Tessa worked some moisture into her mouth and mentally adopted a brisk professional manner. “Where do you want me to start, sir?” she asked.
“At the beginning,” he muttered, without looking up.
A blaze of resentment glittered in her tawny gold eyes. Pride puffed through her mind. He wasn’t going to patronise her as though she were some silly dumb cluck! She dragged in a deep breath and spoke with very cool precision.
“If you would be kind enough to spell out specifically what you want...”
Finally the dark eyes shot up and fastened on hers. “The usual,” he said, “although everything will be happening much faster, I expect, than what you are normally used to. Although the sessions will be taped for future reference, you will take a note of everything that is said, not only as a check to the tapes but also for my easy reference. After the meetings, you will be required to word-process any memos, directives or queries. You will liaise with your opposite number. You will make sure that everyone has what they need. Apart from that, every important thing is to be reduced to writing,” he said in rapid-fire delivery. “With exactness and precision. Can you manage that?”
“Yes, sir,” she fired back.
“And, Miss Stockton...”
“Yes, sir?”
“There is nearly a hundred million dollars of joint project money at stake.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Please... try not to stuff up, Miss Stockton.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Everything that you do will be important, Miss Stockton. Please appreciate that.”
“Yes, sir.”
His eyes returned to his documents.
Tessa felt she’d just been put through the wringer— plicked up, squeezed dry, then hung out on a waiting line again.
“And is there anything you want me to do immediately, sir?” she grated, determined to prove that she wasn’t the ninny he took her for.
He looked up, and this time he really looked at her, his eyes gathering a speculative interest as he examined hers. After several heart-stopping moments, he softly said, “I don’t think you’d be able to oblige.”
Tessa flushed at his mortifying judgement of her.
A gleam of some secret inner amusement danced into the dark eyes, and again his mouth moved into a sensual little quirk. “Perhaps some other time.”
Tessa didn’t know how to interpret that. But his private amusement was not at all mollifying to her injured pride.
“The Japanese delegation has been held up for an hour or so. That’s the reason for the delay,” he said more briskly. “In the meantime, arm yourself with your tools of trade, Miss Stockton. Rosemary left an attaché case full of documents and documentation on her desk if you would like to check through them. Anything you might think you need, you will find in her office. Through the door behind you,” he directed.
Tessa almost leapt from her chair, eager to do something useful.
“And, Miss Stockton...”
“Yes, sir?”
“In this business, it is impossible to anticipate everything. If there is anything we need at any time, you have my authority behind you all the way. Over everyone.”
“Thank you, sir,” Tessa said in some dismay. She found absolute power a scary concept. The responsibility of it was positively frightening. But she reassured herself with the thought that Blaize Callagan had accepted the responsibility of backing her. Although if she stuffed up...
“Some problem, Miss Stockton?” he inquired, as she stood there furiously thinking.
“No, sir.” She was not going to stuff up. “Thank you, sir,” she added for good measure, then turned briskly towards the door he had indicated.
However, as she walked across the room to his secretary’s adjoining office, she had the very strong sensation that Blaize Callagan’s penetrating dark eyes were studying her bottom and every movement it made. No doubt it amused him.
Never in her life had Tessa felt more conscious of being a woman, or more conscious of a man being a man. The tension that tightened her nerves had nothing whatsoever to do with proving her competence as a secretary. It was the way Blaize Callagan kept looking at her!
CHAPTER TWO
At precisely eleven-thirty, Blaize Callagan collected Tessa from his secretary’s office. They were driven to the helicopter in a stretch limousine. He read documents all the way.
Her awareness of him would lessen, Tessa told herself. However, she couldn’t help noticing that his fingers were long and supple. Occasionally he rubbed his thumb over their inner pads as his hand was poised ready to turn another page. The soft tactile movement was somehow disturbing. So was the tangy scent of his after-shave lotion in the close confinement of the car.
He said nothing to her and Tessa felt constrained not to break his concentration. Once the conference started she would be busy enough, she decided, so she might as well relax while she could. Except that was proving utterly impossible.
The fine woollen fabric of his trousers was stretched tightly across his thighs. She wondered if he worked out at a gym. Powerful muscles weren’t formed and maintained without some kind of exercise. Tessa knew that from her aerobics class. On the other hand, Blaize Callagan might get all the exercise he needed elsewhere. Although Grant—the two-timing fink—didn’t have hard muscular thighs like that, so perhaps Blaize Callagan did work out at a gym.
Three other executives were standing by the helicopter when they arrived. One of them was Jerry Fraine. He stared at Tessa, his eyebrows shot up, his mouth twitched, he passed a hand across his face, then he quickly swung toward the helicopter. His big burly shoulders visibly shook.
Whether it was a result of prolonged nervous tension, Tessa didn’t know, but she had to swallow an impetuous giggle herself. Jerry had never seen her look so prim and proper and professional. And the glasses, of course, had been a joke between them. She hoped, when he recovered his composure, he would appreciate the effort she had made on behalf of her image. After all, it was for Jerry Frame’s benefit as well as her own. Not that it seemed to be working very effectively. So far Blaize Callagan didn’t seem to see her as a career professional. Only as a body. A female body.
The conference was being held at Peppers, a highly reputable country hotel in the Hunter River Valley. It was set among the famous vineyards that produced some of the best Australian wines. Although it was about two hundred kilometres from Sydney by road, it was little more than a twenty-minute flight by helicopter.