One Night in the Orient. Robyn Donald
an unconscious air of command, of hard-edged, formidable authority.
He lowered himself into the chair her father had vacated and enquired, “What are you doing in London? Your parents didn’t say they were expecting you.”
“They weren’t,” she told him, still struggling for composure. “I surprised them by arriving yesterday out of the blue.”
“Are you on holiday?”
“No,” she said crisply. “I left my job.”
His brows were raised again. For once, she thought, startled by her satisfaction at the thought, she’d surprised him.
“Why? I thought you were happily settled managing some plant shop.”
Her parents must have told him, and Nick would have filed the information away in that computer brain of his.
Furious and alarmed by the swift surge of warmth that thought aroused, she said, “It wasn’t only a plant shop; I managed quite a big nursery as well.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Very much.”
Nick leaned back in his chair and surveyed her. Five years had made quite a difference; a slender blue dress skimmed her body, subtly hinting at tantalising curves beneath, and she’d highlighted the incredible blue of her eyes and her silky, translucent skin with a skilful use of cosmetics. She hadn’t quite managed to tame her tumble of ebony curls, and the gaze that met his was reserved, but he discerned a familiar hint of challenge in both eyes and attitude.
Ruthlessly he subdued his body’s spontaneous and exasperating response. “So why did you leave?”
She hesitated, then lifted her small square chin in a defiant movement he recognised. “The business was sold, and unfortunately the new owner decided I’d be perfect as a nice little bit on the side.”
Gripped by cold, uncompromising anger, Nick forced himself to control it. “And were you?”
Lips tightening, she lifted her hand and splayed the fingers to reveal an engagement ring. “Not interested. But it made for a difficult situation, so I left.”
Whatever he’d expected, it hadn’t been the sight of that ring. His anger mutated into an emotion he didn’t recognise, one he refused to face. He should be—he was—pleased she’d fallen in love. Presumably with someone who valued her, a man she could trust—unlike the one who’d taken her virginity and then walked out on her.
That ring and all it implied should go some way to easing his guilt.
It didn’t.
It took most of his iron self-control to say curtly, “With a handsome redundancy payment, I hope.”
“Absolutely.” She beamed at him, a smile that had always meant mischief. “I gave it to a charity for abused women. In his name. They were terribly grateful and no doubt will contact him regularly asking for further donations.”
Nick’s smile showed his teeth. “A nice little revenge—and typical of you. I assume you had a contract?”
“A contract I broke.”
“For reasons that could have seen your boss up before the employment court,” he said uncompromisingly. “What did your fiancé think of that?”
Siena’s eyes widened. Adrian had been angry about the situation, but he’d accepted her handling of it. “He was fine.” She hoped her voice didn’t sound as defensive as she felt.
Apart from a subtle narrowing of those coolly watchful eyes Nick’s expression didn’t change. “A rather muted response, surely?”
For him it would have been; even as an adolescent he’d been protective towards two small girls.
But Adrian was nothing like Nick. Adrian would never make love to her as though she was the only woman in the world, then leave the next morning without a word of explanation beyond a few curt phrases of apology for getting carried away.
Adrian wouldn’t break her heart.
“Not everyone has your killer instinct,” she told Nick with a taut smile. “Adrian knows I can deal with my own problems.”
Nick leaned back in his chair and let his gaze rest a moment on her ring finger. Siena had to repress a weird instinct to hide it protectively under the table.
Relentlessly he demanded, “So you walked out of a situation you should never have had to face, with nothing more than your wages, then decided to hop on a plane and meet your parents in London?”
She said cheerfully, “You must be a mind-reader.”
His smile was sharp, its humour almost mocking. “No, I happen to remember a wilful, determined child with a big heart. What do you intend to do once you get back home?”
“Find another job, of course.”
“Just like that?”
“Give me credit for some intelligence,” she said coolly. “I have extremely good references, both from my previous employer and the rat who propositioned me. And while I worked there I learnt a lot about landscaping as well.”
Nick nodded. “Your mother told me you’d planned the makeover of their garden. You did a good job—it looks superb.”
Hiding her pleasure at this, she said, “Gardening’s always been fashionable in New Zealand, and Auckland is a great place for it. Almost everything grows there.
As well, the recession has produced a huge surge of interest in being as self-sufficient as possible. Think vegetable gardens and home orchards. I’ll find a new position—a better one.”
“Still the same confident little thing,” he said in a tone tinged with irony. “Tiny and bossy and infuriatingly persistent.”
His summing up of her character stung. Producing her sunniest smile, she said, “Remind me to get a reference from you—it can only help.”
“Any time,” he said laconically. “So, having walked out of your job and on a point of principle donated money you should have put in the bank to a charity, it was an entirely logical decision for you to come to England?”
“It’s Mum and Dad’s thirtieth anniversary,” she explained.
He looked surprised. “They didn’t mention it when we had dinner together.”
“You know my parents.”
His arrogant features softened a little. “Yes. They wouldn’t have wanted any fuss.”
“We were going to have a party at home—just a small one—and then they planned just to fly over for their dream cruise, but they got a really good deal from one of the big travel firms, with a tour of the UK thrown in first. They weren’t going to take it, but Gemma wouldn’t have been able to make the party—she’s in Australia doing a big promotion for a fashion week there—so I persuaded them to go. And then I decided to come across for the actual day.”
He nodded. “And how did your fiancé feel about that?”
“Adrian?” She glanced across, met his burnished green gaze and felt a twinge of sensation in the pit of her stomach. Swiftly she said, “He thought it was a brilliant idea.”
“Clearly a very accommodating man.” Nick’s voice was sardonic.
Siena returned crisply, “Adrian comes from a big family in the South Island. He understands family dynamics.”
Too late, she remembered that Nick came from a dysfunctional marriage, and flushed, furious with herself. She was so foolishly conscious of him she couldn’t even organise her thoughts.
Nick gave her a narrow smile. “And I don’t?”
“I wasn’t referring to you.” She apologised.