A Convenient Marriage. Maggie Cox

at the end of the room. Javier hesitated, his astute business sense automatically kicking in as he scanned the small but neatly presented room with its three old-fashioned desks planted side by side, with an equally old-fashioned computer terminal positioned on top of each one. What was that word the English liked to use when describing something traditional rather than modern? ‘Quaint’, he thought it was. Yes, quaint. He smiled back at the woman who’d careened into him with her umbrella and registered that her eyes were startlingly blue and guileless…almost untainted by life.

      ‘You must eat your lunch as we talk,’ he instructed, and the guileless blue eyes shone back at him in surprise.

      Sabrina could hardly believe a stranger was capable of such consideration. A little burst of warmth spread inside her. ‘I’ll make some coffee,’ she replied. ‘Would you like some?’

      ‘Black—no sugar. Thank you.’ Javier positioned his tall frame in a padded chair nearest to the office. Silently he watched her through the open door, marking her hurried movements. He saw her remove her coat and hang it on an old wooden coat-tree, saw her hand pat the back of her golden-brown hair encased in its slightly awry knot and registered that she was very pleasingly built beneath the rather plain blue suit and white blouse. Even several feet away from her, her light floral perfume lingered, insinuating its way past his defences and making him feel surprisingly at ease. Astounding when his heart and head were in such turmoil over Angelina and her father. Michael had insisted the child attend school today and at three-thirty Rosie would pick her up and take her to a friend’s for tea. ‘Best keep everything as normal as possible,’ Michael had instructed him. Javier intended to be back at the house to greet her when she came back from her friend’s—by which time he would surely have had news of the outcome of his brother-in-law’s treatment?

      ‘There you are.’ Registering the slight rattle of the cup in the saucer as she placed the coffee carefully down in front of him, Sabrina noted there were no rings on his fingers and his hands were very slender and very brown. And that accent of his—she couldn’t quite place it; South American perhaps, but which country?

      Sliding behind her desk, she drew her own mug of steaming coffee towards her. Self-consciously unwrapping her sandwiches, she gathered up the cling film into a little ball and jettisoned it into a nearby bin.

      ‘I hope you don’t mind?’ she checked again before taking a ladylike bite of her chicken sandwich. ‘I didn’t actually have any breakfast and to tell you the truth I’m starving!’

      ‘Go ahead. One cannot properly conduct business on an empty stomach.’ His lips parted in a brief smile. His teeth were very white against his tan, and movie-star perfect. For the first time she noticed he had a dimple in his chin…a very sexy little dimple. Somehow her morsel of food had trouble getting past her throat.

      ‘So…any ideas where you’d like to go?’

      ‘Excuse me?’

      ‘On holiday? I presume you’re thinking of taking a break somewhere?’

      Javier shrugged his broad shoulders and wondered what the perfectly English Miss—he squinted at the name on the small gold badge on her lapel—Sabrina Kendricks would think if she knew he had travelled the globe more times than she’d find it easy to believe. As a man who’d built up a successful one-stop travel business on the internet, he spent a large majority of his life travelling. No, he didn’t need a holiday. What he needed right now was a little more complicated than that…

      ‘Are you usually this quiet?’ Ignoring her question, Javier posed another one. As he did so he glanced curiously around him, noting the colourful posters of varying exotic locations on the walls behind her, the two tall potted plants that resembled miniature palm trees by the door, the once rich maroon carpet beneath his feet that was more than just a little faded. The whole business had an air of regal deterioration about it. Rubbing his hand round the back of his neck, Javier sighed. Her computer system looked badly out of date, too. How on earth were they making a living?

      Sabrina took a hasty sip of coffee, nearly scalding her mouth in the process. ‘It’s raining,’ she explained as if he should understand the unspoken meaning without her elucidating further.

      ‘That puts people off?’ His lips quirked wryly. The woman was blushing and it intrigued him as to why.

      ‘It’s a slow time of the year.’ Shrugging, she glanced quickly away from his too knowing black eyes.

      ‘I should have thought many people would be booking vacations leading up to Christmas. The prospect of getting away after such a hectic time would appeal to most, no?’

      He said it as if he knew what he was talking about and Sabrina felt herself grow prickly and defensive. She could hardly tell him that the bigger travel chains that dominated most high streets nowadays naturally took most of the business. But then they couldn’t offer the very personal, specialist, highly skilled service that Sabrina and her colleagues had perfected over fifteen years, could they? The chains didn’t have time to devote to planning sometimes elaborate itineraries for their wealthier, more established clients—not when they wanted to shift as many cheap package holidays as possible. If Sabrina wanted to compete, it looked as if she would have to go that way too.

      ‘It’s not always as quiet as this.’

      ‘I have offended you.’ Javier heard the slight quiver in her voice with genuine remorse, saw the wave of pink that shaded her cheeks.

      ‘No.’ Putting down her half-eaten sandwich, Sabrina patted her lips with her paper napkin. For some reason a picture of the loathsome Richard Weedy floated into her mind and she heard him say again that she wasn’t a good risk so he wouldn’t be recommending the loan. She’d walked out of the bank feeling as if she’d gone to him with a begging bowl. Ugh!

      ‘I’m just not having a very good day. Nothing to do with anyone else but my own sorry inability to rise above my disappointment.’

      Inexplicably, Javier’s gaze went to her fingers. Her hands were pretty and small but minus a ring of any description. ‘Someone hurt your feelings…a man, perhaps?’

      It took only a couple of seconds for his comment to click. ‘Not in any romantic sense, no.’ She was smiling now, her blue eyes shining with humour, and Javier realised that, with her high cheekbones and generous mouth, she was really quite exquisite. She’d be even more exquisite if she let that hair of hers down… Now, where had that thought come from?

      ‘Anyway. Back to business. If you don’t want a holiday, Mr—er—?’

      ‘D’Alessandro—Javier D’Alessandro.’

      He said it so beautifully that Sabrina was instantly transported to another time and place; somewhere very different from chilly, dreary London, somewhere with a landscape of burnt sienna and hot sun, a place where conquistadores ruled the land, conjuring up pictures of glamour and adventure. A place where her current concerns and worries disappeared like magic beneath the hypnotic gaze of a dark-skinned, dark-eyed lover…

      ‘If you don’t want a holiday, Mr D’Alessandro, then what can I do for you?’ Unconsciously her tongue wetted the seam of her lips. Javier’s eyes seemed to grow darker still as he registered the fact.

      ‘I’d like to take you to dinner.’ How long had that little thought been going round in his head? Javier wiped his palms down the thighs of his expensive Savile Row suit. He concentrated for a few seconds on her name badge. ‘Can I call you in a few days, Sabrina? Right now I have some important business to take care of.’

      ‘Dinner?’ For a crazy moment she wondered if she’d heard him right. Good-looking strangers didn’t usually just walk in off the street and ask her for a date. Her shoulders stiffened slightly with suspicion.

      ‘Yes, dinner. What do you think?’

      ‘Not a good idea.’ Picking up her pen, she scanned the loose papers on her desk for something that needed her attention—anything that would distract her from the quiet scrutiny of those disturbing dark eyes. ‘I don’t