Auckland was a pinprick on a global scale and I knew it would be all but impossible to attend a business function of this type and not run into someone I knew. If it happened, my hope was that it wouldn’t be someone who had taken any interest in me once I’d left for Australia. When we arrived I’d been nervous, sneaking glances around the room but seeing nobody I knew, I’d begun to relax and enjoy myself.

Until Deidre.

Of all people, it had to be Deidre—the very last person whose world I wanted to be the center of.

I spun in my chair and tried to stand in the hope that if we had to talk I could carefully steer her away from our table. Unfortunately, Oliver turned too and when I glanced at him I could see he was waiting for an introduction.

I stood.

Oliver stood.

Shit.

I introduced them, then body-blocked Oliver and set about maneuvering Deidre across the room.

“I’m so sorry to hear about your awful bad luck in Australia, Darcy. Losing a position like that at Prism must have been heartbreaking.”

What a liar. The sympathy was so fake I was surprised a thunderbolt hadn’t struck her where she stood in that stunning dress with perfect accessories and killer shoes. I would have been envious had I not for once been better attired myself. When it came to Deidre, my playground anxieties always rose to the forefront.

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad.” I flicked my hand dismissively.

“Really? Because I heard Rob—”

I grabbed her elbow in a way that would encourage her to start walking or suffer a dislocated shoulder. “Whatever you heard about me, Deidre, will contain as much truth as what I heard about you. Now, it’s just a matter of who tells their story first.”

My bluff was a winning call because she blanched, turned her back on me and headed for an empty seat three tables away.

For a moment I wondered what Deidre had been up to before I returned to Oliver, hoping that would be my only encounter with my previous life. Unfortunately, the look on Oliver’s face suggested none of that exchange had slipped by him.

“Is everything okay, Darcy?” His voice was measured.

“Sure,” I said, desperate to grab a sip of wine but fully aware of how that would appear.

“Tell me what your friend alluded to that got you so rattled.”

I wasn’t going to lie. I liked Oliver too much for that, and liked what we had going together even more. Dangerously more. I took that sip of wine as I gathered my wits, trying to work out how much information to give him.

I placed my glass down, twirling it by the stem. “It wasn’t what she alluded to that rattled me, more the fact that she’s the most gossipy bitch in town and I’m not setting myself up to be the hot topic in a Viaduct bar tonight. Add to that, her closest friend writes what could loosely be called the society column for a certain trashy Sunday paper. Neither of them let the truth get in the way of their work.”

“Fine, and what was she alluding to?”

I took another sip of wine. “She must have heard about the fire when I lived in Sydney, with my ex-boyfriend. The house we were renting caught fire and it was razed; everything gone. He’d told me he had paid the insurance, but he hadn’t. So, I lost everything, including our relationship which didn’t survive the aftermath.”

Oliver shook his head. “That’s fucking horrendous. I’m sorry, that must have been devastating.”

I shrugged. “It’s only possessions, but it’s taking a bit to get back on my feet. I’ll be fine.” I wouldn’t be fine. The landlord’s insurance company was about to sue me for the cost of rebuilding the house. I’d probably be bankrupt before I was fine. More shame for me. Thank you, Rob.

“Deidre would be a supreme bitch if she intended to gossip about your misfortune.”

The intensity of the concern in his gaze unnerved me because I didn’t deserve it. There was so much about me he didn’t know and above all else, I didn’t want to hurt him. I should have kept our relationship professional from the start, but his allure held me like a hungry addict. I promised myself just one more inhale, one more lick, one more taste of him, and then I’d let him go.

I could have hugged the guy who was our waiter for the evening for turning up with our meals right while I was chasing down an appropriate response within the myriad of knee-jerk and brush-off ideas pounding through my head. I hated lying, whether intentionally misleading, or by omission. I’d lived on the receiving end of that for too long. Oliver deserved my honesty but already I was leaving stuff out and loathing myself for it.

I struggled to eat. Like at most large events the meal suffered from mass production and although the menu appeared appetizing, the result was tired and dry. I poked the food around my plate, unable to shake off my anxiety. The room was too full and I was still sneaking glances at the other tables, recognizing people but so far, nobody more alarming than Deidre.

