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At the back of the room an assistant was waiting to direct him to the clerk to process the paperwork for the sale, but he too was as lost to Evelyn as Mateo had been. The young kid’s blush put Mateo firmly back in his place and by the time Evie had reached him, Mateo had regained control over his wayward body.
‘What was that?’ she demanded in a furious hiss.
‘That was me showing an interest in eighteenth-century pirate treasure.’
‘Don’t be absurd,’ Evelyn dismissed. ‘You have never once shown an interest in—’
‘Cara,’he said, interrupting her, ‘please know that when I show an interest in something my focus is absolutely, utterly and irrevocably fixed.’
She glared at him, and golden fury rained down on him like the bright embers of a children’s sparkler. Everywhere her gaze touched him burned bright but left no damage other than to his libido.
‘You are holding it hostage,’ she growled, and he was half surprised that she hadn’t stamped her foot.
‘The octant? Yes. I am,’ he replied and had to work to stop himself from smiling at her indignant outrage.
He took her arm, ignoring the sparks the physical contact sent up his skin to his chest and, turning them away from the curious glances, led her out of the auction room into the reception area.
‘I would have given you the notebook back,’ she said from between clenched teeth.
‘Would have?’
‘Well, I’m not going to now, am I?’
‘It’s sweet that you think you can stand toe to toe with me on this. Youwillgive it back to me,’ he warned, before turning to find the office where the clerk waited to process the paperwork.
Evie paced the reception room, waiting for Mateo to return. She told herself off for letting him get to her. It was the octant she needed, not the notebook. Of course, she should give it back to him, as she’d intended from the beginning. But Mateo’s high-handedness had riled her usual peaceful and happy equilibrium. And to think...she’d been actually hoping that he’d show up to the auction and see her in the dress!
And now everything that the Queen had wanted was at risk. Yes, Evie had hoped that she might be able to prove her and the Professor’s theories true, but more than that she had really wanted to give a daughter the chance to do something kind for her father.
Just then the devil walked back into the room and she hated that even through the angry red mist she could see how gorgeous he was. His hair was tousled as if he’d been running his hands through it, his eyes looked darker against the midnight colour of his tuxedo. At some point Mateo must have pulled his tie loose, as the ends hung down, stark against the white cotton shirt, making him look every inch the billionaire Lothario.
She bit her lip and dragged her gaze upwards, to discover that he had caught her staring. He raised his eyebrow as if to dare her to keep looking, but she couldn’t and turned away.
‘Are you coming?’ he asked her.
‘Where to?’ she asked hesitantly.
‘Somewhere we can talk privately.’
Gone was the surface civility from before, the good-natured, easy-going façade he had hidden behind. The tone of his voice and the taut lines holding his body stiff all spoke of the fact that the games were over. Even the slight undercurrent of flirtation that had simmered between them ever since the kiss was gone.
She nodded and followed him from the auction house. They didn’t speak a word to each other in the taxi that took them back to the hotel they were both staying in. She didn’t object as he led them through the exquisite foyer of the hotel, towards a bank of lifts that looked very different from the ones she used to get to her room.
She didn’t say a word as he gestured for her to enter the lift and swiped a card that permitted access to the penthouse. She barely registered that the doors opened directly into the suite that looked out over the river and the stunning nightscape of Shanghai as she tried to find a way through thoughts that circled between the octant, the Professor, Princess Isabella and Mateo and his father. And lost amongst all of them, buried deep in there, were thoughts about herself.
She placed her wrap over the arm of the sofa and turned to where Mateo watched her from the entrance of his suite. The wooden box containing the octant was tucked under his arm, possessively.
‘Can I see it?’ she asked tentatively.
He seemed to consider her request and for a moment she thought he might refuse it, but he slid the box onto the coffee table in front of the sofa.
‘Knock yourself out,’ he said before going to the wet bar and pouring himself a drink.
Evie rounded the sofa and, sitting, took a breath as she opened the box.
‘How much do you know about your father’s research?’ she asked as she took in the exquisite craftmanship of the octant up close. It really was a thing of beauty.
‘Assume I know ninety per cent and understand eighty per cent.’
