Читать книгу Greek Affairs - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 15

ARISTOTLE was running away. And the fact that he was aware of what he was doing made him nearly incandescent with rage. He didn’t run away. And yet after last night, with Lucy, all he’d known was that he needed space—and fast. His brain was still too hot and far too tangled to even pretend he could deal with a banal morning-after scenario. He’d received a call from his New York PA while Lucy lay sleeping, and on the flimsiest of pretexts had declared he’d fly over for the weekend to take care of something that ordinarily he wouldn’t have touched with a bargepole.

Lucy had woken to find him dressing that morning. He’d seen her wake through the reflection of the mirror as he’d knotted his tie with unsteady hands. Unsteady because he’d wanted to strip off all his confining garments and go over to where she lay in such gloriously voluptuous naked abandon and take her all over again. But the truth was he wasn’t sure if he could take that intensity of experience again.

Wasn’t sure if he could take that intensity of experience again? Ari’s hand clenched around the crystal glass, the design digging into his palm as he looked unseeingly out of the plane window. Since when had sleeping with a woman been too intense for him? They were the ones left weak and dizzy and sated. Not him.

He closed his eyes and threw his head back. And then opened them again abruptly when all he could see was Lucy’s passion-glazed eyes as she’d looked up at him the moment he’d filled her, the moment he’d been completely sheathed in her hot moist warmth … It had felt … it had felt like nothing he could have imagined. He could remember the feel of her breasts pushing against him, their peaks as hard as bullets against his chest, could hear their heartbeats even now, thudding slow and unsteady, and then, as he’d started to thrust deeper and deeper, the beats had got faster … until—

Aristotle swore softly. He needed to numb that intensity.

His mouth twisted and he called himself all sorts of a fool for running away. So it was the best sex he’d ever had? That was it. It didn’t mean anything. It hadn’t touched any part of him that hadn’t been touched before. So why did it feel as if it had?

Ari blocked out that assertion. He was immune to feeling, immune to emotions. He’d started to shut them away when his mother had died, and then when Helen Savakis had come into his life, and then finally on that first night in a cold boarding school in England at the age of five. It was the last time he’d cried and now … His gut clenched. Now he only cried in his sleep. He reiterated it to himself: he didn’t do emotions.

Perhaps he’d sensed that Lucy did, and that was why he’d run. A sense of calm stole over him. That was it. She wasn’t like the women he went for … she was bound to be less versed in how this would work. He’d seen the look on her face that morning, slightly nervous, biting her lip … And suddenly he was right back to square one—a raging erection pushing against his trousers, thirty thousand feet in the air, and the only chance of alleviating it far behind him on Greek soil.

He just had to lay it on the line with her, that was all. Make sure she knew what not to expect. And then … then he would take her again, and these demons would not be hovering over his shoulders. Ari smiled cynically. Who would have thought he’d be growing a conscience now, after all these years?

Lucy had got over Aristotle’s abrupt and cold departure yesterday morning. She told herself stoutly that she was back on an even keel. But if she allowed images to surface for a second—She stumbled slightly in the street and a kindly old woman caught her arm and smiled up at her, saying something in Greek. Lucy smiled weakly and mumbled something back. So much for an even keel. If she even thought about the other night for a second she lost her balance … Self-disgust ran through her.

She spied a taverna on the other side of the street and made her way there, sitting gratefully in an empty chair. She ordered sparkling water and fanned herself with a menu, thinking that perhaps it was the heat getting to her. Who was she kidding? The heat was getting to her all right, but it had nothing to do with the sun.

And along with the heat was a lingering hurt—Lucy brutally cut off her thoughts there. She wasn’t hurt. She wasn’t.

She tried to focus on her surroundings, the pretty and quaint area of Anafiotika, a hidden gem of old Athens within touristy Plaka, just beneath the Acropolis. She’d climbed up there earlier, the exertion doing little to clear her head of the tangled knots. She took a sip of water, but with annoying precision her mind slipped back again to that excruciating moment when she’d woken the day before.

