Page 55 of Signed, Sealed, Married

Now, watching him across the table, the idea intensified. He was so determinedlynotlooking at her.

He turned and their eyes met, and it was like it had been last night. The world fell away and they might have been completely alone. Heat ignited in her pelvis, making her wriggle in her seat. Any pretence that she was listening to the speaker at the other end of the table died.

For long moments their gazes locked. Did she imagine heat streaking his cheekbones? A hungry glitter in his eyes?

Her pulse quickened and her nipples budded against her silk shirt.

‘We need to call a break.’ Adam looked directly at her so she thought he spoke to her. Then he turned, addressing the others around the table. ‘The meeting will resume in fifteen minutes.’

There were surprised murmurs but no objections. Who would dare defy Adam Wilde? People pushed back their chairs and stretched stiff muscles.

Adam leaned towards one of his staff members, saying something Gisèle couldn’t catch. The other man nodded, frowning, then took out his phone and strode to the door.

What had she missed? Something had changed as she sat daydreaming about Adam and what they’d shared. Mentally she shook herself. She’d fought hard for the House of Fontaine, she couldn’t afford to be distracted now.

Gisèle rose but, before she could walk around the table, Adam exited the room.

Her way was blocked by her own staff, wanting to check details and propose a compromise approach. By the time she made it out of the room, she couldn’t see Adam. Just two of his staff in conversation, their backs to her.

‘It’s so out of character,’ one said. ‘Heneverdeals with the minutiae. In five years I’ve never seen him personally manage a takeover at this level. That’s what he pays us for.’

The other nodded. ‘When he said he was going to attend a discussion on performance appraisal I couldn’t believe it. It’s not surprising that...’

The woman’s words petered out as Gisèle approached.

What wasn’t surprising? And why was the Fontaine takeover so different to any of Adam’s previous ones?

‘Mr Wilde?’ she asked.

The Australian pointed down the corridor. ‘In the small conference room, Ms Fontaine. I believe he’s making a call.’

If that was meant to stop her following, it didn’t. She rapped on the door, opening it without waiting for a response.

Adam was on his phone. He watched her enter, his expression giving nothing away. He might have been watching a stranger.

She rubbed her upper arms, suddenly cold. He didn’t look like the man who’d taken her to the stars last night. Who’d kissed her briefly yet passionately this morning, then held her hand all the way to their meeting.

He looked like the autocratic stranger she’d met weeks ago.

Adam ended the call and put his phone away. Gisèle didn’t wait for him to speak but strode into his personal space.

‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing’s wrong.’

Her jangling nerves told a different story. She knew it was sex they’d shared last night, not a promise of lasting devotion. Yet she’d expected at least a shadow of last night’s intimacy now they were alone.

He lifted his broad shoulders. ‘Okay, not wrong. But something’s come up. I need to go to New York today. Now.’

‘What about our negotiations?’

Forget the negotiations! What about us?

But a lifetime of guarding her tongue stopped the words.

Was there anus? Or had last night been a one-off?

Gisèle backed up a step, arms wrapping around her middle as pain bloomed deep within.

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