The following morning, Elinor checked Sami into the workplace crèche that made her daily life so much simpler than it might otherwise have been. The crèche was brand new and state-of-the-art and it was the main reason why Elinor had been overjoyed when she got a job at Havertons. Having passed a year-long business course with flying colours after Sami’s birth, she was now happily employed in a position with the company. Indeed there was only one cloud in Elinor’s sky. At the start of the month, finding it difficult to negotiate the uncertainties of the financial markets, Havertons had changed hands, swallowed up by a much larger player in the insurance hierarchy. Ever since then office tensions had risen. Everyone was worried that jobs would be shed and Elinor was equally afraid that the new ownership would close the crèche as a costcutting measure.
When Elinor arrived at her desk, the buzz in the accounts department was unusually loud. ‘What’s all the racket about?’ she asked her neighbour.
‘The CEO of RS Industries is paying us a personal visit today. The big bosses are hyper at only getting a few hours’ notice.’
Just over an hour later Elinor was summoned to her manager’s office and she was only a little anxious as to the cause.
‘Miss Leslie,’ Daniel Harper greeted her with a frown, using the surname she had assumed when she’d left Jasim. ‘You’re to go up to the top floor immediately and present yourself at Executive Reception.’
Elinor looped a straying auburn curl back behind a delicate ear and murmured uncertainly, ‘Am I allowed to ask why?’
Daniel sighed. ‘You can ask but I can’t answer you. Your presence has been requested upstairs and I’m afraid that’s all I know about the matter.’
Made uneasy by his perplexity and concerned that somehow she had got into trouble, for she had never before been on the executive floor, Elinor headed for the lift. As she was whirred up several floors she reminded herself that her recent appraisal had rated her well for her diligence. She studied her reflection in the shiny stainless-steel wall, wondering if she should have taken a moment to tidy her hair, for her rebellious curls were always trying to escape confinement. Her calf-length grey skirt and white ruffled blouse were unexciting, but when she had begun putting together an office wardrobe she had found it easiest to ring the changes by sticking to plain base colours.
In the act of walking towards the reception area she centred her attention on the group of men already standing there. She recognised the MD of Havertons first, a tall toothy man with thinning hair and an anxious expression. Only as she drew closer did she recognise the bold classic profile of the even taller male to one side of the MD and her footsteps faltered. Shock washed over her like a drowning tidal wave. Her skin turned clammy and broke out in goose bumps. It was Jasim! Yet she fought the conviction, reasoning that such a coincidence was so unlikely that she had to be mistaken.
But when he turned his arrogant dark head in her direction there could no longer be any room for doubt. Her heart started to thump frighteningly fast, adrenalin pumping up her responses as apprehension threatened to overwhelm her. Sheathed in a faultlessly cut black business suit that was the last word in tailored sophistication, Jasim looked spectacularly handsome and stylish. For a split second, Elinor collided with deepset dark golden eyes that glittered like fire in the impassive planes of his bronzed face. Her throat closed over. Yet, even on edge with stress and trepidation, she could not suppress the leap of her senses in response to his presence. Although she hated him she could not be impervious to his charisma or the simple fact that, from the crown of his proud dark head to the soles of his almost certainly handmade shoes, he was still indisputably the most gorgeous guy she had ever seen in human form.
‘Miss Leslie?’ The MD addressed her as affably as though they were friends instead of complete strangers. ‘I believe you have a child in the crèche here. His Royal Highness, Prince Jasim, the CEO of our parent company, has requested a tour of the crèche facility in your company.’
So determined was Elinor not to betray her nervous tension that she automatically half extended a hand in polite greeting and then let it drop back to her side again as Jasim’s stunning eyes smouldered like punitive flames over her. She sensed the anger restrained by his fierce self-discipline and, since she considered herself to be just as much an injured party as he evidently did, she lifted her head high and thrust up her chin in challenge.
Jasim was inflamed by that defiant look in her bright green eyes. After what she had done, how dared she challenge him? How dared she masquerade under a name that was not hers and stroll up to him without so much as a womanly blush on her cheeks? What a performer she was! A woman without a drop of shame over her conduct, he reflected bitterly, repressing his bitter anger with difficulty, for she had run away with his son and kept him apart from him.
