Page 13 of The Tycoon's Diamond Demand

He couldn’t blame her for not trusting him at his word. ‘You aren’t in the position to demand anything!’

‘Yet I still try.’

She was fluent in sarcasm. ‘You started this,’ he said, his voice barely more than a deep growl.

She nodded. ‘And you’re ending it, Jensen. Congratulations, you’re a bigger jerk than my father.’ She met his eyes, fierce and furious. ‘Do we have a deal?’

He nodded.

Maja sighed. ‘Brilliant,’ she muttered. ‘Not that you care but...’

He knew what was coming and braced himself to hear the words.

‘I hate you so much right now.’

Jens watched her walk away from him. In a few weeks, she’d walk down that aisle towards him, watched by the cream of Nordic and European society. He’d catch her eye and smile. Then he’d slip away and leave her standing there. Alone, gutted and utterly confused.

Just as she’d left him...

CHAPTER FOUR

AWEEKLATERMaja left the guest suite Jens had allocated her at Bentzen House and walked down the long hallway to the staircase. She lifted the long skirt of her designer strapless red dress off the floor so she didn’t trip. It had been a while since she’d donned ice-pick heels and she watched every step as she made her way down the stairs, gripping the banister tightly. At the bottom of the steps, she shook out her skirt, released a thankful sigh and adjusted the low bodice. First hurdle down, a million to go.

In about twenty minutes, Bentzen House would welcome about a hundred carefully chosen guests for a last-minute summer soirée with a surprise announcement. A string quartet was set up on the terrace, waiters would serve glasses of vintage champagne and exquisite canapés. Huge vases of flowers were everywhere, and the mansion glistened and gleamed. Only the guests, and the host, were missing.

Maja hauled in a deep breath. This would be their first outing as a couple, and tomorrow the news of their engagement would appear online and in any publication that mattered. It had been a long, nerve-racking and exhausting day...week. She’d received the reviews of her show this morning, all of which were positive and, frankly, wonderful. She was, apparently, a ‘prodigious talent’, had a ‘sharp eye for composition’, and was a ‘photographer on the rise’.

Her images were emotional, sensational and deeply moving, and her show was declared a triumph. M J Slater was a roaring success...

But Maja had no one to share her success with. Halston sent her a text message of congratulations, but didn’t bother with a call. Her phone remained silent the rest of the day. It was at times like these when Maja realised how lonely she was, how her secret identity kept her separate from people and friendships. No one was excited for her, she had no one to help her celebrate. She was on her own...successful, but solitary. Triumphant but a little tearful too. Her reviews were wonderful, everything she wanted, yet she didn’t feel as amazing as she’d thought she would.

The moment wasn’t nearly as good as she’d thought it would be.

Maja swallowed, and bit down on the inside of her lip, cursing herself for feeling maudlin. She was a professional success, the rest of her works had sold, and she was financially flush...what else could she want? Not to be married, but there was nothing she could do about that. Not for the next year, at least.

Maja looked at her reflection in the antique mirror above the hall table, barely recognising the sophisticated woman staring back at her. Hair pulled back into a sleek knot, make-up subtle but impeccable. Diamond earrings glinted. She looked like a billionaire’s daughter.

Maja the photographer was gone, and who knew when she would be back? She’d also run out of time, today was her last day of living anonymously, of being free to walk the streets unrecognised, to be herself. Tonight, she’d enter the elite, luxurious world she’d thought she’d left behind. From now on, she would be hounded by the press, have cameras and phones shoved in her face, and have questions shouted at her.

Tomorrow, everything would be different. In the morning she’d meet with an event planner, hired to help organise her unwanted but over-the-top and off-the-cuff wedding. The wedding she wanted no part of.

She frowned and tapped her finger against the elegant table. Why should she get involved in any wedding preparations? Getting married wasn’t what she wanted to do, so why did she have to choose the flowers and the cake and everything else? The wedding was Jens’s circus, he was the ringmaster, and he could organise his own show.

Maybe she could quietly quit the wedding arrangements, doing as little as she could get away with. She had to be careful, a little sneaky, because she didn’t want him to act on his threat.

She’d give as little input as possible without raising Jens’s suspicions. It would be a difficult path to walk but there was no way she was going tohelphim blackmail her. Maja felt her throat close, and her breathing turn shallow... She just needed to stay married for a year. Then she could divorce Jens, slink back into obscurity, and go back to her very normal life. M J Slater wasn’t an artist who did exhibition after exhibition so, after twelve or eighteen months, M J Slater could make a reappearance in carefully selected galleries.

Her career would be okay, and M J Slater, providing Jens kept his word, would remain anonymous. She’d be the shadow behind the artist for ever, basking in her alter-ego’s reflected glory.

She’d been either controlled or ignored by her father for most of her life and was used to taking a back seat. But M J Slater was a creature she’d fashioned and formed. If the world discovered the link between M J Slater and Maja Hagen, she’d lose control and the world’s perception of Maja Hagen would taint and tarnish M J Slater. She couldn’t let that happen. She could stand in the shadows, but she was damned if her art would.

But what would it be like to be able to claim her work? To openly receive the praise and the criticism, to stand next to her work and be proud? How would that feel? Amazing? Scary? Fulfilling? But what was the point of wondering? Publicly claiming her art was an impossible dream...

Maja heard footsteps on the stairs above her head and looked around to see Jens half jogging down the stairs, looking incredible in what she knew was a designer tuxedo. The suit emphasised his wide shoulders and long legs, and he lookedGQ-perfect. He’d brushed his hair off his face, and his stubble was neatly trimmed. He looked sophisticated, debonair and heat-of-the-sun hot.

Jens saw her and he abruptly braked, his eyes widening. He swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck. He started to slowly walk down the staircase, his deep blue eyes not leaving her face.

At the bottom of the stairs, he pushed his cuff back to look at another expensive watch. ‘You’re early,’ he brusquely stated.

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