Chapter 2

"Now then, Miss Beaumont," he stopped what he was doing suddenly and fixed a pair of warm brown eyes on her.

Iris shivered and her lips parted on a soft pant.

His nostrils flared as he caught her scent again, but he continued talking as though nothing else had occurred.

"I'm sure that Cynthia has told you everything that you need to know about my needs, but..."

He rambled on for a few minutes, and Iris listened to his droning with half an ear.

"And if you could arrange... !" he didn't even change his tone and so she almost missed it.

But Iris had worked for the dearest of men, who had had a tendency to do just this.

Give instructions interspersed with lots of meaningless monologues.

It was almost automatic when she picked up her pen and began scribbling quickly, as a sense of the familiar passed over her.

He sat watching her down bent head, as he continued reeling off instructions, in that same dull tone.

She was far too attractive. Too vibrant, too sexy!

His body had begun responding to her at the first hint of her perfume, when she had entered the office. And then he had seen her for the first time...

Just a quick glance but it had been enough to cause his heartbeat to jolt.

He now understood why Cynthia had been so adamant that she left before her replacement came in.

"She'll be better off if I'm not around telling her how I would do things," she had shrugged with a slightly guarded smile.

James Atherton, had shrugged his own shoulders almost indifferently. "Whatever you think best," he said, before moving on to the work for the day, Cynthia's last day with him.

He was not an unkind man, nor an unkind boss, but he was a very busy man.

"I'm sorry that I didn't have time to buy you a leaving present," he had said awkwardly as she prepared to leave him for the last time. "But here is a little something for you, to show my appreciation of everything you have done over the past five years."

He held out a pale pink envelope, and Cynthia took it with a look of pleasure.

"Thank you," she said as she tore it open.

The card, was a fairly standard, 'sorry you are leaving us', sort of thing, but as she opened it up to read his message, a slip of paper slid out and fluttered to the floor.

She ignored it for the moment, as she realised what it probably was, and read his message instead.

She gave a little watery smile. "Oh it is always so nice to know that you were valued!" she grinned across at him.

James gave a little half smile, "You were valued ... very much!"

She bent to pick up the cheque, and looked at it quickly, then froze in shock.

"Oh but that is just too much!" she protested as she looked at the three zeroes. "You've already paid me my wages and holiday pay and everything!"

"That was separate. This is from me to you, and I don't think it's too much. You have just got married, and you are off to heaven only knows where – to make a new life and a new home, I hope that this will help you with that; even if only a little."

"But three thousand pounds!"

James just shrugged again. "I can afford it," he dismissed.

She had looked for a moment like she wanted to say something, but then she simply shook her head.

"Oh well," she sighed. "I just wanted to say, thank you to you too, for being such a considerate boss."

He smiled as he walked around the desk and impulsively bent to kiss her, on her cheek.

"Let's just hope that your replacement agrees with that sentiment," he said a little ruefully.

Cynthia bit her lip as she pictured Iris in her mind.

"Oh well," she sighed again.

She left her work place for the last time, leaving it in good order for when Iris took over on Monday.

Mr Atherton would either adjust to her – or not, was her final thought!

Mr Atherton was in actual fact struggling very much to adjust to her.

This was her second day with him, and she had spent an hour in his office this morning, being every inch the perfect assistant.

She was clever and quick, and very conscientious, and was able to anticipate his needs very accurately – it was almost frightening how well she could anticipate him – after such a short acquaintance.

He had thought that Cynthia had been good at reading his needs, but it seemed that Iris was at least a half a second faster.

He reeled of his instructions as he mulled over his day, and she knew exactly which bits to note down, and which she could ignore.

And she used his musing time to get her breath, ensure her pencil was just so, and quickly scan what she had written.

And then she was all ready to continue scribbling, even as he switched back to 'get this done, ' and 'arrange that'.

She was in the outer office now, having just placed a hot cup of coffee on his desk, and her perfume still lingered.

He inhaled appreciatively, before scowling and reaching for the cup, breathing in that fragrant aroma, so as to mask her scent.

He could hear her on the telephone as she arranged for his car to be picked up from the garage below this building.