But nor had he expected her to throw it in his face.
Actually, she had done more than throw it in his face—she had practically rolled up her sleeves and demanded they finish it outside.
His mouth twisted. Her challenge should have been easy to ignore. After all, it had been an empty threat. Like a featherweight stepping into the ring with a heavyweight, she might get in a couple of lucky punches but nothing that would cause serious harm.
And yet he couldn’t help feeling a fleeting and unwilling twitch of admiration for her defiance.
He frowned as from across the room the intercom buzzed.
This apartment was one of several properties he owned in London. He liked its riverside location and the panoramic views across the city. Plus, the twenty-four-hour concierge team were unfailingly polite, efficient and engaged without being intrusive.
The intercom buzzed again.
Or they had been up until this moment.
Mouth hardening, he strode over to it, damping down his irritation. ‘Yes?’
He heard the concierge give a nervous cough.
‘I’m sorry to bother you, Mr Law, but there’s someone here to see you—’
‘Impossible,’ he interrupted curtly. ‘I made no such arrangement.’
‘She says she’s a family member.’
His hand hovered over the button. She? His mother and half-sisters were nearly six thousand miles away. So who, then?
He felt his jaw knot, the goading words he had spoken to Dora replaying inside his head.
‘Let’s keep this simple. And civil. We are almost family, after all.’
He nearly smiled. But instead he said quietly, ‘Send Ms Thorn up.’
He stared across the apartment to the discreet lift doors. Twenty-four hours ago Dora had been itching to start a fight with him. But it would have taken no time and even less imagination for her to decide that it was a fight she didn’t want.
Logically, her next option would be to flee—so from the moment she had stormed out of Capel Muir Fellowes his people had been keeping track of her. Or rather Archie.
But, truthfully, it had never crossed his mind that she would be doing the same to him, and he felt another unwilling flicker of admiration.
Like many people in his position, he took considerable care to leave the smallest possible digital footprint, even preferring to use shell companies to purchase properties overseas. It would have taken a considerable amount of effort to track him down.
He heard the lift arrive.
So she must want to see him badly.
A pulse of anticipation beat beneath his skin. He’d always known that yesterday’s meeting with Dora would not be the last. He had expected her to respond. That she had done so this quickly, and imaginatively, was just a bonus.
He watched th
e lift doors open.
Dora was sandwiched between two of his security guards. She looked ludicrously small, and her blonde hair was tied back in some kind of complicated braid that made her look younger than before.
Or maybe that was her lack of make-up. Not that she needed any.
But it was her clothing that made a muscle bunch in his jaw.
Gone was the figure-hugging pencil skirt and silky blouse and in their place were slouchy jeans, clompy black boots and a suede tasselled bag that looked as if it weighed more than she did.