‘Jett?’ She heard him echo her response sharply, a frown snapping the black, straight brows together, cold eyes looking down into her upturned face.
Those amazing eyes narrowed, the beautiful mouth tightening as his head came up and he took a step back, away from her.
‘Red... I didn’t know you worked here.’
Worked here. Perhaps that was a score one to the fact that he really was here by accident. That he hadn’t sought her out—because why would he do that after all this time? The thought didn’t help with the thumping of her heart, the feeling like the beating of a thousand butterfly wings in the pit of her stomach. He hadn’t come looking for her and it was all just a terrible misstep of fate.
But that dark emphasis on the word you twisted something in her guts, bringing home an awareness of the fact that she was all alone, not even Louise in the office, within call. Tension stiffened her back, tightened her shoulders.
‘And I didn’t know you worked for Nairo Moreno.’
That brought an unexpected twist to his mouth, the sensual lips twitching into something that could have been described as a smile but was totally without any warmth in it. His eyes seemed to impale her where she stood.
‘Not worked... I am Nairo Moreno. I came here to see Ms Cavalliero. Oh—what, my darling Red...?’
The smile grew wider, darker.
‘Did you think I was here to see you? That I would have hunted you down after all this time, determined to find you?’
She had actually considered that fact, Nairo told himself. It was written all over her beautiful face. The young girl he had once known as ‘Red’ had always held the promise of being a looker, but he had never anticipated her growing into the sleek, sexy vision who stood before him.
That pert bottom that had caught his attention from the start was only a small part of a slim, shapely figure displayed to full advantage in the cream lace blouse and navy blue, clinging skirt. The hair that had once been the vivid, vibrant colour that gave her her nickname was now a more subtle auburn shade, still with the glint of red blending in with the glossy darker tones. Those almond-shaped, slightly slanting hazel eyes were even more feline than before when accentuated with the subtle use of cosmetics that she would never have been able to afford back then.
A swift, sharp inward shake of his head broke the train of his thoughts, dragging them back from the path down which they had wandered.
She was the last thing he wanted in his world right now. Hadn’t she come close to ruining his life all those years before? Ten years younger, and a lifetime more naïve, he had risked losing everything for the sake of a few short nights of heedless passion. He had even, foolishly, blindly, come close to giving her a piece of his heart. Only to discover that he had been nothing to her when the promise of a reward for information had more appeal instead.
‘It’s taken me rather a long time—don’t you think? Ten years. So why should I suddenly turn round and want to see you again? You can relax about that, Red—I am not looking for you but for your boss.’
‘My boss?’
‘Sí. Ms Rose Cavalliero. The owner of this business, and the designer of...’
An autocratic wave of his hand indicated the two beautiful dresses displayed on mannequins in the corner of the room. Of course, Rose realised, he was here to discuss the design of his sister’s wedding dress. But the realisation that he still thought she was only the receptionist, that he hadn’t put two and two together to recognise that the ‘Scarlett’ in her business name was in fact her, was in no way eased by the thought of that commission he’d come to discuss.
Oh, no, no! She couldn’t work for him. She wouldn’t do it. OK, so it might mean a real coup for her business. A boost to her reputation that would be of immeasurable value. But would it be worth it?
All the money in the world couldn’t compensate for spending time with Jett—with this Nairo Moreno as he now called himself. Even if he hadn’t come looking for revenge, it was obvious that he could barely bring himself to be polite to her.
But how could she get out of it?
‘So where is she?’
The question came coldly, curtly, and seeing the hard set of his face Rose was swamped by a rush of cold unease.
To see the smoulder of dark anger in his eyes made her feet feel unsafe on the floor, her mouth drying sharply. If only she had known who this Nairo Moreno really was, then she would never have agreed to meet him today.
But of course he didn’t realise exactly who she was. He still believed that she was only the receptionist. For a second the desire to put him in his place by pointing out that she owned the whole establishment and was the designer he had said he so wanted to meet warred with a sense of self-preservation. What she really wanted was to get rid of him before he brought his malign influence back into her present as he had done to her past.
‘She couldn’t be here. Her mother isn’t well.’
Well, that was true enough. And the closer she could get to the truth with this man, the less likely she was to give herself away.
‘She didn’t think to send a message to let me know?’ The anger was there now, in a frigid form. ‘That’s hardly good business practice.’
‘It—it was an emergency. She got called away unexpectedly.’
‘I see.’
His tone said the exact opposite as he pushed back the immaculate white cuff of his shirt and checked the time. On the sort of platinum watch that the man she had once known could never have afforded.
Unless of course... The coldness at her spine turned into a slow, icy creeping sensation that made her remember just why she had had to run out on him, the darkness of the world that she had discovered she had fallen into.
‘I’m sure she’ll be in touch...’
When she had some excuse ready. Some reason why she couldn’t take on his commission. She’d think of something when she wasn’t faced with telling it to him in person. Right now, all she wanted was for him to get out of her life and stay out. For good this time.
‘I’ll be waiting for her message.’
The dark thread of anger that laced the statement turned it into an unspoken threat, making her heart clench painfully so that she had to struggle to draw her next breath.
‘I’ll tell her.’ Embarrassingly it was a revealing squeak.
Unable to meet those coldly assessing eyes, Rose hurried to the door, deliberately moving so as not to risk touching him, or come within reach of one of those long-fingered hands that now rested lightly on the smooth leather belt that encircled his narrow waist. She didn’t want to remember anything about the touch of those hands, and the thought of them coming anywhere near her again set the butterflies fluttering wildly in her stomach all over again.
‘You do that.’
This was not at all how he had expected the day to go, Nairo reflected as he watched this new Red march to the door and yank it open, standing there stiff and taut, rejection in every inch of her slender body. The meeting with some society designer he had anticipated had not happened and instead he had found himself confronted by memories from his past stirring the silt in which he’d believed they were buried.
Forcing him to remember how this one slip of a girl had turned his life upside down, blackening his name just when he was fighting to win back his father’s respect, and then walked out on him.
To remember how soft her skin had felt, the warmth of her body as she had curled up to him on the rough and ready ‘bed’ that had been all the furniture their room had