‘Miss Leslie,’ he breathed in gritty acknowledgement, his veiled gaze scanning her flawless features and lingering for several taut seconds before lowering to the cushioned swell of her full lower lip. His memory of the taste of her sent a current of electrifying erotic intent straight to his groin and he set his teeth together, infuriated by that unruly physical reaction.
An aide already had the lift waiting for them. Elinor stepped in again, her mind a hive of bemused activity. ‘CEO of our parent company,’ the managing director had said. Jasim? Did that mean that his was the visit that had got everyone in such a tizzy? And that he was the new owner of Havertons and also the CEO of RS Industries? And if it did, did that mean he had accidentally contrived to take over the company that employed her? Elinor did not believe in ridiculous coincidences. In her opinion if something looked suspicious, it probably was. The silence sizzled with undertones. Her tummy sank like a stone while the lift travelled downward. Sami was surely the only reason that would lead Jasim into professing an interest in seeing the crèche, she reasoned fearfully. He had to know that their son was there…he wanted to see Sami.
‘I wasn’t expecting our next meeting to happen in a public place,’ Elinor remarked, only recalling the two bulky bodyguards occupying the lift with them after she had spoken.
‘Be grateful for it,’Jasim breathed with roughened bite.
The raw anger in his hard gaze sent a spooky chill down her taut spinal cord. Even so, Elinor could not resist shrugging a slim shoulder in dismissal of that masculine warning. ‘We have nothing to say to each other.’
‘On the contrary,’ Jasim contradicted icily. ‘I have a great deal to say to you.’
Infuriated by his patronising tone of address, Elinor breathed in deep, because while she cou
ld easily have matched that assurance she was not looking forward to the inevitable confrontation. He was a rat, a dangerously clever, unfeeling and unscrupulous rat, who had brazenly played on her trust and naivety to get her into bed. Her face burned at the humiliating recollection of what an easy touch she had proved to be. At the same time, however, there was one subject that she felt she had to tackle.
‘I was very sorry to hear of your brother’s death,’ she remarked stiffly, recollecting how shocked and upset she had been to read about Prince Murad’s sudden death from a heart attack the previous year.
‘We were all shocked. Murad had a health check every few months but nothing irregular was ever identified,’ Jasim proffered grimly. ‘He was a bitter loss.’
Elinor had felt sad when she had read about the older man’s demise and then rather guilty when, soon afterwards, she had gone out and sold the diamond engagement ring she had inherited from her mother, Rose. The eye-watering value of the ring had astonished her and she had used the proceeds to buy the flat she currently shared with her friends. The security of a decent roof over her head had made single parenthood seem less intimidating.
She entered the crèche at a smart pace. The manageress, Olivia, had been pre-warned and was waiting at the entrance for them. Jasim was quick to engage her in well-bred conversation.
Elinor, however, was in panic mode. Spotting Sami reclining in a baby seat and playing with a brightly coloured toy, Elinor went straight to her son and released his safety belt to lift him. Sami chortled with pleasure and opened his arms wide. Anxious tears prickled the back of Elinor’s eyes as her arms closed round his precious weight and warmth.
‘Elinor…’ Olivia called. ‘You can go into my office if you like.’
The older woman’s eyes were bright with curiosity. Elinor evaded them, pacing back towards Jasim’s tall, darkly handsome figure with extreme reluctance. But he wasn’t looking at her. His entire attention was welded to the little boy she held and when she got close he startled her by reaching out. ‘Let me hold my son,’ he urged with unconcealed impatience.
Elinor saw comprehension fly into Olivia’s face, only to unleash an even more avid expression of curiosity. Although she had no desire to let go of Sami, she did not want to risk a scene that might upset her child. And Jasim, she registered as she clashed with his expectant dark eyes, was very likely to fight hard for what he wanted. She waited until she was inside the older woman’s office before handing Sami over. Jasim’s hand inadvertently brushed her arm and she was so aware of him that she was vaguely surprised not to see fingerprints left behind on her skin. Jasim clasped the little boy with care and held him out to examine, keenly scrutinising every inch of Sami’s fearless little face. There was a quality of bemusement and wonder in Jasim’s stern gaze that unsettled Elinor and made her feel very uncomfortable. Brown eyes sparkling, Sami smiled at Jasim and made no objection when Jasim brought him closer. His father’s confident handling made it clear that he was no stranger to young children.
‘He is the only boy born in my family for many years,’ Jasim said gravely. ‘It is a crime that we have been unable to celebrate his birth.’