Page 3 of The Tycoon's Diamond Demand

Her art, the fact that she’d sold her work to him, that this was a successful exhibition...it all faded away. Jens, and his presence, took up all her mental space.

Maja watched, fascinated, as he tensed. Someone who didn’t know him well wouldn’t notice his fractionally tighter shoulders, or the slight lift of his chin. His eyes narrowed, and he reminded her of a super-predator who’d caught the scent of his prey on the wind. Maja held her breath as his eyes scanned the gallery, his dark eyes skimming the faces in the crowd. He passed over her. As she’d told Halston earlier, nobody noticed the servers...

But why did he ask for a private viewing earlier? Did he connect M J Slater with her? Was that why he’d bought her work? No, that didn’t make any sense...if he knew the artist was the woman who’d jilted him via a blasé video, he’d be more likely to burn her work than buy it.

Jens had no idea why she acted the way she did, that all of her actions—mostof her actions—had been done out of a desperate need to protect him from her father, to keep Jens off Håkon’s radar. Maja had never wanted Jens to be collateral damage in the war between her and her father. Yet here he was, and the floor under her feet rocked and rolled.

Then, suddenly, Jens’s head whipped back at speed, his eyes slammed into hers and Maja took a step back, the heat of his gaze pinning her feet to the floor. Of course, he’d find her; Jens’s sixth sense for danger, for out-of-the-ordinary situations, had served him well when he’d pitted himself against the stormy Norwegian and Barents seas. He listened to his instincts, and as his eyes raked over her, seared through her, she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, Jens knew exactly who she was.

Fight or flight...she’d never faced this decision before. Flight won out and Maja fled.

She’d known it wouldn’t be long before he found her in the small, tucked-away reception area on the second floor of the gallery. Maja turned away from the window when she heard the soft click of the door opening. The air in the room rushed out and she felt light-headed and spacy.

Maja released a low curse, unable to make sense of her now upside-down world. She’d never expected to see him again, he was part of her past. She’d spent more than a decade trying to get over him, to forget. Yet here he stood, six feet three inches of brutal intelligence, physical brawn and restrained rage. How could his effect on her still be so strong, so potent?

‘Jens...’ She swallowed, internally wincing at her high-pitched voice. ‘What are you doing here? How did you find me?’

‘Admittedly, you’re a hard woman to track down, Maja,’ Jens said, closing the door behind him. He crossed his arms, pushed one big shoulder into the wall next to the door and crossed his left foot over his right ankle. He reminded her of a big cat about to pounce. And she was his prey.

‘I didn’tknowyou were looking for me,’ Maja replied, ignoring her spluttering heart. There was no air in this room, she was finding it difficult to breathe. Maja felt her pulse inch upward and dots appear before her eyes.

No, she wasn’t going to let emotion, and the past, the impact of Jens, override her common sense. She needed to pull herself together and start thinking instead of reacting. She doubted she would be able to control this situation, but she could stop acting as if she were a flapping fish he’d hooked. ‘What do you want?’

His expression turned sardonic. ‘Maybe just to say hello to the woman I once thought would become my wife.’

So many questions bubbled on her tongue. Did he know she was M J Slater? Why had he bought herDecay and Decorationseries? Would he ask her why she was working as a server at this event?

His expression moved from saturnine to thoughtful. He walked across the room and picked up from the coffee table a brochure advertising her exhibition. He flicked his thumb against the edge as he looked down at the brochure. Maja, a knot in her stomach, walked over to him. She inhaled a hit of his cologne, something woody and citrusy. He smelled gorgeous but a part of her wished he still smelled of soap and the sea.

‘After I heard of Håkon’s death, I instructed my lawyer to track you down,’ he said. ‘He had no luck finding you.’

Frankly, luck was running short all around. ‘I keep a low profile,’ Maja hedged. ‘And you just happened to be at this exhibition?’

‘I’ve been collecting art for a few years now. Curators often reach out to me.’ He smiled, but Maja shivered. Something was off and she still felt the urge to bolt out of the door.

‘I was offered, but declined, an invitation to a private viewing of M J Slater’s work earlier this week. But, annoyed by the lack of progress in finding you, and in need of a distraction, I thought I’d take a look. I came in earlier, about an hour before the gallery opened tonight.’

Right. It didn’t sound as though he’d connected her with the artist, thank God. Maybe this really was a coincidence, maybe he’d followed her out of the gallery simply to reconnect. But that wasn’t Jens’s style. He didn’t do simple, and the tension in his body suggested this was more than just aHey, you’re back!chat. What did he want? What could he be up to? Why did he still make her heart bang against her chest? And why was panic, the mental equivalent of a herd of spooked wild horses, galloping through her?

Jens flipped over the brochure, and Maja looked down at the printed picture of one of her few framed images. She didn’t like frames. She wasn’t crazy about her photographs being harnessed by a border. Jens jabbed his finger at the image on the brochure and it took her some time to realise he was pointing to her tiny, but flamboyant, signature in pencil on the white matte board within the frame.

‘You sign your m’s with a distinctive flourish.’

Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a slim leather wallet and flipped it open. Maja watched, rooted to the spot, as he pulled out a faded Post-It note and gently opened the small square. He held the corner between his thumb and forefinger so that she could see the writing.

Jens, I love you. I can’t wait to marry you. M

And there was her distinctive ‘M’, the same one she used when she signed her work. One was a carbon copy of the other, and a three-year-old could tell they were written by the same hand.

No!

No!

She’d wanted to think otherwise but heknew. He’d linked her with M J Slater. Jens was now the only person other than Halston who knew that connection between the ex-heiress and the rising-star photographer. Maja bit down on her lip, her eyes flying from the note to the brochure. Dammit. It was such a little slip-up, but one with huge consequences.

‘I never expected you to keep that note, you’re not the sentimental type.’ If he’d tossed it, they wouldn’t be here.

Jens’s cold, furious eyes slammed into hers and she shivered at the intensity of his gaze. ‘I keep it as a reminder of what a naïve fool I was.’

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