Page 29 of The Tycoon's Ultimate Conquest
‘Well, I must say, it would be fantastic for the community as a whole. Naturally, I still stand by my guns when I say that I hate big developers who think they can descend and gobble up whatever slice of land they want, but it’s fair to say that not many would go the extra mile to appease disgruntled locals.’
* * *
Art didn’t say anything. He’d slept with her and done a hundred small things with her that he’d never done with anyone else. That, in itself, was unsettling and he latched onto that sentiment with some relief because it made him realise that he was clearing off in the nick of time. Sharing cosy suppers and painting bedrooms wasn’t in his genetic make-up and never would be! He wasn’t cut out for anything like that and had he stayed on he knew that the inevitable boredom with her would have set in.
She invigorated himat this moment in time, but it wouldn’t have lasted.
He would have become restless, got itchy feet. It never failed to happen.
Which waswhy, he thought with conviction, it was imperative he left. Rose, underneath the tough veneer, had risen above the odds dealt to her in her background and turned out to be endearingly romantic. Were he to stay on, there was a chance that she would have fallen for him.
And then what?A broken heart when he vanished? A life in need of being rebuilt? Looking at the bigger picture, he was doing her a favour.
‘That’s because,’ Art told her patiently, ‘there’s always more to people than meets the eye, and that includes billionaire developers.’
‘Really? I hadn’t noticed. Do you want to tell me what’s going on here, Art, or shall I make it easier for you by bringing it out into the open myself?’
‘What do you mean?’ He frowned.
‘I mean you...this atmosphere...’ She breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly. ‘Something’s off and I’ll spare you the discomfort of spelling it out in words of one syllable, shall I? You’re leaving. Your time here is up. You came for a protest that ended up a damp squib. Perhaps you were hoping for more fireworks.’
‘The opposite,’ Art told her quietly.
‘You’re...not off?’
‘No, that bit you got right. I... It’s time for me to pack my bags and leave.’
* * *
Rose stared at him, horrified at how painful it was to hear those words. Everywhere hurt. He was going. She’d known he’d be off but, now that he’d confirmed it, it felt as though she’d been hit head-on by a train. Her legs had turned to jelly but she kept standing, holding her ground and hoping with everything inside her that the pain tearing her apart wasn’t reflected in her face.
‘Of course,’ she said politely.
‘You always knew I’d be leaving.’
‘Because you’re a wanderer in search of a cause.’
‘Not entirely.’
‘What do you mean? What are you talking about?’
‘I think this is a conversation better conducted with you sitting down.’
‘Why?’ Rose wondered whether she would be able to move at all without falling to the ground in an undignified heap. That was what jelly legs did to a person.
‘Because...you might find what I’m about to say somewhat surprising.’
Rose looked at him uncertainly, then galvanised her body into action. She wasn’t going to sit at her desk. She wasn’t conducting an interview! Although the atmosphere felt hardly less formal.
She walked towards the sitting room, which was the only room downstairs, aside from the large cloakroom, that hadn’t been converted into something useful that could be modified and used as a source of income.
Like all the other rooms in the house, it was high-ceilinged and gracious in proportions. It was painted in soothing shades of grey and cream and lavender and the furniture was well-made and tasteful.
Rose flopped down onto the sofa and then watched in tense silence as he prowled the room, his beautiful lean body jerky as he darted thoughtful glances in her direction.
‘Are you going to spare us both the drama and just say what you have to say? It’s not as though you haven’t warned me in advance and you needn’t worry that I’m going to do anything silly like break down and cry.’
* * *
