‘Good to meet you, Mr Williams.’
She took his hand. Shook in two quick pumps. It shouldn’t have heated his blood. Shouldn’t have had any effect on him whatsoever.
It did.
‘If I call you Elena, you’ll have to call me Micah,’ he said, hoping to heaven his voice was normal and not tinted with the desire he suddenly felt.
‘It feels...’ she hesitated ‘...wrong to call you Micah.’
‘Wrong?’ Another interesting fact. ‘How so?’
‘Unprofessional,’ she clarified.
‘This is about the article.’
‘Yes, of course.’ She frowned. ‘What else could it be about?’
This unexpected attraction between us?
‘Nothing else. We’re on the same page.’
He pressed the button that called the flight attendant, and when the man appeared ordered himself a drink. With alcohol. To shock his system into behaving. Elena ordered a water. There was that professionalism again. It obviously meant a lot to her. But why?
‘I promise not to consider you unprofessional if you use my first name,’ he said, accepting the glass from the flight attendant. ‘I won’t tell anyone at the newspaper either.’
‘Thank you.’ Her tone was somehow a mixture of dryness and gratitude. Fascinating creature, the John heiress. ‘I’ll call you Micah—’ he ignored the thrill that beat in his heart ‘—for the duration of this week. Since we are spending it together, it might be strange to continue speaking to you so formally.’ She didn’t give him a chance to process before she was asking, ‘Is the itinerary for this week finalised?’
She was putting distance between them, he realised. He kept his smile to himself. He wasn’t sure what was amusing him more: the fact that she felt the need to put distance between them when they’d barely known one another for an hour; or how seamlessly she’d done so. He was being managed. Expertly. He hadn’t thought much about how her being an heiress would affect this business trip. Well, other than his plan to endear himself to her. But now he was experiencing it.
A journalist had never put him in his place so skilfully before. Nor a woman. He barely felt that he’d been moved, let alone gently, if firmly, lowered to the ground. It was tied into the professionalism somehow. The attraction. He had no idea—and he wanted to know. Except that wasn’t why she was here. He needed to remember that.
‘It is. The one my assistant emailed to you is accurate, apart from two meetings that I have scheduled for our last day in Rome. It was the only time my client was available,’ he added apologetically.
‘You don’t have to explain,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘I know how it goes with business trips.’
‘I imagine you do.’
Her brow lifted, but she didn’t engage. ‘Is there a reason Serena isn’t joining us?’
‘I wanted time to speak with you.’
‘That’s why you don’t have your laptop open either?’
‘I wouldn’t have my laptop open when I have a guest.’
She laughed. It was a light, bubbly sound he found delightful. Again, not relevant.
‘We both know guests don’t get in the way of business, Micah.’
He lifted his glass to his lips thoughtfully. ‘I’m beginning to think your experience of business and the way I conduct mine are different.’
She studied him for a moment, then reached into the huge white handbag she’d brought with her and pulled out her phone. She pressed a few buttons, and suddenly a large red dot was gleaming up at him.
‘I’m beginning to think so, too,’ she replied, despite the minutes that had passed. ‘Why don’t we start talking about those differences?’ She touched her finger to her phone’s screen. The device began recording. ‘What inspired you to start this business, Mr Williams?’
An expert at managing, he thought again, and answered her.