She’d felt so heavy, so lethargic, so replete. She’d lazily stretched and opened one eye before realising that she was naked, and that muscles ached where no muscle had been before. In an instant she’d been alert, and staring into the cool, wide-awake green eyes of Aristotle as he’d knotted his tie in the mirror.

She needn’t have worried about the embarrassment of the morning after as he’d coolly informed her he had to go to New York urgently on business, that he didn’t need her, and that he’d be back late on Sunday. It was almost as if nothing had happened. Lucy had even wondered for a paralysing moment if she’d sleep-walked into her boss’s bed and he was merely being diplomatic and ignoring the faux pas.

And then he’d gone, leaving her there, shell-shocked, the only evidence that anything had happened in the tremors that had started through her body along with the ache when she moved.

After he’d left her mind had gone to some numb place where she wouldn’t have to process what had happened, answer the questions that were piling up. Was that it? Had he just been scratching an itch? Would things revert to normal now? Was he that cold with everyone? Lucy had remembered the way he’d treated Augustine Archer and she’d doubled over in her steaming shower, feeling sick. How could she have let this happen with a man like that?

Because, she realised now, as the everyday hustle and bustle went on around her, she simply had not had a choice. He’d overwhelmed her—her response had overwhelmed her. And she was grateful for the space and time to process what had happened.

At that moment a group of handsome young Greek men passed her table, and they all turned to look Lucy over appreciatively as they backed down the street. One of them cheekily wolf-whistled. The shock of the attention when she wasn’t used to it made her freeze. She felt acutely self-conscious in her khaki shorts and V-necked black T-shirt. The waiter in the restaurant bustled over and shouted something at the boys. They ran, laughing, and he started apologising to Lucy, but she assured him smilingly that it was fine and put some money on the table, getting up to go.

She had to acknowledge as she walked away that it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant experience to be noticed like that. She’d hidden away for so long that she’d never had a chance to just play with situations like this.

The sun beat down and she tipped her head up to it for a moment. She felt an alien sensation of lightness, as if she were finally letting go of a weight. It was also a sense of freedom, and she desperately wanted to cling onto it. One thing she knew: if Aristotle thought they could take up where they’d left off when he returned, that sense of freedom might disappear. She’d indulged in the experience once; it would have to be enough. She knew too much about him, about his cold methods, and she knew that she didn’t have the hide of someone like Augustine Archer to be able to take it.

But she had a mortifying, sickening feeling that he’d had enough already, and it killed her to admit to feeling other than overjoyed at the prospect.

She set off back in the direction of the hotel. Just before she rounded the corner a flash of movement caught her eye, and she looked over to see Aristotle lounging against an ancient wall, hands thrust deep into jeans pockets, a faded white T-shirt making him look indecently handsome. Dark glasses hid those amazing eyes, but added to the overall devastating package.

It was so like something she might have conjured up out of a fantasy that she blinked and blinked again. Was it a mirage? He was dressed more casually than she’d ever seen him. He moved, strolled towards her. Stopped in front of her. Her heart stopped and kick-started again with heavy thuds.

This was no mirage.

‘You’re … back.’ Despite the drink of water, Lucy’s mouth felt like a desert.

Ari smiled a hard smile and in that second Lucy knew it was him. Despite his hardness something melted inside her, all her good intentions of moments ago disappearing like pathetic wisps of cloud.

He lifted his glasses onto his head. ‘I left New York in the middle of the night.’

The shock of seeing him like this and the force of those eyes on hers made her brain feel fuzzy. ‘But you … you had to work.’

‘I sorted it out. I needed to get back here.’ I shouldn’t have left, he surprised himself thinking, as lust slammed into his gut.

‘You did?’ Lucy was mesmerised by his mouth, remembering what it had felt like on her skin. Heat bloomed between her legs. People jostled past them and Aristotle took her arm and led her to the side, to the wall. He pushed her back against it and stood close—far too close. She could feel him, smell him … God, she wanted to taste him.

‘Ari …’

He bent his head, feathering a kiss to her neck. ‘Yes, say that again. That’s why I came back.’

