Chapter Five
She was famished, too, which left little fight in her. Siobhan brought him into the building, vibrating with awareness of him and nearly wilting with hunger when the food aromas filled the elevator.
Inside her flat, he glanced around as he removed his coat and accepted the hanger she offered before she removed her own coat.
It was an older building. The rooms were small, but bright.
Both the living room and bedroom had a thin balcony that looked onto an alley and an even more ornate and visually pleasing building across the way.
The wall between the bedroom and living room had been partially removed and fitted with a pair of frosted glass doors that she left open to create a more spacious feel.
She was a tidy person. The bed was made and there was only a discarded scarf on it that she had decided not to wear at the last minute this morning. It still felt…intimate, heightening her jumpiness at having him in her personal space.
He doesn’t want you, she reminded herself. She didn’t know why he was here, but it wasn’t that.
She took the food into the kitchen. It was a narrow galley that ended with a door into the minuscule bathroom, but the setup was efficient and it had a good-size pantry along with newish appliances.
Conscious of the impression he was gaining, she clarified, “It came furnished.”
The sofa and chair were upholstered in a floral pattern that was too busy for her taste. She preferred contemporary styles and solid colors.
“I was lucky to find a sublet that I could get into right away. I love the location.”
She never hung pictures of family so she would warm the space with paintings she’d purchased while living in Australia. They were on the floor, propped against the wall with framed, free-expression artwork made by her nieces and nephew.
She washed her hands, then set the table with the fragrant fideuà, which was a paella made with vermicelli noodles. It was piping hot and ready to serve in enameled cast-iron dishes with lids. Warm flatbread accompanied it along with tapenade, a salad and custard-filled bunuelos for dessert.
“Corkscrew?” he asked, showing her a bottle of white wine.
She handed it over with one glass. “None for me. If I have anything stronger than a glass of water, I’ll be flat on the floor.”
He set aside the bottle without opening it. “How hard has Oladele been working you?”
“It’s not that.” She refused to let him think she was anything but delighted by her job. “I haven’t taken a proper break since before exams. Oladele said the office will close for Christmas on the nineteenth, though.” That was only a week and a half away. “I’ll catch up on my sleep then.”
Oh, heck. She still had to finish her shopping for the children. Whether she joined her sister or not, she needed gifts for everyone.
“That’s not the face of someone anticipating a break from work,” he said, making her realize she’d revealed how daunted she was. And that he was watching her as closely as he had that night in San Francisco.
Disturbed, she explained, “I just remembered the Christmas shopping I have to finish.”
“I wasn’t sure if you celebrate. You don’t have a tree.” He flickered his gaze around her undecorated lounge.
“I haven’t had time to get one.” Truthfully, she hadn’t made time. “My sister invited me to join them so there doesn’t seem a point if I won’t be here.” That was her excuse for eschewing the wreaths and garlands she had once looked forward to hanging.
Last weekend, she had stayed with her nieces and nephew while Cinnia and Henri had flown to Paris for a function, hoping her weekend visit would excuse her from the holiday altogether, but the pressure had only increased.
You haven’t had Christmas with us in five years, Cinnia had scolded. Everyone wants you here. You know that.
She did. And she wanted to see everyone.
It wasn’t the people she was avoiding. It was this time of year.
She used to love all the joyful decor and festive traditions around Christmas, but these days they regressed her back to that heart-stopping moment when she’d realized how badly she’d messed up.
Pushing her dark thoughts aside, she waved an invitation for Joaquin to join her at the table. They both sat and tucked in without ceremony.
“You?” she asked, trying to make this extraordinary situation feel normal when all she could think about was the way they’d flirted over drinks and fallen on each other with a different type of hunger.
This was the meal he had promised to order for them before he had dumped her.
Why did she let that continue to sting? He’d made it clear they were ships passing even before they’d slept together, then told her afterward that he wasn’t someone to plan to share things with.
