The Pregnant Tycoon

‘I was beginning to think you weren’t serious about getting back in touch with us—or were you just making me cool my heels so I know my place?’ the familiar voice said laughingly, and Izzy felt her mouth kick up in a smile.

‘And hello yourself,’ she said, settling down in her chair with her feet propped on the edge of her desk, crossed at the ankles. A smile played at the corners of her mouth. She picked a little bit of fluff off her trousers and smoothed the fabric absently. ‘I’m sorry, I really was in a meeting, and I’d said no calls. I didn’t realise I’d given you my office number.’

‘You didn’t, but I didn’t want to leave it too late, so I got my secretary to do a bit of sleuthing. How are you?’

‘I’m fine. Great. How are you? And Emma? Three kids now! I’m impressed.’

He laughed. ‘Don’t be. They were the easy bit. We’re all fine—really good, but nothing like as spectacular as you! Talk about a meteoric rise in the world.’

Izzy shrugged, then realised he couldn’t see her. ‘It’s only money,’ she said dismissively, realising that it was true. What was her success when measured against Rob and Emma’s happiness and the birth of their three children? She swallowed a lump of what had to be self-pity, and put her feet back on the floor.

‘Look, Rob, I really am rather tied up this morning, but I’d love to see you all. Is there any way we can meet up?’

‘Actually, that’s why I’m phoning you. Emma and I are having a party to celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary and our thirtieth birthdays, and we want you to come. The trouble is, it’s tomorrow night. Not very much notice, I’m afraid, and I expect you’re so busy you won’t be able to make it, but loads of us will be there and it would be really great to see you.’

Something big and awkward was swelling in her chest, making it hard for her to breathe, and there was a silly smile plastered to her face that she couldn’t seem to shift.

‘That would be fantastic. Of course I’ll come—I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ll hand you back to my secretary and you can give her all the details, and I’ll see you on Friday. Thanks, Rob.’

She spoke briefly to Kate and asked her to get all the relevant information from Rob and book her a hotel room nearby, and then, ruthlessly suppressing a twinge of guilt, she also asked her to contact Steve and cancel the dinner engagement he’d talked her into at her party. Then, forcing herself to concentrate, she went back into the meeting and smiled brightly at the assembled company.

‘Sorry about that, everybody. Now, where were we?’

Izzy was a mass of nerves. It was quite ridiculous. She did very much more scary things than this every day of her life, and yet, for some reason, this whole event had taken on the most enormous significance.

Because of Will? What if he was there? And Julia? Oh, Lord.

She checked the address and eyed the house warily, reluctant to go in there yet. Twelve years was a long time, and a lot had happened. Too much? They always said you should never go back, but maybe it was time. Maybe this was just what she needed to get closure.

She checked her appearance one last time in the little rearview mirror of her car, and then with a mental shrug she abandoned any further prevarication, got out of the car and strode purposefully towards the open front door, the flowers she’d brought clutched just a little tightly in her hand.

As she drew nearer she could hear the sounds of a party in full swing—loud voices, shouts of laughter, the insistent rhythm of music that invaded her blood. It would be pointless to ring the doorbell, she realised, and so, her heart pounding in time to the beat, she walked down the hall and through the open door at the end, a smile plastered to her face.

For a moment no one noticed her, then a sudden silence fell, and everyone seemed to turn towards her. Her smile was slipping, brittle, and she stared at the room full of strangers and wondered what on earth she was doing there.

Then a man detached himself from the crowd, shorter than she remembered, his body more solid, his hair thinner, but the sparkling green eyes and the smile that encompassed the world were just the same, and he strode towards her, arms outstretched.

‘Izzy!’

‘Rob,’ she said with relief, and went into his arms with a sense of homecoming that took her by surprise.

He released her, holding her at arm’s length and studying her, then dragging her back into his arms for another bear hug. ‘Emma!’ he called. ‘Look who it is!’

