She'd seen too much—his innermost fears, his vulnerabilities—and he needed to erect some kind of barrier between them before he lost his mind and blurted the entire sorry tale of his life.
Since that night, he'd deliberately set a manic work schedule. Forty-eight hours of back-to-back meetings, outlining new proposals, and drafting a new company mission statement for when they went global.
Definitelywhen. He wouldn't considerif.
Despite the city's power brokers still stalling, now that he'd calmed down after his initial fury over their continued shunning of his proposals—and the fact he'd dragged Ruby into his mess by association—he realised his acceptance wouldn't happen overnight.
His dad had fleeced these people, had ruined reputations and families. He couldn't fault them for being wary. He'd be the same, especially when it came to investing money. He didn't give a toss what they thought of him personally, but as they continued to eschew his well-formulated, lucrative business strategies, it rankled.
So he did what he did best. Ramped up the pressure. Continued to set up meetings. Refused to back down.
He'd been busy trying to barge his way through the giant corporate door in Melbourne and hadn't had time to follow up on Ruby's auction idea.
His excuse, he was sticking to it.
So what was his excuse now, as he reluctantly used the key Ruby had given him to let himself into her showroom?
An honest man would admit to missing her. Missing her exuberance, her bluntness, her optimism.
Even when he'd been on the verge of chucking in this whole fiasco at their wedding reception, she'd come up with something innovative and he'd allowed himself to be distracted.
Simply, his wife intrigued him on so many levels he didn't dare venture beyond their business marriage.
He'd been kidding himself, thinking he could remain immune to her. He should've known how much trouble he’d let himself in for from the moment she dared him that first night, all sass and challenge.
He admired so much about her. Her dedication to her work, to her company, to her family. Her ability to make the best of any situation, to see the best in anyone.
Including a repressed emotion-phobe like him.
He followed the sound of metal clinking coming from her workroom, smiling at the kooky Do Not Disturb sign with a cartoon skull and crossbones forbidding entry.
After ignoring the driving need to see her the last two days, that wouldn’t stop him.
He slipped behind the curtain, content to watch her work. She’d pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail, tendrils framing her face as her tongue poked out between her lips as she concentrated on twisting metal with a pair of delicate pliers.
On the third attempt, she flung the tool down and swore. Maybe not the best time for an impromptu visit.
"Hey."
Her head snapped up and she frowned when she caught sight of him.
Definitely not the welcome he'd anticipated.
"You’ve caught me at a bad time." She gestured at the work bench, before she pinned him with a steely, narrow-eyed glare. "And what happened to the rule about waiting to be invited to use that key?"
And he thought he'd been grouchy the last few days.
"Want me to leave?"
He expected her to nod. He didn't expect her sensual mouth to droop as a glimmer of tears eradicated the battle gleam he'd glimpsed in her eyes a moment ago.
"What's wrong?" He crossed the small space in three strides and hauled her into his arms.
She snuggled into him, the snuffle of soft sobs making him want to pummel whoever or whatever had made her cry. He'd seen her many things—defiant, quirky, challenging—but never defeated.
When she quieted, he awkwardly eased her back, unsure how to handle this.
"The auction's a bust," she muttered, her lower lip quivering. "Apparently the PR people won't take a risk on promoting something so valuable without a reasonable investment of cash to back it."