She had slept with him knowing they weren’t likely to have a future and she’d been fine with it. It was only in the afterglow, when she’d been anticipating going back to him for the rest of the night, that she had indulged a few expectations, wondering if maybe there could be more between them.
She lifted her gaze and found him watching her with a pull of dismay in his brows.
He was even more aloof and unreadable than he’d been in San Francisco.
Her stomach curdled anew with the fear she’d done something wrong. Offended or disappointed or repelled him in some way.
“I was only asking what you do at this time of year. If that’s a state secret you don’t care to share…” She was trying to be ironic, but the joke fell flat. She looked hopelessly at her food, appetite evaporating.
He let the silence hang for an extra second before stabbing his dish as though it needed killing before eating.
“My brother used to invite me to join him and Zurina. I always refused because our father was also invited. Last year, I gave in for the children’s sake.
It was their first Christmas without Fernando and it turned into hell because my father was there.
We despise each other, as you may have gathered.
” He closed his lip over a mouthful, pensive as he chewed and swallowed.
She had gotten that memo. It had slapped her in the face this morning in the form of Lorenzo’s rage.
“This year, Zurina and her parents are spending a few weeks in the Canary Islands,” he continued. “I put them on my plane this afternoon. She asked me to join them, but I’ll work. Prepping for today pushed my own projects to the back burner. I need to catch up.”
“I’m still trying to understand what happened today,” she admitted wryly.
“Same,” he said with pithy sarcasm, flickering his gaze over her face and shoulders in a way that made her feel off balance.
She dropped her eyes, hating herself for liking the feel of his gaze. For quietly willing something more visceral out of him.
“I called Killian about your security clearance. He said he knows you through clients. He declined to tell me who they are, but said you were at liberty to reveal that information if you chose to.”
“I don’t.” Her heart clenched in a pulse of discomfort.
Out in the street, there was a faint jangle of sleigh bells. It was the only noise for a few seconds, amplifying his silence.
“My partnership with Killian is reciprocal,” Joaquin said.
“I supply some of his hardware. He ensures my proprietary designs are well protected. He wouldn’t set me up for industrial espionage when it could compromise his own interests, but I still find your presence in my father’s company too convenient. ”
“For who?” she snorted.
“See? It’s problematic for both of us.”
“You can’t fire me just because I accidentally had sex with you!
I didn’t know you were buying the company I was coming to work at.
” Dismissing her would be worse than mean-spirited.
It was a betrayal of how vulnerable and uninhibited she’d been that night.
He had already tossed her away like trash once for it.
“I can’t afford mistakes right now.”
“I didn’t know I was one.” She quit the table abruptly.
Angrily. “I told you I hadn’t slept with anyone in ages and this is why.
” She pointed at the floor between them.
“I didn’t want a man derailing me from my aspirations again.
” She had sensed that he had the power to pull her off course, but had found him enthralling enough to risk it.
“I never dreamed you were the sort to deliberately sabotage my career. Out of misguided spite.”
“I’ll help you find something else—”
“Oh, don’t do me any favors,” she snapped. “I know people if I want to get hired through nepotism. I don’t.”
She paced across her small lounge, but when she reached the door to the balcony, she was compelled to yank the drapes to block out the colored lights on the neighbor’s balcony. They were another throbbing reminder of that other time she had been profoundly stupid where a man was concerned.
Maybe if Joaquin understood that she really was okay with keeping a firm distance between them, he would let her stay? A pang of humiliation wrenched behind her navel. She refused to beg leniency from a man who had already made it clear he didn’t want her.
She would fight for her job, though. He didn’t get to take her dignity and her nascent career.
“I won’t tell you who Killian’s clients are, but I’ll tell you why I went to Australia to start over,” she decided, turning to face him.
“I was living with some of them in London. The man I was seeing used me to get information on them.” She still felt sick when she thought of it.
Her eyes grew hot with remorse. With a ferocious desire to reverse time.
To go back and not be so caught up in romantic ideals. She’d been so naive. So oblivious.
“Killian didn’t do a background check?” He turned in his chair to face her more fully.