Читать книгу The Dare Collection June 2019 - Rachael Stewart, Faye Avalon - Страница 14

JUST FOR THE fun of it, I went toe to toe with him on the next pitch before making a tactical withdrawal.

He knew what I was up to, of course, and his gaze grew increasingly assessing as the next contestants entered the den.

I redirected my gaze to where Chinese screens with colourful frames were being erected. There were six in total and, having learned on the first day to take my cue from the crew’s excitement, I paid closer attention. I’d researched the past shows, knew there was a solitary gem that stood head and shoulders above mundane pitches.

My instincts screamed this could be it.

Surreptitiously, I noted Damian’s interest and plastered on my poker face as the crew finished setting up, noting the mastery in the hand-stitched embroidery etched in the red silk cloth that covered the frames.

The cameras started rolling.

A man and woman of similar height and colouring entered, their smiles open and friendly.

‘Hi, Raiders, I’m Sam Weston and this is my brother Tyler,’ the woman said. ‘I earned the right to speak to you first today because I’m three minutes older than him.’

‘What she means is, she didn’t really give me a choice,’ Tyler replied.

Chuckles echoed through the room, lightening the mood.

I angled my body subtly towards Damian, crossed one leg over the other, and immediately sensed tension rise in his body.

‘We’re here to ask for a seven-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar investment in return for a twenty-five per cent stake in our business,’ Sam stated. ‘It’s a huge sum, we know, but what we have to offer in return will blow your socks off.’ She shared a smile with her brother. ‘Please allow us to let your fantasies come true.’

They approached the Chinese screens, drew them to one side and, in sync, tugged away the silk cloth to reveal a set of large photographs.

One picture was a replica of a scene from Alice in Wonderland, the other a Victorian-era agency parlour. They unveiled the next frame to reveal a French boudoir, and the one after that a late-nineteenth-century Wild West drinking saloon.

The last two were equally eye-catching, every vivid detail in the picture depicting scenes familiar to book and movie lovers.

‘Our business is called Fantasy Rooms. In short, we give you the room of your fantasy in any hotel room of your choice. You can be a Regency duke or an explorer for the duration of your stay and, with just three days’ notice before you check in, we can transform any room to suit your ideal fantasy and provide the costumes and the props required to make your stay one hundred per cent authentic.’

A wild dart of excitement arrowed through me. When I was a child, my one guaranteed escape from the unpleasant roller coaster of watching my mother and the revolving door of unsuitable men she entertained had been through the magic of books.

My library card had been my most treasured possession almost from the day my father had walked out when I was eight. And as soon as I could afford it, I’d filled my reading tablet with more romantic fantasy books than any other.

The idea of bringing those two worlds together, incorporating them into my business, wrapped itself around my heart and held on tight. I needed to use my business head for this but I took a moment to indulge in the possibilities of what this could mean for me. For Nevirna.

I snapped into focus.

‘Three quarters of a million is a hell of a lot of money. Why such a big budget?’ Nate asked.

Tyler stepped forward. ‘We’ve only worked with a few small hotels on the East Coast. We’re looking to expand to the West Coast and eventually go international. The budget will go towards investing in manpower for a year. Ideally we’re looking at six teams, four in each team, to be available to transform the rooms with the three-day notice we aspire to. We’re also looking at hiring costume designers to produce bespoke equipment that isn’t readily available on the market.’

‘Bespoke,’ Damian echoed. ‘That’s expensive.’

‘But ultimately worth it,’ Sam replied.

‘You said you’ve been working with smaller hotels. Who are they?’ I asked.

Tyler named a chain of hotels based in Florida. They were good but not worthy competition.

‘I want an exclusive partnership.’ I boldly staked my claim.

Damian glanced my way but I kept my gaze trained on the Westons. They exchanged smiling looks before glancing my way again.

‘Nevirna Resorts is on our dream list, and, yes, we would consider an initial exclusive arrangement.’