Oliver leaned over to whisper in my ear that we could forget the food and get a meal later, taking the opportunity to tongue that sweet spot right behind my lobe and send a shiver through me.

He noticed my shiver. “If you’re cold I have a few ideas on how I can warm you.”

“I’m freezing, do it now,” I told him, lightly raking the nails of the hand I’d sneaked beneath the table, along the broad muscle of his thigh.

Oliver snatched my wrist, trapping my hand between his legs. “You’re killing me, Darcy, and you’ll pay for it.”

“I hope so.” Forget dinner, I was ready for bed.

The Minister for Trade and Enterprise took the stage and the award ceremony began. Tech companies seemed to dominate the first few categories and I wondered how a company like Oliver’s would compete but was thrilled when he won Exporter of the Year. He looked magnificent in his tuxedo as he stood on the stage to accept his award. His speech was typical Oliver, smooth and confident. When he returned to his seat he pulled me in for a kiss.

“Not bad for a guy who builds big dinghies,” I teased.

“Oh, you are in so much trouble,” he replied, tweaking my hair.

His was the last award for the night before the supreme winner would be announced from among all the category winners.

Tradewind Super Yachts won again and as we all stood to applaud. Oliver enveloped me in his arms and gave me a kiss that had others at our table cheering. I returned to my seat with flushed cheeks and bursting with pride. Oliver wasn’t one to brag and although I understood he had a very successful company, from what I’d learned this evening he won contracts over other companies around the world that were many times the size of his, and supported heavily by their own governments. His yachts, too, were winners in excellence of build and quality, and the yard’s turnover and ability to bring in export dollars was tremendous not only for Waitapu, but for New Zealand.

Somebody delivered champagne to the table and Oliver was accosted by a throng of people wanting to congratulate him and interview him. It looked as though it would be a longer night than we’d anticipated.

He pulled me with him to go through for interviews and held me close as we were photographed. I knew most of the press photographers, and was neither pleased nor surprised to see Deidre’s gossip-column friend, Monica, and her sidekick photographer among them. I pushed aside the chill that trickled along my spine. It was completely expected for them to be at events like this and I could only hope that Deidre wouldn’t add any heat to whatever story they chose to run.

It was after one in the morning by the time we got out of there. During the short cab ride back I was still buzzing and I rambled excitedly about the way Oliver could maximize the awards, what it could do for his business, and Waitapu, if he wanted to dive into some strategies. All the way he played with my hair and the strap of my dress. As the car pulled up to the apartment building he nuzzled my neck and told me in the filthiest language possible what he wanted to do to me the moment the door was closed.

But when the door closed the thing that had bothered me at the start of the evening launched itself into the forefront of my mind. Something I’d said before we’d left for the function had made him uptight, offhand, unbalanced. Everything I’d pulled together when I’d landed back in New Zealand gave me courage to speak up because if there was one thing I’d learned it was that leaving an itch unscratched created a huge fucking welt that would fester until lanced. Better to scratch the irritation right off.

Inside the door Oliver shoved his awards on a table that held a stunning sculpture, turning quickly to capture me.

I held up a hand to stop him as he leaned in for a kiss. “Wait.”

Oliver stepped back.

“Before we left here you were annoyed with me. What was that?” I watched his face trying to read what he might attempt to hide.

He shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t recall.”

He did recall, I could tell by the tension around his eyes. “It seemed I either did something that troubled you, or said something.”

Oliver passed me and went to the liquor cabinet pulling out a bottle of scotch. He held it up. “Nightcap?”

Jesus.

I was not going to be blown off. Oliver had one chance. If he continued to stray along this road of avoidance, I was ending whatever it was we’d started, immediately, because I had no intention of repeating behaviors of a past relationship.

I sighed and followed him into the living room.

“A drink, sure, why not,” I said. My question hung between us and I sensed he hoped that during the time it took him to pour drinks, my need for an answer would evaporate along with the strain between us.

I was wrong.