Surrender to the Past

‘I said no.’

Irritation darkened his brow. ‘We are going to talk, Mia.’

‘Whether I like it or not?’

‘Yes.’

That was what Mia had thought! ‘Did my father send you?’

Ethan gave a hard smile. ‘No one “sends” me anywhere, Mia.’

‘Meaning you volunteered to come and talk to me, or that my father doesn’t even know you’re here?’ She eyed him sceptically.

‘Both.’ He was obviously not comfortable with the latter.

Mia eyed him warily. ‘If my father didn’t send you, then what possible reason could you have for being here, Ethan?’

‘I’ve already told you—because I want to talk to you,’ he muttered tersely.

‘And if I don’t want to talk to you?’

‘You appear to be doing so, whether you want to or not!’

Yes, she did. And Mia had no intention of continuing to do so. ‘I’m busy, Ethan.’ She stood up.

Ethan gave a glance around the cafе. It was designed to be as warm and cosy as someone’s sitting room, with comfortable armchairs grouped around low tables, and prints on the walls interspersed with plants trailing down from hooks fixed in the ceiling. The people sitting at those tables ranged in age from a mother and her young child—the latter obviously enjoying a hot chocolate with her cookie—several students from the university close by, who appeared to be working while they drank their coffee, to half a dozen or so older ladies, obviously meeting up for a chat in the late afternoon. Business, he noted abstractedly, was obviously thriving.

He turned back to look at the unmoving, grim-faced woman standing in the booth beside him. Mia had been twenty when Ethan had last seen her, with a prettily glowing face dominated by laughing green eyes, a nicely rounded body, and long straight hair the colour of ripe corn.

That softness was gone now. Her face was all hollows and angles, her body slim and toned—a fact only emphasised by the close-fitting black blouse and skin-tight black jeans. Her hair—that long and gloriously golden mane that had reached almost to her waist, and which Ethan clearly remembered falling softly, tantalisingly, across his bare flesh—was gone too. Although, he allowed grudgingly, the shorter, wispily feathered style certainly complemented the stark beauty of her face and emphasised the deep emerald colour of her eyes.

He gave a disbelieving shake of his head at the changes he saw in her. ‘What happened to you, Mia?’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘In what way?’

‘In every way!’ He scowled darkly. ‘You’re so changed in appearance that—’

‘My own father wouldn’t recognise me …?’ she finished dryly.

Ethan stilled. ‘I gather that was the point of the exercise?’

‘Of course.’

Ethan’s gaze raked over her critically. ‘William might not recognise you, but I do. With or without your clothes!’ he added.

Mia’s breath left her in a loud hiss. ‘That was uncalled-for!’

He gave a hard smile. ‘I take it you didn’t like my reference to the fact that we’ve been naked together?’

‘I want you to leave, Ethan.’ Her hands were clenched, her eyes glittering in warning. ‘Now!’

He looked down at her speculatively. ‘I never would have imagined you even working in a coffee shop, let alone owning one …’

‘And why is that?’ Mia bristled. ‘Did you imagine that the daughter of Kay Burton would be too frightened of breaking a nail if she actually worked?’

‘I never once confused you with your mother, Mia,’ he drawled softly.

Mia’s mother …

A beautiful and accomplished hostess. A social butterfly. Until the accident nine years ago that had not only robbed Kay of her beauty but the use of her legs …

Mia’s gaze fixed on Ethan. ‘If you don’t leave voluntarily in the next thirty seconds I’m going to call the police and have you forcibly removed!’

He looked at her in mock horror. ‘On what grounds?’

‘How about making a public nuisance of yourself? And I’m sure if I were to call the newspapers at least one of them would just love to come along and take pictures of Ethan Black being ejected from a coffee shop,’ she taunted.

His mouth tightened and his eyes drew into icy slits of grey. ‘Are you threatening me?’

‘Does it sound as if I am?’

‘Yes!’

‘Then I probably am,’ Mia confirmed.

‘You do realise that even if I agree to leave now I’ll only come back later?’

Oh, yes. Mia realised that … Having finally succeeded in finding her, she very much doubted that Ethan was now going to just walk away without saying exactly what he had come here to say …

It had been five years, for goodness’ sake. Five years during which—as Ethan had just pointed out so cuttingly—Mia had changed almost beyond recognition. And those changes weren’t just physical …

Five years ago she had been totally infatuated—in love with Ethan. An interest he had briefly—very briefly—seemed to reciprocate. That mutual interest had come to an abrupt end when Mia’s mother died suddenly and Mia became aware of the fragility upon which her world had been built. A world she had thought so bright with possibilities suddenly made bereft and uncertain …

‘Please yourself,’ she dismissed dryly.

‘I usually do.’

‘Why am I not surprised?’ Mia gave his own changed appearance another scathing glance. ‘Working for my father all these years has not only resulted in you looking and dressing like him, but also talking like he does too—as if you’re God Almighty!’

Ethan snorted his impatience. ‘Insult me all you wish, Mia, but let’s leave your father out of it.’

‘Fine with me. You have ten seconds of the thirty left, Ethan.’ Her expression remained unrelenting.

His mouth thinned, and he looked as if he would like to add more before nodding abruptly. ‘As I said, I’ll be back.’ It was more of a warning than a promise.

A warning Mia had no intention of heeding. ‘Obviously I’m not going to say it was good seeing you again.’

‘I remember a time when you couldn’t wait to see me.’ His hard eyes swept over her with slow deliberation. ‘All of me …’