Walking over to her, Goran wondered what she would do if he reached out and messed up her perfectly coifed hair. Or if he kissed her? Would she shudder with revulsion? Was it just him that she didn’t like? Or was it all of humanity? He’d wondered briefly if she might prefer women, because every time he almost touched her, Calista backed out of the way, silently announcing that she wanted nothing to do with him.
Tonight though…tonight he was going to tell her that their engagement needed to end. He was going to tell her that…that it wasn’t her, that he needed to focus on the business of running his country and he didn’t want to put her into a situation in which she felt less than…whatever. He didn’t care if she believed him or not, he wasn’t marrying a woman who didn’t want him. There was no way in hell he wanted to live the life of a monk!
Calista was a startlingly beautiful woman, he’d grant her that much. Her soft, creamy skin and her long, dark hair…hair that was always contained with pins and hairspray so that nothing, not even a hurricane, could mess up her style. And her clothes? Her outfits were the epitome of an ice queen! That ivory suit she’d chosen to wear today…what the hell? The color suited her creamy skin, but it also made her look…frozen. It didn’t help that her facial expressions barely moved!
No. Just…no way in hell was he marrying this woman! Their one kiss had fooled him into thinking that Calista was a passionate woman. But after that, she’d silently warned him that there was nothing passionate, or even warm, about her. Every conversational gambit he’d offered had been shut down with polite, politically correct answers and a politely cold smile. He had no idea who the real woman was underneath all of that ice.
She was cold and emotionless, with none of the spirit or spunk that he’d been hoping was beneath that startlingly beautiful exterior. She couldn’t even converse about…anything other than politics! Oh, she was well versed in many of the political issues both of their countries were striving to handle right now. But there was more to life than politics! What did she think and feel and dream about? What was the real Calista like? And why the hell did she constantly bring up those tedious conversational topics when there was so much more that they needed to discuss?!
Tonight, he told himself. Tonight, he’d break off their engagement. He’d let her tell the press anything she wanted, just as long as he didn’t have to live with her for the rest of his life!
Sitting down in the chair next to her, he gritted his teeth when Calista shifted her legs to the right, as far away from any part of him as possible.
Just to irritate her, Goran stretched his arm out along the back of her chair, keeping a blank expression on his features when her body tensed.
He didn’t care. This would be their last public appearance together. Of course, he’d have to talk with Astir about the issue. Sheik Astir wasn’t just Calista’s brother. He was also Goran’s friend. As leaders of neighboring countries, they’d had disagreements over the years, but they’d always remained friends and had been able to work out their differences.
Goran hoped that this wouldn’t be the issue that dissolved their friendship. Goran had been the best man at Astir’s wedding. He would talk to his friend and explain the situation. Goran wanted a marriage just like Astir’s and he wouldn’t settle for anything less.
He definitely wouldn’t settle for the cold, emotionless relationship that, apparently, Calista had been anticipating.
“Your plan had better work!” Harvey Neville snarled. “I don’t want a catastrophe like the last idiot created. No collapsed buildings, no missing investigators and get the damn mineral deposit out of the earth and to my factories!”
Neville watched as the former gangster sitting in his office barely controlled his sneer after that tirade. “My plan will work.” Ned Afrehoster asserted firmly. He sat in the chair, cool and calm after explaining how he would distract the Skyla government so Neville’s mining equipment could move into position. They’d attack the efiasia deposit from a different angle this time since the Silarian government was still trying to investigate the village that had caved into the earth during the last mining attempt.
Neville leaned back in his massive leather chair, lacing his gnarled fingers together. “What if it doesn’t?”
Ned lifted a dark eyebrow. “If you don’t trust me, then just say so now and I’ll get out of the way so you can hire someone you do trust.”
Neville snorted. “I don’t trust anyone but myself!” He sighed, a rattling sound coming from his lungs like a death rattle, and shifted slightly to ease the ache in his old bones. “When will it happen?”
Ned shrugged, his mouth shifting casually. “Soon.”
That one word response obviously irritated Neville, which only delighted Ned. “I want details!” Neville roared. “I need that mineral deposit and I need it fast! If you want me to trust you, then you’re damn well going to give me details!”
Ned chuckled. “You already told me that you only trust yourself. So nothing I say is going to engender trust.” He stood up, jerking the sides of his suit jacket as he looked down at the older man. “It will happen soon. But let me assure you,” he started off, leaning forward on the old man’s desk, “if I fail, then you’d better not come after me the way you did Kipsinger.” The warning was given in a soft, threatening voice. “He was already in prison. Having him stabbed in the back was cowardly.”
Neville’s face contorted with rage. “He failed me!”
Ned pushed away, straightening once again. “Whatever. I won’t fail.”
With that assurance given, Ned turned and walked out of the man’s office.