My stomach dropped. ‘Explain initial,’ I pressed.

Sam smiled. ‘We really admire you, Miss Nolan. You cater to the type of clients we’re after. We’ve done tons of research and know you’re working on expanding your resort into Europe and the Caribbean. Our dream is to be bigger eventually and we’d welcome the chance to grow with you but we don’t want to be locked in if...things don’t work out. We need to start somewhere and we think that your resort would be a good fit for us for a couple of years. Ideally we would both grow together.’

Disappointment welled up. Their concept could be huge with the right partnership. But I wasn’t done fighting for the right to be their long-term partner even if all they were offering right now was two years. ‘I’ll offer half a million for the twenty-five per cent stake for a five-year exclusive contract with Nevirna,’ I stated boldly.

‘This hasn’t been tested on a large scale, has it? It could be a success story or it could be a huge money pit. Convince me it’s not the latter,’ Damian challenged.

‘It’s new and largely untested, yes, but we believe in the concept and in our ability to make it worthwhile to your clients. We’ve also had strong interest from the Stardust group of hotels. But we think a partnership with the Raiders will better fit us.’

With a compulsion I couldn’t stem, I turned my head. Surely enough, Damian was staring at me, a hard, shrewd smile twitching his lips.

He knew I wanted this deal. Knew it and relished taking me on.

Tyler cleared his throat. ‘If we may be so bold, our ideal objective would be to secure a semi-exclusive partnership with Nevirna and The Mortimer Group.’

Hell, no. ‘That doesn’t work for me at all.’

Damian’s gaze veered from mine to lock with Sam’s. My heart dropped to my toes. He was about to chop me off at the knees.

But I wasn’t down and out yet. ‘I’ll offer you six hundred thousand for a thirty per cent stake and a three-year exclusivity agreement,’ I countered. ‘But more than that I’ll offer you a true partnership, not one where you’re just another gimmick that’ll easily get overlooked in a big conglomerate’s fanfare. The Mortimer Group is impressive, sure, but do you want to get lost in all their noise before you have a chance to make your mark?’ I challenged.

Damian stiffened and his wisp of a smile evaporated.

‘Can you give us a moment, please?’ Tyler requested, his voice buzzing with suppressed excitement.

They retreated to confer with muted voices. The camera followed them, leaving us alone for a minute.

‘It makes good business sense to partner up,’ Damian murmured from beside me.

I turned the full force of my glower on him. ‘Not to me, it doesn’t.’

‘Why not? Your obvious animosity aside, are you seriously suggesting you don’t think that this could work out for both of us?’

I shrugged. ‘It probably would if I trusted you as far as I could throw you. But I don’t.’

His expression bordered on furious. ‘I guess I was wrong about your ability not to let past encounters get in the way of a sound deal. I’m...disappointed.’

To my infernal annoyance, my heart dipped. As if his opinion mattered. As if the echoes of my mother’s voice in his words were real.

I wanted to slap the look off his face. But despite myself I was fascinated by Damian’s effect on me when no one else so far, besides my mother, had ever made me doubt myself. Wasn’t that why I’d acted so out of character that night in Boston?

Despite having reached into my burgeoning business and yanked the heart out of it, he still both terrified and thrilled me.

Every time he looked at me, whenever I smelled that intoxicating aftershave, I got that stupid urge to trace my fingers over his square jaw, intimately acquaint my skin with his stubble.

It was insane.

I really needed to get it together.

‘Even if I trusted you, which I don’t, five years is a long time in business. I don’t want to be stuck with an absentee partner. You evaded my query earlier so here’s your chance to quash the rumours that you’re relocating back to England shortly.’ His reputation as a genius with the Midas touch was unquestionable, but still...

