Breaking the Boss's Rules

‘How?’

‘I gate-crashed the wedding rehearsal and threw myself on Simone’s mercy. I think she was quite pleased to see me.’

‘You did what? What did you tell them?’

‘I told them the truth. That I needed to see you. We need to talk. A bit more privately. There’s a bench round the corner. We’ve got a bit of time before the ceremony.’

Imogen hesitated.

‘Please.’

The word disarmed her. Joe was used to giving orders—plus he’d come all this way—plus … Plus she wanted to be with him, wanted to make the most of every minute, and wouldn’t a proper closure be better than the way it had ended? No doubt that was why he was here.

‘OK. But we can’t be long.’

She followed him through the picturesque graveyard, tried to concentrate on the old gravestones, the feeling of history and peace, the autumnal smell in the air, the redbrown leaves on the trees.

‘Here we go. It’s secluded enough here and out of the wind. I checked.’

‘How forward-thinking of you,’ Imogen managed as she attempted to try and think through a haze of misplaced happiness. It was as though there had been a bit of her missing and now she was whole. She needed to get a grip.

‘Isn’t it?’

His eyes raked over her as she sat down and spread the swirl of her turquoise dress out so that he couldn’t get too close. Close would be a bad idea. The man was uptight, rule-orientated, cold. A man who thought three nights was a commitment he couldn’t deal with. But despite herself she craved the warmth of his body.

Her memory was flooded with the way he’d held her, the way he’d shown her so much about herself, the way he’d made love to her.

‘Joe, it’s OK. I’m OK. You don’t have to explain anything. Everything has worked out fine. As you know, better than anyone, Langley is safe. I’m not going to melt down or be permanently affected by the time we had together or the way you behaved. Though, for the record, it sucked.’

‘You’re right. It did. And I’m sorry.’

The flare of hope she hadn’t even realised she’d harboured died. He was here to apologise—nothing more.

‘Apology accepted. Now, please don’t feel you have to stay. Steve and I are good. We’ve worked out our differences. I can more than manage on my own.’

The words were true but oh, how she wished it wasn’t like t

his. Her heart ached; her chest was banded with pain.

‘So I guess this is goodbye. Again.’

This was so not the way it was supposed to play out—hard to understand how he who could grasp control of any boardroom meeting—anywhere, any time—couldn’t manage this situation.

Panic sheened the nape of his neck with moisture. Imogen was saying goodbye—he’d obviously blown any available bridge sky-high.

‘No.’

Was that croak his voice? Time to step up—because no way was he losing this woman without at least a fight.

‘No,’ he repeated firmly. ‘It’s not.’

‘There is nothing more to say.’

‘That’s where you are so very wrong. There is a load more to say. But first I need to say the most important thing.’

‘What’s that?’

‘I love you.’