The exquisite charcoal suit draped his body perfectly, emphasizing his height and his strength. His tie was an almost perfect match to his eyes. Although he could just as easily belong on the catwalk or in the boardroom, the air of danger around him said he didn’t spend much time in either.
Pull yourself together, Portia!
She tucked her emotions inside. All of them—the embarrassment, the lingering desire, the growing rage. Pasting on a cool smile, she crossed the room and extended her hand. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Mr.—”
His hand enveloped hers and when their fingers touched, she remembered how they’d felt on her body.Not the time, Portia.His grip was neither too strong nor too weak—he wasn’t trying to intimidate her or ingratiate himself. She’d appreciated that if she weren’t so mad at his deception.
“Aleksander Lind.”
“And you’re here on behalf of the Solveig Consortium. Is that correct, Mr. Lind?”
“Please, call me Aleksander.” His gaze held hers. “Or Aleks, if you prefer.”
Neither. She preferred neither. He’d obviously known who she was last night. Had he slept with her deliberately? Did he intend to use last night against her? Her stomach roiled at the thought.
Portia extracted her fingers as quickly as she could and gestured to the chair in front of her desk. “Please have a seat.”
Grateful for all the years of hiding her emotions behind the Ice Queen’s impenetrable exterior, she shoved her unruly emotions and questions about last night down deep. She would not show weakness in front of this man. Not again.
Spine straight, breath steady, she took her seat and folded her hands together on the desk’s sleek surface. “What can I do for the Solveig Consortium?”
“Portia... ”
“Ms. Tremaine,” she corrected, her voice as icy as her nickname.
Her tone seemed to take him aback, although he recovered quickly. “Of course, Ms. Tremaine. The Solveig Consortium has sent me here to discuss reparations.”
She raised a brow. “Reparations?”
Aleksander leaned forward in his chair. His gaze as focused on her as it had been last night when they’d flirted. This time she wouldn’t be seduced by it.
“Yes, reparations. As I’m sure you are aware, the Solveig family recently learned that they were kept—intentionally—from their granddaughter.”
Yes, you could say Portia was aware of the fact. “You’re referring to Dizzie.” Dizzie hadn’t known her true identity until earlier this year.
“Your sister,” he countered.
Those words were still a punch. The fact that she had a sister both thrilled and disappointed her. She’d always wanted a sibling, but the one she’d gotten had ruined Portia’s life.
“If you’d like my sister,” she almost choked on the word, “to meet her grandparents, you’ll need to speak with her.”
Jealousy was a tangled knot in Portia’s stomach. Of course, Dizzie had grandparents who wanted to meet her. She had everything.
Killian.
The newsies’ adoration.
A life without the back-breaking expectations of their father.
Everything was coming up roses for Dizzie.
“Her assistant should be able to make that appointment for you.” She swiped her hand over her desk, activating the computer screen. “If that’s all?”
Aleks laughed, a rich deep laugh that sent shivers through her last night. But not now. She was immune now.
“I’ll arrange visits later.” He waved his hand as if he were dismissing the issue. “From what I understand, your sister doesn’t have any financial power within the company.”
“That’s correct.” Portia frowned. How had he learned that? It wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t common knowledge either. Dizzie’s Tremaine heritage had just been revealed. There was no way Portia—or any sane person—would give an unknown entity that kind of power.
