“If you think you need to explain or make excuses, Nick, trust me—you don’t.”
“I don’t do anything because I think I have to,” he says, somewhat sternly. “That’s not how I operate.”
I can’t say I’m surprised to hear him admit that. “What do you want, Nick?”
“I’d have thought my text made that clear enough. You’ve been on my mind, Ms. Ross. Ever since our very stimulating conversation the other day. In fact, I’ve thought of little else since.”
Just the mention of what we did together via text makes my body quicken in vivid remembrance. I close my eyes and release a pent-up sigh. “You know what? I can’t do this with you. Not right now.” Not ever again, I vow, and I’m almost desperate enough to believe I actually mean it. “I’m busy, Nick. I have somewhere I need to be and—”
“So early? And on a Sunday besides?” He asks it almost conversationally, but I can hear the seriousness in his tone. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t see how that’s any interest of yours.”
“And yet it is,” he says, unfazed. “Everything about you interests me, Avery.”
God help me, but the way he says my name in that deep voice of his is working its dark magic on me all over again. I should be incensed at his arrogance and offended that he evidently thinks I’m idiot enough to buy what I’m certain is nothing more than a line. Instead, I stand mutely on the sidewalk, all of my anger clogged up in my throat.
When my silence stretches out for a long moment, Nick fills the quiet. “It wasn’t my intent not to contact you these past couple of weeks. Unfortunately, things got in the way. It couldn’t be helped.”
I tell myself that whatever game he’s playing, I’m not going to be party to it. Real or not, I don’t need his attempts to soothe my anger. I don’t need his consideration. But there is a sober quality to his voice that makes me keep my claws sheathed. At least, for now.
“The day I texted you, I had to leave for Dubai to finalize an acquisition,” he says. “In fact, I only got back to London less than an hour ago.”
“Oh.” I try not to acknowledge the idea that he’s reaching out to me so soon after his return. For all I know, he’s probably lying. He could be, except I hear a sincerity in his words. There’s a faint heaviness in his slow exhalation and in his voice I hear what sounds like genuine weariness. Possibly something deeper.
“The deal dragged out longer than anticipated. It was complicated . . . unpleasant. They tend to be, when one side has its back against the wall.”
I don’t need to ask if he’s talking about his own back. I’m sure Nick conducts his business the same way he does his pleasure, and I can’t imagine he ever finds himself in a position of weakness, no matter what he does. Or with whom.
I realize I’m stopped in the middle of the sidewalk as I listen to him. Moving to the side of the concrete walkway, I let a group of people step by me and wait for Nick to tell me more. As much as I want to deny that I care what he has to say, I’m curious.
And yes, there’s a part of me that’s concerned for what he went through while he’s been gone. If that makes me an even bigger fool now, so be it.
“What happened in Dubai?”
“I’d been negotiating to purchase a property I’ve had my eye on for several years. A landmark hotel in a prime location. The family who owned it for three generations fell on hard times and was eager to sell. Most of them, that is. We had the signoff from four of the shareholders, but the last one—their grandfather—had been stalling the deal from day one. Since he held controlling interest at fifty-one percent, nothing was going through until we moved the old man to our side.”
Luxury hotels. Jetting off to conduct real estate business deals in London and Dubai. Nick mentions these things as if they’re all par for the course for him on any given day. I’ve never been outside the States, let alone somewhere as far-flung and foreign as the Middle East. As for the kind of money Nick’s talking about, I can’t even begin to imagine. If I’d been trying to guess at the level of his wealth before, now I’m all but certain it has to start with a “b.”
“I take it the deal didn’t go as you hoped.”
“No. Not quite.” I hear the rasp of his hand scrubbing over his jaw. “The old fool had too much pride for his own good. He couldn’t admit to his family’s mismanagement of their fortune. Because of his blinders, the hotel was suffering too. It was headed for bankruptcy long before I set my sights on acquiring it, but he couldn’t be convinced it was time to let go.”