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He had done this for me. He had done this for me.
He believed in me in a way no one else had done since my mother died.
Not even my dad.
I turned suddenly and met his fierce gaze.
‘Is it all right?’ His stare flicked over my tears and for the first time I saw hints of uncertainty in his expression. ‘Ellie, if this isn’t right—’
‘No, it’s perfect,’ I interrupted hoarsely. ‘This is just what I wanted.’
He frowned, his hand coming up as if to wipe away the tears on my cheeks before checking himself. ‘You’re crying, though.’
‘I know. Because I can’t believe someone would do this for me. I can’t believe you think it’s worth putting the time and money into.’
Blue sparks leapt in his gaze. ‘Of course it is. I told your father I was going to be investing in your idea and if he knew what was good for him and his company, he would, too.’
My throat squeezed tight. ‘He thinks it’s no good.’
‘Who cares what he thinks?’ There was ferocity in his voice. ‘It’s what you think that matters. And this is important to you, I know it is. Anyway, he did help me put together your team, so I suspect he might have at least heard what I was saying.’ Ash stopped, looking at me. ‘I’m not trying to muscle in on your territory, Ellie. You understand that, don’t you? You’re the one who has to build it. I’m just providing you with the tools you need.’
I did know that. I knew exactly what he was trying to do. What he’d done ever since I’d met him: giving me a challenge and daring me to rise to it; daring me not to be afraid
of what other people might think.
And just like that I felt something hot pulse through me. An acknowledgement of something I’d been too afraid to examine closely. Because I’d been afraid for a long time.
Afraid of my own feelings and the power of them. The strength of them that Dad had never been able to deal with. Not when I’d been a small girl grieving my mother and not as an adult, when I’d been hurt by a man who’d had no right to hurt me.
He didn’t know what to do with my grief or my excitement or my anger.
He didn’t know what to do with my love.
So I’d put all those feelings away in a cage and locked the door, pretended everything was fine.
But Ash had broken that cage wide open and I realised that I couldn’t deny it any more.
This was a big deal. He was a big deal.
He would never be a comfortable, easy-going, laid-back man. But that wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted fierce and hot. I wanted the burn, the speed. I wanted his merciless brand of angry protectiveness and his passionate, rough caring. And the moments of tenderness he showed in the gentle, light way he touched me.
I wanted him to be exactly as he was.
Because I’d fallen in love with him.
‘What?’ he demanded, intensity burning off him. ‘If you don’t like it—’
‘I love it, Ash.’ I stepped towards him, my heart full and aching in my chest, fear in my veins, but I was in the driver’s seat now and I was speeding along the track. There would be no stopping me. I was surrendering to the momentum. ‘And I think I love you, too.’
His expression froze and something bright burned in his eyes. So bright that for a second I could hardly look at him.
Then it went dark, his expression shuttering like a door to a furnace closing, cutting off all light and heat.
‘No.’ The chill in his voice was absolute. ‘No. That’s ridiculous. You can’t.’
Perversely, his coldness only made the fire burn brighter inside me, an anger that I’d been keeping inside for far too long. ‘Why can’t I?’ I demanded. ‘Give me one good reason.’
‘Christ, haven’t I given you enough reasons?’ He drew himself up, as if he were bracing himself, the lines of his face becoming set and hard. ‘I told you I wasn’t going to give you anything more. That this affair was only for a few days.’