His shrug was laid-back but the tension vibrating from him told a different story. ‘I’m part of a family that runs a multibillion-pound conglomerate. Even if I were permanently based here in New York, I’d still have varied business interests that demand my attention. But regardless of that, we have an opportunity here that’s guaranteed to be wildly successful with me as part of it.’ His voice brimmed with arrogant confidence.

‘You’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you?’

‘I don’t need to crow about my successes, Neve. They speak for themselves.’

‘Spoken like a true egomaniac.’

Far from being irritated by my waspish response, he gave an insanely sexy smile. ‘Keep giving me compliments like that and I might just fall for your charms.’

‘Sorry. My one compliment started and ended there.’

His smile slowly dimmed. ‘Shame.’

Before I could ask what he meant, the Weston twins returned to the stage.

Sam smiled and I cautioned myself not to get excited. ‘We love everything you stand for, Miss Nolan. My best friend and her fiancé stayed at your hotel the week before they got married and they adored it. We really want to go with you...’ my heart dropped as she paused and meshed her fingers together ‘...but on the basis of a two-year deal with The Mortimer Group attached as a possible future partner and Mr Mortimer as a consultant. For that we’ll offer Mr Mortimer a ten per cent share of our company.’

Damian shrugged. ‘It’s not the perfect deal but it’s interesting enough. I’m in.’ He glanced at me. His gaze wasn’t challenging. It was almost...hopeful.

Silence thrummed through the charged space.

Aware of the cameras trained on me, I cleared my throat. I was a strong, intelligent businesswoman. I couldn’t afford to crow at the win I sensed within reach or exhibit my fierce reluctance to have Damian attached to my business.

Besides...wasn’t this the perfect opportunity? His professional involvement would be abstract but he’d be within reach of the sexual plans I had in mind long enough for me to deliver that final coup de grâce my soul, and my pride, needed.

I plastered on a smile, aware that the fifteen-second suspenseful silence we’d agreed with the production team to add extra drama to the show was slowly ticking by.

Again, I met Damian’s gaze. Hope had given way to blatant, challenging hunger. One that dared me to come out and play. My skin grew hotter, that insane urge to tangle with him and win this time rushing through me again.

A two-year deal with the twins and Fantasy Rooms was the best thing that I could deliver to my hotel right now. It was the perfect platform from which to launch myself internationally, to show my mother that I could make an even better success of her parents’ business despite her doubts.

And by the end of that term I’d prove to the twins that they were better off with me in the long run than with Damian.

‘Have mercy, Neve. The suspense is killing us all,’ Damian mocked with a half-smile. ‘I know this is a TV show but do you want your potential new partners to have heart attacks before they sign on the dotted line?’

A little embarrassed, I glanced over at the twins, who were staring at me with identical expressions of apprehensive hope.

Tyler’s imploring brown gaze met mine and a part of me grew excited for them because their dream was coming true.

Perhaps it was a little foolish to lay my heart on the line for them but I intended to protect their business just as fiercely as I would mine so they’d never know the kind of betrayal I’d felt at the hands of Damian Mortimer.

Fortified by that belief, I nodded. ‘I’m in.’

Sam gave a shocked, ecstatic gasp. Tyler’s smile stretched wide as he fist-pumped. My own smile widening, I stood and approached them.

‘Thank you,’ Sam gushed.

‘I’m excited...we’re both excited you’re on board,’ Tyler said as he held onto my hand, still grinning wildly.

The camera zoomed in, and I sensed Damian approach. My stomach dipped as I felt heat from his body caress mine.

‘Congratulations,’ he offered, shaking Sam’s hand.

His gaze slid to where mine was still held in Tyler’s and narrowed imperceptibly.

The observation sent a pulse of electricity through me but I ignored it. The other Raiders joined us, offered congratulations of their own.

Damian thrust his hand at Tyler. They shook hands abruptly as the director shouted cut.

‘We’re so glad you’re on board, Miss Nolan. You’re our inspiration, the reason we decided to come on the show,’ Sam said with a wide smile.

