One Night in the Orient (6 page)

It took a second or two for his meaning to sink in. When it did, shame submerged her in a chilly deluge. Although the last thing she wanted was to see the contempt she heard in his voice, she dragged in a juddering, painful breath and opened her eyes, meeting a burnished, metallic gaze she couldn’t read.

“I can’t … No, I don’t want that,” she muttered, and pulled herself away, only to realise that this exposed her bare torso to his gaze.

Nick’s hooded gaze didn’t waver. Embarrassed, she grabbed at the sheet, but he was sitting on it.

He got up in one lithe movement, turning away so he didn’t see how desperately she retreated behind the fragile shield of fabric, so drugged by a bewildering mixture of emotions she couldn’t formulate any words that might sound sensible.

He was clad only in a pair of pyjama pants, and the sight of him—big, sleekly bronzed, powerful with a build that could only come from sheer strength—made her mouth go dry.

Siena swallowed, and said thinly, “I’m sorry. I don’t … I don’t know what came over me.”

His smile was sardonic. “It’s called proximity, and it’s pretty universal. It happened to us once before, remember?”

Oh, God, if only she could forget!

“Yes, I remember.” Ignoring the colour that suffused her skin, she met his eyes with dogged determination.

Before she could say anything he went on harshly, “I regret—intensely—my behaviour that night. I wish I’d handled it better so that we could have remained friends.”

Proximity? Friends?

The cool lack of emotion in his tone, in his choice of words, hit her like a shower of frigid water. Steadying her voice, she said, “Nick, it’s all right. D-don’t worry about it. It’s over now, in the past.”

After a moment’s hesitation she went on in a rush, “Gemma emailed me. It’s—she and Adrian are in love. She’s desperately miserable about the situation.”

He gave her a keen look. “So you want to go home and take care of her.”

“I want to get home as soon as I can,” she said shortly. “I’m sorry for weeping all over you. I haven’t
had a nightmare since I was a kid.” Before she had time to think, she added with an attempt at lightness, “You needn’t be concerned that I’ll tell Portia what happened.”

“I’m not.” He didn’t try to temper his curtness. “We don’t have that sort of relationship.”

So why did she call you
darling?

A swift, shaming flare of jealousy consumed her, and she was appalled by an urge to ask him to elaborate on that terse statement. Firming her lips, she held the words back by force of will.

Not that she’d have got an answer. He was already turning away.

Siena’s throat closed and her heart jumped in her chest. Even from the back he was stunning. His coppery hide highlighted wide shoulders and narrow hips to perfection, the taut skin smoothing over long, powerful muscles.

Made shy by his dynamic physical perfection, a need she didn’t understand compelled her to say his name.

He stopped and half turned to look at her. “What is it?”

She said huskily, “Thank you for your … for comforting me.” And added crossly, “I wish I could finish just one sentence instead of stumbling over words!”

“You just did,” he said, smiling briefly. “Do you think you’ll be able to sleep now?”

S
IENA
understood. Nick was deliberately turning the clock back, trying to restore their relationship to its previous standing of almost-family. Shocked by the strength of her dismay, she stemmed the protest that trembled on her tongue.

She said quietly, “Yes, of course.”

“I’ll get you something to drink.” His mouth quirked in a familiar mixture of mockery and amusement. “You’ll need to rehydrate after all those tears.”

“Thank you, but I can get some water for myself.” Desperate for him to go, she glanced at the door to the charming small
en suite
bathroom.

“Stay there,” he said tersely.

Hurt by the edge to his voice, she tried to suppress the strange jumble of thoughts and emotions churning through her, closing her eyes until he came back.

Not that she’d hear him. He’d always moved silently—a born predator, her father once had called him.

Well, her father had been wrong. If Nick had been a predator then right now—at this very minute, she thought with a voluptuous heat melting her bones—they’d be erotically entwined in the great bed.

Because she had as little resistance to his dangerous charm as when she’d been a virginal nineteen-year-old.

Fortunately—
fortunately,
she emphasised to her wistful heart—he’d had the self-control to stop and make sure she understood his lovemaking would be what it had been then. Nothing more than an emotionless passion—mere animal hunger with no feelings beyond the physical.

