bitterly. Not him. Not the love she needed and deserved. She’d rather go to hell and back than live without love in her life again. She wanted a different life for herself than the one her father had given her. Very different.
‘Hey!’ Suzie waved her hands between them. ‘Truce. What the hell went on between you two?’
‘Absolutely nothing.’ Meg felt as though her dormant wits had finally returned. She rose from the table. She had nothing to say or prove. Her life was perfect. She didn’t need Mr Jacob Adams for anything. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’m not hungry any more.’
Jake stood abruptly. ‘You can’t leave without giving me some answers.’
‘Watch me.’ Meg sauntered out, holding her breath, fighting against an avalanche of emotion, struggling to hold back the tears that stung behind her eyes.
She wasn’t going to let Jacob Adams back into her heart or her life. He’d done enough damage the first time round.
CHAPTER TWO
THE vibrant displays in Meg’s shopfront window went unnoticed for the first time. Even her assistants passed in a blur, their voices incoherent as Meg contemplated her conversation with Jake. She was already rehashing it in her mind, wishing she’d said things differently or not at all. If only the waiter had let her keep the menu…But she knew that she couldn’t have kept hiding for ever.
She pushed open the door to her private office. The large mahogany desk set against the pastel colours of the walls, the floral cushions adorning the cream sofa and the polished timber floor she had dreamt of for ages now all seemed meaningless. What had he done to her? Usually she found joy and satisfaction in the achievement of her own boutique. She’d struggled against the world, against the odds, and won.
In the space of a couple of minutes Jake’s magnetic green eyes had penetrated her carefully constructed world and destroyed her happiness, shattering her contentment. She sank into her chair behind the desk. Why had she gone out to lunch today?
Meg grimaced at Suzie’s dedication to shoving her out into the dating scene. Meg hadn’t been very co-operative. She’d pushed herself for the last twelve months, trying to break into the exclusive designer world while juggling a hectic private life. Men, although not the last thing on her mind, were an unnecessary complication, an issue she could do without. But Suzie had other plans.
‘Meg?’ Her secretary, Joyce, tapped on the door and entered. ‘Are you all right? You look terrible.’
‘I’m fine.’ Meg stiffened. ‘Lunch just didn’t go to plan, that’s all.’ She fiddled with her pen and tried to avoid Joyce’s perceptive eyes. Joyce had been with her almost from the start, but still Meg couldn’t bring herself to tell her everything. To tell her the truth about her life.
Joyce pushed her thin-framed glasses up her nose and approached the desk. She dropped a couple of files in front of Meg. ‘Did you and Suzie have a falling out?’
Meg wished it was that easy. It was usual for Suzie and she not to see eye to eye on quite a few issues, and Suzie had the awful habit of telling Meg exactly what she thought in the bluntest way. Meg was the first to admit that Suzie was an acquired taste, but Joyce was way off the mark this time.
‘You could say that.’ Meg bit her lip. Or rather Suzie had been all for falling in while she’d fallen flat. ‘I’ll call her later.’
‘A reporter called and wanted an interview.’ Joyce straightened the papers on her desk. ‘I said I’d have to check with you.’
Meg sighed and picked up a file. It had had to come, she supposed. Her designs had done well in a fashion show last week, and it was only natural the media and the public were interested in who she was and where she’d come from. Only she wasn’t ready to tell. Not yet. ‘Can you stall him? I’m so busy at the moment.’
‘Are you sure?’ Joyce appeared unconvinced. She dithered around the room, dusting the knick-knacks Meg liked to scatter over the shelves.
‘Back to the grind,’ Meg hinted.
Joyce stopped at the door and patted her coloured hair into place before turning the handle. ‘Your one o’clock has arrived early.’
‘No worries. Send her in.’ Better to get stuck into work than dwell on Jake and her traitorous body. How could he still affect her like that?
‘It’s a him. By himself.’ Joyce closed the door.
A ‘him’ was unusual. She catered for rich women who wanted original outfits for exclusive events. In all the time she’d been in business not one man had come in on his own.
Meg stood up and smoothed down her red top, flicking the creases out of her black trousers. She positioned herself squarely behind her desk, primed to set a good first impression.
The door opened. ‘A Mr Jacob Adams,’ Joyce announced cheerily, hanging onto the doorhandle whilst admiring the visitor’s tall, well-proportioned figure as he walked in.
Meg stared dumbly at Jake.
It wasn’t as if her appointment book was empty. He’d either used his charm or his money on Joyce. Or he’d known well in advance where she was and their meeting today at the restaurant had been no accident. Meg tensed. ‘Thank you, Joyce,’ she said as calmly as she could manage.
Meg glared at Jake. How long had he known where she was? More importantly, how much did he know? Her knees gave out from under her and she disguised her collapse into her high-backed leather chair with as much dignity and grace as she could muster.
The door closed and she leant forward. ‘What the blazes are you doing here?’ She willed her weakness to vanish so she could come out of her corner fighting. There was no way she was coming out of this second best.
Jake stood there casually, looking as strong and confident on her turf as he would anywhere, she guessed. He carried with him an air of confidence that chafed. His hair seemed a little more ruffled and he’d opened another button on his shirt since lunch, revealing the light scattering of chest hair that she’d used to coil her fingers in.
He strode towards her. ‘I want answers.’
‘Well, get used to living with disappointment.’ She stood up, to feel less intimidated by his height, his breadth, his power. Her legs held.
What gave him the right to come and demand anything? He had chosen what was important to him and it wasn’t her. She had gone on without him, managing quite well, on and off. ‘What did you do? Bribe my secretary or use your deadly charm on her?’
‘Neither.’ He shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘I did it the old-fashioned way—I made an appointment over the phone three days ago.’
She pressed her lips together and swallowed the rumble of distrust in her belly. It wasn’t coincidence that she’d met him at the restaurant. ‘You haven’t been following me, have you?’
‘Your secretary assured me that my appointment fell just before your lunch hour, Meg. I had planned to invite you to eat with me, but you’d already gone when I stopped in earlier.’
He probably couldn’t
