At His Service: His 9-5 Secretary: The Billionaire Boss's Secretary Bride / The Secretary's Secret / Memo: Marry Me?. Michelle Celmer

      When he said, ‘Including this one?’ she breathed out twice before lifting her eyes.

      ‘Meaning?’ she asked quietly, amazed she could sound so cool when there was an inferno inside.

      ‘I need your help.’

      ‘Oh?’ She nodded. ‘To take the puppies to the sanctuary? I’ve already said I’ll come with you.’ The inferno was out, deluged by stark reality. He was a rich, intelligent and hugely gorgeous man. Of course he wasn’t interested in her.

      ‘Not exactly.’ Another brief pause. ‘I’ve decided to keep them.’

      ‘What?’ She genuinely thought she’d misheard him. He couldn’t possibly have said what she thought he had said.

      ‘The puppies, I’m going to keep them.’ He ate a large chunk of flan with every appearance of enjoyment. ‘I already rang Mrs Rothman this morning to tell her she needn’t come in today because I was going to be around, and I asked her if she’d be prepared to extend her days from Monday to Friday, essentially to be here from ten to four each day, to take care of them for the large part of the time I’m away.’

      ‘And she said yes?’

      ‘On the proviso she could bring her own dogs any time her husband isn’t able to be home.’

      ‘But—’

      ‘What?’

      ‘Well, I hate to coin a phrase, but dogs are for life, not just for Christmas. You talked of travelling some more, moving abroad, no—no responsibilities.’ She stared at him, utterly in shock. This wasn’t the Harry she knew. ‘You can’t have them for a while and then dump them at some sanctuary or other in a year or two. That wouldn’t be fair. And four of them!’

      Her voice had risen the more she’d spoken, and now she was aware of Harry settling back in his chair and surveying her over the top of his glass. ‘You don’t think much of me, do you?’ he drawled mildly.

      If you only knew, she thought for the second time that morning.

      ‘I don’t intend to dump them, as you so graphically put it. Not in a year or two, not ever. The poor little scraps have gone down that road once, and once is enough for any poor mutt. I’ve decided to take them on, and that means for life. OK?’

      Not OK. So not OK. Feeling the world had shifted on its axis, Gina tried again. ‘Harry, travelling or moving to another country is one thing, but something else entirely with four dogs in tow.’

      ‘I do actually know that.’

      She ignored the edge to his voice. ‘I don’t think you do.’

      ‘I’ve decided to stay put, Gina.’

      ‘What?’ She blinked.

      Her astonishment caused his anger to vanish like smoke, and now he grinned. ‘Don’t know me as well as you think you do, eh?’ There was immense satisfaction in his voice. ‘It’s not just a woman’s prerogative to change her mind. I’ve decided I’d go a long way before I found another house like this one, and it suits me. England suits me.’

      ‘But you said—’

      ‘Excuse me,’ he interrupted mildly, ‘But wasn’t it you who was saying this house was a beautiful empty shell?’

      Her eyes met his. Touché, she thought with a mixture of irritation and gratification. Irritation that he always had an answer for everything, and gratification that her words had obviously registered. ‘I wasn’t recommending that you fill it with a pack of dogs.’

      ‘And I probably wouldn’t have considered it myself right at this moment in time, but for fate taking a hand,’ he admitted. ‘But the grounds are extensive, they say dogs are the best burglar deterrent there is, and I rather like the idea of keeping the four of them together after all that’s happened. I’ll give Mrs Rothman a hefty pay rise for the extra work they’ll involve until they’re house-trained and so on, and with her ever-increasing brood of grandchildren the money will come in handy.’

      Gina bit her lip. This was ridiculous. ‘Keep one or perhaps two, if you must,’ she said slowly, unable to believe he could have had such a radical change of heart regarding the future and his plans to travel. ‘But not all of them.’

      ‘Why not?’

      She couldn’t very well say she didn’t believe him when he’d spoken of staying put. ‘Four times the amount of mess and trouble?’ she prevaricated.

      ‘Four times the amount of fun and pleasure.’

      She frowned. ‘Four times the amount of squabbling and barking?’

      ‘Four times the amount of canine love.’

      He waited for her to continue, one dark brow raised. Gina mentally conceded defeat. It was true the dogs would have a wonderful life here, with the huge garden and each other—doggy paradise—but … ‘Dogs shouldn’t be left alone all day.’

      ‘I thought I’d explained, they won’t be,’ he said with elaborate patience. ‘Weekends I’m home, I might even arrange things so I work from home some mornings, and Mrs Rothman will be around for most of the time I’m out.’ He seemed amused. ‘I thought you’d congratulate me for taking some responsibility after your scathing words yesterday.’

      ‘They weren’t scathing.’ She averted her gaze to the hyacinths. She supposed they had been.

      ‘No? I’d hate to be in the firing line if you really get the bit between your teeth, then.’

      She should never have agreed to stay the night, Gina told herself miserably, every nerve in her body as tight as piano wire at the closeness of him. ‘Harry, you must do as you please,’ she said quietly after a few moments had ticked by. ‘This is nothing to do with me.’

      ‘I guess not,’ Harry said levelly. ‘It’s just that I’ve an appointment with the local vet this afternoon. I want him to look the puppies over and start their inoculations, if he thinks they’re old enough. I was going to ask you to stay long enough to help me with them. I thought you might help me choose some bedding, leads, collars, that sort of thing, and of course I need to pick up some food and so on.’

      She stared at him, feeling slightly hysterical. Today was supposed to have been spent clearing out the flat of the last bits and pieces, ready to spring-clean it from top to bottom before the new occupants took over on Saturday. She’d arranged to leave work on Wednesday evening so she had two clear days to sort everything out. Now that was already severely curtailed, and he was asking her for more of her time. This was utterly unreasonable and the whole situation was surreal. Harry didn’t do permanence, dependability and personal responsibility, not where other people—or, rather, females—were concerned. But then these weren’t people, they were dogs.

      ‘Eat your food.’ His voice came quiet and steady. ‘I’ll take you home after lunch. I shouldn’t have asked.’

      No, he shouldn’t. And she shouldn’t be considering his request for one second. She swallowed, her tongue stumbling over her words as she said, ‘Are you absolutely sure you want to keep them? Have you really considered what you’re taking on? It’ll mean twelve, thirteen years of commitment, maybe longer. Have you really changed your mind so completely from yesterday, Harry? I … I need to know.’

      He looked back at her, and she was aware that a tiny detached part of her mind was thinking that the hard angles of his chiselled face and body made him look older than his thirty-three years. But then he had the sort of bone structure that was ageless; at fifty, sixty, he’d still probably give the impression of being in his forties.

      He reached across and took her hand as though he had the perfect right to touch her, and she had to remind herself the gesture was an expression of the easy friendship he felt for her as a sharp tingle shot up her arm with the power of an electric