The Boss's Virgin, Charlotte Lamb [reader novel .txt] 📗

not let herself think about him too much. He was her boss; that was all. Just that, nothing else, ever.

Yet whenever she forgot to keep a guard on her mind she thought about him that evening, sitting in her lonely room, listening to her second-hand radio. She couldn’t afford a television but radio was some sort of companion: another voice in her room, music, plays.

She had never been in love, never thought much about other people. Now she couldn’t stop thinking about Randal Harding, remembering his vivid grey eyes, the charm of his smile, the grace and beauty of his male body.

She was filled with curiosity about him. Was his home as beautiful as his car? Elegant, luxurious, comfortable? He wouldn’t be alone tonight, like her—he would have his wife and child for company. Did he know how lucky he was?

That was the beginning. Over the weeks that followed she saw him most days, and each time he gave her that smile, sending her temperature sky-high. Occasionally she had to work for him, and tried hard to stay calm and collected, but it wasn’t easy when it made her heart race dangerously whenever he smiled or his hand brushed hers.

One day he called her into his office while Miss Dalton was having coffee in a café across the street with some friends—a birthday celebration, Judy had told Pippa. Judy knew all the office gossip: what was going on and who was dating who.

‘They make these wonderful cakes,’ she’d said enviously. ‘Coffee-iced walnut cakes, chocolate eclairs that melt in your mouth. It’s the place to go, if you can afford it. I’ve been once and still dream about it.’

‘Sounds blissful,’ Pippa had agreed; she could never have afforded food like that. Her budget was far too restricted.

Mr Harding had put his head round the door at that minute. ‘Come through,’ he told Pippa, who had got up, flushed and anxious, while Judy whistled under her breath.

‘Let’s hope Dalton doesn’t get back while you’re with him! Or your head will roll. Come to that, I’m suspicious, too—why does he always ask for you? Why never me?’

Pippa hadn’t even tired to answer that; she couldn’t. Randal had taken some sort of interest in her from the beginning—was it because of what he had found out about her background? Was he sorry for her? She didn’t like that idea.

When she went into the other room and found Randal Harding standing with his back to her, staring out of the window at the blue, cloudless sky, she began to breathe rapidly, shallowly. While she gazed at that long, supple back, those even longer legs, he turned his head to smile at her, making her heart roll over in a now familiar, disturbing fashion.

‘I want to ask a favour of you—this isn’t work, so feel free to refuse if you’re not happy about it—but I’m very busy today and I can’t spare the time to do it myself. My son is five tomorrow and I haven’t bought him a birthday present yet. Do you think you could go shopping and choose something for him?’

Taken aback, since she hadn’t expected that request, she stammered, ‘Well, of course, but…I don’t know what toys he already has or what he likes…’

‘He hasn’t got any big vehicles—trucks, farm vehicles, fire engines, that sort of thing. He loves toy cars, so that would probably be the best bet.’

‘Right, then; okay, I’ll do my best. When did you want me to go?’

‘Take an extra hour for lunch.’ He pulled out a sheaf of bank notes from a wallet in his jacket, and counted some out into her hand. ‘That should be enough. And would you buy a birthday card, too?’

His fingers brushed hers, making her legs turn weak, but she nodded, smiling, and hurriedly retreated.

She managed to do her shopping in a world-famous toyshop. It only took a few minutes to choose and pay for a huge bright red fire engine with expanding ladders and tiny firemen in yellow helmets, coiled water hoses, all the equipment a boy would need to play firemen. In another shop she bought a card which she thought quite funny, with a big gold number five on it and a line of pink elephants dancing and playing the trumpet.

She had lunch nearby, before returning to work at the usual time. Miss Dalton was at lunch when Pippa got back.

‘She was looking for you,’ Judy warned. ‘Asking why you had gone to lunch early and who gave you permission. I played dumb, said I didn’t know. Where have you been, anyway?’

‘Shopping,’ Pippa said, rushing into Randal Harding’s office and laying the package she had bought on his desk, then hurrying back before Miss Dalton caught her. The last thing she needed was trouble.

‘I worry about you,’ Judy said. ‘What’s going on between you and Randal?’

‘Nothing! Don’t be silly.’ Pippa buried herself in her work.

She got into trouble when Miss Dalton returned ten minutes later and demanded to know why Pippa had gone to lunch early.

‘I had some urgent shopping to do,’ Pippa said, eyes lowered.

‘I don’t believe my ears! So you just went off to do it without a word!’

Pippa thought of telling her Randal Harding had given her permission to go, but decided that might merely make matters worse, so said nothing.

‘How dare you walk out of here without permission? You will go to lunch at the time allotted to you in future.’ Miss Dalton’s voice was acid. ‘One more trick like that and you’re out of a job!’

Pippa shivered. She needed this job; there was no guarantee she would get another. Without an income she would find life very hard. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.

‘You’ll be even more sorry if you keep annoying me like this!’ the older woman snapped.

Judy rolled her eyes at Pippa behind Miss Dalton’s back and mouthed, ‘I told you so!’

As the time to stop work came closer Miss Dalton came over to look at Pippa’s desk and gave her an icy, triumphant