Glass Slippers And Unicorns - Carole Mortimer

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      The hard lines of his face tightened even more. ‘I was angry when I said that, Darcy,’ he grated. ‘I didn’t mean it.’

      ‘Didn’t you?’ she said dully, knowing that at the time he had said it he had meant every word.

      ‘No.’ He grimaced, moving to stand next to her desk. ‘You’re a damned good secretary, better than I——’ He broke off, sighing impatiently.

      ‘Better than you ever thought I would be,’ Darcy finished for him ruefully. ‘I manage, as long as I only concentrate on one thing at a time,’ she added bitterly.

      ‘Darcy——’

      ‘At least, I thought I was quite competent.’ She frowned uncertainly.

      ‘You are,’ Reed acknowledged forcefully. ‘Hell, I’m not making a very good job of this apology.’ He ran a hand through his already tousled black hair. ‘My only defence for my behaviour towards you earlier is that I was worried out of my mind.’ He gave a weary sigh. ‘You’ve seen my mother at her worst; you can guess why!’

      Yes, she could guess why, quite easily. Reed was a man who made important decisions in a matter of seconds, who gambled on the Stock Exchange in millions rather than hundreds, and his mother’s vagueness must be quite an irritation to such a man. But how could she explain to him that her own forgetfulness had been acquired and wasn’t part of her fundamental character? She couldn’t do it without going into the past, and so she knew she would never tell him.

      ‘Does this mean you don’t want me to leave?’ She frowned.

      ‘Of course I don’t want you to leave,’ he dismissed impatiently. ‘Do you accept my apology?’

      Now wasn’t the time to point out that he hadn’t actually got around to making one, not if she wanted to continue working for him. And she did want to continue doing that, very much.

      ‘Of course.’ She smiled her forgiveness. ‘Would you like me to take your mother to your apartment now? I’m sure she would like to rest.’

      ‘She would.’ He nodded tersely. ‘But I’ll take her.’ His expression darkened as her eyes shadowed over with pain. ‘It has nothing to do with the fact that between the two of you you would probably forget where you’re going,’ he refuted impatiently. ‘As she only has today in England this end of her trip, I think I should spend a little time with her.’

      ‘Of course,’ Darcy acknowledged noncommittally.

      ‘Darcy——’

      ‘Reed, could we go to Harrods on the way to your apartment?’ His mother came out of his office. ‘I want to buy some tea to take back with me.’

      ‘Wouldn’t it be better if you waited until you get back from the cruise before doing that?’ he suggested after shooting a resigned look in Darcy’s direction. ‘You won’t need it until then.’

      ‘I suppose not.’ She nodded thoughtfully, going to the door he held open for her. ‘Maybe we can look at the coffee instead?’ she suggested hopefully.

      ‘Doesn’t the same thing apply?’ he pointed out drily.

      ‘Oh, yes.’ She frowned her chagrin. ‘Well, couldn’t we— Bye, Darcy,’ she called out belatedly as Reed followed her from the office. ‘It was lovely meeting you. I hope I see you again before I go back to the States.’

      Darcy had time to lift a hand in parting to the other woman before Reed firmly closed the door behind them, his face having taken on a hunted look as his mother suggested other shopping she would like to do while she was in London.

      Darcy slumped back in her chair once they had gone, knowing now that Reed would never ever see her as a woman he could desire, that with her own single-minded forgetfulness she reminded him too forcibly of the vague mother he obviously adored but had no patience for! He might pity her, but he would never desire her.

      It was a stunning realisation for the woman who loved him more than life itself, who had felt that way about him from the first night they met.

       CHAPTER TWO

      WEAR your sexiest dress, Marc had told her. She didn’t own any sexy dresses, although she had several she had bought to go on business trips with Reed, when acting as his hostess was often necessary; classically designed dresses that were suitable for any occasion. She had taken the black dress she wore tonight the last time they went away together, and for all the notice Reed had taken of her the material might just as well not have clung to her every curve so that the minimum of underwear could be worn beneath it.

      Reed just didn’t see her as a woman, only as his secretary. And she had loved him from the moment he had arrived at the office building in answer to the night security man’s call that night not quite seven months ago. He had seemed amused by the mistake she had made then, had taken her out to dinner so that they could conduct the interview. After only managing to get four interviews in the two months she had been in London, and only being short-listed for one of those, she had found Reed’s relaxed way of interviewing her highly enjoyable.

      She had told him about her family, being her parents’ only child, talked confidently of her last two jobs, her five years at the bank and the three months as a family helper to a widower and his three children, had shrugged off his surprise at the complete change of career she had made by telling him she had quickly realised it had been a mistake. He had told her how he sympathised with that, how after moving to America with his English mother, American father, two sisters and a brother at the age of ten he had been urged by his father to enter into a sporting career but had found the excitement of high finance much more to his taste. They had talked like old friends, and at the end of their meal Darcy had been so bemused by him that she had left the table wearing only one shoe! That had been when she had told him, in her embarrassment, about the dozen unmatched shoes in her wardrobe, because of her habit of slipping off her shoes while she ate and forgetting to put them both back, always feeling too embarrassed to go back to the restaurant and ask for her left shoe back! After meeting his mother today she was surprised Reed had still given her the job after she had told him that!

      She knew for certain the love she felt for him would never be reciprocated.

      And in the meantime there was Marc. Five years younger than Reed, at thirty, he was also much less intense; their dates were always fun and entertaining, Marc accepting the way she occasionally forgot things with a casualness that spoke of tolerant affection. She hoped it wasn’t more than that, because Reed occupied all of her heart.

      ‘Where are we going?’ she asked with suspicion as Marc kept turning to grin at her as he drove.

      ‘My apartment.’

      ‘Your apartment!’ Her eyes were wide.

      ‘Yes,’ he confirmed with relish. ‘I’m going to throw you down on the bed and have my wicked way with you!’

      ‘Marc …?’

      ‘You should see your face!’ He laughed at her nervousness. The open-necked brown shirt and fitted trousers he wore were casual but smart. ‘You’re so easy to tease,’ he chuckled. ‘I can assure you I don’t intend having an audience the first time I make love to you.’

      ‘Audience? But— First time you make love to me …?’ she repeated in a squeaky voice, as the second part of his statement was absorbed.

      This time he gave a shout of laughter. ‘Fun to be with, too,’ he told her warmly. ‘After spending the day with women who take their clothes off for me as soon as they get in the door, your naïveté is totally refreshing!’

      She knew that a lot of the work Marc did was for magazines and advertising, that very often it involved scantily clad women parading about his studio most of the day. In fact, the first time she had taken

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