Page 17

Eight years.
The photograph hadn’t lied. She’d grown from a pretty girl into a stunning, self-assured woman. She wore a tailored black jacket over a copper-colored blouse with a matching slim black skirt that ended just above her knees. On her feet were black shoes with modest two-inch heels. She’d pulled her hair back into a low bun and conservative gold hoops adorned her ears.
The college girl with curly hair and oversized sweaters had transformed into a sophisticated corporate executive.
Nathalie froze, her outstretched hand halting midway. Shock and recognition paled her face. She rocked back slightly on her heels as if buffeted by a strong breeze. “Ryder?”
He tensed, ready to leap forward and catch her if she crumpled even as part of him took grim satisfaction in her response.
She shot the receptionist a questioning look before returning her gaze to meet his. “Someone from Dìleas Security Agency is supposed to be meeting with me.”
“Hello, Nathalie. That would be me.” He kept his voice level, ruthlessly tamping down his own reaction from the shock of seeing her again. “Penny Turner should have emailed you my credentials.”
Five minutes ago.
She regained her composure quickly, impressing him. “Let’s go to my office. Angie, I don’t want to be interrupted.” Her last comment she directed to the receptionist before twisting on her heels and marching back down the hall, leaving him to follow or get left behind.
Her back to him, he allowed his lips to twist into a bitter smile.
That, at least, hadn’t changed.
Nathalie headed to her office, her former lover trailing silently like a panther at her back.
A tall, gorgeous panther with chestnut hair and striking blue eyes.
Her stomach was in knots and her knees trembled so badly she was afraid they’d give out and dump her in an embarrassing heap onto the carpeted hall floor.
Ryder.
Was this some kind of cruel joke? What was he doing here?
What in the world had happened in the years since she left England?
The beautiful boy she fell in love with had become a devastatingly handsome man with hard edges that weren’t there before. He’d packed muscle onto his six-foot-two frame, his broad shoulders and chest evident beneath the expertly tailored dark navy suit coat and white dress shirt. His face had matured as well, into a firm jaw and chiseled features.
No wonder she had a hard time watching any movie starring Henry Cavill. He reminded her of an older, more mature version of the boy she’d known at Oxford. Now the two looked even more similar.
And those eyes, a deep electric blue of evening primrose that used to gaze at her with adoration, had regarded her without emotion when he turned to face her, whatever was going on in his head locked away behind a stoic expression. He’d always been reserved, but now he looked…
Cold.
Distant.
The last living, breathing reminder of everything she’d given up to get where she was today.
A sharp pain lanced her chest. It had taken Oscar-worthy acting skills to not crumple from the shock of seeing him after all these years.
Especially with the way they’d parted.
They reached the corner office she’d inherited from her father. It had taken her four months before she could own it as her space. Large windows covered two of the four walls, letting in lots of natural light, which she loved. Her mother’s watercolor of the historic Rainbow Row homes in Charleston, South Carolina, hung on the interior wall near the round table and chairs in the corner. Framed family photos littered the credenza behind her desk.
The décor hadn’t changed since her dad’s death. She hadn’t felt the need to change it.
Most of her time was spent locked in the computer lab with Ravi Chaudhary, her senior software engineer. Don Lambert, Williams’s Vice President, handled most of the day-to-day company operations. He was far better equipped to run the company than she was.
But her father had insisted it be her.
“Please. Have a seat.” She gestured to the chair on the opposite side of her executive desk rather than to the table in the corner, where she normally sat with visitors. The desk provided a barrier for her to establish authority and physical distance from Ryder until she understood what was going on. “It’s, ah, nice to see you again.”