Joanne Rock - The Magnate's Marriage Merger

She hesitated. “Yes. Except how many people will ever get to enjoy it?”

“Not enough,” he agreed easily. “But if we’re inspired, we’ll do a better job with properties like Foxfire. And that’s an attainable vacation for a lot of people.” Turning from the view, he gestured toward the cabana where the food trays waited.

A few minutes later, she had settled herself on a long, U-shaped couch that wrapped around a granite coffee table under the shade of white silk, a plate of fresh fruit and cheese balanced on one knee. Ian poured them each a glass of prosecco even though she’d already helped herself to a bottle of water.

She’d forgotten how extravagantly he lived. While her father had been extremely wealthy, her mother hadn’t always been. After suing Lydia’s father’s estate, she’d eventually taken great joy in overspending once her settlement came through, but by then, Lydia had moved on to her own life. Her father had left her a small amount that she had put toward the purchase of her Manhattan apartment, but his legally recognized children had inherited his true wealth. Besides, Lydia had spent her childhood perpetually worried that her mother would squander their every last cent on frivolous things, so Lydia maintained a practical outlook on finances, careful never to live above her means.

Still, who wouldn’t enjoy a day like this?

“You mentioned you wanted to speak to me privately after today’s meeting,” Ian reminded her as he handed her the sparkling prosecco in a cut crystal glass. A single strawberry rested at the bottom. “Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She sipped at the bubbles and set the drink aside. “Ian, I can’t work with you on this project.”

He’d removed his jacket to expose the gray silk shirt beneath. His muscles stretched the fabric as he moved, reminding her of the honed body beneath.

“You’re a professional. I’m a professional. I think we can put aside personal differences for the sake of the project.” His expression gave away nothing.

Old hurts threatened to rise to the surface, but she kept a tight rein on those feelings.

“Don’t you think you’re diminishing what we once meant to each other to call our breakup a ‘personal difference’?” Her chest squeezed at all that she’d lost afterward.

One eyebrow lifted as he met her gaze. “No more than you diminished what we meant to one another by playing matchmaker for me afterward, Mallory West.”

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