lie, reluctant though she was to do so—she had a fairly certain idea that her mother would be on the phone the instant she arrived back at her flat that night, wanting a long cosy chat about ‘him’.
A picture of Noah Peverelle shot into her head. Oh, clear off! She must have been mad to have telephoned him—but he hadn’t sounded so unpleasant when she had overheard him in the Montgomery. True, he had been with a trusted friend. Goodbye, bad idea.
Elexa got on with her day, getting the best out of her team and spending time communicating with clients, solving problems as and when they arose. She was late leaving her office, and drove home wondering how, when she was said to have excellent judgement in the market planning division and to be little short of fantastic when it came to planning, it seemed she didn’t appear to have one solitary skill when it came to solving her own problems.
She let herself into her apartment and went over to the phone and punched one-four-seven-one; her mother had phoned ten minutes ago.
Elexa made herself a cup of coffee, anticipating that at any moment now she would be summoned to the phone.
It was not the phone that rang for her attention, however, but, while she was mid-rehearsal with the best way to confess that there was no ‘steady’ man-friend, the outer door buzzer sounded.
She wasn’t expecting anyone to call, but went to the intercom in the hall. ‘Who is it?’ she asked lightly, and nearly dropped dead with shock.
‘Noah Peverelle,’ answered a cool, not-at-all-friendly-sounding voice.
No! Brain-stunned, Elexa couldn’t think for several seconds. Then, reeling from so unexpectedly hearing what she had just heard, and with thoughts of how in creation he had managed to find her—let alone why had he bothered to find her—Elexa made a tremendous effort to get herself together.
He was waiting for her to let him in. He had said his name, dropped his bombshell, and had nothing more he wanted to say apparently—until they were standing face to face.
She swallowed hard on a suddenly desert dry throat. ‘You’d—better come up,’ she invited—she had no option—and pressed the button to unlatch the downstairs front door, and wished more than she had wished anything in her life that she had never made that phone call to him yesterday.
But phoned him she had, and it was too late now for wishing—Noah Peverelle was on his way up to see her, and must have gone to quite some trouble to find her!
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