I didn’t want to look in the rear-view mirror. I didn’t want to meet his fascinating blue eyes, not again. ‘I know you’ve got every right to withdraw your money,’ I went on doggedly, ‘but I’m asking you personally at least to put it on hold. If I get funding for my project, it has the potential to do really well and then I could pay you back with a ton of interest.’
Again, silence.
Dammit. I’d bloody well screwed this up, hadn’t I? Sex had ruined it and then mentioning my stupid project probably hadn’t helped.
There was pressure at the back of my throat, a heaviness in my chest. Shit, that was pathetic. Dad would be appalled. He’d tell me to pull myself together, that it was my mess and crying about it wasn’t going to help anyone. I just had to suck it up and deal with it. That was the Little way.
The airport was coming up and soon I’d have to stop and let Mr Evans out. He’d walk away from me and that would be my opportunity gone.
‘I can show you pictures,’ I said uselessly. ‘My design is pretty unique, so if you want to see an example of—’
‘No.’ The word was flat, unequivocal.
‘Mr Evans—’
‘I said no.’ The was no mistaking the note of absolute authority in his cold, gritty voice.
The discussion was over.
Hot, angry words filled my mouth, but I kept it closed, my jaw aching with the strain.
Don’t make a fuss.
‘Hey, no worries.’ I forced my mouth into a smile. ‘Can’t blame a girl for trying though, eh?’
He said nothing, the silence in the car becoming thick and suffocating. Full of his anger and something else I didn’t understand.
I pulled the limo up in the drop-off area outside the airport and only then, gathering my courage, did I glance into the mirror.
But he was putting his laptop away and not looking at me.
I stared at him, unable to help myself. His face was guarded, the white seams of his scars stark against his olive skin. A muscle flickered in his hard, strong jaw. And I couldn’t help noticing that he had the longest, darkest lashes I’d ever seen on a man.
My fingers itched to touch him, a throb between my thighs reminding me of what he’d felt like inside me, surging into me, taking me hard and fast, the wild thrill of having a man like that under my hands...
Abruptly he looked and the vivid colour of his eyes caught me, held me.
‘Goodbye, Miss Little,’ he said expressionlessly.
And then he was gone.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ash
I STARED OUT from the empty floor of the tower building my company was in the process of constructing in Southwark, the Thames looking black and sluggish in the early afternoon light. Wind blew through the big empty space where the windows were going to go, while the site manager went through a list of excuses as to why the project had been delayed by several months.
I was only half listening. Despite the delays, the construction was going according to plan and I didn’t care about the man’s excuses. What I was concerned about was the upcoming trip to Dubai that I’d promised Delaney, and how I still hadn’t sorted out the issue of the ‘serious girlfriend.’
The solution, of course, was to bring someone with me and have her act the part. I had no shortage of women who’d be only too happy to pretend to be my ‘serious girlfriend’, but my real problem was that I couldn’t act to save my life.
I’d never pretended to be anything but what I was, a former street fighter turned property developer, and I seriously doubted
my abilities to pretend to be ‘serious’ about a woman, no matter how lovely she was.
And I didn’t see why I had to bother with this nonsense just to get those islands. But Delaney wasn’t budging, which meant that if I wanted them, I had no other option. My only consolation was that he’d no doubt be doing the same thing to Dumont.
‘Excuse me, Mr Evans?’