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Did he know? Had Sam recognised her after all and informed Damien of her identity?

‘What the— Ms Summers, is that you?’

‘S-sorry,’ she stammered. ‘The phone slipped.’

She heard something like an exasperated sigh and could imagine the rolling of eyes going on at the other end of the line.

‘Ms Summers, I need you in my office. Now.’

Philly clutched the phone. She wasn’t ready for this. How was she going to explain what had happened? How could she look him in the eye after what they’d done together, the intimacy they’d shared?

She was bound to get the sack over this. She didn’t deserve anything less. How was she going to explain that to her next prospective employer?

‘Are you still there?’

She swallowed. ‘I’ll be right up,’ she croaked.

He slapped the phone down, regarding it critically. What was her problem? He hoped he wasn’t making a big mistake over this.

He turned back to Sam, who was waiting anxiously in the chair opposite, scraping at his fingertips with his thumbnail and looking every inch a man insecure about his position in the world.

Right now Damien knew the feeling. He’d had it ever since the woman dressed as Cleopatra had abandoned him on Saturday night. No one had ever walked out on Damien DeLuca before—that was bad enough. But right now there was a woman out there who’d done even more than that—she’d run out on him and he didn’t even have a clue who she was.

It had only taken him a few seconds to throw his costume back on but by the time he’d done that and raced downstairs there’d been no sign of her anywhere. She’d been swallowed up by the night.

What was her game?

Why had she run away like that? Why had she panicked? She’d had plenty of opportunity to change her mind if she’d so wanted—and she hadn’t wanted—that much was patently clear. On the contrary, she’d been perfectly willing all the way—perfectly accommodating—perfectly inviting.

A perfect fit.

He’d been cheated of exploring that knowledge further. He’d been cheated of seeing how far they could take each other. He’d been cheated of seeing her eyes…

Could it be that she’d recognised him? Was that what had scared her off? Suddenly afraid of being with the company founder and CEO she’d fled? But she hadn’t seemed that obtuse—surely she would have realised when he’d been called away suddenly by Enid, if not before, of his true identity? So why would she suddenly panic later on?

He didn’t like it one bit—the prospect of her knowing his identity when he had no idea who she was or where to start looking for her. He studied the man sitting nervously opposite him.

But Sam might.

When the masks had come off he was sure he’d seen Sam dressed up as a nun. There’d been a nun in the group where he’d first seen the woman standing. He might know. And if Sam didn’t someone else had to. She’d been there for hours waiting for him to return. Someone had to have spoken to her, someone had to know who she was.

‘Sam,’ he said, adding a smile for good measure. ‘Did you have a good time on Saturday night?’

Sam chortled and sat up, eager to please. ‘A great time. Wonderful party. Just wonderful. The staff are very grateful to you—’

Damien held up one hand. ‘Good, that’s fine. But I wonder if you can help me with something.’

‘Anything—name it.’

‘Only there’s someone there I meant to catch up with before the end but I missed her. She was dressed up as Cleopatra. Dark hair, white gown—sound familiar at all?’

‘Too right, she does,’ said Sam enthusiastically before he suddenly frowned. ‘Not sure where she got to, actually—one moment she was there and the next—poof—she was gone.’

Damien felt his pulse kick up. He was on the trail. Hot on the trail. She wouldn’t stay out of his clutches for long. ‘And her name,’ he prompted. ‘Can you tell me her name?’

Sam thought for a moment. ‘She did tell me.’ He looked ceilingwards and scratched his chin while Damien resisted the urge to slam his fist into it. If he thought it would jog his memory the fist would have won hands down.

‘Oh, that’s it. I remember now.’ Sam looked triumphant. Damien tried to remain seated.

‘And?’

‘Marie, from the Sydney office I think she said. Didn’t catch a surname. She was a little bit wary of going in—must have been off-putting, not knowing anybody at one of those things. Awkward when you hardly know a soul. She came in with us but then we lost contact with her.’ He frowned, contemplating his nails. ‘Wonder where she got to?’


Tags: Trish Morey Billionaire Romance