LITMIR.BIZ

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give Derek a day’s grace to get his act together, and tomorrow morning first thing they’d have a meeting of their own, when Conall would lay out the options as he saw them before him.

      Basically, the man had to agree to professional help or walk. There were already outrageous sums of money being wasted on this project through one discrepancy or another, as far as he could see, and Conall was damn sure his firm weren’t going to help his client lose any more. Apart from that, they had an international reputation to protect—and protect it he would.

      ‘Some more coffee would be good.’ Feebly, Derek smiled and held out his mug.

      Morgen relieved him of it and turned back into the kitchen. As she poured strong black coffee near enough to the brim her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten a thing since dinner last night. Right on cue, her head started to throb. Too much coffee, not enough sleep and no food were not the best of combinations to aid health and vitality, she thought wryly, wondering when she’d find time to even eat the tuna sandwich her mother had put in her bag that morning. She prayed it would be soon, or she wouldn’t be much help to anyone.

      Poor Derek. ‘Dreadful’ didn’t even begin to describe how he looked. ‘Walking dead’ was possibly more apt. Like a made-up extra in one of those old Hammer Horrors. There was no way he’d be any use in the office today; surely Conall could see that?

      Hovering in the doorway while Derek manfully drank down his coffee, Morgen felt her nerves bounce badly every time her gaze connected with Conall O’Brien’s. There was no doubt he was a formidable man, but he’d actually been much more lenient with Derek than she’d expected. She could have sworn she’d even glimpsed sympathy in his eyes every now and then as Derek had fumbled and stuttered an explanation as to how he had got himself into such a sorry state—but perhaps her senses had been deceiving her. Conall and sympathy just seemed to be the complete antithesis of each other. The man clearly judged having personal problems as some kind of major weakness.

      Finally, glancing at his watch, he reached for his jacket on the back of the sofa and addressed Morgen directly. ‘We’d better get back. I think Derek would be best served by sleeping off some of his excesses for the afternoon and coming into the office tomorrow instead. I’ve booked a four o’clock meeting with the contractors at Docklands, and you can come with me and provide back-up—fill me in on anything I’m not familiar with. You okay with that, Miss McKenzie?’

      Normally Morgen wouldn’t be fazed by such a prospect—she often accompanied Derek to site meetings—but this one was a biggie, and Derek had left the firm wide open to criticism by his absence and unwillingness to return phone calls. Consequently, as his assistant, Morgen had taken most of the flak. She’d been fending off irate telephone calls for days now, and she was certain it would become quickly evident to the gimlet-eyed senior partner of O’Brien and Stoughton Associates that a lot less had been accomplished on the project than he had a right to expect.

      Suddenly a cuddle and a bedtime story with her lovely Neesha seemed even further away than it had this morning. Something told Morgen that this particular meeting would stretch well into the evening.

      ‘That’s fine with me, Mr O’Brien.’

      ‘Leave the booze alone, Holden, and get an early night. If you want to keep your job, be in the office at nine tomorrow morning and we’ll talk.’

      Getting unsteadily to his feet, Derek threw a panic-stricken glance at Morgen as he followed them out into the hall to the front door. He was like a little lost boy, she thought, looking for her to save him. She turned away at the too familiar feeling, resenting it suddenly, but Conall didn’t miss the brief warm smile of consolation she flashed back at the man.

      He imagined what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of one of those gorgeous smiles himself. Pretty damn good, he reflected as she breezed past him out onto the stairwell, leaving a trail of her mesmerising scent. As she marched ahead of him back to the car his gaze locked onto those trim sexy calves in pale stockings and low heels and he knew he had a bad case of lust at first sight. The problem, as he saw it, was: what did he intend to do about it?

      ‘I’m going back to my sister’s place to get a shower and a shave. Can you hold the fort until I get back?’

      Her backbone stiffening, Morgen flashed Conall an irritated glance. What did he think she’d been doing for the past six months while Derek slid further and further down the slippery slope of depression? Hiding in a cupboard?

      ‘I’m sure I’ll manage somehow.’ Ripping her gaze away from his unwanted scrutiny, she wished she wasn’t so acutely aware of the intimate confines of the luxurious car, with its cream leather upholstery and connotations of wealth and power.

      ‘Why did his wife leave him?’

      Conall’s question took Morgen completely by surprise. Her hand was on the door handle beside her, but she withdrew it onto her lap, tucking her hair behind her ear as she spoke.

      ‘He said she couldn’t cope with his success. She was trying to forge her own career as a singer and felt that Derek didn’t support her enough. They came from very different backgrounds, and in the end I suppose they just wanted different things. The differences just became too much to withstand—for Nicky anyway.’

      Shrugging, she stared down at her own ringless hands, fighting off the unexpected sense of failure that suddenly descended on her out of nowhere. She didn’t want to think about Simon, her ex-husband, but her last two sentences might have been describing their own disastrous union—brief though it had been. He had been an ex-pupil of Eton, one of the foremost public schools in the country, then gone on to medical school. When Morgen had met him he’d just been promoted to a registrar’s job at Guy’s Hospital, and his charm and total self-confidence had swept her away.

      His parents were wealthy and his father, an eminent heart surgeon, had been knighted in the Queen’s honours list. Morgen hadn’t exactly received the red carpet treatment from his family, and straight from the off she’d known she wasn’t good enough for their darling Simon. How could she be? She’d gone to a mixed comprehensive in South London, then trained as a secretary at a local technical college. Her father had been a bricklayer and her mother a school secretary. It went without saying that her family had hardly moved in the same illustrious circles the Vaughan-Smiths had frequented.

      ‘These things happen.’ Not taking his eyes from her, Conall wondered what she was thinking. ‘He’ll have to get over it soon. Especially if he wants to keep his job.’

      ‘Derek isn’t deliberately sabotaging his future. The man is in a lot of pain, for goodness’ sake!’

      Fielding off the frosty stare that accompanied Morgen’s words, Conall knew she was probably thinking he was a hard bastard—someone who didn’t give a damn about the people who worked for him as long as they helped the firm turn a profit. The truth was that he cared passionately about bringing out the best in people, and was only too happy to share the fruits of his own success with them when they did. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be tough when he had to be…ruthless, even.

      As far as he could see Derek Holden had wallowed in his own self-pity long enough. If something were not done about that soon, it wouldn’t just be the man’s job that went down the pan, it would be his life. O’Brien and Stoughton could easily hire another architect, but Derek couldn’t be brought back from the dead.

      ‘I’m well aware that the man needs help—professional help. In the meantime I’ll be taking over things for a little while. You’ll be working directly for me, Miss McKenzie. Think you can handle that?’

      He couldn’t help needling her, if only to see her react. Her captivating face instantly revealed her unhappiness. Her emotions were laid bare, and Conall realised it wasn’t easy for her to don the civil mask of control that professionalism required. Not when in reality she was in turmoil. Inexplicably he felt himself warm to her in a way he hadn’t warmed to a woman in a long time. And the prospect of being ‘hands on’ in the office while Derek took a necessary sabbatical—with Morgen as his assistant—suddenly

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