Affairs Of The Heart. Rebecca Winters

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course I’m up to it. But Damien, I need to tell you that—’

      His body jerked up in his seat. ‘That what? You’re not thinking of leaving the company, are you? That would be damned inconvenient after promoting you. I’m relying on you to see this new campaign through.’

      ‘No, nothing like that. Not unless you think I should.’

      ‘Why would I think that?’

      ‘Well, it’s just that…’

      She paused, aware of a disturbance down the hall which was rapidly escalating into a commotion—someone was arguing with Enid. A moment later the door was flung wide open.

      Her mouth dropped open as her ex-fiancé, carrying a large bunch of stem roses and a bottle of champagne, burst in with Enid close on his heels.

      ‘Excuse me, Mr Chalmers, you can’t go in there.’

      ‘Relax,’ Bryce crooned as he lit up one of his dazzling smiles. ‘I’m sure whoever this is—’ he nodded dismissively towards Damien ‘—will excuse us. Philly and I have important business to discuss.’

      ‘Mr Chalmers, would you please leave. This is not Ms Summers’s office.’

      ‘Don’t worry, Enid.’ Damien took a step back as he lowered himself into his chair, sensing an opportunity to learn more about the secret life of Philly. First pregnant, now this character, whom one could only assume to be the father. Was he the reason she’d knocked back Damien’s advances at the Gold Coast?

      He felt himself bristling at the thought.

      Bryce completely disregarded everyone’s presence but Philly’s, sitting himself down on the desk opposite her. She made an attempt to get up but he pushed her back down, thrusting the bunch of flowers into her lap. ‘For you, sweetheart, and hey, you’re looking better than ever.’ He leaned over and pecked her on her still open lips before he began removing the foil from the top of the champagne bottle.

      Philly stared blankly at the flowers but had finally found her voice. ‘Bryce—what’s going on? What are you doing here?’

      ‘I was going to surprise you when you got home but I thought it would be much more fun to whisk you away from here to a nice romantic restaurant some place. You’ve moved up in the world. Last time I visited you in here you were on a lower floor. Sam—someone-or-other told me where to find you.’

      Damien made a mental note to have a quiet word with Sam about company security while he thought about grinding Bryce’s face into the carpet for stealing that kiss. But then why would she be so shocked about her child’s father turning up—unless they’d broken up after the baby had been conceived? His little brown mouse had more layers than the DeLuca Tower.

      ‘Bryce, why are you here? This doesn’t make sense.’

      The visitor ignored her protest and, despite the early hour, levered out the cork, setting it free with a loud pop, and pouring the wine into two glasses he’d extracted from his pocket. He handed her one and took a swig from the other.

      Then he turned and locked his baby-blue eyes on her, a lock of his blonde hair escaping from under the designer sunglasses perched on his head.

      ‘Then let’s go make sense somewhere private,’ he said. ‘Away from all these cronies.’

      Damien couldn’t keep silent any more—whoever this guy was, there was no way he’d let Philly leave while he was paying her salary.

      ‘She’s not going anywhere with you.’

      Bryce turned, obviously displeased to find the company he’d so readily dismissed hadn’t instantaneously vaporised.

      ‘Excuse me, this is a private conversation.’

      Enid tut-tutted at the door and put her fists on her hips.

      ‘Imagine that, and we all thought it was you interrupting a private conversation.’

      Bryce smiled a false smile that got no further than his bared teeth. ‘I appreciate your loyalty to Philly. It’s very…touching. But she’s safe with me. Aren’t you, Philly?’

      Philly took a long look at Bryce as she put her untouched glass on the desk. Even in the midst of her surprise, when he’d first walked in she had been blown away with how good-looking he was, with his tanned skin, blue eyes and blonde hair. For just a while there she’d felt this huge sense of loss—she’d loved and lost this perfect specimen.

      But then she’d noticed the way he treated people, the way he rode roughshod over anyone who didn’t serve a purpose to him, and the way he’d assumed she would fall into his arms without a thought to ask her what she wanted.

      Why had she put up with him for all that time? She must have been so desperate to have a child it had completely blinkered her view. But the shutters were off now and there was no way he was barging his way back into her life.

      ‘Philly?’ Bryce prompted.

      She looked around Bryce to where Damien was sitting poised, ready to pounce. With his face like thunder, he looked as if he was prepared to tear Bryce limb from limb. Standing behind her at the door, Enid looked more than ready to deputise.

      It was empowering having them both here for moral support. And comforting. Only this was something she’d have to deal with herself. Besides which, if she was going to have to explain her pregnancy to Bryce it would be better not to have Damien around to complicate matters.

      She exhaled on a long sigh before glancing up to Damien and Enid. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s going on, but if you’d give me just a moment to sort this out? I appreciate your support but we need a little privacy. If you don’t mind, we’ll continue this in my office. It won’t take long.’

      Enid and Damien looked at each other, as if neither was prepared to be the first to leave.

      ‘You’re sure?’ Damien asked.

      ‘I’m sure.’

      ‘Then you stay here. I’ll be right outside if you need.’

      She smiled. ‘Thanks.’ Their eyes met again and locked. It’ll be okay, they seemed to be saying. Warmth spiralled through her, touching her in places only he seemed to be able to reach. It was a good feeling.

      ‘Right!’ Bryce announced, clapping his hands and jolting her out of her mood. ‘You’ve both been a wonderful audience but the show’s over. Allow me to show you the door.’

      Damien stood, visibly bristling even as Enid made for a quick exit. Bryce stopped dead in his tracks. ‘Come on,’ he urged, sounding less cocky, ‘you heard the lady. We’d appreciate a little privacy.’

      From her chair Philly could tell Damien was itching to do something—she didn’t know what, but he looked as tight as a drum. His dark eyes took on the character of petrified wood—the hardness of stone, polished and glinting.

      The contrast between the men hit her then. There was Bryce, elegant as always in his superfine wool suit and with his charming

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