Merger By Matrimony

‘I thought you said that it was a serious business.’

‘This is a ridiculous conversation. I was simply inviting you out to meet a few people and rescue you from the prospect of spending your nights cooped up in this place.’ Alarmingly, he could detect pique in his voice. ‘Through the goodness of my heart.’

At that, she raised her eyebrows in patent disbelief and he gave her a thunderous look. ‘The goodness of your heart? You haven’t got a heart! You want to buy my company and that’s all that interests you! I’m a spoke in your wheel and you would do anything to get rid of it!’

‘That’s business,’ he muttered. ‘The fact is, that whether we like it or not, I’m engaged to your stepcousin, so we’re going to see one another in the course of things.’

‘How can you separate business from pleasure? How can you treat someone one way when you’re sitting across a desk from them and then treat them completely differently when you’re sitting across a dinner table?’

‘Why can’t you just accept what’s handed to you and not read ulterior motives behind everything?’

‘You’re the one who showed up at this house unannounced,’ she pointed out, ‘so that you could try and wheedle me into selling you the company before I’d had time to see the directors or even take advice from Derek.’

‘I was not trying to wheedle you into selling anything!’ Callum exploded. He stood up and began savagely pacing the kitchen.

‘Why don’t you just help me get the company into shape?’ she demanded. ‘That would be a good solution. And you would still have some shares in it through Stephanie.’

At this, he gave a snort of derisory laughter. ‘What, you mean pour some of my own money into your company, money I would never get back? Why the hell would I do that?’

‘What would you do with the company if I did agree to sell it to you?’ She could feel her own thought processes getting agitated and jerky. Her eyes compulsively followed him as he prowled, soaking up his expressive hands, the hard, good-looking face with its sensual, curving mouth.

‘Make it a working proposition.’

‘Don’t you mean chop it up into sections and sell it off individually once it’s up and running?’

‘Which only shows your ignorance of the facts!’ he snapped back at her. ‘I intend to incorporate it into my own portfolio.’

‘And what about the people who work there?’ she demanded.

‘Most would stay. Some would be asked to leave.’

‘Who? Who would you ask to leave?’

‘I’m not about to hand over that kind of information to you.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because we’re on opposite sides of the fence!’ He realised that he was on the verge of shouting. He was a man who couldn’t remember the last time he had raised his voice, because so much more could be achieved with a murmur—yet here he was, practically shouting. He was also breathing hard and fast, as though he had just completed a marathon. ‘You,’ he grated, approaching her chair, scraping it around so that he was staring down at her, ‘are impossible.’ He leaned over her, his hands on either side of her chair, caging her in so that she was forced backwards as though the pressure of his personality was a physical force. ‘In fact, I would go so far as to say that you are the most impossible woman I have ever met in my entire life!’ His face was inches away from hers and Destiny was suddenly terrified. Not terrified that he might hit her, or even hurl another well-targeted insult at her. She was terrified because something in what he said struck deep into her and caused her pain. The backs of her eyes began to sting and she blinked furiously.

‘That’s not very kind,’ she whispered in a small voice, and then, to her further dismay, a lonesome tear trickled down her cheek. She brushed it aside in a wave of mortification and stared down at her fingers.

‘Oh, God. Don’t do that. Please don’t do that. Here.’ He fumbled in his pocket and extracted a handkerchief. ‘Take this.’

Destiny blindly grabbed it and wiped her eyes, pressing her fingers into them to staunch any further leakage.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said roughly. ‘I didn’t think… Oh, God, say something, would you…? Please?’

She would, she thought, if she could, but she knew better than to rely on her vocal cords right now. Instead, she twisted the handkerchief in her fingers, playing with it for distraction from the appalling situation she was now in.

‘I’m sorry, Destiny. I never dreamt…’