Page 49 of The Couple Behind the Headlines

For a day or two it had worked beautifully, helped by some unexpected news coming out of Asia that sent the markets into a spin and demanded every ounce of his concentration.

As Imogen hadn’t crossed his mind once, he’d assumed he’d got over her and had congratulated himself on a job well done. But then she’d called him. She’d asked if he wanted to meet up, and with the way his pulse had leapt and his resistance had caved in he might as well not have bothered going to all those lengths to forget her.

None of the precautions he’d taken had made a scrap of difference on any of the other occasions she contacted him, either, because the minute he heard her voice, images of her, conversations they’d had and the laughter they’d shared slammed into his head and he couldn’t help wanting to see her again.

He’d told himself that as long as he kept things strictly to sex he’d retain control and he’d be fine. But he wasn’t fine, because keeping things strictly to sex, seeing the permanent bewilderment on her face at his deliberately cold demeanour, was just about killing him.

He hated it, he realised, pushing through the revolving glass door, his head pounding. All of it. He hated the fallibility of the will power and inner strength he’d always taken for granted. He hated the loss of control and the volatility of the stuff churning around inside him and the fact that he couldn’t seem to stay away from her. Most of all he hated the indisputable truth that she was leaving and there wasn’t a bloody thing he could do about it.

‘Ah, Jack …?’

He stopped, halfway across the lobby, and glared at Hannah. ‘Yes?’ he snapped.

Her eyebrows shot up at his tone and a pang of remorse thumped him in the gut. Whatever was going on inside him it wasn’t his receptionist’s fault. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered. ‘What is it?’

‘Imogen’s here.’

Jack froze as the blood roared in his ears. Imogen was here? Why? She’d never visited before. And how the hell was he supposed to cut her out of his life if she took to invading his space like this? Hell. ‘Where is she?’

‘I told her she could wait in your office.’

‘Thanks. Make sure we’re not disturbed.’ He gave Hannah a dazzling smile to make up for the way he’d growled at her and swivelled on his heel.

As he strode down the corridor, his heart thumping with who knew what, Jack realised that for the first time in his life he had absolutely no idea what to do. He was all at sea, most likely on a collision course with disaster, and it was terrifying.

He stopped stock still in the middle of the passageway, his pulse racing. Terrifying? Terrifying? Since when had he ever been terrified—or even remotely scared—of anything? He frowned and with great effort pulled himself together. This was getting ridiculous.

Shoving his hands through his hair, he told himself to calm down, because the notion that he was all at sea was absurd. He was blowing what was really nothing more than a niggling little problem completely out of proportion. All he needed to do was find out what Imogen wanted and then send her on her way. Simple.

Reminding himself that this was his turf and that he was in control, he sprang forwards, continued down the corridor and opened the door to his office. As he shut it behind him and closed the blinds to give them privacy he was aware of Imogen jumping up from the sofa and spinning round.

Deliberately not looking at her, Jack strode across the wide expanse of carpet and perched on the edge of his desk. And only when he was sure he was fully prepared, only when he’d braced himself against the mind-boggling effect she always seemed to have on him, did he do so.

He folded his arms across his chest and regarded her with a steely coolness because the last thing his mind needed right now was boggling. ‘So to what do I owe this honour?’ he drawled.

He watched her throat move as she clearly swallowed back a bunch of nerves and told himself he didn’t care how nervous she was, nor why. Then her eyes, filled with the bewilderment and uncertainty he’d seen a lot over the past few weeks, locked onto his and he set his jaw, because he didn’t care about that, either.

‘You said you were up for meeting,’ she said.

‘I assumed you meant later.’

‘Do you have a moment now?’

The rest of his afternoon was free, but nevertheless Jack glanced at his watch. ‘I can give you ten minutes.’

Imogen frowned and gave a little nod, then she pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin. ‘I’d like to know what’s going on,’ she said coolly.

Jack arched an eyebrow. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, with us.’

‘I’m afraid I’m going to need a bit more to go on than that.’

She tilted her head and stared at him as if trying to work out whether he was being deliberately obtuse or genuinely didn’t know. ‘Haven’t you noticed things are different?’

Jack wasn’t sure he could work it out, either, so he shrugged as if he genuinely didn’t have a clue. ‘Different how?’

‘I don’t know,’ she muttered. ‘Just strange.’ She frowned, bit her lip and then fixed him with a fierce look. ‘I don’t get it. What happened? What changed? Did I do something wrong?’

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