Page 47 of Emergency Engagement

Sammy was dabbing her eyes when her mobile pinged and she stared down at Rafael’s name on her phone. She’d barely been back in the country and the last person she’d expected to hear from was him. He’d rejected her. She’d said what she had to say, but there hadn’t even been a second when he’d considered what she’d told him, not a second when he’d given any thought to the possibility that he might have feelings for her. He’d beenappalled.Love her?How could she have been foolish enough to think that he might have fallen for her like she’d fallen for him?

The speed of his rejection had said it all.

She’d packed, knowing that he was sitting outside on that veranda with the remains of her specially prepared meal scattered on the table, cruelly lit with the romantic glow of the candles she had taken time to buy and put there. They hadn’t even got round to the chocolate fondant she had made.

When had he disappeared off to the hotel? She didn’t know, because she’d made sure to stick to her room and pack, only emerging when she knew for certain that he would no longer be in the house. She hadn’t cried. The tears had lodged inside her, refusing to come out. They hadn’t been able to get past the pain—the pain of her rejected love and the agony of the emptiness that lay ahead, which she would have to fill somehow.

On the flight over, she’d wondered whether she should go to Yorkshire and see her mum immediately so that she could get the whole sorry situation off her chest. She wasn’t quite sure what she intended to say but she knew that she would just say whatever it took to make sure her mother didn’t get into too much of a state. That would mean plastering a phony, confident smile on her face and launching into some spiel about finding out in the nick of time that she and Rafael weren’t suited.

Since she hadn’t been able to face the phony smile just yet, she had decided to go to London and stay there for a few days. She knew people there. One of the girls who had come through culinary college with her had her own small flat in Notting Hill, so Sammy had arranged to stay with her for a few days.

‘I’ll cook,’ she’d promised, ‘and clean up behind me. I know that’s the bit you always hated!’

So, when she’d got Rafael’s text, she’d felt the breath leave her in a whoosh. She’d just come back from a very speedysupermarket shop and had been about to sit down, relax and deal with her jet lag.

He wanted to see her. It would be about business, of course, and she’d been tempted to tell him just to email whatever he wanted to say, but then she’d thought that a series of emails between them would only prolong the misery and keep him alive in her head. Whereas, if she went to see him, spent fifteen minutes hearing whatever he had to say, it would be like lancing a boil—over and done with, only the healing left to endure.

And besides,a little voice had piped up,you know you want to see him...want to have one last look at that beautiful face and put it in your memory bank so that you can pull it out to gaze at at a later date.

She had squashed that little voice. She wasn’t going to succumb to thinking about him twenty-four-seven even, though she knew that that was exactly what she would probably end up doing. She told herself that, when she saw him, she would make sure to remember the way he had rejected her. She decided that seeing him would give her the sense of closure that she hadn’t had when she’d left him out there on the veranda with the warm, tropical breeze and the harmonious sounds of insects, frogs and toads reminding her that there really was no such thing as paradise.

He’d suggested going to Yorkshire but the last thing she wanted was for him to meet her anywhere private. The thought of him in her house had been way too much. That would have left her way too vulnerable. They could meet in his office, surrounded by phones, desks, computers and people working hard making money, and that would be fine.

Still, as she got dressed the following day with a sickening sensation ofdéjà vuin the pit of her stomach, she almost wished that she’d gone for the response for him to email anything hehad to say because, whatever he said, there was nothing that couldn’t be communicated in writing. Was there?

Rafael could feel the tension building as the time approached to meet her.

Part of him wondered whether she might bail at the last minute, in which case he wasn’t entirely sure what he would do. He could hardly pursue her if she really didn’t want to lay eyes on him.

Then he wasted some time wondering whether he should meet her in the foyer of the building. Finally, he decided against that because, if the only reason she had agreed to meet him at all was that she thought it was to do with work, then being shown up by one of the receptionists would confirm that. He had tactfully dispatched his PA.

Rafael was a man who was impervious to nerves. Something about having spent his life beating the odds had strengthened his inner core, made him utterly resilient when it came to facing down challenges and making the best of whatever life decided to throw at him.

But right now, drumming his fingers on his desk and resisting the urge to prowl through his office to relieve his tension, he was nervous. He felt vulnerable and hesitant, and for some reason that had made him think of his dad, had made him re-evaluate the black and white vision he had had of him as a man who had lacked the strength to give up on the unattainable.

His father had simply been human, and being human was the very thing Rafael had spent his life trying hard not to be. To be human was to be weak, and being weak was something he had made sure he would never be.

But he was here and he felthumanfor the first time. He hadn’t stopped beating himself up for his stubborn blindness in recognising what had been staring him in the face. And yet, how was he to have known that, just when he wasn’t expecting it, someone would break down all the barriers he had constructed around himself? His wealth, power and status had made him invincible and, in his head, his iron will had cemented his own formidable belief that the only person who could ever control the direction of his life would be himself. How wrong he’d been.

He stilled when the call came through that Sammy had arrived. He waited, seated behind his desk, counting the seconds until she entered his office. It had only been a matter of hours and yet, as he saw her framed in the door that opened into his PA’s office beyond his, Rafael felt as though he was seeing her for the first time.

It felt like being punched in the gut. She was as slight as he remembered, as graceful as a gazelle, and her face was tight and cautious. Her body language screamed discomfort and he rose to his feet and walked towards her.

‘Sammy... I wasn’t sure whether you would come.’

‘You didn’t leave me much choice. I’m here because you said you had something to say to me face to face.’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, go ahead and say it.’

‘Come through to my office, please. I can’t...say what I want to say with you standing with your back to the door.’

She’d dressed in a prim navy skirt, some workmanlike shoes and a white jumper with a thick jacket swamping her. It made him think of her in those sexy summer outfits she had worn, braless and so sexy that she’d always managed to blow his self-control straight out of the water.

He raked his fingers through his hair, shifting uncomfortably, and looked down at his shoes, feeling a bit like a school kidsummoned to the principal’s office to discuss being caught smoking behind the bike shed. Although, in fairness, he’d faced many a hauling into the principal’s office and had never felt like this in any of them.

‘I don’t intend to stay long, Rafael. Say what you have to say. If I need to sign anything, then I’ll do that and leave.’

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