A Diamond In The Snow. Kate Hardy

But she’d thought it, and she could feel the guilty colour bursting into her cheeks.

      ‘Lighten up. I was teasing, Vicky.’

      ‘Victoria,’ she corrected. Not that she’d offered to be on first name terms with him.

      As if he’d read her mind, he asked, ‘Do your staff normally call you Ms Hamilton?’

      ‘No,’ she admitted.

      ‘But you prefer formality.’

      ‘Nobody shortens my name. Why are you making it a problem?’

      ‘I’m not.’ He looked at her. ‘I need to make friends with your dog and meet the rest of your team. At work tomorrow, would you prefer me to wear a suit or casual clothes?’

      ‘The house is open for visitors tomorrow afternoon,’ she said. ‘But if you’re meeting Humphrey...’ She winced, seeing the mud smeared over his expensive suit.

      ‘How about,’ he said, ‘I wear jeans in the morning so it doesn’t matter if the dog covers me with mud, but I bring a suit for when the house is open? Or do your house stewards wear period costume?’

      ‘You’ll need training before you can be a steward. And we don’t usually wear period dress. But I was thinking about it for the events on the Christmas week,’ she added.

      ‘Good idea,’ he said. ‘It would be an additional visitor attraction.’

      She had a sudden vision of him in Regency dress and went hot all over. Samuel Wetherby could definitely be a visitor attraction. He looked good enough in modern dress; in Regency dress, he’d be stunning. She shook herself. ‘Yes,’ she said, striving to keep her voice cool and calm. ‘OK. I’ll see you tomorrow at nine. If you can give me your registration number, I’ll make the sure the stewards know you’re staff so they won’t ask you to pay for parking.’

      ‘Sure. Do you have paper and a pen?’

      She took a notepad from her drawer and passed it to him. He scribbled the number down for her. ‘Nine o’clock, then.’

      ‘Nine o’clock—and welcome to the team.’ She held out her hand to shake his, and when his skin touched hers it felt almost like an electric shock.

      How ridiculous. She never reacted to anyone like this. And it was completely inappropriate to have the hots for her intern. Even if he was really easy on the eye—tall, with neatly cut dark hair, green eyes and a killer smile. To give herself a tiny bit of breathing space and remind herself that she was his boss for the next week, at the bare minimum, so she had to keep this professional, she took a copy of the house guide book from the shelf behind her and handed it to him.

      ‘Bedtime reading?’ he asked.

      Bedtime. There was a hint of sultriness in his tone. Was he doing this deliberately? A twinkle in his eye made her think that he might be teasing her. And now she felt tongue-tied and stupid. ‘I thought it might be useful background,’ she mumbled.

      ‘It will be.’ He smiled at her. ‘Thank you for giving me a chance.’

      Honestly. He could have charmed his way into any job, not just this one. Part of her wondered if it was some elaborate plot between her parents and his to set them up together; but of course not. A man as gorgeous as Samuel Weatherby had probably been snapped up years ago. Not that she was going to ask if accepting this job would cause a problem with his partner. She didn’t want him to think she was fishing for information. ‘See you tomorrow,’ she said, hating that she didn’t sound anywhere near as businesslike as she should.

      From hedge fund manager to intern. This next bit of his life was going to be like the ancient Chinese curse, Sam thought: interesting. He sent a quick text to his mother to tell her he’d got the job and was just nipping back to London to sort out a few things but would be back later that evening. Then he hooked his phone up to the hands-free system in his car and headed back to London.

      His first call was to his best friend.

      ‘Bit early for you on a Sunday, isn’t it, Sammy?’ Jude asked.

      ‘I’m in Cambridge, so I had an early Saturday night,’ Sam explained.

      ‘Is everything okay?’

      ‘I’m not sure.’ Sam filled him in on the situation.

      ‘Oh, my God. I’m so sorry. How is your dad?’

      ‘Grumpy. Worried sick and not admitting it. And I think Mum’s patience with him is going to wear thin pretty quickly.’ Sam paused. ‘You’d do the same, wouldn’t you?’

      ‘Give up my career and move back home to keep an eye on my parents, you mean?’ Jude asked.

      ‘I was always going to come back to Cambridge and take over the firm from Dad,’ Sam reminded him. ‘It’s just happening a bit sooner than I expected.’

      ‘In your shoes, I’d do the same,’ Jude said.

      Which made Sam feel slightly better about his decision. ‘I’m not putting the flat on the market until the spring, so I can rescue you from the dragon landladies and give you a key so you’ve got somewhere to stay for your West End run, if you like.’

      ‘Are you sure?’

      ‘’Course I’m sure.’

      ‘I can only afford to give you the going landlady rent towards the mortgage,’ Jude warned.

      Sam knew that theatre actors didn’t have the massive salary everyone thought they did. ‘That’s not necessary. I’ll know the flat is being looked after rather than being left empty, and that’s worth more than any rent. But I’m very happy for you to dedicate your first award win to me.’

      Jude laughed. ‘You could be waiting a while. Thanks. I accept. And you’ve more than earned that dedication.’

      ‘I’m heading to London now, to pack. Come and pick up the keys at lunchtime.’

      ‘Will do. And thanks again.’ Jude paused. ‘Have you told your boss?’

      ‘Not yet. That’s the next call.’

      ‘Good luck with that.’

      ‘It’ll be fine,’ Sam said, with a confidence he didn’t quite feel.

      ‘Are you insane?’ was his boss’s reaction when Sam told him he was resigning.

      ‘No.’

      ‘You were supposed to be visiting your parents for the weekend. And I know you haven’t been headhunted, because that kind of news never stays secret for long. Why the hell are you resigning?’

      ‘Confidentially, Nigel?’ Sam asked. ‘And I mean it. Not a word to anyone.’

      Nigel sighed. ‘All right. Tell me.’

      ‘Dad was rushed into hospital this week. Mum didn’t tell me until I got home. It was a mini-stroke and he seems OK now, but if he doesn’t slow down he could have a full-blown stroke. I need to be here to keep an eye on them both.’

      ‘Fine—then take a sabbatical until your father’s well again.’

      ‘I can’t do that. It’s permanent. I’m not coming back,’ Sam said. ‘If I’d been headhunted, I’d be on three months of garden leave with immediate effect, according to my contract.’ Which gave him the three months in which he needed to convince his father that he wasn’t reckless.

      Then it hit him. Of course, his father would know about the clause giving three months’ garden leave; that was obviously why Alan had specified three months working in an ‘ordinary’ job.

      ‘You haven’t been headhunted,’ Nigel pointed out.

      ‘But I’m going to take over the family business from Dad,’ Sam said, ‘so that counts as