Playing the Billionaire's Game - Pippa Roscoe Page 0,62

she did want more, she deserved more. She needed and wanted to be an equal in their love.

What had he said about not being a Neanderthal? He could be attracted to her without acting on it. Well, she could love him without being cowed by it or him. But, even as she thought it, she knew that didn’t feel right for Sebastian. He would never have sought to dominate her. But the painting would have always been there. Hanging over both of them. An unanswered question, the only one she had never asked.

The other way she had spent those two days was to think about what he had said about her. That she had been scared to embrace her desires, her wants. With a long, hard internal look, she’d been forced to admit that he was right. She’d spent so long, too long, being thankful for things she shouldn’t have been thankful for. The job at Bonnaire’s, where they had treated her with little more than grim-faced tolerance. The obscenely expensive one-bed flat in Archway that was, in reality, hideous and oppressive, just so she could commute to work. The two things combining to ensure that she had absolutely no money or time to do anything else.

On the off-chance that Bonnaire’s actually still wanted to keep her on, did she want to stay? Time and time again over the last forty-eight hours her mind had wandered to her uni things. The sketchpad full of drawings and plans, designs for paintings she’d never completed. She shook her head. Crazy thinking. As if she wasn’t already in enough debt. But, rather than giving up on that thought, Sia had tested out a few options. Maybe going part-time? Maybe an internship or finding studio space she could share? Certainly moving out of the flat would be the first move. She didn’t have to give everything up in one go. She could dip her toes in first.

The alarm finally went off beside her and she forced herself into the shower to wash away the exhaustion and heat from her overactive mind.

Half an hour later, dressed not in her usual office clothes but one of the summery creations Sebastian had given her, she was ready. It was a dress that she felt not only comfortable in but also a little glamorous and it was perfect for the gentle heat of London in July.

She grabbed her purse and stepped out into the street and almost smack bang into a man in a grey suit and carrying a black briefcase.

‘Can I help you?’ Sia asked over her shoulder as she turned back to lock the door. ‘It’s just that I’m running a little late...’

‘Sia Keating?’

‘Yes?’ she replied.

‘Can I see some ID?’

‘Really? Can I see yours?’ she asked, offended for a reason she couldn’t quite name.

‘Of course,’ the man—Mike Newton—said amiably, showing his work ID.

After they had exchanged identification, he left her with the briefcase, ‘With the Duke’s regards.’

She stood in the doorway wearing a pretty summer dress, holding her purse and a black leather briefcase that seemed more than a little incongruous—especially considering the fireworks it set off in her stomach. Her hands shook as she lifted the briefcase in both hands to inspect it.

It couldn’t be, could it? Her knees threatened to give way. Not because of the exorbitant value of what she thought the briefcase might contain. Not because of what she might do with it if it was what she thought it was. But because of what it meant for Sebastian to have given it to her. Her heart trembled as she caught sight of the car Bonnaire’s had sent for her pulling up in front of her.

Sia was shown into one of the glass-fronted meeting rooms on the fifth floor. Two men sat on one side of the table, one on the large side, balding and slightly sweaty, and the other stick-thin, tall and with a rather abundant head of dark auburn hair.

Her mind had been a whirlwind the entire journey here and it wasn’t until that moment that she realised that Bonnaire’s had summoned her to the equivalent of an interrogation. On a good day there might have been something farcical about the two ‘heavies’ who had been sent to interview her about the painting. But Sia suddenly saw what this could have been like only weeks ago.

A junior member of staff pulled into an interview, two weeks into a suspension from a job she needed to pay bills, to pay debts,