Chapter 1 The man I hate
The last person I expected to see standing outside my office was the man I had spent three years trying to forget.
And judging by the way he was looking at me, he hadn’t forgotten me either.
I stopped dead.
He was leaning against the black Mercedes parked beneath the hotel entrance, one hand tucked into the pocket of his tailored trousers, the other holding his phone.
Older.
Broader.
Infuriatingly handsome.
And still wearing that same arrogant expression that had once made me want to slap him.
His eyes lifted from his screen.
Found mine.
For a second, neither of us moved.
Then his mouth curved into the smallest, most infuriating smile.
“Hello, Amira.”
My stomach tightened.
I hated that he could still do that.
Make my entire body react to the sound of his voice.
I forced my expression blank.
“Don’t.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“Don’t what?”
“Say my name like we’re friends.”
He pushed away from the car.
“We were never friends.”
“No,” I replied. “We weren’t.”
He walked towards me.
Slowly.
Confidently.
Like the last three years hadn’t happened.
Like he hadn’t shattered everything between us and disappeared without a single explanation.
He stopped far too close.
I caught the familiar scent of his cologne.
My heart betrayed me with one hard beat.
“Still angry,” he murmured.
I looked directly into his eyes.
“Still unbearable.”
His smile widened.
“Good.”
“Good?”
“I was worried you’d changed.”
“I have.”
His gaze dropped briefly to my lips before returning to my eyes.
“Not where it matters.”
Heat rushed through me.
I hated him.
I absolutely hated him.
So why did standing this close feel like stepping dangerously close to a fire?
I folded my arms.
“What do you want?”
“Your boss.”
I blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“Your boss hired my company.”
My blood ran cold.
“No.”
His expression became almost amused.
“That’s not really your decision.”
I stared at him.
Of all the companies in London.
Of all the men in London.
It had to be him.
“You’ve got to be joking.”
“I’m not.”
He stepped past me, heading towards the hotel doors.
Then he stopped.
Looked over his shoulder.
And gave me that same devastating smile.
“Looks like we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other, Amira.”
I should have walked away.
Instead, I whispered the only thing I could think of.
“I can’t stand you.”
His eyes darkened.
“I know.”
Then he disappeared inside.
And for the first time in three years, I realised something terrifying.
I wasn’t sure whether I wanted him gone…
or wanted to know what would happen if I let him stay.