‘Ari.’

His hands rested on either side of her head, his pelvis was tight against hers, and she could feel how aroused he was—right here in the middle of the street, with people passing by.

‘I’m going insane for you, Lucy.’

Lucy opened her mouth, but her words were stolen by his lips coming down hard and swift, demanding and eliciting a flash-fire of response. After a long drugging moment Ari lifted his head, his eyes glittering down into hers. Amazingly, she could see herself reflected in his eyes, looking up, dazed, and that sent sanity rushing back. Somehow, with super-human strength, Lucy found the will to put her hands against his broad chest and push.

He budged only minutely, a frown drawing those black brows together.

‘No.’ Lucy was starting to panic. The speed with which he’d appeared and made her conveniently forget all logic was making her burn inside.

He quirked a devilish smile. ‘You’re right. Here isn’t the place.’

He took her hand and started to pull her away, clearly misinterpreting her reasons for wanting to stop. Lucy dug her heels in and pulled her hand back. He didn’t let go, just looked back impatiently when she wasn’t moving.

‘What—?’

He took one look at Lucy’s mutinous face and it sent something cold through him. ‘I’m sorry—did I misunderstand? Maybe you want to be made love to in front of Athens strollers and their families?’

‘I don’t want to be made love to, full-stop,’ Lucy hissed, very conscious of the stares they were getting—primarily from admiring women.

Ari gripped her hand tight and Lucy, very reluctantly, let herself be pulled towards him.

Ari was frowning again slightly, something like ennui trickling through him, making him feel absurdly disappointed. ‘If this is about the way I left …’

Lucy emitted a sharp laugh that disguised the dart of pain and the surge of anger at how easily she’d given in to his charm and fallen into his bed the other night. Faced with him now, the fact that she desired him even more acutely was making her regret it all the more fiercely. ‘Of course it’s not. I’m well aware of how you conduct yourself … I guess—oh, I don’t know—I expected at least a bunch of flowers. After all, isn’t that what you give all your one-night stands?’

He stood stock still, staring down at her, the lines in his face tightening and growing harsher by the minute.

‘Well, let’s make this more than a one-night stand, and then you’ll get a priceless piece of jewellery. Is that what it’ll take, Lucy?’

He looked around for a moment and spotted something Lucy didn’t see. With that tight grip on her hand, he began hauling her away again. Trepidation slithered down her spine. He’d looked ready to throttle her.

He growled back, ‘Tell you what—why don’t we cover all bases now? That way we’re clear, left in no doubt as to where we stand, because to be perfectly honest I don’t think I’m going to be satisfied with just two nights.’

‘What—?’

Ari stopped abruptly at a flower stall and picked out the biggest bunch of flowers the man had. Then, to Lucy’s horror and the flower stall man’s delight, Ari presented it to her with a mocking flourish.

Lucy took them purely because she couldn’t not. She pasted a smile on her face for the benefit of the flower seller, and after paying Ari was leading her away again. The flowers were huge and cumbersome. Lucy tried to get his attention, pulling on his hand, but it would have been easier talking to a block of wood. He led her relentlessly through a veritable maze of streets until they emerged into a charming square and Lucy spotted shops with designer names.

Again without pausing for a moment, Ari tugged Lucy along until she found him leading her into an exclusive jewellery store, the iconic name of which made horror slam into her. As the door hissed quietly closed behind them, and the security guard clearly recognised Aristotle Levakis, Lucy tugged fiercely on Ari’s hand—but to no avail. He led her over to where an eager assistant, already smelling a large sale, stood.

He drew Lucy in close to his side with an arm of steel and sent her a devotedly loving look. Only Lucy was aware of the hard glitter behind it. Hardly breaking that eye contact, he said, ‘I’d like to buy something for this beautiful woman.’ He flicked a glance at the sales assistant and smiled urbanely. ‘Although I’m sure you’ll agree that there couldn’t possibly be anything in this shop to rival her beauty.’

