Page 23 of Guarded King

“My father and I do business very differently. You should be aware of that by now.” Roman stands, his eyes locking with mine. “Are you ready, Miss Callahan?”

I follow his lead, tucking my tablet into my bag. He holds out his arm, gesturing for me to go ahead. As I pass him, my shoulder brushes his chest, the contact enough to remind me of the firm muscles beneath his beautifully fitted suit.

Roger Haverscombe rises too, his expression tight with irritation. “I thought we’d reach an agreement today. You don’t strike me as the nervous sort.”

He’s obviously trying to provoke Roman, but my boss barely spares him a second look. “This isn’t the old boys’ club anymore. We’ll accept the partnership only if it benefits the King Group. If you have a problem with that, let me know now and save us all a lot of wasted time.”

Anger flashes in Roger’s eyes, but he quickly forces a smile. “Of course.” He steps forward, offering his hand to shake, and Roman accepts it.

Standing slightly behind them, I’m close enough to catch Roger’s words as he leans in.

“Looks like you’re not so different from your father after all.” He darts a glance my way, then adds with a wink. “Young and sweet. You’ll have to tell me where I can find an assistant like that.”

I stiffen at the insinuation, heat rising in my cheeks. Roman’s posture remains outwardly composed, but the wave of tension that rolls off him is impossible to miss. My breath catches. Roger, apparently oblivious to the danger he’s courting, keeps that slimy grin plastered across his face.

Roman leans in, looming over the shorter man while still gripping his hand. Roger’s smirk falters, a flicker of discomfort crossing his face at what must be a sudden increase in pressure.

“Nothing about me is the same as my father.” Roman’s voice is low and cutting. “If you think otherwise and you’re still happy to do business with me, it only makes me question this partnership.”

My heart pounds as the tension thickens, the two men locked in a silent standoff while Roger’s expression grows increasingly strained.

Dammit. What should I do? An irrational urge hits me—to place my hand on Roman’s back, to slide it over the taut line of his spine and ease the tension flowing through him. But not only would he hate it, it would be highly unprofessional, only lending weight to Roger’s insinuation.

Instead, I take a steadying breath and, keeping my voice calm, say, “Mr. King, if we don’t want to be late for your next meeting, we need to leave now.”

My words break the deadlock. Roger seizes the excuse to look away, and Roman releases his grip, stepping back. He acknowledges me with a brief nod before turning back to Roger. “We’ll be in touch.”

Roger’s tight jaw is the only visible sign of his anger. “Of course. We look forward to hearing from you. And”—his nostrils flare—“I apologize if I’ve offended anyone. Haverscombe Industries is, as always, eager to work with the King Group.” The last bit sounds a little forced.

Roman doesn’t bother to respond. He merely turns and gestures for me to lead the way out.

Our return to the car is silent. It’s only once we’re inside and on our way back to King Plaza that I speak up. “Should I schedule a session with Cole so you can discuss the meeting? I’ll have my notes typed up by this afternoon.”

He shifts his focus from the window to me. “No need. We won’t be proceeding with the deal. Set up a meeting with Wright Construction for next week. I think they’ll be a better fit for this project.”

I blink. “You’re not even going to discuss it with your brother?”

“I’m the CEO, Miss Callahan. I’ve determined that Haverscombe Industries isn’t the right company to partner with. Do you have a problem with that?” Despite his words, there’s no hard edge to his tone.

“Of course not, sir.” But worry eats at me anyway. Surely he won’t torpedo this deal just because of what Roger said. It’s not the first time I’ve heard those kinds of sly comments, particularly after Geoff Jr. took over at Talon. It’s an unfortunate truth, but a lot of the men who rise to the top at these kinds of companies seem to be misogynistic assholes. I don’t doubt that Roman has more integrity, but still, I would never have expected him to react the way he did to Roger’s suggestion. I’m tornbetween relief that he’s not the type of man to laugh it off and concern that my presence may have lost the King Group a good opportunity.

“What’s wrong?” His voice cuts through my thoughts. His head tilts slightly, his cool gaze drifting over my face.

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

One dark brow twitches up. “The way you’re biting your lip says otherwise.”

Realizing my bottom lip is pinched between my teeth, I let it go, running the tip of my tongue over it to ease the sting.

Roman tracks the movement, pale gray eyes darkening to steel. “What’s bothering you, Miss Callahan?” he asks again.

The lower pitch of his voice makes my pulse stumble. God. Why does he have to be so attractive? I shouldn’t be having a physical reaction to the way my boss says my name.

There’s no point in continuing to deny my concern, so I straighten and force myself to hold his stare. “I’m worried that me being at the meeting today caused a problem.”

His expression remains inscrutable. “Why would you think that?”

I let out a breath, wishing he wouldn’t make me spell it out. “What Mr. Haverscombe said at the end seemed to upset you. And I’m worried that’s why you’ve decided against working with his company.”

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