Wanted: A Baby by the Sheikh(19)
“Let’s just hope the weather improves by then,” Taina commented wryly.
Daidan hadn’t intended to stay. He’d walked into the meeting room angry that she’d disregarded his instructions. But, as he listened to her working with her staff, the anger dissipated. In the ten days he’d been absent she’d worked hard to get up to speed on a project which had been underway for six months. He’d anticipated that she would be merely a figurehead, only nominally in charge. Someone to front the campaign. He frowned. Looked like she was taking on more than he’d imagined. That wasn’t what he’d planned. He’d thought she’d focus on the design aspect, not the overall plans.
He pushed himself off the wall. “Taina! A moment please.”
He cast a frowning look at the others and they melted out of the room.
She rose from her seat, immaculate in a black roll-neck top and vintage loose trousers that sat on her hips, accentuating her slim frame. She was the picture of a cool wealthy executive. Apart from the set of her mouth and her narrowed eyes. She folded her arms and cocked her head to one side. “A moment? Just the one?”
He walked up to her and sat on the edge of the table. “That’s what I said.”
“It may have escaped your notice but I was in a meeting. You wanted me to work. I’m working. And yet you decide to interrupt my meeting, to flex your muscles by showing everyone that you’re the boss, not me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I am the boss. However, it wasn’t my intention to show everyone that because they know.”
She grunted in frustration.
He shrugged carelessly and walked away, needing to get away from her before he bridged the distance between them and hooked her head and kissed her. But that way led to madness. As had happened last time they were alone together. It had taken him days to recover. Ridiculous! He wouldn’t let it happen again. “So why didn’t you come to The Warehouse?”
She sat as if suddenly tired and pushed her hands through her hair, which immediately flopped back into place—the fringe of blond hair falling into perfect shape, framing her oval face, sweeping brows and large eyes. Desire snapped in his gut. He walked over to the window, willing the now bright light to neutralize his need for this woman—a need that he was scared would destroy him and everything he’d worked for.
“Because I had a meeting scheduled. You wanted me to work. I’m working. Okay?”
“You should have left it to the team. They’re quite capable.”
“I know that. But I’m doing what you asked me to do.”
“I asked you to come to The Warehouse.” He turned back to face her then. “To your mother’s jewelry business. We need to discuss what we’re going to show, examine the mock-ups, and figure out which pieces we’ll make replicas of to take with us for the launches in the US and Europe. There’s a lot to do.” He shook his head. “You know, I don’t understand you at all. You’re a designer and yet you refuse to visit your mother’s prestigious premises.”
“I don’t refuse. I just prefer not to be summoned.”
“And I only summon you when you don’t appear as needed.” He narrowed his gaze. “It’s almost as if you’re scared of something.”
She turned away quickly. “Why would I be scared of a building?”
“No idea. You tell me. Scared of old ghosts?”
She shook her head and rose, jutting out her jaw in a gesture he recognized. He’d stirred her stubborn streak. “You know? I don’t think I’m scared of anything anymore. Let’s go, shall we?” She strode out of his office to her desk where she grabbed her oversized bag from which beautiful designer contents spilled, and shrugged a loose wool jacket over her shoulders.
He narrowed his eyes as that flicker of need for her flared into life again as he followed her out into the open-plan office and waited for her by the elevator.
He’d extended his business to ten days hoping the time apart would help him get his feelings under control. But he’d badly underestimated them. He doubted ten months would be long enough. She walked past him on a wave of expensive perfume. Make that ten years…
Daidan spent the entire drive to The Warehouse on his phone, while Taina stared out the window watching central Helsinki pass by. They’d soon driven over the canal that separated the island of Katajanokka from the rest of the city and passed by Uspenski Cathedral, with its extravagant gold spires and red brick, on their way to the docks. Not far away was the quay where they kept their boat for trips to their island home, but they turned away from that and headed instead to one of the coolest and most expensive addresses in Helsinki—the old warehouses with an unsurpassed view of the harbor and its archipelago of small islands. The warehouse had been in Taina’s family for generations but it had been her mother who’d supervised its conversion into a sought-after design studio.