His Lordships Daughter Read Online Free PDF Page A

“What has all this got to do with me going out for an hour?”
    “I’m explaining how we operate. You must have worked with other companies. All our rules are the same.”
    She smiled. “I have never worked for anyone else, Mister Grant.”
    “nobody? n ot ever?”
    She shook her head “Not ever.”
    Steven leaned back in his chair. “That explains quite a lot, doesn’t it?”
    “Does it?”
    Nodding his head, he waved his hand to the door. “O.K. you have my per mission to take one hour off .” Smiling at him, she left his office, walked to the car park and getting into her car, nosed the Aston Martin into the mainstream traffic. It was getting home time for shift workers and the roads were under threat from excessive transport. A lorry driver, high in his cab, tooted his klaxon at her, waving the car on as it eased through a roundabout before chasing down a slip road on to the motorway . Moving her foot on the accelerator, the powerful car surged forward.
    Sitting firmly in the driving seat, she started thinking about Steven Grant, quietly admitting to herself that he interested her. She was comfortable with him. She liked talking to him and she admired his laidback manner in the midst of a mind which must be brimming with technical complexities. Although she wasn’t aw are of it, built into her natural psyche was perhaps the greatest gift which a woman could inherit. An instant ability to differentiate between the winners and losers. Really, it was a built in defence mechanism, attuned to keeping out the riff raff, but properly used and respected it was a gift from heaven. She smiled and wiggled her body sensuously as she wondered what he would be like in bed?
    Keeping pace with the speed of the motorway she slowed the car to a crawl and kept it there before turning off at a junction leading to the town centre. The car parks were half empty, so rapidly slotting the Aston Martin, she switched the intruder alarm on, locked the car then quickly walked through the streets to the Imperial Bank. The Security Guard on the door saluted and the counter staff smiled at one of their favourite people as she headed for the door marked “Manager”. Knocking , she entered.
    The Honourable Clive Hunter Braseby, the twenty six year old son of Lord Braseby, chairman of the family bank, sat behind his ornate desk gazing at the customer’s accounts in his hands. “Why do people get themselves into such a bloody mess?” he said half aloud , looking up in surprise as Phyllipa entered.
    “Well, how nice.” He boomed, rising and kissing her cheek.
    “What’s this load of crap that my father keeps giving me about you loving me”
    Clive threw his hands in the air in mock horror. “For g oodness sake, sit down, .”
    “Well?” she asked, impatiently.
    “You should be directing that question  to my father. He’s the one feeding your family wrong information.”
    “I’m directing at you, .”
    He shook his head. “This business is to be handled very carefully by you and I. our venerate parents are not going to be satisfied until they see the pair of us going down the aisle together. It is their dearest wish that we tie the knot and merge our two great houses.
    Phyllipa sat on the offered chair and gazed at her friend. She liked Clive. Although a trifle pompous, he was good fun. “I know, but your father keeps telling my father that you are violently in love with me.” She peered into his face. “Are you?”
    “I’m very fond of you, Phyllipa. You know that! Years ago, I stood in for that brother that you never had.”
    Phyllipa chucked. “ The things that you and I did would have been illegal between brother and sister.”
    “Happy times. Eh?” his eyes gleaming with memory pleasure.
    “Happy corn field times, indeed.” Phyllipa agreed. “But, joking apart, we do have to get this business straightened out. You know what your father is like?”
    Clive nodded. “I most certainly do.” Gloomily, he recalled his