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He turned to his communications director. ‘Send out a press release stating I’m back. My absence was caused by a moderate accident from which I’m still recovering. For now, I’m spending time with my wife and will return to the helm of my company in due course.’
The director cleared his throat. ‘The financial world will be desperate to know specifics, Mr Diamandis.’
Zeph sent him a tight smile. ‘That’s what I employ you to handle. Tell them my wife has been in charge and will continue to be so for now until further notice. Nothing more than that.’
After that, Imogen got a kick out of watching the Canadian brothers grovel when she threatened to walk away from the deal, then watching them almost beg when Zeph backed up that threat.
They celebrated when the deal was done and dusted the very next day.
But Imogen remained in a state of flux, swinging between stunned surprise at the sometimes disarming charm Zeph exuded and awe at his continued astuteness when they were inevitably pulled into business matters. Those times she completely understood why he was at the top of his game in the business world. And to do it while not recalling any of the actual intricacies of the dealing? Imogen silently shook her head in wonder after the fourth time he skilfully negotiated another tricky transaction.
And then there were those gut-clenching, heart-racing times when he looked at her quizzically, as if trying to work out what she was keeping from him. Trying to work outwhyshe was keeping it from him.
As for his amnesia, whether it was muscle memory or something else, small cracks were beginning to appear in the armour shrouding his memories.
Although infrequent, they were clustered in furtive bursts that the doctor said were not uncommon, projecting the possibility that his stagnant memory loss might be changing. For instance, last week Imogen had watched him dial his PA’s number without referring to his contact information. The same PA whose last name Zeph couldn’t remember.
To say that it kept Imogen on her toes was an understatement.
As for the sizzling attraction between them...
For whatever reason, Zeph had stopped pushing further after that morning in his stateroom. Imogen continually berated herself for the disappointed ache in her belly and the lustful need that kept her awake long after Zeph had fallen asleep beside her.
It wasn’t a huge stretch to get that it stemmed from those frequent head massages she gave him to ease his headaches, and the proximity of just sharing a bed with her husband that kept her craving on max.
She told herself it was a good thing they had only gone so far and then it too began to sound hollow.
As had become a frequent thing, she was alternately berating and convincing herself about the pros when she walked into the smallest living room on the yacht and stopped dead.
Zeph was sitting on the futon-like cushion, a fierce competitive gleam in his eyes and his focus rapier sharp. Beside him sat Nike, their youngest crew member, equally engrossed in the activity. And that activity was what made her jaw sag to the floor.
Her husband was playing a video game!
For a full minute, they remained oblivious to her presence, a child-like engrossment in their activity making her lips twitch.
But if she’d thought Zeph would remain oblivious for long, she was mistaken. Without glancing her way, he said, ‘Once again, I seem to have shocked you, wife.’
‘I...yes, I admit you have.’
Pausing the game, he glanced at the young steward and, heeding the silent command, the boy scrambled up and left the room.
Zephyr waved to the vacated seat and Immie found herself accepting the invitation. Still stunned, she ambled over the armchair and sank into it. Her shock grew when he held out the controller.
‘What? You want me to play with you?’
His head tilted fractionally and her breath caught, sensing that while he looked outwardly relaxed, that labyrinthine brain had gone into full calculus mode.
‘I do. But, unlike with young Nike, I wish to make ours more interesting.’
Oh, God.
She should refuse now, even before he spelled out what he meant. She was dealing with a master negotiator. One who’d brokered one of the world’s most complicated deals. Wall Street still spoke with the awe of the Diamandis-Avalon deal most called the deal of the century.
‘I’m not playing some sketchy version of video-game strip poker with you, if that’s what you’re angling for.’
His gaze heated, his smile devastating. ‘Why, what a dirty mind you have.’
Heat rushed into her face, and he gave a low laugh. ‘What do you have in mind, then?’
