A Boss In A Million. HELEN BROOKS

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      “You’re the boss.”

      “Yes, I am, aren’t I?” Max agreed musingly.

      Cory was determined he wasn’t going to intimidate her. She stared at him, keeping her face bland.

      “The thing is, Cory, I’ve decided not to go back to the office today. And you are staying here until tomorrow morning.” He had the audacity to smile as he added, “There are five guest bedrooms to choose from.”

      “Who do you think you are, Max Hunter? Employing me as your secretary did not mean you had the right to my soul as well.”

      Max jerked Cory into his arms before she realized what was happening. “Now, as it happens, it’s not your soul I had in mind.”

      HELEN BROOKS lives in Northamptonshire, England, and is married with three children. As she is a committed Christian, busy housewife and mother, her spare time is at a premium, but her hobbies include reading and walking her two energetic and very endearing young dogs. Her long-cherished aspiration to write became a reality when she put pen to paper on reaching the age of forty, and sent the result off to Harlequin.

      Look out for MARRY ME?, a new two-part series by Helen Brooks, coming soon!

      A Boss in a Million

      Helen Brooks

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      CONTENTS

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      CHAPTER TEN

      CHAPTER ONE

      ‘LONDON? Oh, Cory, don’t. Don’t leave. Things will work out for you here; I know they will. Just be patient.’

      Cory Masters stared back into the face of her friend, her dear friend, the man she had known all her life and loved just as long. How could she tell him that the reasons she had just given for leaving her sleepy little rural home town nestled deep in the green folds of North Yorkshire were lies? The real cause of her intended flight to the anonymity of the metropolis was him, Vivian Batley-Thomas.

      Cory smiled brightly, her deep sea-green eyes with their fascinating hint of purple determinedly clear and open and giving no hint of her inward turmoil. ‘It’s all arranged, Vivian.’ She flicked back an errant strand of silky dark brown hair that had blown across her cheek as she continued, her voice cheerful, ‘I had the interview a week ago but I didn’t think I stood a chance of getting the job when I saw some of the opposition, but then this morning Mr Hunter’s secretary phoned. I start in four weeks’ time so I can have a few weeks with her showing me the ropes before she leaves to follow her husband to his new job in the States at the end of May.’

      ‘But if you were thinking of something like this why didn’t you say?’ Vivian asked bewilderedly, his voice holding a slightly plaintive note and his boyishly handsome face set in a dark frown. ‘And there’s the wedding and everything; Carole was relying on you to help her with all the arrangements—she just hasn’t got a clue regarding anything practical.’ His voice was indulgent rather than critical and then it changed as he added, ‘You are the chief bridesmaid after all.’

      ‘I know.’ The smile was being kept in place by sheer will-power now. If anyone knew, she knew. Chief bridesmaid to the beautiful newcomer to the market town who had captured Vivian’s heart from the first time he had seen her at one of the local barn dances. Carole James, with her long blonde hair and deep blue eyes, hourglass figure and the sort of legs that went on for ever. And she was nice too, Cory thought wretchedly. A bit giggly and helpless, and she’d definitely never win Mastermind, but nevertheless nice.

      ‘And I can still be Carole’s bridesmaid so don’t worry. Most of the arrangements can be sorted before I go—that won’t be a problem—and you’ve already booked the church and the village hall with your uncle, haven’t you?’ Vivian’s uncle was the local vicar. ‘And I’ll be home for the odd weekend before September if there’s anything Carole needs help with,’ she added soothingly.

      ‘Of course there’ll be things she’ll need help with.’ Vivian’s voice was both anxious and irritated, and for a moment Cory’s pain was swallowed in anger.

      How could he be so…so thick? she asked herself silently. They had always lived in each other’s pockets from the day they had first started kindergarten together, and with their families living only three doors from each other had spent all their childhood and youth in each other’s homes. His parents were almost as close to her as her own. And even when they had gone to their respective universities and met other people none of their relationships had come close to what they had with each other.

      Not that anything had ever been said exactly. But it hadn’t needed to be. She had known he was the one for her and vice versa. Or so she had thought… More fool her, she added bitterly.

      ‘Vivian, I know Carole has no family of her own but your mother will advise in any way she can.’ Cory forced her voice to be calm and unruffled. ‘The village hall is booked for the reception already and your mother knows the caterers your uncle suggested. There’s really no problem. Everything is in hand.’

      ‘But she was relying on your moral support—’

      ‘She’ll have you for moral support for goodness’ sake!’ It was a snap; Cory’s patience only went so far. Her mother was a redhead and in a certain light the deep auburn highlights in her own dark brown hair bore testimony to the fact that she had a good number of her mother’s vibrant fiery genes in her.

      ‘So you really intend to go?’ Vivian asked tightly after a small but very pregnant pause, his mouth pulling into a thin line.

      ‘Yes, I really intend to go.’ Cory’s voice was equally tight. She’d go tomorrow if she could. She’d had quite enough the last few months of watching Vivian billing and cooing with the curvaceous blonde, and the engagement party the week before had been an ordeal she wouldn’t wish on her own worst enemy. It was over six months to the middle of September, and she would never survive the course if she had to remain in Thirsk all that time. For some strange reason Carole seemed determined to make her her best friend.

      ‘Then there’s nothing more to be said,’ Vivian said stiffly, and then, in repudiation of that statement, he continued, ‘But why you couldn’t have put your career on hold for a few more months and carried on working at Stanley & Thornton’s I don’t know. You say you want a change and that a new job and surroundings will stretch you, and I can understand that at your age—’ she’d hit him, she really would, she’d hit him! ‘—but another six months wouldn’t have made any difference in the overall run of things.’

      ‘Perhaps at my great age I didn’t think I’d got time to hang about,’ Cory bit out sharply as Vivian walked towards the door. Carole, at just twenty years of age, was four years younger than Cory and Vivian and had already pointed the fact out several times in her cute, open-eyed way that made Cory feel like Methuselah. ‘Maybe I thought I’d got to grab at life before it passed me by?’ Even as she spoke the words she realised there was more than a little self-prophecy in them. She should have left Yorkshire years ago.

      Vivian didn’t pause in his retreat from her mother’s pleasant rose-coloured lounge, and after a second or two, when she heard the front door bang behind him, Cory took a long, deep, reviving breath and forced back the hot tears that were burning the back of her eyes, blinking desperately as she raised her chin high.

      No more. No more crying!