Chapter Two

Coming back to consciousness while lying on a buttery soft leather sofa, warmed by a roaring fire, head on the softest pillow imaginable, was so pleasant that Olivia thought she was at home, in bed, still busily dreaming the night away. The scent of expensive after-shave and soap, however, gave the game away, for never in her wildest dreams could she have conjured up a scent this mouth-wateringly delicious. She opened her eyes and stared silently up at him. He sensed her quiet look and turned; blue making an intimate connection with clear, startling, enchanting emerald green.

He drew a quick breath at the unexpected punch in the gut and the unmistakable conviction in his heart that whispered 'MINE', much to his dismay.

'No … no. Not mine, never mine! I don't want this, I DON'T WANT HER! I would rather fuck the Minister herself than this chit…'

Noticing his expression of distaste, she misinterpreted it to some degree and made an attempt to sit up, literally shaking with hunger and nerves.

"Oh dear, Lord Malfoy … I must apologize for causing all this trouble. I am … that is, my name is Olivia Woodhouse and I was told…that is I was led to believe you were hiring and I..." she trailed off as, trying to stand up, the room tilted wildly and her knees gave way, the darkness encroaching once again. He swore inventively and caught her by the waist holding her up until the world righted itself and the color returned to her face.

"Tell me, m'dear, how long do you plan on keeping this charade going? I know what you're up too, I am not stupid you know." he drawled in a bored tone.

"I – I'm sorry?" she had no idea what he was talking about.

"Yeesss, I'll just bet you are…" he moved to his desk and rang a small bell, then turned toward her. "Well, I suppose you have references? Resume? Salary Requirements? A job description?" Each question was literally thrown at her in a tone laced with malice and intent to hurt. Her mouth opened, then closed when she had no idea to what question he wanted her an answer first. "Come, come girl; let's have done with it then!"

He literally snapped his fingers at her as though she were a dog, used to responding to her master's commands, and she responded…rushing to thrust her papers at him quickly, not knowing what else to do. He was all that stood between her and total starvation. She could not go back to her parents' house; the attorney had been owling her nearly daily…she'd be going back to hell. She could put up with a lot as long as it didn't involve …but her mind shied away from that.

He took her resume and other papers to his desk and sat, taking his time scrutinizing them over and over, looking for what she didn't know. In the meantime, she stood awkwardly beside the comfortable sofa, not feeling invited to sit again, yet not feeling that he wanted her to approach the desk again for an interview either. Despair settled in her stomach. He didn't like what he saw, that much she knew. She had noticed that there was yet another hole worn through her best robes this morning but she'd not had the money to buy yet another patch kit to fix it. Her magic could only do so much; she had never gotten formal training, so what she knew was only based on gut instinct and inherent talent.

All of this went through her head, while on the outside she stood, quiet and still as the grave, watching him silently until it so unnerved Lucius that he raised his head and snapped, "For Merlin's sake child, sit down before you fall!"

She sat abruptly, her legs literally gave way from hunger and exhaustion, when a house elf popped into the room. "Polly to serve you, Master Lucius?"

Olivia was surprised when he spoke with uncharacteristic deference and respect to his house elf (who was dressed quite fetchingly in a child-sized dress and pinafore), quite unlike the "normal pure-blood" aristocrats in the wizarding world.

"Polly, please could you bring some hot tea, cake, and scones here to the office? Two cups, milk and sugar."

Polly bowed and said that it would be a pleasure, before popping out again. Olivia sat staring in shock at the spot where the creature once stood. Within seconds she was back, with a steaming pot of tea, cups, a carafe and sugar, an assortment of pastries on a tray, and a small table set for two. With a slight flick of his wrist, Lucius conjured up two chairs and set everything down by the fire.

He rose from the desk, looked at her, and gestured toward the table. "Please, Ladies first." Sarcasm dripped from his lips and she winced, fingering the thin jacket she'd borrowed from Mme. Demelza's son.

"I fear I must apologize for my disreputable appearance Lord Malfoy. I had been set to wear my good set of robes, but", here she cleared her throat, "circumstances prevented it. These are borrowed, and will be returned."

"I … see." He raised an eyebrow and his tone was patently disbelieving, to the point of outright rudeness. "I trust you have adequate clothing for my employ? I cannot have a personal secretary looking like a … refugee from Azkaban." Here his eyes callously raked her up and down, passing judgment and clearly finding her lacking.