Emma hadn’t changed at all. She was still the friendly, lovely girl she’d always been, and she hugged Izzy, took the flowers with an exclamation of delight and dragged her off to meet all the others.

Well, most of them. There was no sign of Will, and Izzy suppressed the strange sense of disappointment that prickled at her. She’d had no reason to suppose he would be there, so it was ludicrous to feel so bereft at his absence.

Anyway, if he’d been there, Julia would have been, as well, and she wasn’t sure that she was ready to meet her again, even all those years later.

And then there was another sudden silence, and her eyes were drawn to the doorway.

A man filled it, his dark hair untidy and rumpled as if he’d just combed it with his fingers, although they were now rammed firmly in his pockets. He looked awkward and uncomfortable, ready for flight, but before he had the chance to make his escape the spell broke and the crowd surged round him, wrapping him in a welcome as warm as it was inescapable.

And then he looked up across the crowded room and met her eyes, and her heart jammed in her throat.

Dear God, after all these years. He hasn’t changed, she thought, then shook her head slowly. No, he has changed, but he’s still—Will. My Will.

No.

Yes!

Stop it. Never mind that. Look at him. Look at the changes. He’s bigger—taller, heavier, older. His eyes look tired. Beautiful, still staggeringly beautiful, but tired.

Why so tired?

She wanted to cry, to laugh, to hug him—and because she could do none of them, she retreated, through a door she found conveniently placed behind her, and fled into the sanctuary of another hallway.

She needed time—time to think. Time to get her ducks in a row and her heart back under control before she said or did something stupid.

Oh, Lord. Will…

CHAPTER TWO

WILL was stunned. He wouldn’t have imagined in a million years that Izzy would be here. Of all the places, all the ways he’d imagined meeting her again, this hadn’t even been on the list. Somebody was pressing a drink into his hand, somebody else was slapping him on the back, saying how good it was to see him again, but all he could think about was Izzy.

His Izzy.

No. Not now. Not any more. Not for years—not since he’d betrayed her trust—

Hell, why hadn’t Rob warned him? Would he still have come?

Fool. Of course he would have come. Wild horses wouldn’t have kept him away. He needed to speak to her, but first he had to greet all these people who were so pleased to see him—good people who’d supported them through the nightmare of the last few years. So he smiled and laughed and made what he hoped were sensible remarks, and when he looked up again, she was gone.

Inexplicably, panic filled him. ‘Excuse me,’ he muttered, and, squeezing his way through the crowd, he went through the doorway at the back of the room that led out to the side hall. It had been the door nearest to her, and the most likely one for her to have used to make her escape, but he couldn’t let her go until he’d spoken to her. He was suddenly afraid that she would have slipped out and gone away, that he wouldn’t have a chance to speak to her, and he had to speak to her.

There was so much to say—

She hadn’t gone anywhere. She was standing in the side hall looking lost, absently shredding a leaf on the plant beside her, her fabled composure scattered to the four winds. The powerful, dynamic woman of the glossy society magazines was nowhere to be seen, and in her face was an extraordinary and humbling vulnerability. His panic evaporated.

‘Hello, Izzy,’ he said softly. ‘Long time no see.’

Her smile wavered and then firmed with a visible effort. ‘Hello, Will,’ she replied, and her voice was just as warm and mellow and gentle as he’d remembered. ‘How are you?’

‘Oh, you know,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘Still farming.’ He ran his eyes over her elegant and sophisticated evening trousers and pretty little spangled top, and his gut tightened. ‘You’re looking as beautiful as ever—not the least bit like an assassin.’

‘Still the old sweet talker, then,’ she murmured, her lips kicking up in a smile that nearly took his legs out from under him. ‘Anyway, I’m surprised you remember. It’s been a long time—twelve years.’

‘Eleven since I saw you last—but I’ve got the newspapers and the glossies to remind me, lest I should forget,’ he told her, trying to keep his voice light and his hands to himself.