Page 19 of 2 Books in One Bundle

But how was he to achieve that?

Simply holing up in his study here wouldn’t work. She’d still be in the vicinity, moving around in his space, filling the air with her scent and tempting him to throw caution to the wind. How long would he last before the defences that had served him so well over the years crumbled beneath the weight of his need for her?

He’d have to go into the office instead. There he’d get the breathing space he needed. Workwise, that would be the right move too. Despite his assurances earlier that he could work from home and delegate if necessary, the thought of spending too long away from his desk made him jumpy. The shipping side of the company was launching a new cruise line and the plans were at a crucial stage. Decisions would be made far more efficiently if he were there.

He could still ensure Mia’s comfort and monitor her well-being, of course. She would still be fed and watered and want for nothing. He’d simply outsource her care instead of seeing to it himself. It mattered not one jot who kept an eye on her as long as she was safe, and he’d put every resource he had—with the exception of himself—at her disposal.

He wouldn’t be gone for long. He’d soon get everything under control and be back on track. In fact, if shewassuffering from the attraction in the way he was, she might even welcome his absence and some breathing space of her own.

It was another excellent plan, he thought with satisfaction as he stared out at the twinkling Christmas lights of Knightsbridge and drained his glass. And this time it would work.

Contrary to his assumption, Mia did not welcome Zander’s absence.

Once again, she’d gone to sleep in his vicinity and woken up late to an empty apartment but, unlike before, he’d left a note.

She discovered it on the island in the kitchen, into which she’d ventured after recovering from the lingering nausea, showering and dressing. Apparently, an urgent meeting had called him into the office, but the concierge would help with anything she needed, the restaurant downstairs would send lunch up at one and his driver would take her wherever she wanted to go. Zander would be in touch later, but in the meantime she was to put her feet up and relax.

Mia frowned down at the note, not a little put out. Last night as she’d been getting ready for bed, not only had she vowed to ignore the clearly one-sided attraction but also she’d decided to be less sensitive and more pragmatic about the situation. To adopthisapproach, in fact. To that end, she’d been looking forward to quizzing him about himself over breakfast. She wanted to know more about his family, his work, and explore his fascinating opinions about love.

That, now, would not be happening. However, she was not going to let it overly bother her. Presumably, being CEO of a giant global company meant that delegating took time and she imagined that not all meetings could be done virtually. No doubt he’d had to leave early and hadn’t wanted to wake her. At some point today he’d be back, surely, and as it was less than twenty-four hours since the scare that had landed her here, she probably ought to take this opportunity to consider their baby and do as he suggested.

So, after a cup of green tea and some crackers, magicked up by Tony, the obliging concierge at the front desk, Mia spent an hour analysing her spreadsheets. She then called Hattie to check that everything was on track for the dinner party this evening and answered some emails.

At eleven, she wrapped up warm and took a walk. At one, she had lunch—a melt-in-the-mouth quiche followed by a creamy lemon mousse that exploded her taste buds and had her taking notes. Following a brief nap, she headed downstairs to check out the well-stocked library and fourteen-seat cinema, then googled how to play pool and put what she’d learned into practice.

By six in the evening, however, having run out of things to do and heard not a word from Zander, despite the declaration that he’d be in touch, Mia frowned into the empty fridge as she contemplated dinner, and wondered if she should message him.

Would an enquiry into his plans come across as needy? A bit on the clingy side? She’d faced that accusation a number of times before and had pledged to be more circumspect when it came to relationships, but no, this was an entirely different situation. They were equals and she had every right to want to know what the father of her child was up to, especially when she was here at his insistence. Besides, communication was going to be key in the future and she might as well start now, so she closed the fridge door and fished out her phone to text him.

Hope all’s going well. Will you be back in time for supper? I could cook.

His reply came a few minutes later.

Back late. Don’t wait up.

At the bald words—and the message they conveyed—Mia’s eyebrows shot up. Well. That was an unexpected development. Hadn’t he made a very firm point about not trusting her to rest and therefore needing to keep watch over her at all times?

But perhaps something unavoidable had come up, something that trumped his lack of trust, like the sinking of a ship or a scandal at the bank. Or maybe delegating and arranging to work from home was proving easier said than done. Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to stress about it. She could ask him in the morning, along with all the other questions she had piling up.

In the meantime, she thought as she exited the kitchen and headed for the stairs, since she was exhausted, despite having achieved very little and not at all hungry after lunch, she was going to take his advice and get an early night.

Unfortunately for Mia’s plans to find out what lay behind Zander’s absence that day and get to know him better over breakfast, the next forty-eight hours followed a similar pattern to the first twenty-four.

During that time, she saw neither hide nor hair of him. Did he even return to the apartment at night? There was no evidence to suggest he did. They communicated entirely by text, she with increasing irritation and confusion, he with a frustrating lack of urgency and brevity. How long did it take to sort out working from home? she wondered with growing resentment as she tried to keep herself occupied without losing her mind. What was keeping him so busy? Was itjustwork, as he claimed?

She took endless walks. She made the mistake of visiting the department store down the road, which, two weeks before Christmas, had been a bunfight. She read two books and watched five films. By the afternoon of day three, however, having organised into alphabetical order the bottles on the shelves behind the bar—a new low—she’d had enough.

The situation had become wholly unacceptable, she thought, tight-jawed, as she read yet another obfuscating message and her patience, stretched to its absolute limit, finally snapped.

What on earth was going on?

She frequently didn’t hear from him for hours. She hadn’t seen him in days. What had happened to his alleged concern for the welfare of her and their baby? That had been the whole point of moving her in, and he’d been so resolute, yet almost immediately it seemed to have fallen off his radar. Had she been wrong about his paternal instincts? Mistaken about his ability to step up should something happen to her? And what about seeing to her every need?

How were they supposed to get to know each other and discuss the future if he wasn’t around? What the hell had been the point of installing her here in the first place if he’d been intending to abandon her all along? What was hethinking?

None of these questions she could answer—and she point blank refused to entertain thoughts about where he was at night, what he got up to and who he did it with because that only tied her in ridiculously jealous knots—but as her frustration and resentment mounted, of one thing she was certain: she was done with sitting here twiddling her thumbs until he finally deigned to grace her with his presence. She was climbing the walls. She couldn’t stand being so unproductive. She needed to keep busy, to constantly move forward, not stagnate like this, passive and idle.

Why were the sacrifices all hers? Why should he get to work and she not? At this very minute Hattie and the team were arranging canapés on trays in readiness for a private view at a cutting-edge art gallery. The client was new and influential. Her reputation was on the line, and she’d been twitching all day about not being there in person.

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