Finally, anger came to her rescue. She looked down for a moment, clenching her teeth to control her sudden resentment, then sat up straight and looked him dead in the eye. "To be frank, sir, no – I do not. I have only the clothing I am wearing, and my good robes…which truthfully are not all that good anymore. But I am a hard worker, able to learn new things swiftly, and if you hire me I promise you that I will do my best to make your life around the office easier. Now, if you don't wish to hire my services because of how I look, so be it; however, please have the courtesy to inform me immediately. I don't wish to be a source of your rude, acerbic and sarcastic attitude any longer than necessary. I am a respectable woman and thus deserve respect, even if I am not a rich, cynical bastard."

He stared at her so long, and with such an inscrutable expression, she thought that she'd blown it for sure. She'd been played, and the best thing to do was make a dignified, yet hasty retreat.

She would have been as shocked as he when that unwanted secret place in his soul rejoiced.

'Ahhh, my wonderful girl has spirit!'

'No! NO! Not MY Girl, dammit … I don't want her … I don't want … I don't … I…'

'Yes, just keep telling yourself that, perhaps one day you may just believe it…'

'Oh, bugger off!'

His mind was whirring with the incongruity of it all. Who did she think she was? He saw right through her, red hair, bumbling personality, ridiculous clothes and all. For Merlin's sake, did all the women in his life consider him an idiot? She was looking at him, her gaze unreadable, yet, clearly unsure of his reception to her demand.

He smiled his big, patently false and toothy Malfoy grin. "My dear child, is that all? Why, I have had the pleasure of dressing far more beautiful women than yourself." Here he perused her up and down with patented distaste, "I can assure you, no job is too, ahhh, difficult for a Malfoy."

The chit smiled at first until his words penetrated her weak little brain and then…gods, her eyes! Why did it have to be those eyes! He turned away from the sheen of tears he'd seen her fight to conceal from him, hating the feeling of shame and sorrow that had pierced his soul at the sight.

To his utter dismay, he heard these words from his own lips. "You are hired Ms. Woodhouse. Be here tomorrow at eight am sharp." He heard a sharp gasp behind him and then the pit pat of feet fast approaching. Turning to see what she wanted, he was just in time to catch her as she threw herself into his arms and give him an exuberant kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you, thank you, Sir! You won't regret this … I promise!" She eased back, a genuine smile transforming her face, and he caught his breath at the sheer loveliness there. She saw the look in his eyes and went still, breathless, waiting … for what she didn't know. He bent his head forward, lips drawn inexorably toward hers, when a knock on his office door startled them both and he thrust her away from him, nearly knocking her to the ground.

Alarmed and unsure what just happened, she made her way to the table filled with food, she suddenly felt weak with hunger and exultation. She did it! She got the job, thank the gods. She could buy food, pay her rent on time and maybe, just maybe, she'd be able to buy some new clothing. Picking apart the scone in her hand, she took dainty bites so she wouldn't get anything on the floor. Lucius noticed that she had more refined sensibilities than he'd previously believed.

"Come in!" he called out, as Olivia sipped her tea. A tall, willowy brunette sauntered in on impossibly high heels and dressed in fancy bejeweled robes. Her face was exquisite with almond-shaped eyes that spoke of exotic bloodlines and dusky skin tone; her hair was a deep, lustrous mahogany with golden highlights. Lucius stood staring as though struck by lightning.

"Greetings Lord Malfoy, I am Amelia, Amelia Belle. The Ministry recommended I speak to you about possible employment opportunities." She strode up to Lucius with her hand outstretched and he snapped out of it in time to take the slender offering and lift it to his lips in an elegant gesture.

Olivia set the tea cup down hard enough to slop some on the tablecloth and stood off to the side, each gesture, each word, taking slices off her heart. 'By the gods, girl; are you going to simply stand there while some inhuman stick insect takes your job and your future?' Fury suddenly filled her and she stalked up to the pair, insinuating herself between them.

In her best syrupy voice, she said "Excuse me, ma'am, I'm deeply sorry, but you have wasted your time and Lord Malfoy's. The position in question has already been adequately filled. Now, if you have any further questions or concerns, kindly make a call and we will make an appointment at our earliest possible convenience. Thank you." This diatribe was said while she backed the taller woman up toward the office door and then shut it in her face with a smart slap.

She turned with a smile that immediately faded when she caught the expression of rage and disgust warring on his face. "What was that?" he demanded. "Have you lost your senses, as well as your manners? She was a guest in my office! If that is how you treat my callers in the future, I shall rethink my decision." He stormed toward her until he was looming over her by the end of his dressing down and pointed to the door. "Go … before I change my mind and throw you out into the street."