He’d given her the chance to pull back.

She had to be glad she’d taken that chance. Surrendering would have been the most foolish thing she’d ever done—apart from yielding to her own importunate desire that long-ago, better-forgotten night.

Nick’s voice jolted her lashes upwards. “Most people prefer to sleep lying down. Here, drink this.”

“Thank you,” she said huskily, fingers gripping the smooth, cool tumbler. Her hand shook, so she hastily lifted it to her mouth and managed to get some of the water down her parched throat without spilling any.

“Sleep well,” he said after another of those metallic, unreadable glances. He turned and walked out of the room, the light gleaming golden over his lithe, powerful form.

The chill Siena had felt after the kiss was reinforced by his very definite rejection.

So what was new? She sipped more water and tried to organise her chaotic, bewildered thoughts.

Nick’s first instinct had been to comfort. The situation had changed only once she’d calmed down enough to realise what was happening to her. Men could want women they disliked, so it wasn’t surprising he’d responded to her unconscious nestling against him.

But why had she allowed the security of Nick’s arms
around her, his rock-solid embrace, to banish everything else from her mind?

Had her love for Adrian, that gentle, safe refuge from any chance of anguish, not been love at all?

That was even worse, she thought miserably, sickened by the possibility of her own self-deceit. Surely it wasn’t true—after all, she’d been shocked by Adrian’s email.

Shocked and upset.

Gemma’s email had added to her distress, its wildly passionate tone a real worry. She needed to get back home as quickly as she could so she could convince her sister—and maybe by extension herself—that Gemma hadn’t wrecked her life.

Hastily she drank more, before setting the tumbler down with a small clink on the bedside table and closing her eyes again. She had to face the truth. Her main emotions were astonishment, and a kind of chagrin, not the fierce, bleak grief that had gripped her for months when Nick had left New Zealand after their night together.

Yet the wild need that had propelled her into Nick’s bed hadn’t been love. It was lust.

And now she knew it was powerful enough to rekindle a fire that had lasted five long years. In Nick’s arms she’d been utterly blown away by the sensations rioting through her.

Nick hadn’t.

Oh, he’d wanted her—but he’d been able to control himself.

She grabbed the tumbler and gulped the last mouthful of water, coughed as it went down the wrong way, and breathed through her nose. Once her spluttering
had eased, she found herself thrilling to the memory of that kiss.

Let it go,
she told herself fiercely.
You lost your head. It happens. Get over it.

Now she knew how shamefully susceptible she was to his powerful charisma she’d make sure it didn’t happen again—and so, no doubt, would Nick. He wasn’t into serious relationships, and right now she’d had enough of them too.

Once she got home, safely distant from Nick’s orbit, she’d avoid him as she had these past years. She’d set herself to finding a decent position where her immediate boss was either a woman, or safely and happily married.

The searing intensity of Nick’s kiss meant nothing.

So tomorrow she’d have to make it clear she understood—that she wasn’t expecting anything from him.

Well after dawn she was woken by the housekeeper carrying a breakfast tray. Clever of Nick, she thought as she thanked the woman. It was a good way to put off the meeting she dreaded. She ate most of the delicious food, drank some restorative coffee, but eventually had to emerge from the bedroom.

As if she’d been lying in wait, the housekeeper instantly appeared. “Mr Grenville would like to see you in his study, miss, if that’s all right?”

Siena braced herself. “Can you show me where that is?”

“This way.”

Nick’s study was more of an office; Siena’s swift survey revealed a very impressive communications setup on a large desk and a set of filing cabinets, their businesslike impact softened by shelves of books and
a stunning oil of a place she recognised immediately. The pictured beach was the one that spread out below his house on Auckland’s North Shore.

The owner of all this was standing by the window, watching her. Of course he didn’t look any different, whereas she felt as though somehow last night—no, she conscientiously amended, the previous twenty-four hours—had begun a fundamental process of change.

And that was a very, very scary thought.

Nick’s enigmatic gaze probed her face in an examination that had her stomach twisting—a sensation halfway between apprehension and a shameful thrill until it settled on her dress, and he allowed himself a slight oblique smile.

