Guilty Love (Completed)

Chapter One

"I'm afraid I have to ask you to work late again tonight, Mrs York"
Linzi had been so intent on her work that she hadn't noticed her boss walk into her office, and his deep voice made her jump. As she looked around at him, her fine silvery hair flicking back from her face, Ritchie Calhoun gave her one of his slow, sardonic smiles. "Your nerves are in a bad way. I didn't mean to frighten you out of your wits" She gave him a wry look. Everytime he came into a room he made her jump, he made most of the staff jump.

He was that sort of man. Even now she knew him quite well she was never able to relax when he was around. The air seemed to crackle with electricity everywhere he went, he was curt and incisive, and those grey eyes seemed to see right through to the backbone, which was disconcerting. But she could hardly tell him any of that, so she simply said, "I'm sorry, I was miles away -- what did you say, Mr Calhoun?"

"I want you to work late tonight" he repeated, and Linzi's teeth caught her lower lip, worrying it. Ritchie watched the betraying little movement, his eyes shrewd. "Is that a problem?"

It was always a problem when he wanted her to work late because it upset Barty every time, but when she'd accepted the job Ritchie Calhoun had laid it on the line that she would have to be prepared to work flexible hours, rather than just nine to five, so how could she complain now? After all, he, himself worked ferociously hard, putting in a twelve-hour day most days.

He was usually there when she arrived in the morning and there when she left, unless he was away on some business trip, or working out in a field with one of his construction teams on a difficult project, when she gathered, he worked even harder for longer hours. It was said that hardbitten construction workers had been known to pale at the sight of him bearing down on them if they weren't working hard enough, or had made some stupid mistake. Everyone in the firm admired the man, but they all agreed it was no easy job working for Ritchie Calhoun.

The good side was that she had plenty of free time on days when he didn't need her and she was earning a lot more money than she ever had before. She and Barty were getting used to having that extra money every month. They had bought new furniture, new linen, curtains, a new dinner set -- gradually their little flat was beginning to look the way Linzi wanted it to look and she could never earn this much anywhere else.

That was why Barty didn't force her to give up the job, much as he resented the hours she had to work. So Linzi shook her head, suppressing a sigh. "No, no problem. I can work tonight. Do you have any idea when I shall get away, though? I have to cook my husband's dinner." "Isn't it time he learn to cook his own?" Ritchie drily enquired, his hard mouth twisting. "Or he could pick up a Chinese takeaway on his way home from work."

Involuntarily, Linzi laughed at the idea. "Barty isn't keen on takeaway food, he likes home cooking." He liked to find her waiting for him when he came home too, and if he didn't, he sometimes went out again to a bar to drink his supper. Her laughter died, sadness filled her eyes.

Ritchie lounged against her desk, watching her changing expressions. She had a mobile face which gave away too much of what was going on inside her. Her features were delicate, a small finely moulded nose, high cheekbones, wide eyes the colour of the sea on a sunny day, a soft pink mouth which was generously full and yet sensitive, suggesting to Ritchie a sensual nature you would never suspect from anything else about Linzi York, he thought, eyes narrowing. Linzi looked up and caught him staring, and blushed as if picking up on his secret thoughts.

"And I suppose you do all the housework too, and wash and iron his clothes for him?" he asked with a faint sarcasm that indicated disapproval. "It's what Barty's used to, his mother always did those things for him," she began, then stopped, frowning, angry with herself for sounding as if she was apologising for her husband. Her private life was none of Ritchie's business for one thing, and for another, she loved Barty -- it made her happy to take care of him.

**Until next chapter, hope u gaiss enjoy readingg it.. Sorry for any typo or mistake in grammar.. Not so good in english here.. Hahaha..

'* Special thanks for my cuzzy wendylau98 for the front book cover.. I love it, I like it, I dig it.. Muahhh ~ Muahh..