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.Much, much more, or else his child would have been left a cripple for the rest of her life.He’d faced the prospect of forking out for radical new treatment which might restore the use of her legs and, when his own money had run out, he’d turned to the company for what he had seen would be a loan.A loan no one else knew about.Throughout the long hours spent listening to his account, Max sat in silence, asking only the briefest of questions, even though it was to him that Harry’s watery eyes most frequently turned.His face betrayed nothing whatsoever.He made no notes whatsoever, leaving that to the rest of the assembled crew, but she had no doubt that every single word spoken was being absorbed and dealt with by that sharp, clever mind of his.By the end of the second day, and after some discussions with the accountant and the chief lawyer, Harry Shoring was told that he would not face the prospect of a prison sentence.Max would, he said himself, repay every penny of the debt from his own personal fortune, an offer which was met with a gasp of gratitude from the older man, but in return Harry would have to leave the firm immediately and his pension would be altered to compensate for the embezzlement.‘What about Jessie?’ he asked tearfully.‘She’s been coming along so well…my poor little baby…only fourteen…’‘I’ll make sure that all health costs are covered until progress is complete.’The solution was unbelievably generous and compassionate, Vicky thought two hours later as she sat in the hotel conference room putting the finishing touches to various bits of documentation that would require signatures.Her mind played back Max’s words and expressions over those past two days and something strong and disturbing quivered inside her.A confusing and uninvited notion that her secrecy about Chloe was somehow an act of betrayal, that she should tell him about her daughter.Hadn’t she seen enough of him now to know that he wouldn’t abuse the knowledge? The thought hovered above her like a storm cloud filled with threat.The temptation to blurt it all out was very nearly irresistible, but something held her back.Thick, sluggish fear, lodged inside her like a vice, stilled the little voice, reasoned to her that any confession, in the short term, would ruin this important trip to New York, told her to keep her dangerous secret to herself.After all, her daughter played no part in her working life and never would.He would never find out, not if she remained careful.And wasn’t the old adage better safe than sorry the most priceless of advice? She ignored her gut feeling that her reasoning was built on very shaky foundations and stifled her inner protests.Instead, she finished her stack of typing and breathed a sigh of relief.Tomorrow she would be catching the day flight back to Heathrow and would be in time to collect Chloe from school.They had spoken twice a day and she’d been amused to discover that her daughter had not spent hours sobbing over her mother’s absence.Chloe, she thought, was growing up.She’d missed her daughter, but Vicky had to admit that the past two days had been rather wonderful.The fleeting window of freedom had made her see how difficult her life had been as a single-parent family.She’d forgotten what it was like to have a night of undisturbed sleep and to awaken in the morning without having to plunge into insistent childish conversation.For a few seconds, she thought how wonderful it must be to have help in the form of a partner.In her own head, Vicky had equated partnership with the likes of Shaun, but now she thought that four hands, two heads and the security of sharing must be rather nice.She wondered what kind of father Max would make and, in the solitude of the enormous conference room, she flushed and glanced around her, as though afraid that unseen eyes might pick a hole in her head and yank out the wayward thought.She was so consumed by the uninvited image that when she heard his voice from the door, she imagined, for a couple of seconds, that she must be dreaming, but when she turned around he was lounging in the doorframe, casually dressed in a pair of olive-green trousers and a short-sleeved shirt that emphasised his superb build.‘I’ve just finished,’ Vicky said, in case he’d come to find out why she was taking so long.There had been a lot more to type out than she had first expected.‘Good.In that case you can run along and have a bath, get on your glad rags and join me for dinner.’ He smiled slowly at her and raked his fingers through his hair.‘Unless you have other plans?’‘No other plans,’ Vicky mumbled, switching off the computer and making a big deal of rustling her bits of paper to hide her confusion.He continued to lounge oppressively by the door, watching her antics, which made her feel like a gerbil pointlessly gadding about on a wheel in a cage.‘I’ll meet you in the bar in—’ he glanced down at his watch ‘—forty minutes, and we’ll take a cab to the restaurant.’‘With everyone else?’‘Everyone else has a family to go home to,’ Max said drily, ‘and after the hours they’ve put in over the past few days, they’ll be only too glad to get back to a bit of normality.Just you and me to celebrate the best outcome that could have been achieved, given the circumstances.’At which he gave her a mocking half salute and departed, leaving Vicky to hastily gather her paperwork, dash up to her bedroom, have a quick bath and then devote the remainder of the time left to surveying her wardrobe, which was scantily inadequate.She finally appeared in the hotel bar ten minutes late in a pair of black trousers, the other half of her one and only trouser suit, and a beige long-sleeved woollen top which had been flung in her case as an afterthought, and for which she was now grateful as the other three tops she had brought with her were suitable for work only.They were businesslike shirts, smartly tailored and ludicrously inappropriate for doing anything apart from sitting in front of a computer or taking notes at meetings.Max was waiting for her in the bar.He saw her before she saw him and had a few seconds during which he appreciatively took in the trousers, her slim hips and waist and the top which fitted like a glove.He still found it incredible that she could do this to him, make him feel like a teenager all over again, but he was accepting it in the manner of someone accepting the inexplicable but unavoidable.He was even, he realised, becoming tuned in to her thoughts from the changing expressions on her face.Over the past two days he had found himself watching her, knowing when she agreed with what was being said and when she didn’t.More amazingly, he had begun unconsciously looking to her for approval of some of his decisions, although he wasn’t about to heed the advice of any woman or be swayed in his thoughts simply because of the way Vicky’s eyes shifted to him, or the way her mouth tightened in unspoken disagreement.He could feel that shadow of anxiety hovering around her as they left the hotel bar and headed for the restaurant.It was one of his favourites
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