“I know, I know,” she said crisply, determined to sound her usual self. “Very morning-after-the-night-before-ish.”

A muscle flicked in his jaw, but when he spoke his tone couldn’t have been more neutral. “You look lovely, as always.”

“You’re thinking of my sister,” she corrected, aware that she was not lovely. Good skin, yes. Nice hair, certainly.

Lovely, never.

“Gemma is beautiful,” he agreed, “but you’ve always been extremely attractive. Are you envious of your sister’s beauty?”

Surprised by the direct question, she didn’t have to think about it. Shaking her head vigorously she said, “No. What I’d really like is her long legs. I think I suffer from small person’s syndrome because I’ve always had to crane just to see what everyone else does.”

He laughed out loud at that. “Your legs are in
proportion. As for small person’s syndrome, I doubt that. Your mother says you were born determined to establish your place in the world.”

“Stroppy,” she sighed. This was the Nick she’d known most of her life. “Short people have to make a lot of noise because we’re always being overlooked.”

“I refuse to believe anyone ever overlooked you.” He glanced at his watch. In an entirely different tone he said, “I’m expecting a call, but before it arrives I want to talk about your situation. Will you accept the money from me to pay your hotel bill here?”

“No,” she blurted, outraged.

“Why? You wouldn’t have to worry about your finances. You’d have a week to explore London, and then go home on the ticket you already have.”

He made it sound as though it was a perfectly normal thing to do. Indeed, from his point of view, a week’s hotel bill would be insignificant.

Yet Siena couldn’t do it.

“No,” she said more temperately. “I’m not accepting money from you, and I have to get home as soon as I can.”

He inspected her with chilling dispassion. “So you can hold Gemma’s hand and tell her everything’s fine, that stealing your fiancé is nothing to worry about? Don’t you think it’s time she grew up and stopped relying on you so much?”

Siena blinked, but said fiercely, “I
want
to go home.”

Nick shrugged. “I’m heading for Hong Kong this afternoon. You can come with me if you want to.”

Wondering if she’d heard right, she stared at him.

His expression was as unreadable as ever, but his tone was hard and cold. “This must be the first time

I’ve ever seen you without an answer. A simple yes or no will suffice.”

Buying time, she asked, “Why?”

“Why am I going? On business—I’m meeting there with a Chinese government delegation.”

“I can’t just go winging off to Hong Kong with you,” she managed, her leaping heart shortening her breath.

“Why not? Chances are this will be your fastest way home.”

The formidable authority of his tone told her he’d closed the door on last night’s episode. Wishing fervently she could keep her life in compartments too, Siena opened her mouth to object.

Then closed it again when Nick continued, “The meeting will take all tomorrow, and after that I’m travelling on to New Zealand, so you’ll have time for a very quick look around Hong Kong. Have you ever been there?”

She shook her head. “It sounds great,” she said, ignoring the temptation that licked seductively through her, fogging her brain. “But not even you will be able to get last-minute tickets to the other side of the world, especially when there’s no emergency, and anyway, I can’t afford—”

“It won’t cost you anything—or me. I have an interest in the plane,” he said calmly, as though it was the most normal thing in the world.

Siena blinked, then gave a wry smile. “Of course you have.” She took a deep breath. It would be far too dangerous to her peace of mind to go anywhere with him. “What about a hotel …?”

She registered a fleeting look of steel and her words trailed away.

“If you’re wondering if I intend to seduce you, relax,” he said, in a voice that sent a pang of shame though her. “You’ll be perfectly safe. You want to get back home, and I’m heading in that direction, with a business stopover. It’s the most sensible thing for you to do.”

Siena bit her lip, with difficulty holding back the words
I’m not a charity case.
Boldly facing him, she said, “Of course I don’t think you’d try anything—well,
anything.”
Colour heated her skin but she went on, “It’s just—I don’t want to be a nuisance.”

“Trust me, you’ll be less of a nuisance where I can keep an eye on you than alone here in London with your money running out. I have a suite in one of the big Hong Kong hotels so it will cost me nothing extra to have you with me.”