Why was hestilltalking? She had to think. She reached out, placed her hand on his arm, and pulled out the commanding tone she usually reserved for the rambunctious boys she’d nannied for before Hind. “For a moment, Mr. Tesfay, pleasestop talking.”
He stopped, lifting those perfectly groomed brows to their limit, then looked cross at the fact that he’d instinctively obeyed.
“I have to think,” she said apologetically—but not
really—and drew back. In the moment after speaking she’d become suddenly very aware of the muscles flexing beneath the fine soft wool of his dinner jacket.
He looked slightly less put out. “Has she ever done this before?”
“Only in the mall, and I’m not worried about her there.”
Oh, why would Hind try this, and here?
“Does she have any friends in London?” Before she could answer, Desmond Tesfay continued speaking with that butter-rich baritone that was making her insides soften, despite herself. She wanted to scream. “And Hind is—What is she, seventeen?”
“Not till August,” Val gritted out.
“Ah, a Leo. Come on,” Desmond added, when that observance didn’t elicit a smile. “She’s got her mobile, it’s on, she’ll call you when she’s ready. It’s London. She’s not a baby, and she knows who to call if she gets into trouble.”
“I pity you if you can’t see what a disaster this is,” Val spat out.
“You’re right,” he drawled. “I mean, it might be bad for you, Nanny McPhee, but—”
Nanny McPhee?Oh, he was going to get it. Val drew herself up to her full height, feeling her shapewear stretch as she did so.
“Just so you know, you’re never going to land this deal. You’re too shortsighted and ignorant to close it.”
Thatgot his attention. A spark of what could be anger darkened his eyes to near-black. Finally, a real emotion had broken through all the bland, ice-cool charm. The change sent a thrill through her. She forced it down, and resisted the urge to take a step back.
“Shortsighted and ignorant?” he echoed softly, and took a step forward. She fancied she could feel the heat radiating from his body. This close, she could certainly smell him, the layers unfolding with each second—cloves, cinnamon, a hint of orange. There was also something heavier, like brandy, or a touch of fine-honed leather. He tilted his head and surveyed her face. She felt heat rising inside her, and her body began to vibrate with the intensity of his presence, overcoming the panic she’d felt at Hind’s disappearance.
But she had bigger things to worry about this evening, including a job she couldn’t afford to lose. But none of that changed the fact that this man was the sexiest person she’d spoken to in a very, very long time.
All amusement had left his voice, as well as his face. The practiced charmer was gone, replaced by someone much less amused, and—if it were possible—much more attractive.
“I realize that you’re likely terrified for your position,” he said in a voice so cold she felt it running up her spine in an involuntary shiver. “But I fail to see how that affects my business prospects, so if you would be so kind as to enlighten me as to why…?”
Oh, she’d enlighten him, all right. She swallowed hard, summoning every bit of self-control she’d learned in her years in the Gulf.
“First of all,” she said, relieved that her voice came out clipped and measured, “you have no idea how much of an honor it is for Sheikh Rashid to have left you, a single man, with his precious daughter all day. He entrusted you with his favorite—scratch that,only—daughter, and what did you do? You took her out to dinner, and youlosther. Yes, she acted independently, and yes, I am her chaperone, butyou’reher host, andyou’rethe one who wants this deal. Why would he trust you with his business if he cannot trust you with his child?”
She took a shaky breath, while Desmond sat in stony silence.
“We’ll find her.” His voice was full of controlled fury. “Come, Miss Montgomery, collect your things. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER THREE
DESMOND CALLED FORa car after telling himself that it was the business deal andnotthe fact that he’d just gone through one hell of a telling-off by a very sexy librarian-slash-nanny that made him do so.
It was, arguably, not a solution, but at least it would give them a semi-private place to brainstorm, and it made him feel as if he was doing something to find that insufferable teenager. Val hadn’t met his eyes since that moment between them in the restaurant; the spitfire was completely gone, replaced by the slightly distant coolness she’d maintained till dinner.
He wished she would look at him, he was surprised to realize. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had told him off or avoided his gaze. They usually sought it, if anything. But Val Montgomery had barely looked at him all day.
It bothered him more than it should.
He cleared his throat in a bid to displace the thought and focus on the task at hand. Strangely, the absurdity of the situation had eaten entirely through the clouds of gloom that had threatened to engulf him all evening.
“Has she got a location app on her mobile?”