‘I’m beginning to feel like a spare part,’ Damian drawled, brittle amusement tilting his lips.

‘No,’ Tyler piped up. ‘We hoped you’d be on board too but Nevirna was always our target. No offence.’

‘None taken. For your sake, I hope your gamble pays off,’ Damian said in a cool tone.

‘So what happens now?’ Sam asked me.

‘Now I get my lawyers to put together a contract package. I expect Mr Mortimer will also do the same. But before that I’d love to see a real-life sample of your work.’ I already had my ideal fantasy room in mind.

‘Of course,’ Tyler responded immediately. ‘We’d love to show you a full scale of our work. We put a few of our outfitters on notice on the off-chance we might need them. We’re at your disposal to start immediately if you wish.’

Impressed by their forward thinking, I reached into my jacket and handed over my business card. ‘You’ll have my email with specifications within the hour and I’ll tell my hotel manager to expect your call. She’ll have a room ready for you to start on tomorrow. But that means you’ll have to travel to Westport tonight.’

‘No problem,’ Sam said.

‘And when you’re done with Neve’s place, you will do one of mine,’ Damian added. ‘I’d also like a demonstration before I fully commit.’ He addressed the twins but his gaze was fixed squarely on me.

Immediately lewd images invaded my brain, supplying reel after reel of every hot, dirty fantasy I wanted to indulge in with him.

‘Will it be at Mortimer Plaza?’ Sam’s excitement broke into my lurid thoughts.

Damian’s gaze darkened, as if he’d read my filthy fantasies. ‘I’ll decide on a location later. But we’ll both inspect the finished work to make sure we are on board. Which means I’m coming to Westport too. Any objections?’ He directed the question to me.

I forced an easy shrug, despite the wild blaze invading my pelvis. ‘Not at all.’

Damian shot a few pertinent questions at them. I parried with a few of my own. Then we parted company.

The moment our mics were taken off, Damian stepped closer. Against my will my breath caught, every sense vividly aware of the way his broad shoulders blocked out the rest of the room. Hell, even his five o’clock shadow made my fingers itch for its rough bristle against my skin.

‘You think you can let go now, express how you really feel?’ he rasped.

‘Excuse me?’

‘The buttoned-up poker face thing is great when you don’t want to give yourself away but surely you can crack a smile now you’ve won?’

‘I’ll consider it a true win when you’re not affiliated with any of this.’

Dammit.

I pressed my lips shut but it was too late.

Laser eyes narrowed. ‘Why does my presence bother you so much?’

‘It doesn’t,’ I snapped with excessive heat and instantly knew I’d left myself wide open to the dark speculation growing in his eyes.

‘Then you won’t object to a sit-down tonight to discuss the best way forward with this deal,’ he parried smoothly. So smoothly, I didn’t feel the shackles closing in until I was trapped.

He knew I’d planned to return home to Westport tonight, having heard me say as much to the director when we’d discussed the final segment of shooting.

But he wouldn’t throw me that easily.

I made the exaggerated show of looking at my watch. ‘I can delay my car service for an hour...’ I raised an eyebrow when he shook his head.

‘For a deal worth over half a million dollars, surely you’ll want to devote more time than a measly hour to this?’ he drawled in that laconic way that was at odds with the dangerous fire gleaming in his eyes.

I sucked in a slow steadying breath, aware that his gaze was moving over me again, lingering at my throat, on my breasts. Making me hot and hungry when I needed a cool head.

The goal here was sexual domination. My domination. My win. ‘Fine. I’ll give you two hours.’

He nodded. ‘Perfect for dinner. I’ll book us a table at Mortimer Plaza—’

‘No. I’m staying at the Wilton Grand. It has an excellent restaurant. I’ll make reservations.’ No way was I meeting him on his turf. To hell if that suggested I was a little scared of being seduced by the elegance and grandeur of his hotel all over again the way I was last time. I’d learned the hard way how to pick the weapons for my battles.

