The Irresistible Secretary
A Lucius Malfoy story
Chapter One
It was a typical cold, blustery English day when Olivia Woodhouse's life took a turn for the worse, although compared to how exceedingly well her life had been so far, 'worse' was a relative word.
She stood outside the office of the new Director of the Artifacts of Dark Magic, whom she'd been tipped was hiring, making a valiant attempt to puff up her courage enough to get through the door. Her hands were ice cold and she was still shivering after the long walk she had to take from her tiny flat located over Madame Demelza's Seamstress and Second Hand Robes Shoppe, about six blocks from her, hopefully, new job. Blowing on her numb fingers to get some feeling back into them, she straightened her second-hand robes, and knocked lightly. A commanding voice bade her "enter" in a tone of elegant dismissal, as though the man simply could care less who came through his door. Nervously, she opened the barrier between herself and future employment, and walked softly into a simply gorgeous office.
The walls were clothed in a sea of warm burgundy which offset the lovely oak paneling that comprised the entire wall of bookshelves. A huge fireplace crackled merrily and the gloom of the late autumn day was pushed aside by the warmth that radiated from the heart of its golden glow. Opposite the fireplace was the desk, a massive Edwardian masterpiece built of the finest cherry and, oh my … here her thoughts scattered, for seated behind this writing table was a man.
What a man he was … well over 6 feet, lean, but defined. He had the face of the archangel himself; an aristocratic grace and beauty that was nearly painful to behold. A silken curtain of silver-blonde hair fell artfully over his shoulders and, when he deigned to look up, the most amazing cerulean eyes she'd ever seen narrowed on her with an intensity that made her grow hot and damp in the most interesting places…
"Oh … my … gods," Olivia said faintly. She knew she was staring impolitely, but honestly, who could blame her? A sudden dizziness assailed her and she felt her knees begin to buckle … he was the last thing she focused on before the darkness descended.
Lucius Malfoy was in a snit. The Minister of Magic herself had dared to threaten to hire him a secretary. A babysitter more like! After all these years, after all Lucius had done, all the money his family had paid to aid in rebuilding the wizarding world, all to salvage his fragile reputation; he still wasn't worthy of simple trust. Well, he'd show them, he would simply not tolerate it.
A slight knock alerted him to a visitor and he bade the newcomer "enter", before busying himself at his desk and watching the figure come in out of the corner of his eye. "One moment…" he said, finishing his calculations, and then glancing up. He froze in utter shock, she actually did it…the bitch got the better of him!' The person stopped in the middle of the large office and slowly turned, giving off a decidedly awestruck air.
Lucius' smirked in triumph. I believe I have you, sirrah!
Armed with the knowledge that wealth and power impressed, and intimidated most people, Lucius turned his gaze once more to his papers, pretending not to notice when the young man's scrutiny found him until, quite unexpectedly, he felt exposed, caught…vulnerable, as he did when he'd faced the jury for war crimes and was sentenced to serve time in Azkaban. He glanced up sharply and went completely still when he looked into the intelligent eyes of a petite, curly haired young witch dressed appallingly like a stable boy. She suddenly gave a small squeak, wavered for a moment, then toppled over in a dead faint.
"Bloody hell," he said under his breath, before stalking over and gazing down in disgust at the ratty tatty form currently despoiling his rare antique Turkish carpet.
Well, no help for it, he had to move it; no doubt it had fleas. He bent and gingerly picked up the girl, inwardly shocked at how little she weighed, and transported her quickly to the leather couch to the left of his desk, for it was near the fire.
He laid her down and got his first good look at his 'guest'. She had a face that wasn't exactly beautiful, but wasn't distasteful either; he struggled to make a comparison. Her cheekbones were too prominent; her chin too pointed for true blue-blooded perfection, and the hair … the unfortunate child had to be a true red-head...not unlike the present Minister…
These thoughts drew him back to his present circumstances and suddenly he knew, Merlin help him, he knew what Minister Weasley had done. The interfering, meddlesome woman had gone and hired one of her own god-forsaken relatives! A spy, she'd dare send a spy into his office? Fury, dark and all-consuming, slammed through his system as he considered just retrieving his wand and obliterating the stupid chit before anyone knew of her existence.
If anyone asked him, he could lie like the best of them. "Why no, Minister Weasley, I have not seen the gel. You say she was to come in this afternoon? My, my, how very...odd."
He liked this scenario so much that he was busily improving upon it, when she awoke.
***Author's Note: My thanks to all who drop in to read my fics. To those of you who do, please consider leaving a review...the plot bunnies love it, not to mention a lowly author. Thank You!