The Secretary's Scandalous Secret Read Online Free PDF

released to the mercy of any passing opportunist. ‘So this Stewart character…?’ he prompted.
    Brought back down to earth with a bump, Agatha blinked. Her mind had been wandering. She had almost forgotten about Stewart.
    ‘Yes…?’
    ‘How did you meet him?’
    ‘Oh, usual way,’ she said with a casual, studied shrug; this was the perfect opportunity to prove to him that she wasn’t as abnormal as he seemed to think she was. ‘At a bar. You know…’
    ‘At a bar? You go
bar hopping?’
    ‘When you say “bar hopping”…’
    ‘Moving from
bar
to
bar,’
Luc intoned very slowly, emphasising each word. ‘Getting more and more drunk before finally landing up somewhere, barely able to stand.’
    Agatha bid a fond farewell to nurturing that misconception for him. The whole idea sounded pretty disgusting. She had heard ample stories of girls who had got themselvesin trouble by doing just that sort of thing. Her father had counselled at least three that she could remember.
    ‘When you told me that you were worried about me getting into trouble, that’s not what you were talking about, was it? You didn’t really think that I might end up pregnant by some guy whose name I never found out because I had gone out and had too much to drink, did you?’
    ‘Calm down. I don’t think you’re the kind of girl.’
    Insult or compliment? she wondered. Compliment, she decided. ‘I met him at a wine bar. Near the office, actually. I went there with a couple of girls from work. We were having a drink and the bar tender brought over a bottle of champagne and told us that Stewart had sent it for me. When I looked over, he waved and then he came across to join us, and he and I ended talking for quite a while.’
    ‘What about?’
    ‘Lots of things,’ Agatha told him irritably. ‘He’s very interesting. And very smart. Also good-looking.’
    ‘I’m beginning to get the picture.’
    ‘He wanted to know all about what I did, which was great, because most guys just like talking about themselves.’
    ‘I didn’t realise that you were that experienced…’
    ‘I’m not experienced…with men in London. Naturally I’ve been out with quite a few boys at home, and generally speaking they just want to talk about football or cars. Very stereotypical.’ She slid her eyes across to Luc, and as usual her mouth suddenly went dry, and she felt hot and flustered for no apparent reason. This was the first real conversation she had ever had with him, and she was enjoying herself, much as she loathed to admit it. ‘What do you talk about when you go out with a woman?’ she found herself asking curiously.
    ‘Strangely enough, I find that it’s the women who tend to do all the talking.’ He had little interest in holding handsover the dinner table and sharing his thoughts with someone he planned on bedding.
    ‘Perhaps you make a good listener,’ Agatha suggested doubtfully. ‘Although I’m not really sure that you do. You didn’t listen to me when I told you that I could take care of myself.’
    ‘And evidence of your living conditions proves that I was right on that score.’
    ‘Maybe I should have been a little more insistent with Mr Travis,’ she conceded, giving a little ground on this one thing—because he had yet to discover, in addition to all the other problems he had listed, the temperamental fridge and its even more temperamental close relative, the oven. ‘But I’m a big girl when it comes to dealing with everything else.’
    ‘That’s true enough on the surface,’ Luc murmured. ‘You might look the part but I have a feeling that it only runs skin deep.’
    ‘Look the part?’ Was he telling her that she was fat? She might not be a stick insect, but she wasn’t fat—plump, maybe, but not fat. And, if that was what he had meant, why was she stupidly asking for confirmation? Did her capacity for masochism never end?
    ‘You’re a big girl, Agatha. Funny, I hadn’t really noticed until now.’ Again he