Free A Strict Seduction by Maria Del Rey Page A

for his call, her legs crossed so that the tight skirt revealed the perfect shape of her thighs.
    â€˜I want your personnel file please,’ he said clearly, managing to conceal the tremor of emotion with an air of cool formality.
    â€˜My file?’ she asked with a note of genuine surprise.
    â€˜Yes please,’ he said, and cut the phone off, her quizzical note still hanging in the air. He leaned back, sinking into the welcoming comfort of the leather chair, and waited for her to come in. The Sullivan account file lay on the desk in front of him, the buff folder containing the full details of the most important account the company had. It was the first file he had asked for when they had both arrived that morning. He remembered the nervous look in her eye as she handed it over, as if she wasn’t sure that she wanted him to see it. But the account had been lost and he had to see the file.
    Marianne entered and smiled coolly. It was an efficient smile that managed to conceal whatever feelings she had, yet managed not to look false. ‘My file,’ she said, carefully handing him the blue folder with her name neatly stencilled on the cover.
    â€˜Thank you, Marianne,’ he said, deliberately placing it next to the Sullivan file.
    â€˜Is there anything else?’ she asked, hovering in front of the desk nervously.
    â€˜No, thank you.’ He looked down at her file, not bothering to wave her away. She hesitated for a second, standing in front of the desk, one leg crossed in front of the other, hands together, fingers locked tight. It was only when she turned to walk away that Stephen looked up again. She was wearing a smart navy skirt and jacket, with black seamed stockings and black high heels with butterfly bows on the heel. Her skirt was tight and her hips swayed slightly with each step, emphasising the constraining tightness of the skirt and the elegant curves of her body.
    She lingered at the door for a moment and he felt sure she was going to say something, but if she was she changed her mind. She closed the door gently and he felt a sigh of relief. These situations were always so difficult, so very tricky. He skipped through her file, flicking through the pages, not even pretending to read through it. He knew all he had to know, but he was stalling for time, wanting just those few extra moments to think things through. He leaned back in his seat once more and looked around at the comfortable office, at the framed certificates on the wall, at the book-lined shelves, at the painting by the door, at the drinks cabinet in the corner. Success – everything reflected the success of the company, and of the people who worked there. Until now.
    He buzzed Marianne again. She responded too quickly, her voice just a little too loud and a little too eager. ‘Marianne, I’d like to see you for a moment, please,’ he said, as calmly as he possibly could. His heart was thumping and his throat had gone impossibly dry.
    â€˜Yes, Stephen,’ she said when she came in. Her smile was more nervous than it had been a moment earlier, as if she realised that things had finally come to a head.
    â€˜This is going to be very difficult,’ he said, playing with a pen nervously, finding it easier to look at that and not at her. ‘Very difficult,’ he repeated softly, ‘for the both of us. You’ve been with us a long time now, and sometimes that’s not a good thing.’
    â€˜It’s about the Sullivan account,’ she said quietly, barely whispering, her sharp blue eyes suddenly full of tears.
    â€˜Yes. The Sullivan account.’ He paused, exhaled heavily. ‘But that’s not the first time, is it?’
    â€˜But it wasn’t my fault,’ she whispered, her lips trembling.
    â€˜I’m afraid it was,’ Stephen said softly but firmly, hoping she wouldn’t make a scene. ‘You were late with the tender documents. We missed the deadline for