she tried, swallowing first to ease her dry throat, and Nick demanded sharply, “What’s the matter?”
“N-nothing.” Again her voice betrayed her.
“Siena, I’ll be around straight away.”
“No!”
But he’d already cut the connection, and after a moment she hung up.
That damned protective instinct, she thought, staring wretchedly down at the half-empty teacup.
She couldn’t go out to dinner feeling as though everything that was inside her—heart, passion, laughter and joy—had been scooped out and thrown away, leaving only a shell.
Like Gemma, Nick was accustomed to attention. Even when he’d been a teenager girls had flocked after him, and as he’d grown they’d become more importunate. His meteoric success helped too, she thought with a flash of cynicism.
Once her mother had said with wry amusement, “All it takes is for that green gaze to drift over some woman’s face, and she’s hooked. It’s as though he’s a magnet.”
Last night almost every woman in the restaurant had given him several intrigued glances, many openly admiring, drawn as much by his leashed, potent energy as his boldly handsome face and that compelling aura that subtly signalled his prowess as a lover.
That thought sent a peculiar shiver down her spine. Ignoring it, she reached for the phone, only to pull back her hand when she realised she didn’t know Nick’s number. And after minutes of fruitless searching she realised he wasn’t listed either. She tried his office, only to be told by some smooth-voiced receptionist that he was unavailable.
Balked, Siena got up wearily and looked out of the window onto the street below. It blurred, and she blinked ferociously to clear an onslaught of tears. Perhaps a shower would clear her head.
She made it short, but when she emerged, fully dressed in case Nick had somehow persuaded the reception clerk to give him a key, her cell phone summoned her.
This time it was Louise.
Ten minutes later Siena put down her cell phone, her friend’s strained words still echoing in her ears. “It’s my father-in-law,” she’d said. “He’s had a stroke, and Ivan’s mother’s at her wits’ end with two younger children at home, so we’re going up tomorrow. I’m so sorry, Siena, but it’s impossible for you to stay with us now. But the cottage is here, and we—oh, Siena, I was so looking forward to seeing you …”
Siena had refused the offer of the cottage and done her best to reassure her, but now she stared around the hotel room as though she’d never seen it before.
“What now?” she said aloud, then caught herself up.
No need to feel it was the end of the world. So it had all happened at once, but friends had emergencies and parents went on long-anticipated cruises.
And fiancés fell in love with someone else.
Nobody ever died of a broken heart. Eventually this dull pain would ease.
She dragged in a sharp stabbing breath. She’d organise her return journey to New Zealand, then go down and wait for Nick in the foyer, tell him she couldn’t go out to dinner with him.
She would, she thought tautly, be extremely boring company, and he’d probably only asked her because he knew her parents were leaving and she’d be alone.
In effect, he’d behaved just like the brother he considered himself to be.
Nick saw her as soon as he entered the foyer. She hadn’t noticed him, and something about the way she was sitting made him frown, and quicken his pace. A friend had once described her—patronisingly—as “a taking little thing”. Tiny and black-haired, with eyes so blue they were a startling contrast to her porcelain skin, she certainly looked doll-like—except for her mouth. Lush, sensuously curved, her mouth was a delicious miracle made for smiles—and kisses.
Now it was pinched, and set in a straight line. She was holding herself stiffly, warding off an invisible blow. Nick swore under his breath and increased the length of his stride.
It was impossible to link Siena with the word defeat, but that was how she looked—as though she’d been knocked to the ground so roughly she couldn’t be bothered getting up again. And she certainly wasn’t dressed for dinner.
Her parents …?
“What’s the matter?” he demanded from two strides away.
She blinked as though she didn’t recognise him. Then with a brave attempt at her usual spark she said, “Oh, a couple of things, but it’s not the end of the world.”
Nothing had happened to Hugh and Diane, then. Hiding his relief, he said more moderately, “So tell me.”
The hands in her lap tensed. No ring, he realised.
What the hell—?
She said, “Well, I think I mentioned I was going to stay with a friend in Cornwall, but that’s off.”
Nick listened to her explanation, nodding when she finished. “So what are you going to do?”
Her white teeth dented her curved bottom lip. Nick’s gut tightened in spontaneous appreciation of that succulent mouth. Damn it, asking her out had been a bad idea; he should never have succumbed to the questionable impulse.
Getting to her feet, she said in a rigidly controlled voice, “I’m trying to get a flight back home.”
“And?”
“So far no luck, but I’ll keep at it.” Nick frowned. “So you’ve got a week to spend in London?”
She shook her head. “No.” “Why?”
“Can’t afford it,” she admitted, lifting her chin to give him a direct glance that glittered a challenge. “I have to go home.”
Now was not the time to press her about the absence of her engagement ring. He owed it to her parents to make sure she was all right. “We can discuss your options over dinner. Come on.”
After a moment’s hesitation she shook her head. “I’d really rather not, Nick. I’m not dressed—”
“It’s all right. We’ll eat at my place.”
He saw her waver and felt an odd, irritating triumph when she nodded.
“Very well,” she said quietly, as though too tired to protest further. But once she got up she made a final objection. “Nick, I’m probably not going to be very good company.”
“Why?”
“Oh, nothing important.” Her voice was stronger, more like the Siena he knew.
You’re lying. And you’ll tell me what’s going on before the evening’s out, he thought. The Siena he remembered wouldn’t have let a change in plans affect her like this.
She
