Dreaming Of... Bali: The Man to Be Reckoned With / Nine Month Countdown / Harry St Clair: Rogue or Doctor?. Fiona McArthur
are doing this out of some twisted need for revenge. That’s it. You want to torture me, guilt me and then—”
He grinned, and his blue eyes glittered. Her knees wobbled. “Have you always been this prone to drama or is it me that brings it out in you?”
How she wanted to say he affected her in no way, but they would both know she was lying. Better instead to focus on fighting it. “Why the sudden change of heart, then?”
“A strong sense of familial duty? A core made of kindness?”
Rolling her eyes, she swatted him. Deftly, he caught her hand in his.
Her breath stuck in her throat. Her fingers moved over his in the dark, registering the different texture of his palm—rough and abrasive, devoid of any softness, so different from her own.
It was his absolute stillness next to her, just as powerful as that latent energy, that made her realize what she was doing.
She jerked her hand away, the air she had been holding rushing out of her.
What the hell was she doing, pawing him like that? He was her employer, her enemy...
No man had been so dangerous to her internal balance as him. No man had ever spun her senses so easily.
Rubbing shaking fingers over her face, she struggled to think back to their conversation. “You’re agreeing to see Robert, then?”
“If you give me a date now as to when you will sign the deed over to me.”
“Stay here in San Francisco until their wedding. See Robert, let him speak to you. And I’ll sign over the estate the day after the wedding. Also, none of my staff will be made redundant. When this is all over, I want you to go away and leave Travelogue alone. Forever.”
“That depends on if Travelogue stays intact that long.”
“If you give us a fair chance, I have no doubt it will.”
His eyes gleamed ferociously. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, setting conditions to sell my mother’s house back to me.”
“You’re a billionaire, you’re your own boss and as far as I understand, you have no one in your life that you’re answerable to. What’s two months in the big picture of your life, Nathan?”
“Everything, Riya.” There was no humor in his smile now, only a dark warning. “This is your last chance to let it go.”
She didn’t take even a beat to think it over. “No. Robert...he...I’ll do anything for him.”
His curious silence swathed her and Riya felt like the rabbit in the story her father had told her when she was little. The rabbit had gone into the lion’s den, determined to change his mind about eating one animal every day.
At that point, she had stuck her fingers in her ears and begged him not to continue. A few days after that, she and Jackie had left. Her father had never seen her again, never called her, never sent a birthday card.
For years, she had wondered if he thought of her, hoped he would write to her, call Jackie to ask about her.
Only utter and absolute silence had greeted her hopes.
Now...now she didn’t even remember his face clearly. On the road with Jackie, hearing her crying at night, not knowing where they would go next—it had been the most uncertain time of her life. Until Jackie had met Robert and he had taken them to his estate, Riya had thought she would never know a stable home again.
And to see Robert ache to see Nathan, to speak a few words to him, she couldn’t back down now. Not when Nathan was finally here.
“Fine. Come to work Monday morning.”
She saw the shadow of something in his eyes—a promise, a challenge.
“I’ll stay two months. I’ll even dance with you at the wedding.”
“I don’t want to dance with—”
“You started this, Riya. I’m going to finish it.”
She breathed in cold gulps of air, only then seeing the faint shape of a chopper. “Stop saying my name like that,” she said, not sure when the words had exactly left her lips.
Frowning, he stepped closer. “Am I saying it wrong?”
There was that strange little tension again. Winding around them, tugging at them.
“No. I just...we’re...”
The helicopter blades began whirring, and he bent toward her to make himself heard. A firestorm danced through Riya as his breath played on her nape.
It was a heated brand, a molten caress. The simple touch of his fingers on her waist as she swayed seared through the cotton of her shirt.
“Mr. Ramirez and Ms. Mathur are too formal when we’re going to work in close quarters for a couple of months. And calling each other brother and sister, especially when we...” Her heart drummed in her ears, a flash of heat bursting all over her as he paused dramatically. “...obviously don’t like each other will just earn us a place on a daytime soap opera, don’t you think?
“Nathan and Riya, it has to be.”
She felt his smile instead of saw it, the faint graze of his beard against her jaw making her hyperaware of him. He lifted his head and Riya stared mutely at the striking beauty of the planes of his face.
All wicked, from the twinkle in his eyes to the dimples in his cheeks. And sexy all the way.
“See you Monday morning.” He stepped back, sending her heart pitter-pattering all over her chest. “And FYI, I’m what they call an exacting boss.”
By the time Riya walked the long way around the acreage back to the house, she was hungry and tired and her head hurt.
Turning the gleaming antique handle on the side door into the kitchen, she stepped in. Even though her stomach rumbled, all she wanted was to get into bed and forget that this day had happened.
She couldn’t believe that Drew had sold her out so easily, couldn’t believe what she had set in motion. And of all things, she couldn’t believe the sharp and stringent quality of her awareness of Nathan, of his every word and gesture, of the flash of the same awareness in his. But she had no doubt, where she was floundering and flailing in the wake of it, it was nothing but a game to him.
The overhead ceiling lights came on, bathing her in a blaze of light.
Jackie stood near the curving staircase, her eyes glittering with fear and fury. “If you knew he was coming, why didn’t you stop him?”
Guilt settling heavily on her shoulders, Riya sighed. If only life were as simple as her mom thought it was. “It’s his estate we’re living in. One of these days, he was bound to return.”
“Just when Robert has finally agreed to the wedding and—”
Unable to hear another word of her mom’s self-absorption, she cut across her. “Robert will be happy to see him. I can’t just send him away, even if I wanted to.”
Her elegant hands wringing in front of her, Jackie walked around the huge dining table. “What does he want with you?”
“He wants the estate back.”
“No,” Jackie said, her tone rising, her gaze stricken. “He’ll probably just kick us out if you do that. You can’t—”
Even as she wished her mother would think of Riya’s feelings for once, she softened her tone. Whatever her weaknesses, Jackie had found stability and peace here with Robert and the estate. “I can’t stop him from taking what is rightfully his, Jackie.”
Jackie’s gaze zoomed somewhere far away, and Riya locked out the urge to shake her mom. That look meant nothing she said was going to get through to her now. “I don’t care what you have to do.