‘My driver’s outside. He’ll take us to your hotel,’ he said.

‘I have a few things to take care of first. We can meet at the restaurant at seven-thirty.’

He nodded after a brief hesitation. ‘Very well. I’ll even endeavour not to be late,’ he said with a touch of sexy mockery that irritated and made my breath catch at the same time.

This is where you walk away, Neve.

My feet refused to obey, because the way he was staring at my mouth made my pussy throb and clench with a furious need that excited me way too much. He prowled another step closer and somehow my back was against one of the Chinese frames and we were hidden from view of the crew.

‘Neve.’

God. His voice. Low. Sexy. Deep.

The craving he sparked terrified me. ‘Are we done here? I need to get going.’

He made an irritated little sound under his breath. ‘I’m looking forward to dinner. It might even give us the chance to put all this...hostility to bed.’

The mention of bed immediately conjured up more explicit images that made my thighs clench and my nipples hard. To redress the sensation of being so...off balance in his presence, I subtly leaned towards him, gratified when his gaze dropped to my mouth for the umpteenth time this evening.

Slowly, I slicked my tongue over my lower lip and smiled when his breath caught. ‘You know what? I’m actually looking forward to seeing you try.’

My mental fist-pump as hunger spiked in his eyes stayed with me all the way back to my hotel and through my quick shower. Right up until my phone beeped with an unwanted reminder as I was slipping on my dress.

Call Mom.

My finger hovered over the delete button only to be knocked away by surging guilt and the reminder of the promise I’d made to try, no matter what. The weight of my grandparents’ own pain for the bond they’d never managed to forge with their own daughter burrowed deeper into my heart. Stomach clenched with nerves I should’ve been used to by now, I hit the call button, a quiet obstinacy not to fail at this too urging me on.

She answered on the fourth ring.

‘Hey, Mom.’

A pulse of silence. ‘Neve. I was beginning to think you’d permanently lost my number.’

Relief darted through me at her sharp tone. She hadn’t hit the bottle. Yet. ‘Sorry. I’ve been a little busy.’

‘Of course you have. Chasing another overambitious venture, I expect? I don’t suppose you listened to my advice and dropped that silly TV show gimmick?’

Relief was replaced with a spiky ache that tunnelled deep. ‘No. I went ahead with it. The exposure will be good for business.’ I wasn’t going to mention Fantasy Rooms. Not until it was a done deal.

She made a derisive sound under her breath. ‘I guess we’ll see, won’t we?’

My fingers tightened around the phone, suspecting what was coming. ‘Mom—’

‘Did you stop to think how your grandparents would feel about you turning their place into a spectacle?’

Tears prickled my eyes. I blinked them back. ‘They knew how much I loved the place so I hope they’d be proud. I hope they’d be pleased that I managed to hang onto it instead of selling when times got hard.’

Like you wanted me to.

‘You mean when you were forced to change the name of the hotel my father chose so your mistake didn’t follow you around?’

‘It made good business sense to rebrand. Start fresh,’ I argued.

‘You think you know better than me, don’t you?’

I sighed. ‘No. I just... I just wish—’

She laughed, a bitter sound that scraped my nerves. ‘Wishes are for fools, Neve. All the wishing in the world didn’t stop your father from leaving us. From erasing us from his life like we were nothing and hightailing it back to England.’

The pain in my gut intensified. ‘You could have gone back with him like he wanted. We could’ve still been a family—’

‘Are you saying that was my fault?’ she asked sharply, and just like that we were back inside the vicious little circus of resentment and recrimination that had peppered our lives from the moment my father had walked out the door.

I fought to keep my voice even. ‘No, Mom. I’m not saying that.’ But the part of me that had always judged her a little for her decisions wouldn’t be soothed. From the letters I’d discovered as a teenager, Richard Nolan had loved his wife. Enough to uproot his life to follow her to the States. Enough to forgive her first infidelity and the many that had followed. It was only after I was born that my father had put his foot down. He’d thrown down the gauntlet of his desertion in the hope that she would come to her senses. She hadn’t. He’d walked away.

