Page 7 of The Tycoon's Diamond Demand

This charming brick mansion, built on three levels, was once owned by her maternal grandparents and the only place she and her mum could truly relax. They’d left Oslo on any pretext to visit Bergen and hermormorandmorfar. She’d ridden her tricycle in the spacious hall, snuggled up to her grandparents on couches in the main living area and the den, and learned to swim in its incredible heated pool.

She remembered amazing views, many bedrooms, the four-car garage, and that her grandmother loved the huge solarium. The housekeeper had lived in the apartment above the garage, and Maja had spent many hours exploring the large garden. Bentzen House had been a refuge until her grandmother and mum had died in a car accident shortly before her tenth birthday. Her heartbroken grandfather had followed a few months later and the executors of the estate, of which she had been the heir, had sold Bentzen House. She still wished they hadn’t.

Maja’s life changed after their deaths, it became bleaker and darker as she slowly realised her uninterested father neither loved nor liked her. It didn’t take her long to discover that Håkon didn’t find her smart enough, pretty enough, charming enough...

In a nutshell, she wasn’t the son he so desperately wanted.

While she’d had a million regrets abouthowshe’d left Jens—dumping him by video had been a cowardly act but one Håkon had forced her into—she didn’t have a single regret about leaving Norway, striking out on her own, and leaving the Hagen legacy behind. She’d walked away from unimaginable family wealth and knew she’d make the same decision again. She was still Maja, but she wasn’t a Hagen, not in any way it counted. She liked not being linked to her famous father and she’d protect her anonymity, her work and her pseudonym with everything she had.

She’d worked so hard to get to this point in her life, all her career success was hers alone, and she wasn’t prepared to jeopardise her independence, artistic and emotional. Besides, she wasn’t done with Bergen, she wanted to reacquaint herself with the city she’d known as a child. She wanted to spend time at the harbour, photographing the cheerful and charming houses or wandering down the narrow streets, ducking in and out of tiny, interesting independent shops.

She wanted to see more of Norway too. She wanted to get out onto the water, and was considering a cruise to Svolvær, to experience the Arctic beauty in all its rugged splendour. Maybe when she was done with Jens, she’d do that. It would be an excellent way to recharge her depleted emotional batteries. She couldn’t do that if the world knew who she was. And to stop that from happening, she needed to meet with her ex.

Maja leaned back in her seat and rubbed her damp hands on her thighs, trying to gather her courage.

She’d pulled on a lightweight thigh-length cotton jersey, and wore skinny dark jeans and high-top trainers. She’d arranged her hair into a messy bun, anchored with a few pins she’d jammed into her hair. She didn’t wear any lipstick, nor did she check whether she had mascara flecks under her eyes or on her cheeks. She’d made no effort for Jens Nilsen. She would not give him the satisfaction of thinking she wanted to impress him. She didn’t want him to think she cared about his opinion. She didn’t. Not one little bit.

Their years apart had changed him, of that Maja had no doubt. The fine lines fanning from the corners of his eyes were deeper and his eyes were now more black than blue, hard and uncompromising. It was obvious his mouth had forgotten how to smile. Yesterday she’d sensed his every muscle was on constant high alert, ready to spring into action, to jump into a fight.

Jens was tense from the top of his expertly cut hair to his size thirteen feet. He was a champagne cork about to be released, a pressure valve about to blow. But, worst of all, he’d morphed into a man just like her father. Someone she’d always feared and frequently loathed. Hard-headed and ruthless, unyielding and relentless.

Even back then, there was a part of her that had been a little relieved to be given an excuse to walk away from Jens. His intensity and self-confidence had intimidated her. Despite being so young, she’d known she would’ve been low on his list of priorities, and that she’d resent his single-minded focus on his career. It wasn’t that she hadn’t believed he loved her—he had, as much as he could. Twelve years ago, he’d been so like her father in too many ways that counted, and the realisation had terrified her.

And a part of her had known marrying him would be jumping from the frying pan into the fire.

But she did regret how she’d ended their relationship. She’d hurt him, embarrassed him, broken her promises to him and done it all in a callous manner. And Jens wasn’t someone who’d let that slide. He wanted payback. But at what cost?

She had to meet with him and find out what he wanted. And whether she could give it to him. If she didn’t, M J Slater would be outed, and the world would know she was the privileged and supposedly pampered daughter of one of the world’s wealthiest men.

The career she’d worked so hard to build would be, to all intents and purposes, over.

She sighed. The over-large wooden front door opened, and Jens leaned against the doorframe, his eyes connecting with hers through the windscreen. He wore navy chinos, and an untucked grey button-down, sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms and a very expensive, vintage Rolex. He looked fabulous, and she briefly wished she’d taken a little more care with her appearance.

Do try to remember that you are not trying to impress Jens Nilsen!

She watched, warily, as he walked over to her and yanked open her door. He gestured for her to get out but Maja, who could be stubborn, gripped her steering wheel and glared at him.

‘You’re wasting my time, Maja,’ he curtly told her.

And who appointed him king of the world? ‘I haven’t decided whether I am coming inside or not.’

His blue gaze was uncompromising. ‘You’re coming inside, Maja.’

She lifted her chin. ‘What makes you so sure of that?’ she demanded.

‘One, you don’t want to run the risk of me telling the world who you are. Two, you’re curious as to how far I’ll go to get what I want. Three, you want to see what I’ve done to your grandparents’ house, whether I’ve changed anything.’

Seriously? Could he be more arrogant if he tried? And damn him for being right. Before she could find her words, and fire them off, he stepped back and pointed to the front door. ‘I’ll be waiting for you inside.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Don’t be long, I don’t have time to waste. I still have work to do tonight.’

Maja stared at his tall frame as he walked away from her. How dared he issue commands and expect her to curtsy and then obey? She didn’t need to be here...she didn’t want to be here. And she was done letting Jens Nilsen call the shots.

She’d start the car, go back to her hotel and take a hot shower. After a good night’s sleep—or, more realistically, a night tossing and turning—she’d reassess the situation in the morning and work out a way to talk to, and deal with, her ex-lover.

Or...

Or should she go inside and get this over with? The sooner she dealt with him, the sooner she could move on. Maja bent down, picked up her bag and left the car, slamming the door shut. She stomped up to the open front door and walked into the familiar hall. It was empty of her grandmother’s ornaments and her grandfather’s collection of walking sticks, but the wide staircase was the same, as was the gleaming parquet flooring. Huge, modern, expensive paintings hung on its high walls.

Jens sat on the third step of the staircase, his forearms resting on his knees. ‘How long has it been since you were last here?’ he asked from his unconventional seat.

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