lips twitched. He knew his uncle had passed on his compliment about her cake. She glanced at Jake Nash and saw he had his eyes on her nearly smiling mouth, perhaps noting he had reached