Seven years later he was dead and I was left with a parent who’d spent the best years of her life looking for love and validation in all the wrong places.

I swallowed my knotted heartache and lowered the phone long enough to check the time. ‘I have to go, Mom.’

She didn’t respond for a long moment. ‘New Jersey isn’t the other side of the world, Neve.’

It felt like it most days. ‘I know. I’ll visit when I can.’

I ended the call with shaking fingers and lacerated emotions. I straightened my spine and attempted to pull myself together. My problems with my mother weren’t going to go away any time soon. But I was going to be late to dinner if I didn’t move my ass.

I was shown to our table mere minutes before Damian walked through the restaurant. His laser-sharp gaze fixed on me as he strode through the room, again oblivious to the heads he turned with the sheer jaw-dropping magnificence of his presence.

Even with the width of the table between us, his sexual dynamism hit me like a wild tropical wave. Right up until he froze, his eyes narrowing. ‘Is everything okay?’

I bit the inside of my lip, cursing the shaky composure that hadn’t quite righted itself since the call with my mother. ‘I’m fine.’

He sat down, no...he lounged as if he owned the place, drawing attention to the dark olive-green shirt that clung to his streamlined torso, the open collar revealing a swathe of hair-dusted skin that made me itch with that infernal need. The casual jacket and matching trousers were also dark, the overall effect nothing short of spectacular.

When he flicked open the single button to his jacket, I shifted in my seat, desperately wishing I were immune to his obscenely handsome face. A little perturbed, I busied myself powering off my phone, while attempting to tamp down my body’s involuntary reaction, deny the effect of that unnerving stare as it continued to sizzle deep inside me.

As there had been two years ago, there was a mildly puzzled texture to his stare that thrilled me with the possibility that he couldn’t help his visceral reaction to me.

Was that why he’d behaved so appallingly after our night together?

Why are you finding reasons to excuse his behaviour?

And what did it matter now, when I could use it to my advantage? ‘There are a hundred other deals out there that you could put your name to. Why are you intent on attaching yourself to Fantasy Rooms?’

His mouth twisted slightly and the heat lessened in his eyes. ‘So much for thinking this would be a cordial dinner.’

‘I don’t have time to beat around the bush.’

The waiter approached. Damian ordered a bottle of water, then raised his eyebrow at me.

‘A glass of Chablis, thanks.’

The waiter nodded and left.

Damian eyed me. ‘It’s a great business opportunity. The Mortimer Group owns thousands of hotel rooms across the world. A concept like this, with innovative marketing targeted at an exclusive clientele, could eventually add considerable revenue to the business. And once you get over your dislike of me you’ll realise this could be hugely beneficial to you too, regardless of my involvement. Or perhaps even because of it,’ he tagged on after a few seconds.

‘Deals struck on the show are binding, but there’s a cooling-off period, isn’t there?’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you attempting to insult me again?’

I shrugged. ‘I’m merely triple-checking facts.’

‘Triple-checking or trying to piss me off?’

I sent him a saccharine smile. ‘Which one suits you best?’

‘Careful, Neve, or you might get a reaction you’re not entirely ready for.’ His gaze didn’t stray from my face but I felt as if he’d stripped me bare, branded my skin with his words. And more.

‘I’m a big girl. I can handle myself. And while we’re discussing the subject of handling, let’s talk about your so-called role.’

One corner of his mouth tilted. ‘So-called? You make it sound imaginary.’

‘You know exactly what I’m talking about.’

‘You’re still hung up on rumours?’

I raised my eyebrow and waited.

‘Tell my why you looked troubled when I arrived and I’ll tell you.’

