‘I see,’ Jensen said at last. She saw the flicker of something that looked like surprise, but he masked it instantly. ‘And if we were to increase our offer?’
The words were delivered in an even, conciliatory tone, but the intent behind them—that this was exactly what she had been holding out for—had anger boiling under her breastbone.
The injustice hit her first, but far worse was the stab of hurt beneath. She’d never once asked Nate for money. So why did he assume she could be bought?
She got up, her body vibrating with tension. ‘I’ve told you I don’t want Graystone’s money.’ She ground the words out, deliberately ignoring the glowering presence in the alcove and the growled expletive. If he thought he could intimidate her, he could forget it.
She directed her gaze at Jensen. ‘My baby and I are not for sale.’
Jensen sent her a level look, his gaze narrowing. ‘So there is still a child? Despite what you told my client a week ago.’
‘Well, I...’ She scrambled for something to say as she heard Graystone’s foot thud against the floor, the tension in the room stretching tight. ‘That’s none of your business.’ She glared at Nate, giving up on her decision to ignore him, and struggling to cling onto the righteous fury. ‘And it’s none of Graystone’s business either,’ she added with a bravado she suddenly didn’t feel.
His brows had lowered in an accusing scowl as his fingers tightened into fists on the arms of the chair.
She turned her gaze back to Jensen, ignoring Nate’s barely leashed show of temper. He could have all the hissy fits he wanted. She’d lied for the right reasons, precisely because she didn’t want to be put in this exact position. She didn’t have anything to feel guilty about.
‘If the child is my client’s,’ the lawyer interrupted, ‘then I’m afraid it is his business and that also makes it my business.’ Jensen watched her, his voice gentling again. ‘Now why don’t you sit down, Miss Tremaine, so we can all discuss this like rational adults?’
The careful words made Tess feel like an errant child, being censured by her father. The memory had foolish tears prickling the backs of her eyelids. She drew in a sharp breath. No matter what, they were not going to see her cry.
‘There’s nothing to discuss,’ she said in as placid a tone as she could manage while her insides were churning. ‘I’ve told you, I don’t need or want Graystone’s money and I...’
Another vicious curse emanated from the corner of the room, ricocheting off the furniture and making everyone jump. Then Nate towered over her, rigid with fury.
‘Stop calling me Graystone. My name’s Nate.’ He grasped her upper arm in long, strong fingers and hauled her towards him. ‘As you damn well know or you wouldn’t have been sobbing it in my ear when I had you on your kitchen counter a week ago.’
The shocked silence reverberated around the room as Tess wrestled her arm free. ‘You bastard.’ She shoved him hard in the middle of his starched white shirt as the hot blood of mortification pounded in her head and turned the tips of her ears vermillion.
How could he have mentioned that here? In front of a room full of his minions?
She rubbed her arm where the touch of his fingers still burned through the silk blouse she’d worn to the meeting so she’d look chic and sophisticated. Thanks to Nate Graystone, she now looked like a cheap little tart instead.
‘Don’t think that because you...you seduced me...’ she blurted out, soldiering on when he gave a harsh incredulous laugh ‘...that gives you the right to manipulate me into doing—’
‘You have got to be kidding me,’ he roared, bearing down on her again, his blue eyes sparking with fury. ‘I’m manipulating you? Don’t make me laugh. Exactly who was it who was wrapped so tight around me one minute I could hardly breathe, then was lying their head off to me the next? You’re like a child who needs a good spanking.’
That did it.
‘You reckon?’ She shoved her chin out, folded her arms over her heaving chest and stepped into his space. ‘Why don’t you try it, big guy?’
But as he grasped her upper arms something other than fury arched between them—the molten heat in her belly matching the pulse of fire in his eyes.
‘Let her go, right this instant, Nathaniel.’ The booming shout from across the desk had them both jolting back to stare at Walter Jensen.
The elderly man raked a hand through his thinning hair revealing a rapidly receding hairline. ‘Sit down, both of you,’ he growled, jabbing a finger at them as a mottled red flush spread up his throat. ‘Everyone else, leave.’