The Millionaire's Royal Rescue
Footsteps sounded in the hallway. He glanced up hoping to find Annabelle returning so that they could smooth things over—so they could resume the easy friendship that they’d developed. But it wasn’t her. It was Mr. Drago, one of the king’s men.
“Can I help you, sir?” The man was always so formal.
“Uh, no.” Grayson returned the paper to the table. “I was just going to look for Annabelle.”
“I believe I saw her go out to the patio.”
“Thank you.” Grayson walked away.
Part of him told him to leave things alone. It was best that they didn’t reconnect. After all, it wasn’t like he was ready for anything serious. He didn’t know if he ever would be. He’d already failed so miserably.
And since that deadly car accident, he’d cut himself off from everything outside his board of directors, and his assistant. He’d forgotten how much he’d enjoyed laughing with someone and just sharing a casual conversation.
Annabelle had given that back to him and he wasn’t ready to give it up. He wasn’t ready to give her up. Not yet.
What was he supposed to do now? He just couldn’t leave things like this. And then he thought of the cryptic note. He hadn’t had a chance to tell her his suspicion about it. Maybe that could get them ba
ck on friendly terms.
He picked up his pace.
* * *
Insulting.
Insufferable.
Annoying.
Annabelle muttered under her breath as she strode down the hallway with no actual destination in mind. She just needed some space—make that a lot of space—between her and Grayson before she said something she might regret. How dare he accuse her?
Like she would do anything to help the media. What did he take her for? A fool? Or was he just another man who thought she wasn’t savvy enough to take care of herself and watch what she said to the press?
Her back teeth ground together as she choked back her exasperation. What was it with the men in her life? She found herself headed for the patio. It was her place of solace, well, actually the beach was. The sea called to her. She stared out at the peaceful waters as the sunshine danced over the gentle swells.
She longed to go for a walk and let the water gently wash over her feet. It was so therapeutic. The more she thought about it, the more tempted she became. After all, she didn’t have anything else that needed her attention. Why not go for a walk on the beach?
Without any more debate, she set off down the steps. The warm breeze rushed through her hair, brushing it back over her shoulders. Later, she might go for a dip. It’d been a long time since she’d gone swimming, too long in fact.
She slipped off her shoes and walked to the water’s edge. She enjoyed the feel of the sun-warmed sand on her feet and then the coolness of the water as it washed over them.
“Annabelle!” The all-too-familiar voice called out to her.
Grayson.
She groaned inwardly. She wasn’t ready to deal with him. Not yet.
She started walking like she hadn’t heard him. Maybe he’d get the hint and leave her in peace, but something told her that man hadn’t gotten to the position of head of his own multinational company by letting people brush him off.
“Annabelle, wait up!”
He definitely wasn’t going to relent. She stopped and turned, pausing for him to catch up. What did he want now?
He jogged up to her. “Mind if I walk with you?”
“Suit yourself.”
They walked for a few minutes in silence. Surprisingly it was a comfortable silence. Maybe she’d overreacted too. It just hurt when Grayson thought she’d betrayed his trust. When had he come to mean so much to her?