Boss Meets Baby(131)



That kind of pure, untainted love was a million miles from Keir’s own experience. That was why he knew deep down in his soul that he couldn’t expect their affair to go any further once the time came for her to leave. He wasn’t the man for her…no. She deserved someone much more whole and psychologically intact than he was…

‘I’m sorry that you and your brother had such an unhappy time when you were young, and I’m sorry your father was so cruel. I can’t imagine what that must have been like. I only ever knew love and kindness from my own parents when they were alive. Was that why you told me not to judge a book by its cover when I first came here? Because this house doesn’t hold happy memories for you even though it’s so beautiful?’

She was regarding him with what Keir could only describe as infinite tenderness in her lovely greengold— gaze, and he couldn’t deny the almost overwhelming— wave of warmth that flooded his heart in response. Yet at the same time he knew it was dangerous— to keep succumbing so easily to the compassion— and caring that Georgia so naturally displayed. One day soon he would have to live in this house without her, and he’d better not encourage her to become more involved in his personal life than she was already. Ultimately it would be easier for them both if she didn’t.

‘I’m sorry…’ He put a hand on her back and indicated— she should get up. ‘I really have a lot of work to do, and enticing as you are…I can’t afford any more distractions today.’

To Georgia, Keir’s words were akin to somebody throwing a bucket of ice water down her back. Just when he had been opening up to her, sharing some of the pain of his past, he had all too suddenly closed down again and shut her out. Even though they had slept together. Was he subtly reminding her that she was after all only his secretary—and a temporary one at that? He was Laird—an important man in his community—and— when he finally decided to settle down with a woman it would no doubt be with someone from his own class and background. The sooner Georgia accepted that and divested herself of any secret hopes she might entertain of becoming closer to Keir the better.

On her feet again, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and nodded towards the glimpse of white bandage beneath his sleeve. ‘What about your dressing? I really think I should change it for you.’

‘It can wait until later.’

‘I only want you to be more comfortable.’

‘I’m fine. Like I said…we have a lot to do, and the work won’t get done by itself.’

Pursing her lips, Georgia turned regretfully away. ‘Okay…But nobody can say I didn’t try…’

The last thing she had expected was an invitation—though— it was more akin to a command—to join Keir at the dinner party on Saturday evening.

For the past couple of days he had been kind enough towards her, but there had been no more incidents like the one when he’d spontaneously pulled her onto his lap and kissed her, and—more pertinently—no— late-night visits to her bedroom.

Georgia knew she wasn’t imagining the distance he seemed to be deliberately putting between them. Telling herself that he must badly regret making love to her, she barely knew how she kept herself sane—but— reverting to her usual saviour of hard work helped. And when she wasn’t working alongside Keir in his study she helped Moira and the other staff in the kitchen, or ran errands for the household into Lochheel or Dundee.

She’d begun to understand that this dinner party was to be a bit of a ‘statement’ for the new Laird. Not only had he returned to Glenteign when he’d always vowed he wouldn’t, but he’d also acted like a new broom—first getting the administrative side of the household up to scratch and inspiring new confidence— in his staff, and secondly organising the bold new designs for the formal gardens.

Moira had told Georgia that the house had never looked as beautiful, and the younger woman believed her. Everywhere she looked polished surfaces gleamed, carpets and floors had been swept and vacuumed to within an inch of their lives, picture frames had been dusted, artefacts and ornaments fairly sparkled with the loving devotion they’d received, and the dining room and drawing room of a duke or a king could not have looked as decoratively elegant, she was convinced.

Georgia felt a bit like Cinderella learning that she was going to the ball. Now she’d realised how important— this event was to Keir in terms of his reputation— and standing in the community, she decided she couldn’t let him down by borrowing the same dress she’d worn to the classical concert shortly after she’d arrived. So she went into Dundee early on Saturday afternoon and, after a frustrating two hours of not finding anything she particularly liked or could afford, found the most exquisite black cocktail dress in a small retro boutique down a cobblestoned sidestreet. She was delighted when it fitted as though it had been made for her.

When the time finally came for her to wear it, Georgia had spent a good half an hour beforehand in a scented bath, and had washed her dark chestnut hair until the little lights deep in the colour gleamed like tints of burnished copper. She took great care with her make-up too, and when there was nothing else to do other than drape her burgundy pashmina round her shoulders and take a final morale-boosting glance in the wardrobe mirror she left her bedroom to head down the long silent corridor to the staircase.

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