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few weeks.
She would prove she didn’t have any residual feelings for him.
She stood in front of her bedroom mirror and counted to thirty, then keyed in the number. It was answered on the first ring.
‘Thanks for calling me back.’
His businesslike tone echoed into her ear.
Keeping her focus on her reflection, Elizabeth fixed a smile to her face so her complete lack of residual feelings for him echoed down the line. ‘No problem. My apologies for earlier. I dropped my cell phone in Rome and it’s been playing up since.’ The lie fell smoothly from her tongue. Her voice sounded as friendly as she wanted it to be.
‘Is it liable to cut out again?’
‘No. I’m back home and have switched to my old one.’
‘Good.’ Without any pause he added, ‘I need to see you.’
‘Okay.’ She dragged the word out to stop herself from screaming at him and then hurtling the cell down the toilet. Still smiling, she said, ‘Do you have a particular date in mind?’ If she could get out of this she would but her company—her very reputation—was built on her personal touch. She brought her own unique take to matchmaking and it was hugely successful. The staff she employed were for technical and clerical support only.
‘I’m flying to your part of the world shortly. Are you available to meet tomorrow?’
Xander lived on a Greek island. Elizabeth made some swift calculations. It had to be almost six a.m. there. What time did the man get up?
Then she remembered the news stories. He probably hadn’t gone to bed yet.
Or was he speaking to her from his bed? Did he have a woman asleep beside him at that very moment?
‘Elizabeth?’
Swallowing back the sick feeling roiling in her stomach, she thought of her upcoming schedule. ‘When you say tomorrow...?’
‘Saturday. I should land around three p.m. Eastern time.’
‘I have a lunch appointment tomorrow.’
‘So you can do the afternoon.’ It was a statement not a question and it set panic clawing through her.
‘I’m free for the whole of Sunday,’ she said, jumping at the chance to delay the meeting, even if only by a day. ‘Do you know where my office is?’
‘We won’t be meeting there. I need you to fly out to meet me.’
Prickles made a slow crawl up her spine but she kept her tone breezy. ‘Meet you where?’
‘St Francis.’
All the air seemed to knock itself out of her lungs and the smile fell from her face.
‘There won’t be time to get my jet to New York to collect you, so I’ll charter one to fly you over when your appointment’s finished,’ he continued. ‘Pack an overnight bag and keep Sunday clear for me.’
She couldn’t speak. Her brain had gone cold, her knees weakening enough that she shuffled back and sank onto the edge of her bed.
‘Is there a problem, Elizabeth?’ There was a hint of challenge in his businesslike tone.
She covered her mouth to hide the sound of herself clearing her throat, then said, ‘There’s no problem at all. I’ll meet wherever it’s most convenient for you.’
‘St Francis is where it’s convenient for me.’
‘Are you aware I require a down payment of a quarter of my fee for overseas trips?’ She strove to keep her voice composed and her breathing even.
‘Message me your banking details and the amount, and I’ll get it paid.’
Before she could think let alone voice any objection, he said, ‘That’s everything settled, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
And then the line went dead.
She pulled the phone away from her ear and gazed at it as if it might suddenly bite.
Had that really just happened?
Billionaires throwing their weight around was nothing new. She was used to acting on their whims and fancies, had once conducted an interview with a client in a luxury Saharan Bedouin tent less than twelve hours after his initial call. To reach billionaire status required a ruthlessness mere mortals struggled to achieve. They weren’t all bad people by any means but they were used to getting their own way and working to their own agenda, and she was used to complying with their whims. It was one of the reasons she’d become such a hit in their world.
Her conversation with Xander was a variety of one she’d held dozens of times with other clients. It hadn’t been anything special. They were strangers who happened to have been married once and spent a grand total of fourteen days together. He clearly had no residual feelings for her, just as she had none for him.
It was the destination of St Francis that had thrown her into a funk.
Of all the places in the world, why there? Why?
It couldn’t be coincidence that her ex-husband had chosen the very island where they’d met, married and separated to employ her services in finding him a new wife.
* * *
Xander disconnected the call and sighed heavily. He walked to his window and looked out over the Aegean, where the sun’s first rays bounced on the horizon between the lightening sky and the still dark sea.
That was a call he’d hoped to not have to make. After the furious row with his parents that had gone on into the early hours, he’d come to the conclusion he had no other choice.
For his nephew’s sake he needed a wife and he needed one now. It was sheer chance that he already had one.
All he had to do was convince Elizabeth to go along with it. After the way he’d ended things between them all those years ago, he knew he had a fight on his hands to get it. He could handle it. He was used to battles. Every day of his life was one.
He’d heard her sharp inhalation when he’d mentioned their destination. He’d deliberately kept their conversation short and to the point so she wouldn’t have time to object. He would not give her the time or place to reject his proposal.
Elizabeth wasn’t the girl he’d fallen for all those years ago who wore her heart on her sleeve and her emotions on her face. She’d matured into a discreet, professional woman with a cool analytical head.
She would need that cool head if she were to make the correct decision and agree to be his wife again.
THE PRIVATE JET Xander had chartered for her circled St Francis’s small airport. Elizabeth gripped the hand rest. It wasn’t fear of landing that made her knuckles whiten but fear of what the evening would bring.
She’d had one night to dream up something inventive to get out of it; family emergency, car accident, diabetic coma... She’d rejected every one of them.
When all was said and done, this was her job. Her services were discreet and known only to a select few, but those select few inhabited their own world. All it would take was one whisper of unprofessionalism or unreliability and the reputation she’d spent eight years building up would be smashed down.
The Xander she’d known didn’t exist. All she knew of the real Xander was his reputation, and that was of a man who didn’t suffer fools. If he had any affection left for her he wouldn’t have insisted they meet at St Francis.
She’d loved him once, with the whole of her heart. The morning she’d packed her suitcase full of excitement at the thought of flying to Diadonus, the island he lived