strength of his own feelings, Mal strode to the huge glass windows that enveloped her office and reminded himself that his reason for being here had nothing to do with his past relationship with this woman. That was irrelevant. It had to be irrelevant. ‘Nice views. You’ve done extraordinarily well for yourself. Your business is booming while others fold.’
‘Why do you find it extraordinary? I work hard and I understand my market.’
Her reply made him smile but he kept that smile to himself. ‘Less than five minutes together and already you’re picking a fight.’
‘You’re the one who landed a helicopter on my roof and barged into my office. I would say you were the one picking the fight, Mal.’
For the first time in weeks he felt the energy flow through him. Not to anyone would he have admitted how good it felt to have someone speak without restraint. To argue with him. To challenge—
‘I was merely congratulating you on the astonishing growth of your business in a difficult economic climate.’
‘You could have done that in an email. I have absolutely no idea why you’re here or why you’ve been phoning me every two minutes but I’m assuming you don’t want to talk about guest lists or colour schemes.’
‘I am not remotely interested in the details of the party. That is your job.’
‘For once we’re in agreement. And now I’d be grateful if you’d leave so that I can do that job.’
Sufficiently energized, he turned. ‘No one but you would dare speak to me like that.’
‘So fire me, Mal. Go on. Do it. Take your business elsewhere.’ Those eyes locked on his and he wondered why she would be encouraging him to back out of what must be for her a prime piece of business. Under the perfectly applied make-up, she looked tired. His gaze slid to her hands and he saw her fiddling nervously with the pen she was holding.
Avery never fiddled. Avery was never nervous.
His attention caught, he watched her for a moment, trying to read her. ‘I’m not firing you.’
‘Then at least get to the point. Why are you here?’
‘I’m here because at the moment the party cannot go ahead. Something crucial is missing.’
The mere suggestion that something might be less than perfect had her bristling defensively as she always did if anyone so much as questioned her competence. That beautifully shod foot tapped the floor. Those eyes narrowed as she mentally scrolled through the checklist she kept permanently updated in her head. ‘I can assure you that nothing is “missing”, Mal. I have been over the plans meticulously and checked every last detail personally. It will all be absolutely as planned.’
She had complete confidence in her own ability and that confidence was justified because Avery Scott never overlooked anything. Nothing escaped her. Her attention to detail drove her team mad. It had driven him mad, and yet at the same time he’d admired it because she’d built herself a successful business on the back of nothing but her own hard work. This woman had never freeloaded in her life. Nor had she ever asked anyone for anything. She was the first woman he’d met who wasn’t interested in anything he had to offer.
For a moment he felt a pang of regret, but regret was a sentiment he couldn’t afford and he moved on quickly.
‘You misunderstand me. I’m sure that everything your company has planned is perfect, as ever.’
‘So if that is the case, what can possibly be missing?’
Mal paused, hesitating because he was about to trust her with information that he hadn’t entrusted to another living soul. Even now he was wondering whether coming here had been a mistake.
‘What am I missing? The most important thing of all,’ he drawled softly. ‘I’m missing my bride.’
‘YOUR bride?’ The word clung to her dry mouth. Oh God, she was cracking up. The effort of holding it together was just too much. It was bad enough that he was here in person, but the fact that he was here to talk about his bride was a double blow. Did he have no tact? No sensitivity at all?
Shock cut through the sickness she felt at seeing him. She needed to think, but that was impossible with him dominating her office in that sleek dark suit that emphasised the width of those shoulders and the muscular strength of his powerful frame. It bothered her that she noticed his body. It bothered her even more to feel the answering response in her own. This office was her personal space. Having it invaded by him felt difficult and she hated the fact that it felt difficult because she so badly wanted to feel nothing. She was used to being in control of herself at all times. Wanted it most of all at this time.
But as that control slipped from her, she felt a buzz of panic. Over the past year she’d turned off news coverage about economic and political stability in his country. Even though her company was responsible for the evening party to follow his wedding, she’d averted her eyes from stories about that event. If she didn’t need to read it, she didn’t read it. When their paths crossed at events she was organizing or attending as a guest, she restricted their contact to a brief nod across a crowded room even though the only man in the room she ever saw was him. She’d avoided it all in an attempt to regain control of her life and her feelings. Everything she did, she did to protect herself. Mal had hurt her. And he’d hurt her so badly that seeing him now brought her right back to the edge.
What frightened her most wasn’t the sense of power and authority that could subdue a room full of people, nor was it his spectacular looks, even though the lethal combination of dark masculinity and perfect musculature was sufficient to make happily married women contemplate infidelity. No, what frightened her—what made her truly vulnerable—was the sensual gleam in those dangerous black eyes.
He was the most sexual man she’d ever met. Or maybe it was just their history that made her think that about him.
The look he gave her was reserved for her and her alone. It was a look that blatantly acknowledged a past she would rather have forgotten. It made every interaction deeply personal and the last thing she wanted was personal. She wanted to forget every intimacy they’d ever shared.
He was marrying another woman.
Remembering that, she kept her tone neutral and refused to let herself respond to that velvety dark gaze that threatened to strip away every defence she’d constructed between them. This wasn’t about her. It was about his bride.
‘Kalila is missing?’ Despite her own tangled emotions and natural instinct for self-preservation, she felt a rush of concern. She’d met Kalila on a few occasions and had found her friendly, if rather shy. The girl had seemed more than a little overwhelmed by the Prince even though they’d reportedly known one another for years. ‘Are you saying she’s been kidnapped or something?’
‘No, not kidnapped.’
‘But if she’s missing, how can you be so sure she hasn’t been kidnapped? I mean, she is a princess. I suppose there are people who—’
‘A note was delivered to me.’
‘A note?’ Her brain wasn’t working properly. All she could think about was him. ‘But—’
‘Not a ransom note. A note from her.’
‘I don’t understand.’ It was a struggle to concentrate. Looking at him sent images chasing into her head. Images that usually only haunted her when she slept.
‘She has run away—’ The words were offered up with obvious reluctance and Avery stared at him in silence. And that silence stretched so long that in the end he broke it with an impatient gesture. ‘Her reasons are irrelevant.’
‘Irrelevant?’ She shook her head to clear