‘—have an appointment. I know.’ The woman gave her an amused look. ‘Scott came in just as I was telling you he was all booked up. I must say he described you to a “T”.’
Anya frowned. ‘You mean he’s expecting me?’
‘Well, if he wasn’t he will be now. Melissa just buzzed him to get rid of his client.’
Anya clutched her cream handbag. ‘I don’t want to put anyone out. I thought you might just manage to squeeze me in when he had a few spare minutes…’
It was too late for cold feet. She was already being ushered into a large office to see Scott closing an adjoining door, spinning around on the plush green carpet to face her.
He looked wonderful, she thought fretfully. While she had been suffering from a thousand cuts of guilt he had been burnishing his skin and glossing his hair and generally making himself look like a million dollars. And there was no sign of joyous welcome in his eyes, just a watchful reserve.
‘Crime obviously pays,’ she said drily, looking around the office.
‘The defending of it certainly does. It’s a growth industry. Did you come here to assess my net worth?’ he drawled.
She bit her lip and gripped her bag harder, reminding herself that she had it on very good authority that she hit him in the heart. Unless he had been making an ironic joke.
‘No. I’m sorry; I don’t know why I said that.’
‘You’re nervous. Sit down.’ He indicated the chair in front of the desk, but instead of going around to the leather swivel chair when she had seated herself, he sat on the edge of his desk, legs relaxed, extended and casually crossed at the ankles, arms folded across his chest. He didn’t look as if he had a nerve in his big, gorgeous body, damn him!
‘Why aren’t you in school?’
‘I called in sick.’
He dropped his hands to the desk, gripping the edge on either side of his hips. ‘You’re ill?’ he asked, searching her delicate face.
Sick with love. She looked away from his penetrating gaze and shook her head. ‘I just felt like a day off.’
‘And you’ve come to spend it in my office? Or have you come for my professional advice? If you’re going to take up housebreaking as a full-time job you’d better put me on a retainer. You don’t seem to have much talent for the job.’
Her heart quickened at the wry amusement in his voice. If he could joke about it…
‘Russell Fuller came to see me a couple of hours ago.’
‘Did he, indeed?’ A lazy eyebrow rose, but she noticed with another skip of her pulse that his fingers were tightening under the overhang of the desk. He wasn’t any less nervous than she; he was simply better at disguising it.
‘Yes, he did. And he told me certain things. Things that you said to him. About me and you,’ she said defiantly. ‘Were they true?’
‘What do you think?’
She looked at him in silence, torn by hope and fear. Suddenly she was tired of being brave and feisty, and her eyes began to sting.
‘I think if you have to go through a third party to tell me what you feel, that doesn’t bode very well for our future relationship,’ she whispered, a tear spilling down her cheek.
He instantly lunged forward. ‘Oh, God, no—don’t cry—’ He grabbed her out of the chair, and drew her into his strength, rubbing up and down her back with his big hands. ‘Please—don’t cry—Of course they’re true, Anya. I was wilfully blind not to see it before. Of course I love you. That’s why all this hit me so hard. When I was talking to Fuller it just suddenly all fell into focus, and then I spent the rest of the weekend agonising over it, figuring out why I’d been so anxious to lash out, to push you away, and blame you for things that weren’t your fault. You said you were afraid of losing me—imagine how terrified I felt. This is all new territory for me. I’ve never, in my whole adult life, had anyone to belong to, or belong with—I’ve always felt like a loner. And then Petra came along, and you burst into my life—you, who’d been hovering around the edges of my mind for months, making me feel i
tchy and angry and aware. I built you up in my mind as someone I couldn’t want, but then I wanted you anyway. My heart was already setting me up for the fall. Even when I seduced you I knew that you weren’t the kind of woman to sleep with a man without feeling some deep emotional tie, but I couldn’t help myself.’
His arms tightened possessively around her, as if trying to absorb her into his very being. ‘And you turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. The one who made me feel that I wanted to belong—I wanted to be a husband, a father, and I wanted to be those things with you. Deep down I knew you were nothing like Lorna or Kate—it was just a form of panic, the shock realisation that you could hurt me far more than they ever had—it was the old protective reflexes kicking in. But I can’t live in that kind of vacuum any more. I need you to love me, and I promise I’ll learn to be more open about the way I feel—you can teach me. So please, stop crying now. I didn’t mean to make you cry,’ he said, pressing desperate kisses all over her damp face.
‘Well, what did you expect me to do?’ she sobbed into his chest.
‘I don’t know—yell at me, slug me one, laugh…’ He groaned. ‘I thought you might find my way of telling you I loved you quirky—romantic—’
Her head jerked back. ‘What!’
He smeared a tear away from her cheek with his thumb. ‘You know—like sending a troubadour, to serenade you…’ he said ruefully.