Page 74 of Guarded King

“Have you let go of your past?”

Swallowing past my dry throat, I look back at him, unsure how to answer. “Th-there’s nothing in my past holding me back.”

“We’ve all got something,” he says. “Though sometimes it’s easier not to admit it.”

Nonplussed, I press my lips together, assessing him.

Without waiting for a response, he turns to his phone, which is, per usual, buzzing with incoming emails and messages. No wonder he never rests.

Maybe he needs someone who’ll make him.

The thought flashes through my head and I latch on to it. Has he ever had that? A person who doesn’t mind reminding him that it’s okay to take a break. A woman who can show him that there’s more to life than the King Group.

Did his ex-wife do that for him? A little spark of unwanted and completely irrational jealousy ignites inside me at the thought of her. At the knowledge that there’s a woman out there who’s seen beneath his armor. Who’s been the recipient of his tender smiles and his passionate touches. Regardless of how their marriage turned out, it must have held love or something resembling it at some stage.

And like a fool, I’m jealous of the woman who invoked that in him.

God, I’m a mess. Being jealous of my boss’s ex-wife is ridiculous. A woman I’ve never even met, though I’ve kept an eye out for her at the expo. According to Sophie, she’s dating Roger Haverscombe, and since I had the misfortune of spyinghim on the other side of the room at one of the demonstrations yesterday, I know he’s here. Thankfully, I don’t think he saw me.

Would he bring her with him?

Are she and Roman on good terms or bad?

With a mental slap, I chastise myself for going down the ex-wife rabbit hole. I should be concentrating on my job, not Roman’s past relationship. Determined to do just that, I go through my own inbox, filtering out the emails that need to be forwarded to him.

Once we arrive at the convention hall, our first stop is a showcase on how smart technology is redefining green urban spaces. From there, we attend a panel on building green cities, featuring industry leaders from various sectors, including sustainable transport, renewable energy, and green architecture. The discussion touches on how urban developers can collaborate with tech companies to transform current cities into more eco-friendly environments.

During the panel, I spot Roger, who’s sitting in the audience with a beautiful brunette next to him. Stiffening, I side-eye Roman to see if he’s noticed them, finding him intent on the discussion happening on stage.

Discreetly, I study the woman. Katherine’s profile is as stunning as the photos online suggest, and her long glossy brown hair cascades down her back in a thick waterfall. She’s wearing a short skirt that emphasizes legs that go on for days. Stupidly, my heart sinks a little. She looks like she could be a Victoria’s Secret model.

I’m still trying to surreptitiously study her when she turns, her gaze immediately landing on me. Despite the urge to whip my head in the other direction, I force myself to stay still, unwilling to make it obvious that I’ve been watching her.

Instead, I offer her a casual smile. As if we just happened to catch each other’s eye. Without returning it, she surveys Roman, then me again, and I swear her eyes narrow a fraction.

With a flip of her hair over her shoulder, she turns toward Roger and places her hand on his leg.

Suppressing a wince, I turn back to the front of the room. So, not a warm-and-fuzzy person, then.

Refusing to be caught looking at her again, I focus on taking notes as the panel discusses issues and answers questions.

Once it’s done, I gather my purse and tablet and make my way down the row of chairs to the aisle. I stumble a little, and instantly, Roman’s hand is on my hip, steadying me.

The heat of his palm, even through the material of my skirt, steals the air from my lungs. How would it feel if he were to grip me like that with both hands? If his big body was behind me, keeping me still, preparing to pull me back onto his?—

I clamp down on that train of thought. I shouldn’t be picturing those kinds of things in the middle of a crowded hall. I shouldn’t be picturing them at all. But at this stage, I’ve all but given up trying to control my reaction to him.

Once I’m steady, he lets go, and without looking back, I keep moving, thankful for the few seconds I’m given to compose myself before facing him again.

As we exit the room, I subtly check the crowd around us for Roger and Katherine. When I don’t find them, I relax, realizing only then just how tense the thought of bumping into them has made me.

Roman leans down, his head angled toward me, and speaks into my ear. “Let’s get to the luncheon.”

I nod, doing my best not to shiver at the warm wash of his breath over my skin.

He leads me to a large banquet room dotted with round tables that are slowly being claimed and heads straight to thefront. I spot my name card, but before I can sit, he pulls my chair out for me.

“Such a gentleman,” I say with a teasing smile.

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