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‘I wonder what put it there.’

Alex’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. This was no innocent conversation. ‘What are you implying?’

‘Me?’ she said with breezy nonchalance. ‘Nothing. But now that you mention it, I was wondering if it could have anything to do with this.’

Jo reached into her bag and dropped a magazine onto the table.

Alex raised an eyebrow and wondered where his sister was heading with this. ‘A gossip magazine? I wouldn’t have thought that was your sort of thing.’

‘It wouldn’t be normally. But when I hear that my brother is splashed all over it I suddenly find it essential reading. Pages six, seven, eight and nine.’ Jo took a sip of coffee and grinned. ‘Just for the record, because I know you don’t need it, I approve.’

As he drew the magazine towards him wariness gripped him, and every one of his muscles tensed.

He flicked to the relevant section and as he began to read he felt the blood chill in his veins.

The headlines insinuating that the City’s most eligible bachelor might finally have been snared by the current darling of the PR world swam before his eyes.

His heart pounding, he scanned the text and by the time he’d reached the final word the last flicker of warmth inside him died. Quotes littered the article. Phoebe was well aware of what he thought of journalists yet she’d obviously spoken to this one.

Alex knew his expression hadn’t altered an inch. He’d perfected it to see him win out during the toughest negotiations. He’d never have thought he’d need to use it to conceal the winding effect of the crushing weight of betrayal.

A cold sweat broke out all over his skin as disillusionment and searing disappointment engulfed him. He pushed his chair back, not caring that all eyes in the cafe swivelled rou

nd at the grating sound of metal against stone.

‘Alex?’ Jo stared up at him in surprise, but he barely noticed.

Numbness started spreading through him, reaching out to wind itself around every cell of his body and gradually he began to feel absolutely nothing. ‘I have to go.’

The last three days had been fabulous, Phoebe thought, taking the stack of papers and a steaming cup of coffee into the garden. A long delicious lazy dream and one she hoped she’d never have to wake up from. She’d signed up three new clients. She’d finalised the arrangements for Jo’s launch. And she’d had more dynamite sex than she’d ever thought possible. She felt as if she were floating, which for a five foot nine generously proportioned woman was an unusual experience.

See, she told herself, aware that she was smiling smugly and not caring one little bit. Combining a fling with her career was possible. All it took was discipline and an ability to compartmentalise.

And the right man.

Alex, in fact.

Phoebe stopped suddenly in the middle of the patio and coffee slopped onto the stone. Uh oh. That didn’t sound good. She put the papers and the mug on a table beside the sun lounger and tried to imagine not seeing Alex ever again. Not kissing him, not being able to stroke that magnificent body, not talking and laughing late into the night. Not having him deep inside her and sending her soaring.

Pain gripped her chest and her brain actually ached.

Oh, God, she had to watch it. She gave herself a quick shake and told herself not to be so stupid. There were bound to be hundreds of ‘right’ men out there. Thousands, even. What was the global population these days? Billions?

Phew. She had nothing to worry about. Alex was simply the right man for this particular stage in her life. That was all.

She’d barely finished the first article when the doorbell rang. With a sigh she dropped the newspaper on the grass and levered herself to her feet. How typical was that? Just when she’d been hoping for a stretch of uninterrupted peace and quiet in which to digest the papers and then gear herself up for meeting Alex later.

She padded through her house to the front door and peered through the spyhole. At the sight of Alex on her doorstep, her heart lurched and then galloped with delight. Had he not been able to wait until tonight?

Phoebe threw the door open and knew she ought to be playing it cool, but the idiotic smile she could feel curving her lips wasn’t cool in the slightest.

However as she took in his dark, tight expression her smile faded and a flicker of alarm sprinted down her spine. Because the man looming on her doorstep with a thunderous look on his face and a fierce glint in his eyes bore little resemblance to the man who’d made love to her so thoroughly this morning.

‘Alex? What’s wrong?’ When she’d left him, he’d been going to have breakfast with Jo. What could possibly have happened in the couple of hours since she’d last seen him?

Alex didn’t answer, just barged his way into the hall and disappeared into the sitting room. Utterly bewildered, Phoebe raced after him and then slammed to a halt when she saw him standing, feet apart, with his back to the window, his massive frame radiating tension and fury.

‘This is what’s wrong,’ he snarled and tossed a magazine on the table.


Tags: Lucy King Billionaire Romance