She thrust out her hand automatically, her mind so full of questions that she wasn’t really looking at who might be in the room. Then her father stepped aside, and she got a full view of the man rising from the chair at the head of the table.
It was Leo.
Chapter Eight
Skye froze, and for the first time she understood the expression deer in the headlights.
“Ms. Porter,” Leo said, stepping toward her with his hand extended. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
He took her hand before she had a chance to either pull it away or melt into the floor. And—damn him to hell—she felt that familiar tingle. A sensual awareness that used to make her deliriously happy.
Right now, it just pissed her off. She withdrew her hand, careful to keep her face unreadable. She could only hope that she was succeeding. “You as well, Mr.—?”
Her father stepped forward, practically bursting with glee. “Skye, I’d like you to meet His Royal Highness, Prince Stephan Leopold of Avelle-am-see.”
Skye swallowed, feeling like she was lost in some nightmare. Or an alternate universe. “What are you doing here?”
Her father stiffened, looking at her with utter shock. And no wonder.
“Skye,” Douglas Crane said, his expression stern. “The prince is here to discuss international law.”
She should keep her mouth shut—she knew that—but emotion had taken over, and apparently she’d forgotten how to exercise control. “Why?” she demanded, looking between the two men.
“I’m attending the symposium,” Leo said, his eyes locking on hers. “And I’m intrigued by your firm’s expertise.”
“The prince read your article,” her father said, a question in his eye and a hint of anger in his voice.
Not surprising. It wasn’t every day that royal clients came to a firm in Austin, Texas. But she knew damn well this wasn’t about the work the firm did. This was about her.
She opened her mouth, unsure of what she was going to say, but certain it wasn’t going to be words that would make her father happy.
Leo took a step forward, diving in before Skye could manage a word. “Perhaps I could speak to Ms. Porter alone?”
Her eyes went wide, and she started to shake her head. Her father responded first, though, and while she’d expected him to back up her refusal—why would he or Douglas want her alone with this man when she’d already been rude and off-putting?—he surprised her by dipping his head in acquiescence and saying, “Of course, Your Highness.”
“But … I—”
“I’ll be in my office,” her father said, entirely ignoring her discomfort and predicament.
“Buzz us if you need anything at all,” Douglas added, his expression stern but polite.
Her father hesitated in the doorway. “Skye, I know you will treat His Highness with the respect he deserves.”
Right-o. That would be exactly none.
But she didn’t say that. Instead, she nodded, then gave her father and his partner a weak and watery smile that was all she could manage. Then she stood still until the door clicked shut behind them. Only then did she explode.
“Respect? Why. Are. You. Here?” For once, her words were clear. Each word forced out like a shot from a gun. She was alight with fury. And Leo—damn him—didn’t seem affected at all.
“Exactly what your father said. I’m looking for legal advice.”
“I … don’t believe you.”
He winced, and shook his head. “I read your law review article, Skye. I want to work with you.”
She shook her head. “I don’t do international law, and I certainly don’t work for you. I think you need to leave.”
She felt lightheaded, and she walked to the chair at the head of the table hoping he couldn’t tell how rubbery her legs had become. She pulled it out, then sat down, her hands clasped in front of her. “This isn’t going … to happen.”
He moved down the table, sitting in the chair to her immediate left around the oval conference table. He angled his chair so that he was facing her. For a moment their eyes met, and she thought she saw regret in those deep blue eyes. Then they went flat, the face of someone used to hiding his emotions.
She glanced down at the table, not wanting to look at him. “You broke my heart.”
“I know. I’m sorry. That’s another reason I’m here today—to apologize to you.”
She shot him a glare. “Seriously? After all this time?” She had no idea what emotion she was feeling. Anger, hurt, rage, confusion? It was all too much of a mess. And the worst part? Some tiny, traitorous part of her was giddy about seeing him again.
But Skye wasn’t stupid. She knew perfectly well that if she spent any time with this man, she would get hurt all over again. And it had taken so long for her to get over him the first time.
She faced him, then focused on her speech, purposefully ignoring those dangerously hypnotic eyes. “I’m sure you’ll find … another firm. Try Washington. We have an office there full of international law experts. In London and Brussels, too. I’m … sure anyone at those offices could help you.”
“You’re saying that you won’t work with me on this?”
“I’m saying you need to leave.” She pushed back from the table and walked to the door, ready to pull it open. “Don’t feel obligated to say goodbye. You … didn’t the last time.”
“Your father will be disappointed.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Of course not. I’m only pointing out that your father seemed excited by the idea of having a prince for a client, even one who wants to keep a low profile while he’s in Austin.”
“You want to … guilt me into taking … this assignment? Hire the firm if you want. But you … won’t be working with … me.”
She turned the knob, her heart pounding painfully. She had to get out before the tears started to flow.
“Skye, the entire reason I am sitting here right now is because of that article you wrote.”
She shook her head. She should pull open the door and bolt, but somehow, she was frozen to the spot, her body hot, her pulse pounding, her head humming.
Was this a panic attack? This might be a panic attack.
When they were together in the past, she’d always been so at ease. Those had been the best days of her life. She hadn’t worried about what he thought or the way she sounded. But she was worrying about it now.
Because she wanted him to hear very clearly how much she wanted him gone.
Bolstering her courage, she drew in a breath and turned back to meet his eyes dead on. She forced herself to speak slowly even though she wanted to blurt out the words. She wanted him to understand every damn syllable. The words came in bursts and slightly slurred. But at least they came.
“My father is ambitious for me. But once I tell him that you’re a lying man-whore who used and dumped me, I promise he will kick you out of this office and get the press involved. Whatever low-key visit to Austin that you wanted will be shot in the foot right then.”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“Try me. He doesn’t know about us. Nobody does. I never told anybody that I dated a prince who used me, and I ripped that stupid picture of you off the board at The Fix. I erased you, Leo. Scrubbed you from my life.”