‘I can live with that stipulation,’ he murmured. ‘You have a bargain. I’ll get my team onto the paperwork immediately.’
Gisèle thrust down dismay. Despite the open-air setting she felt claustrophobic. But she couldn’t dwell on that. She’d won the concessions she needed. That had to be enough.
‘I look forward to reading it.’ She’d be searching for loopholes.
‘In the meantime, I’ll take you to lunch.’ His smile had a hungry quality that made her shiver. ‘I feel like celebrating our engagement.’
CHAPTER FOUR
CELEBRATINGWITHHIMwas the last thing Gisèle wanted.
Adam knew it from the way she stilled and the wide pupils darkening her eyes. That hint of fragility snagged his conscience, until he reminded himself she could walk away from the deal if it really bothered her. She wouldn’t be a pauper even if the family company folded.
Apart from those tiny signs, her sangfroid was impeccable.
A lesser woman would have found an excuse to be alone. Gisèle did no such thing. She inclined her head, her expression one of calm confidence. ‘As you wish.’
As if she bestowed a favour. As if it were she, not he, who’d direct what happened next.
He recalled the articles calling her Ice Queen, partly because she kept her sex life so private the media could find no evidence of a long-term lover. But more often, Adam suspected, because of her self-possession.
No matter what fate or bossy tycoons threw at her, she remained unperturbed.
Except Adam sensed the emotions she reined in. A dispassionate, uncaring woman wouldn’t have pleaded for her workforce or her brother.
Not so much icy, he decided, as queenly.
He could imagine Gisèle in an earlier time with a sparkling diadem on her blonde head, her slender neck rising proudly from a jewel-studded gown of rich velvet. Courtiers would bow as she entered her throne room.
Adam’s mouth firmed as he blanked the image. He was the last man in the world to indulge in bizarre fantasies. He’d spent his life facing the gritty realities of this world.
Yet the image of his bride-to-be as a medieval queen lingered.
He blamed Angela and the thick historical paperback she’d pressed on him before he left Sydney.‘Take time out,’she’d said.‘Unwind.’To please the little sister who fretted about his work-life balance, he’d spent several hours on the flight reading it.
Anger stirred. At himself for letting his mind drift into useless imaginings when he had significant issues to finalise. And at Gisèle for her ability to distract him.
‘Excellent.’ He stood. ‘Let’s go, shall we?’
The trip to the harbour was completed in silence in the back of a limo since her high heels weren’t meant for walking any distance. Adam used the time to shoot off messages to his minions. By the time they walked onto the marina his brief bad humour had lifted.
Because he was close to wrapping this up.
He assured himself it had nothing to do with the blaze of admiration in his companion’s eyes as she took in the large, classic yacht before them. He didn’t need anyone’s approval. In fact, he’d built his success in the face of closed ranks from the establishment who’d seen him as an outsider, never one of them.
‘You enjoy sailing?’ He paused on the boardwalk, heat skirling low in his abdomen as he watched her mouth soften.
What other woman had ever distracted him so easily?
He shoved the disturbing thought aside. His desire for Gisèle, and the sexual relationship he anticipated with her, were welcome bonuses. But he’d never allow anyone to deflect him from his purpose. His single-minded focus remained one of the reasons for his phenomenal success.
‘I do enjoy it. Julien and I used to go out when we were young. Some of our friends have yachts. How about you?’
Adam shook his head. ‘I didn’t set foot on one until I’d made my first few million. I didn’t have the time.’
Misty blue eyes locked on his. ‘You were too busy wheeling and dealing to take time off?’
Her tone was light but there was an undercurrent he couldn’t identify. Disapproval?