Enchanted (The Accidental Billionaires #4)(7)

How could he possibly have missed my arrival? I’d just made enough noise to wake up the dead.

Owen is right. Noah looks exhausted. Does he ever sleep? Can somebody that tightly wound actually get a decent night’s rest?

I could almost forgive him for completely ignoring me, because I knew it wasn’t about me.

He was obviously driven by some kind of personal demon to keep working without interruption.

It was like he just didn’t notice . . . anything, except whatever project he was working on at the moment.

Strangely, he was dressed in a suit and tie. Who does that when they’re going to arrive in the Caribbean warmth and humidity? He’d dumped his jacket, probably with the flight attendant, but he was definitely dressed for work.

I watched, fascinated, as his masculine fingers flew across the keyboard so fast his hands were almost a blur.

Noah’s body was enormous, and he took up space. But he could use a few more pounds on his large frame.

The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled back, probably so they didn’t interfere with his ability to pound on the computer accurately. It was the only casual thing about his appearance.

Otherwise, he was all business.

“Noah!” I said as strongly as possible without yelling.

Oh, for God’s sake, look up.

Look. Up.

Completely frustrated with his lack of response, I stretched out and slammed the laptop closed.

“What the fuck!” he grunted in protest after he’d quickly moved his fingers away from the keyboard to keep them from getting smashed. “What did you do that for?”

Okay, at least I have his attention.

“I called your name several times and you didn’t answer,” I explained. “Where were you?”

He reached for the top of his computer to open it again.

I reached over and put my hand firmly on top of it. “Don’t you dare,” I warned.

“I have work to do,” he answered in an ornery tone.

“You’re officially on vacation.”

“Who the hell are you?” he snarled.

For a second, I was taken aback.

Had Owen not told Noah? Or did he really not recognize me?

If it was the former, I’d put a knee in Owen’s balls for not explaining.

“Just consider me your tour guide,” I answered.

Slowly, he turned his head completely in my direction to get a good look at me.

My stomach did somersaults as his eyes met mine. Noah Sinclair had always been a little intense, but the ferocity of his stare pinned me to the leather seat with no hope of escape.

Everything about Noah had obviously grown excessive over the years. Either that, or my perception of him was way different now that I was an adult.

I squirmed, but I refused to let him fluster me as he surveyed me carefully from the top of my blonde head to my toes.

He squinted a little. “Andrina?”

I swallowed hard. Obviously he had recognized me, even after ten years.

“Nobody calls me that.” Well, except for my parents, and him. I’d let him get away with calling me by my full name when I was younger, but I wasn’t a child anymore. “It’s Andie.”

“You were Owen’s little friend. Weren’t you in Boston?”

I shook my head. “Not anymore. I moved back to Citrus Beach several months ago. And I’m not exactly little.”

For some reason, it bugged me that Noah still saw me as just Owen’s little friend. I wasn’t exactly ten years old anymore.

His dark brows narrowed as he asked, “You came back to Citrus Beach because Owen did?”

Had I returned because Owen was moving back to the West Coast? Maybe he was the catalyst that had gotten my ass back home, even though I’d planned on returning anyway. I’d just never seemed to have the time between my travel plans to actually move.

I nodded. “We’ve been best friends for years. And I’ve always wanted to move back.”

It seemed like the easiest explanation.

Noah’s full, gorgeous lips turned up slightly. “I remember. You two were inseparable. Layla was usually around both of you, too.”

“Layla stayed in California. It was just me and Owen in Boston.” Back then, I’d wished that Layla could join Owen and me, but I’d understood why she’d stayed local.

Noah was silent as he leaned back in his chair and continued to look me over. “You grew up,” he observed. “How are your folks doing?”

I tried not to cringe, because I knew it was just a polite question. Noah really didn’t know my parents.

I looked away from him. “Fine, I think. They’re somewhere in the Mediterranean right now. I’m not quite sure where. I haven’t heard from them for months.” That situation wasn’t unusual. My parents were rarely in Citrus Beach, even though they still maintained a home there, and generally didn’t check in often.

He frowned. “I’m sorry, Andrina. It seems like they were gone a lot.”

My heart missed a beat as I turned to look at him with a forced smile. “Like you said, I grew up. I’m living my own life now.”

Somehow, Noah had always seemed to know that I missed my parents when I was younger. My care had pretty much been left to nannies, and then to a companion as I got older. I wasn’t exactly neglected. I’d had every material thing I’d wanted.