Greer knew a moment’s craven impulse to flee but squashed it, closing the door behind her.
He gestured to the pair of leather lounges facing each other between his desk and the window. ‘Please, take a seat.’ His tone was affable but she hadn’t missed his swift glance at her empty hands. She hadn’t bought her laptop or even a folder, just her shoulder bag.
Stiffly she crossed the room, but instead of taking a seat, stopped at the end of the lounge. ‘Actually, I’d rather stand.’
Conall raised his eyebrows, a frown gathering above those fathomless eyes.
Even that makes your breath quicken. For all the wrong reasons.
Now she was here this didn’t seem like such a good idea.
‘You moved house.’
It wasn’t what she’d intended to say but it was a whole lot easier than the apology she’d been practising.
For a second he didn’t say anything, just scrutinised her as if trying to define what went on in her head.
Good luck with that. It’s such a mess in there.
Half the time she wasn’t sure whether her couple of vague memories from the last months were real or just figments of her imagination. As for her emotions…
He shrugged. ‘I find this suits me better.’
Greer stifled surprise. He was a wealthy, single bachelor. He was in demand socially and though she had no idea how many invites he accepted, she’d seen enough photos of him attending galas, nightclubs and swanky restaurants, each time with a gorgeous companion, to know he enjoyed an active social life. A penthouse apartment in the heart of the city seemed more in keeping with a busy bachelor than this stunning, sprawling home.
None. Of. Your. Business.
‘How did you find me?’
She blinked. He hadn’t told her since the accident about his new address. Heat flushed her cheeks. Maybe he hadn’t wanted her to follow him here. Maybe she’d done something that she’d forgotten about that made him want to keep her away from his personal space.
But that didn’t gel with him spending so much private time with her recently. The day yachting. The opera. And afterwards, the kiss.
She slicked her lips and looked past him to the private jetty where a familiar white yacht was moored. The sight made her yearn for that carefree day when things had been easy between them.
‘I asked one of the staff on the floor below our office. They know my memory only goes back so far. It turns out they’d hand delivered some documents to you here for signature.’
Conall nodded, but the information didn’t seem to please him.
‘I’m sorry to intrude.’ The words spilled in a breathy rush. ‘I won’t take much of your time.’
He folded his arms, muscles bunching. ‘If you’re here to offer your resignation—’
‘My resignation!’ Her blood froze. She’d hoped he’d see past the last few weeks as an aberration and remember instead how well they’d worked together before. ‘Is that what you want?’ She held on tight to the strap of her shoulder bag as if that might stop her hand shaking.
‘No, I damned well don’t,’ he growled. ‘I know you’re upset about the other night but it’s not worth throwing away a partnership like ours.’
Greer gulped, trying to reconcile his words with the steely ring of anger in his tone. She couldn’t ever remember seeing such banked fury in his eyes.
‘You don’t want me to leave?’
His frown became a scowl as he unfolded his arms and moved towards her. ‘Of course not. You didn’t do anything wrong.’
She was already shaking her head, pulling the long strap of her bag in front of her with restless hands. ‘Don’t! Don’t bekind, Conall.’ She already felt guilty enough. Guilty and mired in a situation that felt like it had no way out. But she had to try.
Instantly his laser-sharp stare eased. ‘Why are you here, Greer?’
‘To apologise.’ She dragged in a quick breath and plunged on. ‘You’ve been so supportive and I turned on you as if you’d done something wrong. I’m sorry.’ Her mouth rucked up in a bitter smile. ‘I came on to you and thenturnedon you, making accusations. You shouldn’t have to deal with that, or walk on eggshells in the office because of me. I came to say sorry and see if we could go back to how we were before. If we could pretend that night hadn’t happened.’
