“Good morning, Zandra.” She could hear his smile. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.” Her lips curved wryly. “It seems that we’re making progress.”
“How so?”
“Instead of calling, you usually just show up unannounced and make me go to lunch with you.”
Remy chuckled, low and husky. “I couldn’t wait that long to hear your voice again.”
Zandra closed her eyes, heat curling from the base of her skull to the bottom of her spine. “Well, um, I’m not free for lunch today.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve been out of the office, and I have work to catch up on.”
“And it will be there when you get back from lunch.”
“That’s not the point—”
“Listen.”
Never had one word conveyed such quiet authority.
Zandra snapped her mouth shut, her pulse thudding as she waited for him to continue.
“I let you ignore me for the rest of our trip because I knew you needed time to process what had happened between us. For that same reason I didn’t come to your room the next night, even though it killed me to stay away, and I couldn’t sleep worth a damn because my dick was so hot and hard for you—”
Oh, God, Zandra thought as a ripple of lust shot to her groin, making her cross her legs tightly.
“On the flight back home,” he continued, “I let you get away with sitting next to Royce instead of me, and I didn’t say a word when you insisted on having your driver pick you up from the airport, even though you’d previously agreed to let me take you home.” He paused, his voice turning dangerously silky. “Under the circumstances, I think I’ve shown remarkable patience and restraint. But if you think I’m going to keep my distance and pretend that nothing has changed between us, you obviously haven’t met me.”
Zandra was silent, heart thumping, hand pressed to her quivering belly.
“So what time should I pick you up for lunch?”
Zandra dragged in a shaky breath, then exhaled on a sigh of defeat. “Be here at twelve-thirty.”
Remy chuckled low. “Atta girl.”
Incensed at the dark satisfaction in his voice, Zandra scowled. “I’m in the mood for Mirage,” she said peevishly, knowing how much he hated the modern fusion cuisine served at the trendy downtown restaurant.
But instead of balking at the suggestion, Remy merely drawled, “Whatever you want, babe. See you soon.”
“Fine.” Zandra hung up, then swiveled toward the window and glared at the cerulean summer sky as if it were to blame for her problems.
It’s just lunch, she assured herself. It’s not like he can debauch me in public.
But then again...
The phone on her desk buzzed a second time.
“Zandra?” Christine spoke through the intercom. “There’s a gentleman here to see you.”
Zandra frowned, swiveling back toward her desk. She wasn’t expecting anyone that morning. “Who is it, Chris?”
There was a pause. “Landis Kennedy.”
Zandra froze, her spine stiffening in shock as the blood drained from her head.
Staring at the phone as if it were a venomous snake poised to strike, she said tightly, “I don’t have an appointment with Mr. Kennedy.”
“I know, but he says it’s important that he see you.”
Zandra closed her eyes, her fingers curling on the arms of her chair. After all these years, what could he possibly want from her?
“Zandra?” Christine prompted. “Should I send him back?”
I’d rather you send him to hell where he belongs, Zandra thought darkly.
“Yes,” she relented through gritted teeth. “Show him to my office.”
Releasing her death grip on the chair, she took a slow, deep breath and prepared to face her past.
Moments later Landis Kennedy strode through the door of her office as if he had every right to be there, every right to intrude.