My stomach dropped in alarm. ‘We’re not here to get personal. We’re here to—’

‘Discuss business. I know. But my reasons are personal. And you’ve been probing all week. So those are my terms.’

‘I could get up and walk out of here. You know that, don’t you?’

‘And leave all those questions buzzing in your head unanswered? I don’t think so.’

I needed ammunition; to probe his weaknesses to achieve my own goals. If I had to give a little to gain a lot... ‘Phone call with my mother a little while ago. We have a...fraught relationship.’

His gaze remained steady on me. Penetrating. Almost...encouraging.

I dropped mine to the table, a little puzzled as to why I felt compelled to elaborate. ‘She’s my only remaining relative. The one I’ve had the longest relationship with even though it’s been difficult at best.’

‘And you hate failing. So you persevere,’ he stated simply.

Icy chills chased over my skin at those simple, insightful words. ‘I’m human. I don’t actively like failing.’

He continued to watch me, his gaze far too knowing. Slowly his expression altered, becoming... understanding. And not at all to what I wanted. ‘We both know it’s more than that. We’re all marked in some way by dynamics we can’t control until it’s too late. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.’

My instincts blared dire warnings. Much as they had two years ago. But I remained seated, arranging my own features into a question. One he was required to answer now I’d exposed a precious layer of my skin.

His lips compressed. ‘It’s true. I’m wrapping things up in the States. I’m returning to London in a matter of weeks.’

‘Because you’re bored?’

‘Because it’s long bloody overdue,’ he returned in a gruff whisper, as if the words were torn from his soul.

The waiter arrived, setting down our drinks with barely a murmur, as if afraid of disturbing the atmosphere. We ordered our food after a cursory look at the menu and I barely registered his retreat.

‘You sound as if it’s been a prison sentence.’ The mild scorn I attempted failed. In its place was a quietly churning urgency. A fierce need to understand this man. To understand why.

I wrapped my fingers around the bulb of my wine glass and waited.

His jaw rippled with tension. A shamefully heated part of me wanted to run my lips over the spot. To taste the chaos. ‘A prison sentence is finite, even if one’s release is via death. Mine is...fluid.’

‘And you think running from it will solve your problem?’

That bleak darkness I’d glimpsed two years ago blazed through his eyes. ‘You misunderstand. I’m done running from it. I’m returning to it.’

Facts gleaned from research clattered among the industry rumours I’d absorbed over time and informed my response. ‘You’re supposed to be co-CEO of The Mortimer Group and yet your title doesn’t state that.’

‘To be co-CEO I have to be an active member of the board. I’m currently not.’

‘Because of your fluid sentence?’

He cracked open his bottle of water, pouring it with an intense focus that made me think he wasn’t going to respond. Then he shrugged. ‘Like you, I don’t like failure. But I understand the wisdom of a tactical retreat. I didn’t expect mine to last three years.’

‘Who?’ I asked boldly.

Again, time stretched, a tensile cord that vibrated with every mercurial sensation that’d connected us since the moment we’d set eyes on each other.

It seemed a little obscene to be thinking of sex in this moment but the second his gaze clashed with mine, I was back on my knees in that hotel room, staring up at him with parted lips, inviting him to lose himself in me.

Intuitively, I knew he was in that moment too. His fingers curled a little too forcefully around his glass, his eyes gleaming with fiercer fire.

Through it all, my question clawed at the air between us. Demanding a response.

‘Gideon. My cousin. We had a disagreement. In hindsight, retreat was a mistake.’

His answers were bullet-sharp, wrapped in bitterness, a deeper, more potent strain of what I’d witnessed two years ago. Funny thing was it seemed aimed at himself.

This time I knew better than to entertain sympathy, to get carried away with even the remotest delusion of saving him. Hell, I couldn’t even save my own broken relationship with my mother.

‘What makes you think you can fix anything now? What makes you think you can reverse time and fix something you turned to ashes?’ I demanded with all the bitterness lodged in my heart.