The sales assistant cleared her throat obsequiously and looked Lucy up and down, taking in the T-shirt and shorts, the flat gladiator sandals and dusty feet. Lucy cringed from head to toe under the snooty woman’s scrutiny, and right then she hated Ari more than she’d ever hated anyone in her life, hearing his well-practised patter.

Hellbent on proving something, Ari was still so incensed that he dragged Lucy from display to display, forcing her to look at priceless bracelets, necklaces, earrings and brooches. Every now and then she tried to entreat him, to tug on his hand, but he ignored her. A heavy mass of dark, twisted emotion was weighing him down inside.

Why hadn’t her eyes lit up when they’d got in here? And why had he felt that punch to his solar plexus in the street when he’d believed her to be exactly the same as every other woman? And why was she contradicting that now, insisting on leaving? Making him feel confused and out of his depth. He heard her speak again.

‘Ari. Please. Let’s just go. I don’t want anything here.’

He turned to look down, and the stunning natural beauty of her face and those stormy grey eyes nearly floored him. He could feel the thrust of her soft breasts against his chest. She looked pale. But he did not know how to get himself out of this situation except by saying, his voice harder than he’d ever heard it, ‘We’re not leaving until you choose something, Lucy. There’s not a woman in the world who would say no to that, so please don’t play the wide-eyed innocent with me. It won’t work.’

Lucy’s belly clenched at the look of pure cynicism that crossed Ari’s features, twisting them. Suddenly her anger dissolved, and all she felt was sad. She tore her eyes away and looked around futilely, hating every single item of jewellery on display. This whole scenario was making her skin crawl. But she knew he meant it. They would not leave until she’d chosen something.

She tugged her hand, and for the first time Ari let go. Moving away, feeling tears film her eyes, Lucy searched and searched, barely even seeing the glittering gems arrayed in glorious profusion.

But then something did catch her eye, hidden away at the back of one of the cabinets. It was a necklace of such stunning simplicity that it took her breath away. It was a butterfly design; she’d always had a sentimental thing about butterflies, and her mother had used to buy her presents with butterfly motifs. Seeing this now was like some kind of sign, and Lucy had to fight back the tears.

The wings of the design glistened with what she could only assume were tiny diamonds, and three delicate silver strands linked it on each side to the catch.

She pointed with a trembling finger. ‘I like that one.’

A startled gasp of disbelief came from the sales assistant, clearly seeing her month’s worth of commission disappearing down the drain.

‘That one?’

Ari had heard the exchange and was behind Lucy, looking over her shoulder. She tensed as the fine hairs stood up on the back of her neck.

The sales assistant couldn’t keep the pain out of her voice. ‘Well, yes, it is a nice piece …’ She laughed nervously, ‘If you like something more … subtle … and the designer is local. But really …’

Lucy heard a scathing, ‘Less than one thousand euros? I don’t think so …’ come from behind her, and then she felt his mouth close to her ear, so only she could hear which he said. ‘I think I want a lot more than a two-night stand Lucy, mou, so I think you’re worth a lot more than that …’

Before she knew it Ari had arrogantly picked out a completely different necklace, with a huge sapphire stone surrounded by diamonds, and the ecstatic sales assistant was wrapping it up efficiently before they changed their minds.

Outside the shop, Lucy broke desperately from Ari’s grasp, but he caught her again effortlessly and swung her round. She closed her eyes and to her utter horror could feel tears welling. She couldn’t stop one from slipping out. She felt a tense stillness come into his body.

‘Lucy …’ He sounded exasperated now. Lucy didn’t doubt that he’d moved women to tears after buying them jewellery before, but for entirely different reasons.

Ari took hold of Lucy’s arms. They felt slender and fragile under his hands. He saw the tear slip down the pale softness of her cheek and cursed himself silently, feeling like an absolute heel when he didn’t even know why. He’d just spent a fortune on her! And in his experience money equalled a satisfied woman. He was floundering badly, had never been in this place before, and had certainly never expected a reaction like this. She looked almost green.

