But he was no longer listening. His jaw was tight as he answered the phone. “Rupert. What the hell do you want?”
Rising to his feet, he kept the phone to his ear as he stalked back and forth across the study, barking angry words into the phone—words I didn’t understand, like EBITDA, proxy fight, flip-over and poison pill. Whatever it meant, it made Edward so angry that he utterly forgot me sitting half-naked in the chair, staring up at him, wearing his tie. He just paced back and forth in front of the fire. Caesar lifted his head and watched his master walk to and fro, as bewildered and alarmed as I was.
“And I’m telling you,” Edward bit out, “if you don’t pull this together the shareholders will never forgive...no, it was not my fault. I set it on target. It was fine in September.” He paused, then strode five steps before turning. His pace was almost a stomp as he said acidly, “Oh, I’m sorry, was it inconvenient to the company that I had to take a few months off when I nearly died? Even half-dead, I’m twice the man you...” He halted, grinding his teeth. “No, you listen to me....” A curse came from his lips that made me flinch. “If the deal is falling apart, you’re the one to blame, and the board of directors will see—” He stopped. His shoulders looked so tight that I was afraid of what he might be doing to the muscles of his shoulders and spine. He ground his teeth. “I know what you’re doing, you bastard, and it won’t work. St. Cyr Global belongs to me....”
I couldn’t listen anymore. Sliding miserably off the chair, I grabbed my clothes that had been flung so eagerly to the floor. Shivering, though I was near the roaring fire, I pulled his tie off my throat. Edward’s eye caught me, now standing in front of the enormous fireplace that was taller than me, and his expression briefly lightened as his eyes approvingly traced the scarlet lace bra and panties that had been a Christmas gift. From me to him. His forehead furrowed into a frown as, without answering his smile, I turned away and silently pulled on my long cotton sweater and black knit leggings.
“I’ll be there tomorrow,” he snapped, and clicked off the phone. Coming toward me, he said, “What are you doing?”
“That should be obvious,” I said.
“Take your clothes back off,” he said huskily, pulling me into his arms. “We’re in the middle of a game. There’s no reason for you to quit. You’re winning.”
Winning. The word made me shudder. Because when he was on the phone, talking to that man—his cousin?— Edward’s voice had sounded different. Harsher. Like someone who cared about winning. At any cost.
I’d come to see another side of Edward over the past few months. Even Jason Black, the man I’d thought I’d loved, now seemed like a pale shadow of memory compared to the devilish, sexy, arrogant man who’d become the center of my life. Edward knew the best of me—and the worst. For weeks now, I’d tried not to think about how soon I’d be leaving this magical place and returning to California, to face the real world. But now...
I pulled away from his embrace, avoiding his gaze. “You’re going back to London.”
“That multibillion deal I told you about is falling apart,” he said grimly. “I’m going first thing in the morning.”
“On New Year’s Day?”
“My cousin,” he spat out the word, “is trying to sabotage it. I’ve been gone too long. Once the deal’s back on track, I’ll get the stockholders together and see about eliminating him....”
“Eliminating?”
He snorted a laugh. “From the board of directors. What did you think I meant?”
I licked my lips. “Well...”
“You really do think the worst of me,” he said, sounding amused rather than offended. “But Rupert has a wife and young children he barely sees. I’d like to free him from all the pesky duties of COO, so he could devote more time to his family.”
“You could do that yourself,” I pointed out.
“Ah, but I don’t have a family,” he said lightly. Leaning forward, he kissed my nose. “I couldn’t be responsible for a houseplant.”
“That’s not true.”
“Sadly, it is.”
“What about Caesar?”
The dog lifted his head at hearing his name. Edward looked down at him affectionately. “This lazybones? You know he’s technically Mrs. MacWhirter’s dog, not mine. And she’ll be back from Scotland tomorrow. There’s no help for it.” Edward stared down at me grimly. “I need to go back.”