Timidly, balancing the stack of papers precariously in one hand, Jilly tapped on the doorframe to Matthew’s office and peered into the room. Like the other partners’ offices, a big antique mahogany desk took up much of the space and vertical blinds covered a floor-to-ceiling window. A muted but stunning view of the harbour and Rangitoto Island was visible through the fabric slats. A potted plant stood on the desk next to the window. A peace lily, maybe?
“I have your photocopying.”
Matthew looked up from his desk and smiled, fixing her with those dark eyes that sent a tingle down her spine clear to her toes.
“Thank you,” he rumbled. “If you could just put it here on the desk that would be great.”
Jilly’s heart pounded as she walked just far enough into the spacious room so she could reach to place the documents where he had requested. She felt self-conscious coming in here, like she was invading his personal space or something; like she was crossing boundaries she had no business crossing. Her job didn’t usually entail personal deliveries.
Quickly, she put the papers down and spun on her heel, desperate to get out of there fast. Not only would Janice disapprove of her spending more time than absolutely necessary in Matthew’s office, but Vanessa would want a second-by-second rundown of what his office was like, what he had said, what he had implied, then she’d want to analyse everything and give her more tips on flirting. Besides, Matthew was busy. That much was clear. So the second the papers touched the desk and she was certain they weren’t going to fall over in a big heap on the floor, she turned around and left the room.
* * *
Matthew leaned back in his chair and watched the way her A-line skirt clung to her ass, the sexy sway of her hips as she moved. Damn, she was hot! But that wasn’t what drew him to her the most. She was tiny—even in her stiletto heels she couldn’t have been much more than five foot three—and gave off an air of vulnerability and shyness that he found endearing. The submissive way she spoke, accepting his authority so easily, brought out his protective instincts. When she’d said yes, sir in the lunchroom yesterday, he’d nearly lost it. Did she have any idea what that had done to him? No, he conceded, she probably didn’t. She was simply being polite, making sure she stayed out of trouble. Not like the other woman who had been with her. What was her name again? He couldn’t remember. Maybe he never knew. But she was trouble, that one. An outrageous flirt, far too cocky for his liking. He liked his ladies to be sweet, demure. Just like Jilly seemed to be.
She had long strawberry blonde curls that tumbled down her back, giving her a childlike aura. The light dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks made him smile. Her daughter in the photograph looked exactly the same. Her daughter... but she wore no wedding ring. Was she attached? Not that it mattered, because he wasn’t interested. He couldn’t afford to be interested. Everyone knew the saying: don’t screw the crew.
He glanced through the stack of papers she’d left on his desk, all neatly put together just as he had requested. She was meticulous, that was for sure. Everything had been done exactly as he had asked. Another thing she had going for her: attention to detail. He definitely wanted to get to know her better. Don’t go there, Stevenson. That’s dangerous territory.
Forcing thoughts of Jilly from his head, he turned back to his work.
Chapter Two
“Mummy, I don’t feel so good.” Jilly glanced at the digital clock on her bedside table, the glowing neon green numbers displaying 4.03 a.m. She groaned, reaching out to turn on the bedside lamp just in time to see her daughter throw up in the doorway, vomit spilling all over her pyjamas and the carpet.
No, no, no, this can’t be happening! Frantically, she scrambled out of bed, carefully stepping around the foul-smelling sticky puddle on the floor, and ushered Lily into the bathroom. This was the part of motherhood that Jilly struggled with the most. But putting on a brave face, trying to forget that she’d have to get up in just a couple of short hours, she cleaned up the mess and tended to her little girl, tucking Lily up into bed with her so she could monitor her properly.
Later in the morning, Lily was no better. Her forehead was pale and clammy, she was miserable and sick.
“Don’t leave me, Mummy,” Lily begged as Jilly ran around the house, pulling on clothes, downing coffee, swallowing her pride. She’d have to call her mother. She didn’t want to; the old woman had made it plain what she thought of Jilly having a baby out of wedlock, and her opinions had only gotten louder when Lily’s father had abandoned them when she’d been pregnant and she’d chosen to have the baby by herself.
She’d been a reasonable grandmother since then, showing up with gifts and cuddles when it suited her, but it had always been on her terms. She’d made it clear right from the start that if Jilly was going to ignore her excellent advice and have a baby alone, she could do it truly alone. All by herself. And for the most part, she had. But the timing right now, it just wasn’t going to work. This was a brand new job. A job she couldn’t afford to lose. She’d only been there three months. Not long enough to be eligible for sick leave, or to have accrued any annual leave. And she got the feeling she was already making an enemy of Janice—with Vanessa’s help—so calling
