Free The Irresistible Tycoon by Helen Brooks

my accountant has looked into a couple of matters.’
    â€˜Goodbye, Mrs Allen.’ Robert Clarkson had put out his hand as he spoke, forcing Lucas to delay his departure. ‘It was nice meeting you,’ he said softly, his eyes warm.
    â€˜Likewise.’
    Robert opened his mouth to say more but Kim found herself whisked across the car park, which had been swept clean of even the faintest trace of snow, before the younger man could speak and then she was in the Aston Martin with the door firmly shut.
    That had bordered on rudeness. She watched her boss walk round the bonnet of the car but could read nothing from the bland expression on the craggy face. But perhaps he was in a hurry to return to the office for some reason?
    â€˜That went well.’
    They had just drawn out of the car park and she had acknowledged Robert’s wave—the younger Clarkson standing by a superb dark-blue Mercedes—with a smile and an inclination of her head before she turned to answer Lucas. In spite of the positive content of his words, the tone had suggested something different.
    â€˜Yes, I thought so,’ she agreed politely.
    â€˜You seemed to hit it off well with the Clarksons,’ Lucas said expressionlessly.
    â€˜You were right—they’re nice people.’
    Lucas nodded sagely but made no comment.
    Kim stared at the cool hard profile for a moment longer, feeling there was something here she had missed, but at a loss to know exactly what.
    It was the same when they got back to the offices. Lucas disappeared into his after some curt instructions regarding the notes she had taken during lunch, but he seemed distracted somehow—irritated, even.
    Kim found she didn’t care. The roller-coaster of emotions she had been riding all day had taken its toll and she was physically and mentally exhausted, needing every scrap of concentration she had left to transcribe her notes into neatly printed pages. The excellent lunch didn’t help the feeling of tiredness either; for the first time since she didn’t know when she would have loved an afternoon nap, her stomach replete and her brain frazzled.
    At half-past four she took a pile of paperwork into Lucas and placed it on his desk.
    â€˜Thank you.’ He didn’t look up.
    â€˜I’ll come back in ten minutes when you’ve had a chance to sign the letters; they’re on the top,’ Kim said evenly.
    â€˜Fine.’ His voice was distracted and he still didn’t raise his head.
    She was halfway to the door when she remembered she hadn’t mentioned a report the financial director’s secretary had just delivered and which she’d placed in the pile, and she turned swiftly, the words on her lips, only to have them freeze as she found him watching her.
    Their eyes met and held for an eternity, glittering silver on dark brown, and then his gaze wandered to a tendril of hair which had escaped the neat braid at the back of herhead. ‘Your colouring is very unusual,’ he said almost absently. ‘Blonde hair with such dark eyes.’
    â€˜My hair is natural.’ It was a touch defensive.
    â€˜I know; I can tell,’ he said softly.
    Of course he would be able to tell, with all the blondes—natural and otherwise—he must have known in his time. The fact that her mind had registered the thought, rather than the thought itself, disturbed Kim, and to cover her confusion she found herself babbling, ‘Melody has the same blonde hair and dark eyes, actually.’
    He nodded slowly. ‘Genetic. Perhaps one of your parents had the same colouring?’ His voice was very deep and very soft.
    Kim wanted to gulp, her throat seemed to be closing up, but she breathed out through her nose and said calmly, ‘My mother. I don’t remember her but I have a photograph. My father was blonde too but he had blue eyes.’
    â€˜Right.’
    He hadn’t moved a muscle and there was no need to feel