.

bus. But any composure he might have displayed as his past and his present collided had been shot to pieces by the sight of her at the fashion show.

      From the moment he’d arrived at the glamorous event she’d been on his mind. Instead of scoping out the guests for a beautiful and sophisticated distraction as he’d planned, he’d replayed the vision of her pleasure, rapt and clinging to him, her glorious mouth swollen from his kisses and her cries of ecstasy echoing around inside his skull, until the catwalk show had blurred before his eyes.

      Then an inexplicable burn at the back of his neck had forced him to turn around. And there she was. As immaculate as ever but cloaked with an air of vulnerability. He’d watched her, shadowed in a dark corner, his whole body shocked into nerve-tingling life. A quick scan of the previously untouched programme in his lap and he’d slotted all the pieces together.

      And then Alex had correctly guessed that the woman on the end of the Morris deal was the one that got away. No, ran away. He knew his cousin just as well as Alex knew him and Alex’s searching stare spoke a thousand words.

      Her face at his cousin’s playful jibe haunted Jack—he’d supplied the ammunition to embarrass her over the botched contract. He’d never seen her anything but composed.

      He clenched his fists. She’d looked as if she’d taken a blow to the chest. She’d shuttered the flash of hurt behind her huge luminous eyes, shot him a fuck you look and swanned away with a sway of her sexy ass.

      He understood that the Morris Building, her plans for it, formed a personal crusade, but surely someone in her team should have spotted the clerical error his lawyers and hers were currently untangling. Didn’t she have a scapegoat to blame?

      He slammed out onto the landing. Why did he even care that she’d been humiliated? Why was he so knotted up over this? He never allowed personal to interfere with business. Perhaps it originated in his persistent sexual frustration—he’d failed to get laid, despite a steady stream of interested looks from the abundant women here tonight.

      But once he’d seen Harley again, he hadn’t been able to muster one tenth of the enthusiasm she inspired. Perhaps the revenge fuck idea carried more merit than he’d acknowledged.

      He snorted out his frustration. He’d go home, have a second cold shower and try to wipe Harley from his mind.

      But at the top of the stairs, he halted.

      She stood on the next landing down, her focus on the phone clutched in her hand as she paced, worrying at her lip. He slowed his stride, taking the stairs at an easy pace while he willed his heart rate and breathing into submission.

      He paused three stairs above her. At least he’d have a chance to apologise for Alex’s clumsy comments. He should never have mentioned the Morris deal to his cousin—business indiscretions were beneath them both.

      ‘Libby loved your collection.’

      Harley looked up, her hand flying to her chest.

      He should have coughed, warned her he was there. He offered an apologetic tilt of his head. ‘She said you understood real women’s bodies.’

      She recovered quickly, cold eyes darting away to street level.

      ‘Thank you.’ She glanced back down at the screen of her phone as if he weren’t there. He deserved that—he should have been more circumspect. But he’d voiced his frustration to Alex before he’d discovered it was Harley behind the Morris deal.

      And he owned his mistakes, big and small.

      ‘I’m sorry about earlier... Alex.’ A shrug. ‘I’d mentioned my latest deal was held up because of an oversight. I didn’t know of your identity at the time.’

      ‘Don’t worry about it.’ She shook her head, a humourless grin on her face as if she expected nothing less. ‘I’m used to making mistakes and paying the price. And who you choose to gossip with is none of my business.’ She glanced down the stairwell, her bottom lip taking another punishing.

      What the fuck did that mean?

      ‘I don’t gossip. I discussed a stalled deal with a business colleague.’

      And he’s an insightful pain in the ass with a really good memory.

      ‘You’re upset.’ His hand inside his pants pocket curled into a fist. ‘He was just teasing. He’s English.’

      He thought she might smile at his outrageous explanation, but she shot him a frosty look and then returned her attention to her phone, which buzzed with an incoming text.

      He took another step closer.

      ‘Why are you upset?’ Why did he care? He should walk away now. He’d proved his point both in relation to their aborted contract and their newfound sexual chemistry.

      Her glare wavered, as if she grew fatigued by the weight of it. ‘I’m not upset. I’m...disappointed with myself.’ She deflated.

      ‘Mistakes happen.’ He willed himself to stay on the stair. ‘The lawyers should have picked this one up sooner.’

      She shook her head. ‘I’m responsible.’ She looked up at him then, her eyes deep pools of vulnerability. ‘I have dyslexia.’ Just as quickly she looked away, her shoulders rolling back so she was once again composed and untouchable. ‘I usually triple check everything then ask my assistant to triple check too. I guess I was just so keen to start the renovations...’

      This time she used her finger to push her bottom lip between her teeth, her gaze distant as if she was lost to her self-flagellation.

      Pieces of the puzzle slotted into place. This wasn’t his problem. So she’d messed up. So she’d confided something intensely personal. So she carried a lifelong learning challenge.

      It changed nothing.

      His feet moved as if of their own accord. He took the last two stairs until they shared the small landing.

      ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

      She lifted her chin, her stare hard.

      ‘Why would I have told you? I’d just met you. And I already felt foolish enough.’ Her shoulders lifted a notch and he quashed the crazy urge to touch her. To wipe away the small frown crinkling her forehead.

      ‘But you haven’t just met me.’ He shoved the other hand into his pants pocket, away from temptation.

      ‘I didn’t know that about you.’

      She shook her head, eyes darting away.

      All those holidays, the time they’d spent together—she’d never once mentioned dyslexia and neither had her family. Perhaps she was only mildly affected? No, that wouldn’t explain her obvious disappointment in herself.

      ‘I... I struggled to talk about it back then.’ She lifted her gaze to his—clear, unguarded. ‘It’s not easy being the dunce in a high-achieving family.’

      Something visceral shifted in his chest, and his throat tightened. What the actual fuck...? He knew Hal Jacob was a world-class asshole, but surely he valued his daughter and her extensive achievements?

      Not your problem. Keep walking.

      Her phone beeped again. She read the text with a curse.

      ‘Problem?’ So he was a glutton for punishment.

      She sighed, her shoulders sagging. ‘There are press outside. My driver is stuck.’ Her eyes slid to his—fatigue-tinged and wary.

      ‘Camera shy?’ Surely she was used to that. He’d seen her photographed many times over the years at some high-profile event or charity gala. She was New York elite after all, her status rendering her practically a celebrity.

      She pinned him with a hard stare.

      ‘I wanted to keep a low profile tonight. The other designers...’ She sighed. ‘I know how hard it is,