Billionaire Bosses Collection. Кэрол Мортимер

it, she belongs to Farley & Son,’ David declared firmly.

      Angela embraced her wildly, declaring, ‘You’re a magician. You just waved a magic wand.’

      ‘No, it was really Ginevra who waved the wand,’ Pippa said. ‘She’s still got a soft spot for you, Charlie, especially after you helped her escape. Fancy telling me you were going to shop her to the police! You didn’t mean a word of it.’

      He had the grace to blush. ‘I sort of meant it,’ he said awkwardly. ‘But then it seemed such a terrible thing to do that I got her away fast.’

      ‘So I gathered. She wrote to the police telling them what had really happened, but that wouldn’t have been enough on its own. Anyone can take the blame for anything from a safe distance. That’s probably why she gave me all the other information about Fletcher’s past.’

      ‘But how did she know all that stuff?’ Charlie asked.

      ‘She has friends in the police,’ Pippa said cautiously.

      ‘Ah, yes, I see.’ He grimaced.

      ‘She told me what I needed, I hired a very good private detective and he did the rest.’

      She was talking mechanically. Something was missing. Where was Roscoe? What would he say?

      Then he seemed to appear from nowhere, standing before her.

      ‘You were wonderful,’ he said. ‘Past my wildest hopes. When you wouldn’t look at me just now I was afraid you were going to snub me. I guess I deserve it.’

      ‘No, of course not. I’m just glad things worked out for you.’

      ‘For me? ‘ he queried. He added quietly, ‘Or for us?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ she said huskily.

      ‘No, that’s what we still have to find out, isn’t it?’

      He took her hand, holding it between both of his. She met his eyes and saw in them—what? Everything she wanted? No, because she didn’t know what that was. But something that pointed the way.

      ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘We still have to find out.’

      ‘Will you come to my home tonight? I don’t want to come to your place in case Charlie turns up.’

      ‘I’ll be there,’ she promised.

      Neither of them noticed Charlie standing a few feet away, his head on one side, a little smile of cheeky understanding on his lips.

      Back at the office that afternoon, she had a long talk with David, who made it clear that her value had dramatically increased. The word ‘partnership’ was mentioned.

      ‘Not right now, because it’s a bit soon,’ he said, ‘but we’ve got our eyes on you and will take drastic steps to stop you being poached by any other firm. In the meantime, you’ll have to make do with a raise.’

      Her career was heading for the heights. She wondered when Roscoe would call her.

      The phone rang. She snatched it up. But it wasn’t Roscoe. It was Lee Renton, the impresario she’d last seen in The Diamond.

      ‘You were right,’ he boomed. ‘I do need a pre-nuptial agreement.’

      ‘I’ll get to work—’ Suddenly Pippa sat up straight in her chair as inspiration came to her. ‘Lee, could you do me a big favour?’

      ‘Name it.’

      She explained what she wanted.

      He listened with the occasional grunt, ending with, ‘Consider it done. I’ll be in touch.’ He hung up.

      The next call was the one she longed for.

      ‘I’m going home now,’ came Roscoe’s voice.

      ‘I’m on my way.’

       CHAPTER TEN

      ROSCOE’S apartment was high up in a tall, plain block, which once she would have said was typical of the man. But that was before she’d discovered the hidden, complex depths that meant there was no such thing as ‘typical’ of him.

      Who would ever have thought that this man would be waiting at his open door, would pull her inside and crush her in his arms as though he’d waited all his life for this moment? Or hear him say in a shaking voice, ‘I was so afraid you wouldn’t come.’

      ‘Never fear that. I’ll always come if you want me.’

      ‘And I’ll always want you.’

      He had even started to cook a meal for her. He wasn’t a great cook, but he could manage a microwave and between the two of them they managed to get something onto the table. There was much more to deal with this evening, but, as if by a silent signal, they were each taking it slowly.

      ‘So where do we go from here?’ he asked, filling her wine glass. ‘I leave the decision to you because it’s clear you’re several steps ahead of me. All those rabbits you produced out of the hat at the trial. You don’t need me or anyone. You’re queen of all you survey.’

      ‘Hey, stop buttering me up.’

      ‘Just trying to find the way forward, or hoping you can find it for us. There are so many things yet to be decided.’

      ‘Like what?’

      ‘Charlie. His feelings for you. I contrived the situation and, now that he’s fallen for you, how can I just tell him everything has changed and he must forget you?’

      She stroked his face, taking care that he should feel her warmth and tenderness towards him because her words would be a shock.

      ‘You know something?’ she said. ‘Anyone hearing you say that would think you came straight out of the nineteenth century. You’re a real male chauvinist pig.’

      ‘Am I?’ he asked, startled. ‘How?’

      ‘You talk about what you can do, but what about me? Don’t I get a say? You fixed it so that Charlie should come under my influence, like I didn’t have anything to do with it. But maybe I fixed it, oh, powerful one!’

      ‘I guess I deserved that,’ he said gruffly.

      ‘Don’t get me started on what you deserve. And there’s one thing you have to understand. Charlie isn’t in love with me. When we met, he took one look at me and thought Wow!, just as we both meant him to. But it was purely physical. He’s up for new experiences and he pursued me when he thought he might get one. But there was no emotion in it. He’s closer to Ginevra than he is to me. About an hour after the trial she texted me saying, We did it!’

      ‘How did she know?’

      ‘Exactly. Charlie must have called her.’

      ‘Oh, no,’ Roscoe said at once. ‘I won’t have this.’

      ‘But it’s not up to you. You’ve got to let Charlie be himself, not some creature you’ve created.’

      ‘I only want to keep him out of danger. Is that wrong? ‘

      She thought it might be impossible if, as she was beginning to suspect, danger was Charlie’s natural medium. But this wasn’t the time to say so. They had more urgent matters to attend to.

      ‘The point is that Charlie’s not in love with me,’ she repeated, ‘and his heart can’t be broken by us. So we’re free.’

      ‘Free,’ he echoed slowly. ‘Free to—?’

      ‘Free to do anything we want. Be anything we want.’

      ‘Do you have