âLive for the moment, Morgen. Hmm?â
His arms sliding seductively round her waist, Conall wished fervently that he could banish every trace of sadness from her beautiful green eyes. He couldnât ever remember feeling that way about any other woman, and heâd dated many.
âSo, Miss McKenzieâ¦where do we go from here?â
It was difficult to think straight with the sudden rush of blood to her head. Her expression revealing her anxiety more candidly than she knew, Morgen glanced nervously up at Conall. âWhere do you want to go from here?â
He overwhelmed her with another sexy smile, and the strong arms around her waist tightened a little. âWant me to be frank with you?â
Morgen nodded.
âYour bed would be good.â
THE voice in her head seemed to come from far away, and had a sense of urgency about it. Irritated at the interruption to her dream, Morgen mentally willed it away, longing for the dream to come back. But to no avail. It was gone, like leaves scattered by the wind. As the fog in her head began to clear it became painfully apparent that she had pins and needles in her handsâthe same hands that her head was resting on, on her desk.
âOh, my God!â
Lifting her head, she briskly rubbed her palms together, then flexed her fingers, her heart racing slightly as the blood began to circulate again. It started racing even more when she saw the stony-faced expression of the man standing on the other side of the desk, disapproval bracketing a mouth that looked as if it smiled just about as often as Morgen had dinner at the Savoy.
She started to rise to her feet. âIâm sorry, Iââ
âWas wasting the firmâs time? By my calculations itâs at least another hour until lunch, and Iâve been told that most of the staff in this office grab a sandwich and eat it at their desk. Obviously you have other, less strenuous ideas for using your desk, Missâ¦?â
Hateful man! For a couple of moments Morgen struggled to get a handle on her anger, not to mention humiliation, but then, taking a deep breath and tucking her hair behind her ear, she straightened her shoulders and rallied. How dared he cast aspersions on her character by insinuating that she fell asleep at her desk on a regular basis? And who, in Godâs name, was he anyway?
âMy falling asleep like that has never happened before, Mrâ¦?â
âYou first.â He ran an impatient hand through hair the colour of rich dark caramel, and Morgen couldnât help noticing that he looked in urgent need of both a haircut and a shave. Besides that, there was an edge about him that made her stomach knot. This was a man who would never suffer the indignity of being ignored, she concluded, not in this life. And it wasnât just because of those jaw-dropping good looks, either.
âMcKenzie. Morgen McKenzie.â
âAndâapart from being employed by this firm to do apparently not very muchâyou work for Derek Holden, is that right?â
Swallowing with difficulty, Morgen felt the slight burn of heat in her cheeks. âIâm his assistant, yes.â
âThen where the hell is he? I had a meeting booked with him in the conference room at ten-thirty. I got an earlier flight back from the States to make sure I was here on time, Iâm jet-lagged, in dire need of a shower and something to eat, and thereâs no sign of your boss anywhere. Care to tell me where you think he is, Miss McKenzie?â
Right now, what she actually cared to tell Mr High-and-Mighty-Iâm-so-much-better-than-you standing in front of her was probably unprintable, but she was equally angry with Derek. Why hadnât he briefed her on the fact he had a ten-thirty appointment with this man, whoever he was? Sheâd checked the diary thoroughly before sheâd left last night, as she always did, and there had been no meeting in the conference room at ten-thirty pencilled in then. What the devil was he playing at?
Her heart sank at yet another painful reminder of her bossâs slow and steady decline. Once a smart up-and-coming young architect, since his divorce Derek Holden had turned more and more to the bottle in search of comfort. In the past six months Morgen had seen him turn into a sad, shambling wreck of his former self. It was a good job that she was quick-witted and smart herself, because she had saved his bacon on more than one occasionâtaking over work that was definitely not in the province of a mere personal assistant. She concluded that Derek must have known about the meeting for a while but had forgotten to tell her about it.