Macgowan Meets His Match. Annette Broadrick

on my work. What you do on your own time is up to you. Just so we’re clear about our arrangement, I’m not looking for a personal relationship with you. I don’t have time for flirting or any of that nonsense. I need a skilled assistant. That’s all.”

      Jenna fought to hang on to her temper. Fighting for control, she studied the man, allowing her gaze to slide over him from his curls to his rather large feet. Eventually she raised her eyes to meet his and said, “Tell me, Sir Ian, are you always this obnoxious or did I luck out and catch you on a bad day? I can’t for the life of me imagine why you think that I—or any other self-respecting woman, for that matter—would be interested in having a relationship with you.”

      He looked startled for a moment, then gave her a boyish grin that was wholly unexpected…and devastatingly attractive. “You’ll do, Ms. Craddock. You’ll do.” Before she could find her voice to tell him that she wasn’t at all certain she wished to work for him, Ian mentioned a salary that made her eyes widen. The sum was at least twice what she’d expected to receive, taking into account that her room and board were part of the compensation. For that amount of money, she’d be willing to work for Attila the Hun. From what she had gathered so far, the man could very well be the reincarnation of Attila.

      “I hope you’ll find your stay here satisfactory,” he said. He stood, wincing as he straightened his left leg. “I’ll have Hazel show you to your room.”

      He touched a button on the extension phone next to his chair and Jenna heard Hazel’s voice. “Yes?”

      “I believe Ms. Craddock and I have dealt with the necessary hiring procedures. Will you show her to her room, please?”

      “Certainly.”

      Jenna rose and walked to the door. When she opened it, she saw Hazel striding down the hallway toward her. As Jenna stepped through the doorway, Ian spoke again. “Ms. Craddock?”

      She turned. “Yes?”

      “Do I have your permission to call you Jenna?”

      She doubted the sincerity of his conciliatory tone. With a regal nod, she answered, “Yes.”

      His lips twitched. “Well, then, welcome aboard, Jenna. I would appreciate your returning as soon as you’ve settled in. I hope you won’t feel too rushed to begin working today. As you’re aware, I’ve been without help for some time.”

      She lifted one brow and said, “Imagine that,” before quietly closing the door behind her.

      Chapter Four

      Ian drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair and stared into the fire as he waited for Jenna Craddock.

      He’d never met anyone like her and he hadn’t expected her to be so young.

      When he’d spoken to Violet Spradlin many weeks ago, he’d made it clear that he wanted a competent, no-nonsense assistant. He’d pictured a middle-aged woman who did what she was hired to do. Someone dependable…like Hazel. Most of the women he’d interviewed fit that description.

      The last thing he’d expected was a petite woman with sparkling eyes and a charming smile. Not that she’d been smiling by the time their meeting was over, he reminded himself. She might as well learn that he didn’t have time for social chitchat. He had a busy schedule, what with his physical therapy three times a week, the exercises he needed to do to get back in top form and working on his novel.

      He’d been grateful to have something besides pain to occupy his mind these past months. Who would have believed that he would find enjoyment doing something so out of his professional field? But he’d always been an avid reader. He wasn’t certain when he first thought about writing a book—probably during one of the nights when pain kept him awake. Whatever the reason for beginning the project, he was hooked.

      He’d had no idea what he was doing when he started out, but somehow he began to realize what he wanted to say. He would revise, and revise again, until the story read more like the one he could hear in his head.

      Life was full of surprises.

      Jenna Craddock was one of them.

      Her looks should be irrelevant but he’d turned into something of a hermit since the accident. His only visitor was Hal, his physical therapist, who irritated him to no end, always harping about not overdoing it.

      He would do whatever was necessary to get back to top form. He’d devoted twelve years of his life to his job, and he wouldn’t allow his injuries to put an end to his career.

      That career didn’t leave him time to develop a relationship with a woman. Therefore, he’d never been seriously involved with anyone. One woman went so far as to point out that he was married to his career, “whatever it was.” All she knew was that two to three months would pass without word from him. There were very few women willing to see him on his schedule.

      His mother had already despaired of becoming a grandmother, he thought, amused. Not that she ever gave up haranguing him about the notion. He’d tried to convince her that he couldn’t find another woman like her, but she would have none of it.

      Now he was faced with a situation where he’d become unavoidably celibate. The last thing he needed was a nubile young woman around him on a daily basis as a constant reminder of what he was missing.

      He would work around the problem, that’s all. He’d make certain to maintain a professional relationship with her. Since he took most of his meals in his room anyway, he doubted he’d see her when she wasn’t working.

      The important thing was to finish the novel. Once it was done, she would be leaving. Another spur to finish the novel as rapidly as possible. If by some fluke he actually sold the thing—and what a long chance that was—he intended to use the money for needed repairs to his home.

      In his case his home really was a castle—a money-gobbling anachronism. He preferred his flat in London. As his parents were wont to remind him, though, his home was a monument to the past and was his legacy as a MacGowan.

      Lucky him.

      The Security Service continued to pay him his full salary, which he appreciated.

      Ian glanced at his watch. He hoped Jenna would stay until the book was finished. Afterward, he would no longer need her…or anyone else.

      Jenna followed Hazel as they turned down yet another hallway from the top of the stairs.

      The stairs continued to the next floor. She’d seen photographs of five-star hotels no larger than this place. Antique weapons and paintings of men in kilts and women wrapped in the bold plaid of the MacGowans decorated the walls.

      Sconces provided light in the dim hallways, and Jenna almost laughed out loud at the sudden image of being locked away in a Gothic castle with a beast. Her active imagination had helped her survive the uncertainties of her childhood and it continued to flourish. She reminded herself that, since she was no beauty, she doubted she would be living out that particular fairy tale.

      “This place is huge,” she murmured.

      “I know,” Hazel replied, “but you’ll get used to it. All but this wing are closed, which is a shame, really, with so much history on display. The historical society has asked more than once for permission to bring tours through the unused parts of the castle. I’ve pointed out to Ian that the added income would help to keep up with the maintenance. But he tells them no. He says he doesn’t want to stumble over strangers in his own home.”

      “It must take an army to keep up with the cleaning.”

      Hazel chuckled. “As a matter of fact, it does. Periodically we have several of the women in the village come in and do the heavy cleaning. Two of them come in on a weekly basis to clean this section.”

      “I feel fortunate to be able to live here.”

      “Oh, it would be too much to ask you to commute from one of the villages when we have all this room. I’m