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The good news was he had more leverage now than he could ever have dreamt of. And he was damn well going to use it. To show her that no one kicked him around—not any more.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IT TOOK XANTHE twenty minutes to realise she could not hide in the bathroom for the rest of her natural life.
She’d faced a hostile board for five years and her father’s stern disapproval for a great deal longer. She could deal with one hot as hell boat designer.
But even so she jumped when a knock sounded on the door.
‘You still in there or have you disappeared down the drain?’
The caustic tone was almost as galling as the flush that worked its way up her torso at the low rumble of his voice.
‘I’ll be out in a minute.’
‘A package got delivered for you.’
Her clothes.
Hallelujah.
She reached for the bolt on the door, then paused.
‘Could you leave it there?’
With the hotel’s satin robe somewhere on the floor of the suite and his T-shirt neatly folded to give back to him on the vanity unit, all she had to cover her nakedness was a towel.
‘Why don’t you order us some breakfast?’ she added, trying to sound unconcerned. Because clearly he was not going to do the decent thing and just leave her in peace.
‘You want the package—you’re gonna have to come out and get it.’
Blast the man.
Grasping the towel tight over her breasts, she flicked back the bolt and opened the door. She shoved the T-shirt at him, far too aware of his spectacular abs peeping out from behind his unbuttoned shirt.
He took it, but lifted the package out of reach when she tried to grab it. ‘Not so fast.’
‘Give me the package,’ she demanded, using her best don’t-mess-with-me voice—the one that had always worked so well in board meetings but seemed to be having no impact at all on the man in front of her. ‘It has my clothes in it. If you still want to talk we can talk, but I refuse to discuss anything with you naked.’
Because look how well that had turned out the last time she’d done it.
He kept the package aloft. ‘If I give you this, I want a promise that you’ll come out of there.’
She frowned at him, noticing the bite in his tone. Something was off. Something was way off—the muscle in his jaw was working overtime to keep that impassive look on his face.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Not a thing,?
? he said, his jaw as hard as granite. ‘Except that you’ve been sulking for a good half hour.’
She hadn’t been sulking. She’d been considering her options—very carefully. But she was finished with being a coward now. Better to face him and get whatever he had to discuss over with. Because standing in a towel with that big male body inches away was not helping.
She reached out for the package. ‘Deal.’
He slapped it into her palm.
Whipping back into the bathroom, she locked the door and leaned against it. Something was most definitely wrong. Where had the wry amusement gone? That searing look he’d given her had been as hard as it was hot.
