Page 66 of Worth the Risk

Gemma and her husband, Giles, were pleasant enough. I couldn’t stomach the thought of disappointing one more person and I was sure Aunt Flo would roast me alive about it when she arrived in a few days.

I hadn’t told Leonora yet.

For some reason that triggered a deeper disquiet, which was absurd considering I’d already told her Flo was the most important person in my life. It didn’t escape me that all this frustration, trepidation and damn neediness would disappear if I called it a day and just left the bloody yacht.

Now the deal was signed, Vadim was chomping at the bit to get moving. A week ago that would’ve pleased me no end.

Today, not so much.

My phone buzzed, fracturing my thoughts. The London office number dragged me back into business mode.

I took a breath and answered but not before admitting a crucial fact to myself.

If I had nothing to offer Leonora Branson, then the time was drawing near when I had to root her out from under my skin and send her packing, before my life went to shit. Again.

Leonora was late.

I stopped myself from looking at my watch for the umpteenth time.

Seven thirty for predinner drinks was what I’d clearly stated when I gave the head steward instructions about tonight.

This was what I got for my shitty behaviour this morning. Leonora was probably still pissed off with me. And I couldn’t blame her.

All the same, she’d promised to be here.

‘Something wrong with your Macallan, old boy?’

I looked up at Giles’s query. He and Gemma were watching me with that look I’d come to expect from my family. The look that said they were unsure of my mood. I frowned, shifting my gaze to the amber liquid in my glass.

‘Not at all.’

‘Okay, then, is there a reason you’ve been eyeing the stairs for the last ten minutes? Are we expecting someone else?’ Gemma asked.

I stared at her. Like Damian, we’d been close once upon a time. And like with Bryce, I knew I’d been wrong to cut her off after Damian’s betrayal.

No wonder she was wary. She probably wouldn’t have come if Giles wasn’t obsessed with yachts.

Another wrong to right.

‘Matter of fact, I am. She’s running late.’

Gemma’s eyes widened. ‘She? But I thought...’ She stopped and pressed her lips together.

‘You thought what?’ I asked sharply.

‘Nothing,’ Giles jumped in. ‘So...who is she?’

I curbed my unease. ‘You’ll meet her soon enough.’

If she bloody turns up.

I caught movement from the corner of my eye and turned as Leonora stepped onto the deck.

My breath strangled in my throat.

So far I’d seen her in various forms of dress and undress. The cocktail number in Monaco had been exquisitely eye-catching, the uniform she wore for work evoking an endless stream of filthy fantasies.

Tonight, dressed formally, with diamonds winking at her wrist and throat, she looked phenomenal.

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