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“And a new name.”
“Yes.” She eyed him warily. “I needed distance.”
“That’s not the way I remember it.” She’d chosen her father over him, even after the old man had stolen from him. It wasn’t a slight Marc had any intention of forgetting.
“No surprise there.”
The insult—in her words and her tone—had him narrowing his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it sounded like. I’m not big on subterfuge.”
Though it made him sound like an arrogant ass, he couldn’t help throwing her words back at her. “Again, that’s not the way I remember it.”
“Of course not.” She straightened her spine and lifted her chin. “Then again, you’ve always been more about perception than truth. Right, Marc?”
He hadn’t thought it was possible for him to get any angrier. Not when his stomach already churned with it, his jaw aching from how tightly he was clenching his teeth. Then again, she’d always brought out strong emotions in him. At one time, they’d even been good emotions.
Those days were long gone, though, and he wouldn’t let her drag him back there. The Marc who had loved Isa Varin had been a weak fool—something he’d sworn he’d never be again as he’d watched security escort her from his building.
“That seems an awful lot like the pot calling the kettle black, Isabella.” He put added emphasis on her new name, could see by the darkening of her eyes that the irony wasn’t lost on her.
“On that note, I think it’s time for me to leave.” She started to step around him, but he blocked her path. He didn’t know what was driving him, only that he wasn’t ready to watch her walk away from him again. Not when she looked so cool and collected and he felt...anything but. And not now that he’d finally found her.
“Running away?” he taunted. “Why am I not surprised? It does run in the family, after all.”
For a second, hurt flashed in her eyes. But it was gone so fast he couldn’t be sure he hadn’t imagined it. And still, a little seed of guilt lingered. At least until she said, “Whatever you’re doing here, whatever you think you’re going to get, isn’t going to happen. You need to get out of my way, Marc.”
It was an ultimatum, for all that it was said in a polite tone. He’d never been one to respond well to such things. Still, her fire excited him, turned him on, as nothing had in six long years. His reaction pissed him off, but he’d be damned before he let her see that. Not when she was there, in front of him, when he’d been so certain he would never see her again. He wasn’t ready to let her walk out of his life for another six years, not when he still had so many unanswered questions. And not when he still wanted her so badly that every muscle in his body ached with it.
So instead of doing what she asked, he lifted a brow and leaned casually against the cool, tile wall behind him. Then asked the question he knew would change everything. “Or what?”
Two
Isa stared at Marc in disbelief. Had he seriously just asked her that? As if they were kids playing a game of double dog dare and it was now her turn to up the ante? Too bad for him that she’d given up childish games the same night she’d walked forty city blocks through sleet and freezing rain without so much as a coat to shield her from the weather. She’d moved past that night, had made a new, better life for herself here under a name no one in the industry could trace to her father. There was no way she would let him mess all that up.
“I don’t have time for this,” she told him with an annoyed snarl. “And while I’d like to say it was nice seeing you again, we both know that I’d be lying. So—” she gave him a mock salute “—have a nice life.”
Turning on her heel, she once again started down the empty hallway. This time she only made it a couple of steps before he wrapped one large, calloused hand around her wrist and tugged her to a stop.
“You don’t actually think it’s going to be that easy, do you?”
His rough fingers stroked the delicate skin at the inside of her wrist. It was a familiar caress, one he’d done so often in their months together that she’d felt his phantom stroking in that exact spot for months—years—after they’d broken up. Even now, with everything that had passed between them, with the power he held to ruin her life all over again, her traitorous heart beat uncontrollably fast at the light touch.
Furious with herself for being so easy—and at him for being so damn appealing—she yanked her arm from his grasp with more force than his gentle hold demanded. She ended up stumbling back a couple steps before she could catch herself, a reaction that just annoyed her more. Why was she constantly making a fool of herself in front of this man?
Infusing her voice with as much frigidness as she could muster, she forced herself to meet his gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Those glorious eyes of his mocked her. “Still a good liar, I see.” He reached out and ran a hand over her braid. “Nice to see some things haven’t changed.”
“I never lied to you.”
“But you didn’t tell me the truth, either. Even when doing so would have saved my company and me one hell of a lot of time, money and embarrassment.”
Old guilt swamped her at his words. She tried to push it away, but it was too constant a companion for her to do anything more than invite it in like she always did. Still, she refused to take all the blame in this situation. Not when the tender man she used to know had vanished like so much
smoke. “Yes, well, you seemed to have landed on your feet.”
“As have you.” He very deliberately glanced into the classroom she had just vacated. “A professor at the GIA, one of the world’s leading experts on conflict-free diamonds. I have to admit, when you disappeared so completely, I thought you’d decided to follow in your father’s footsteps.”
