The Beautiful Widow. HELEN BROOKS

      ‘Mrs George?’

      The deep, slightly husky voice brought her out of the darkness. She blinked. He wanted an answer to his question. Following on from her thoughts, she said hesitantly, ‘I—I suppose I’m out of practice regarding interviews and selling myself.’

      Even if she hadn’t realised instantly the last words weren’t the best she could have chosen, the way the carved lips twitched slightly would have told her, but his voice was soothing when he murmured, ‘Not at all. You’ve done an excellent job.’

      Her soft brown eyes sharpened. She didn’t know how to take that. She didn’t know how to take him. When James had rung her she’d done a little research of her own on the powerhouse that was Steel Landry. She’d wished she hadn’t afterwards; it had made her more nervous. A human dynamo. Hard but fair. Relentless and unmovable when he wanted something. Severely lacking in the milk of human kindness. Admittedly that last had been from a disgruntled ex-employee who hadn’t been up to the position for which he had been employed, but nevertheless it had been unsettling.

      ‘Drink your cocktail, Mrs George,’ he said smoothly, ‘and stop worrying. You’ve got the job if you want it, OK?’

      ‘I have?’ Her eyes opened wide with startled pleasure. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much, Mr Landry.’

      ‘You accept?’ he asked, as though there had ever been a chance she might refuse. ‘Good. In that case we can do away with the Mr Landry and Mrs George. The name’s Steel.’

      ‘But—’ She stopped, not knowing how to continue.

      ‘What?’

      ‘You—you’re my boss,’ she stammered stupidly.

      The crystal eyes crinkled. ‘Did you call James by his surname?’ he asked mildly, finishing his cocktail.

      ‘No, but—’ She paused. ‘That—that’s different.’

      ‘Why? He was your boss, wasn’t he?’

      Yes, but James hadn’t been the head of a small empire worth umpteen millions, and neither had he been drop-dead gorgeous. ‘Things were quite informal at James’s practice,’ she said weakly.

      He nodded. ‘And my employees who work closely with me enjoy that same privilege; my secretary, for example, and my financial director to name but two. This is a new project and I’ll want to be involved at every stage so you’ll be working particularly hand in glove with me. Steel and Toni will do just fine.’

      Toni was kicking herself for objecting. Whatever must he be thinking? He’d just surprised her, that was all. Pulling herself together, she said quickly, ‘Of course. Thank you. Thank you so much. I won’t let you down, I promise.’

      ‘Believe me, Toni, if I had any doubt about that I wouldn’t be offering you the job.’

      She did believe him, and strangely his belief in her was both uplifting and scary at the same time. Uplifting because her self-confidence had taken the mother and father of a knock over the last months, scary because the pressure to show him he’d been right to give her the job had suddenly increased a hundredfold just with hearing him say her name. Silly. Irrational. Emotions a man like Steel Landry would despise.

      She raised her chin in a businesslike manner and assumed a look she prayed was professional. ‘When would you like me to start?’

      ‘We’ll discuss the details over dinner, including salary,’ he said gently.

      The reminder that she hadn’t even asked the basics before accepting the position brought telltale colour to her cheeks again, but this time she didn’t falter. She even managed to inject a suggestion of sophisticated amusement into her tone when she said, ‘I’ve always adhered to the idea you get what you are prepared to pay for in this world.’

      ‘Is that so?’ he said silkily, his eyes intent on her flushed face. ‘Then I hope your salary buys everything I need from you, Toni …’

      CHAPTER THREE

      TONI WAS ETERNALLY grateful that Maggie chose to knock on the door and announce dinner was ready the moment after Steel had spoken. She wasn’t sure if he’d put a different connotation to her words than that which she’d intended—it could just be her fevered imagination—but as he rose and ushered her out of the sitting room with a cool hand in the small of her back she knew her cheeks were burning afresh.

      She had expected to eat in a formal dining room, so when he led the way out onto a spectacular roof terrace she caught her breath in surprise. The terrace was laid out as a dining room and living space with stylish furniture; olive, eucalyptus and silver birch trees in huge white pots surrounding the perimeter all underplanted with a mix of grasses, lavender, iris, allium and other plants creating a vista reminiscent of woodland and Mediterranean scenes. The glass balustrade kept the space serene and light-filled as well as enabling the view to be appreciated, a view that seemed to take in the whole of Kensington. The dining table had been made from a slab of white Carrara marble and was a thing of beauty in itself, and the exterior sofas and easy chairs on the other side of the terrace to the dining suite were grouped round a marble coffee table with a builtin fireplace.

      Toni stood, completely stunned, her artistic antenna quivering as her mind and senses struggled to take in what she was seeing. ‘This is beautiful.’ She breathed out the words slowly. ‘Absolutely beautiful. Who designed it?’

      His smile had a self-mocking edge. ‘I did.’

      ‘You?’

      Her amazement wasn’t exactly complimentary but fortunately he seemed more amused than offended. ‘I can appreciate beauty as much as the next man,’ he murmured as he pulled out one of the dining chairs for her to sit down, ‘in spite of being that most crass of creatures, a property developer.’

      ‘But if you can do this why wouldn’t you want to plan and carry out your own ideas on this new venture?’ she asked, stroking the fine marble under her fingers. The table was set for two with silver cutlery and crystal galore, a bowl of white lilies scenting the warm evening air.

      He didn’t answer immediately, walking round to the other side of the table and reaching for the wine in the ice bucket. ‘I thought champagne was in order as this is a celebration.’ He passed her a glass full of the sparkling liquid and poured one for himself, raising it as he said, ‘To a long and happy working relationship.’

      She could second that. ‘Thank you.’ She didn’t actually like champagne, she’d always found it too much on the dry side for her taste buds, but as she took a sip of the effervescent bubbles she realised there was champagne and champagne, and this one was like nothing she’d tasted before. Honey, strawberries, summer days and lazy nights, they were all there in the delicious and no doubt wildly expensive wine.

      ‘And in answer to your question regarding why I need you, Toni,’ he went on softly, ‘this terrace is a one-off as far as I’m concerned. I knew what I wanted so it was easy, even though it took me two months of intensive planning and the odd sleepless night when work commenced, but I wouldn’t want to think up ideas for someone else, time after time.’

      The boredom factor again, she thought intuitively. He was indeed a restless spirit. What had made him that way? Bringing her thoughts back into line, she glanced round her surroundings again as she said, ‘I can see this must have cost you a great deal of money. You said you want the best for these new apartments; do you mean going this far if necessary?’

      ‘Absolutely.’

      Now they were sitting down the trees and foliage provided a privacy that was curiously intimate; a small green world up in the sky with only the odd London bird to spy on the occupants below. Toni was vitally aware of this as he leant forward slightly, speaking with an intensity she was almost sure he was unaware of when he went on, ‘It’s important this first phase has an impact, and money is no object—my buyers will be able to afford it. Each apartment