Seeing her still holding onto that crazy bunch of flowers, Ari grabbed them out of her hand and passed them to a woman strolling past. He was unaware of her gasp of delighted surprise as she took them, entirely focused on Lucy again. More tears were slipping down her cheeks. He was used to women’s histrionics, but this was different. She was doing it so silently. And he could tell that she hated that she was crying.

‘Lucy … look—’

She seemed to come to life and lifted a hand, knocking aside one of his as she wiped her cheek. Finally she opened her eyes, and their swirling depths made him want to pull her close. But everything about her screamed stay back.

Her voice was heart-achingly husky. ‘I’ve never been so hu … humiliated in all my life.’

Ari raked a hand through his hair. He wanted to go back to when he’d seen Lucy in the street, taken her in his arms and kissed her, and start all over again. But when she’d pushed him away and then said those things about the flowers he’d lost all perspective. Without wanting to look too closely at why, he just knew it had something to do with her reference to those other women. That this was exactly the same … A small voice crowed, Wasn’t it?

Lucy couldn’t look up at Ari any more. She broke free and started to walk back towards the hotel. She could see it in the distance; they were closer than she’d thought. She felt numb.

When she felt Ari take her hand again she stopped dead and took a deep breath before turning around. ‘Look—’

‘No, you look.’

She did—right up at him, emotion still swirling dangerously in her breast. She’d never felt so vulnerable, like every one of her childhood fears was being taken out and exposed to the harsh sunlight.

Ari felt tight. ‘Those women in London—the flowers … They weren’t one-night stands. They were pathetic attempts to negate your effect on me and to keep up appearances.’ His mouth twisted. ‘I’d agreed with Parnassus that it might help distract people from investigating the merger if I was seen to be out and about as usual.’

Lucy’s head went into mind-melt.

‘I’m sorry for leaving you so abruptly the other morning. I’m sorry for the flowers, and I’m sorry for dragging you into that shop and forcing you to choose something you didn’t want.’ Even now he couldn’t understand her reaction, or why he was explaining himself when he never had before. And he couldn’t really believe he’d felt compelled to defend his actions in London. But he wanted Lucy more than he wanted to understand right then …

Fresh tears threatened and Lucy wailed inwardly, Don’t be nice! I can’t handle nice.

She pursed her lips even as her anger drained away spectacularly. He hadn’t slept with those women? She felt very wobbly and vulnerable, and knew her words lacked impact. ‘Your behaviour was unforgivable. Spending that kind of money just to make a point is disgusting.’

His face tightened. He held up the bag. ‘What do you want me to do with it?’

Lucy felt wrong-footed by his immediate response. The Ari she’d thought she knew was morphing out of all recognition. She thought for a second. ‘I don’t think that lady in the shop deserves commission when she couldn’t be bothered to promote local talent. I don’t know … it’d be nice to give it to someone who’d really appreciate …’

She looked around. In the thronged square, back at the jeweller’s shop, she could see a young couple clearly in love, looking wistfully through the window at the engagement rings. Lucy could see the pain on the young man’s face at his girlfriend’s quickly disguised yet crestfallen expression as they walked away. She glanced up at Ari and could see that he had followed her gaze and witnessed the little exchange.

She saw his jaw clench. He let her hand go and strode through the crowd to the young couple. Lucy saw the conversation, saw Ari gesture back to her with a rueful smile and hand the young man the elaborately wrapped box. The young couple’s faces were shocked as Ari walked back to Lucy and took her hand again.

He led her away, but looked back for a moment and said, ‘Satisfied now?’

Lucy nodded jerkily. She couldn’t quite believe he’d done that, and asked a little shakily, ‘How … how much was it worth?’

He tossed back a figure and she felt the colour drain from her face. She bit her lip and said quietly, ‘Oh, well, it’ll buy them a nice engagement ring … or three.’

She felt the earth shift as she realised she was seeing a completely different side to Ari. She was very much afraid that she’d stuck her head into the lion’s mouth and he was about to bite down—hard.

By the middle of the following week Lucy was as drunk as she’d ever felt, and all without touching a drop of alcohol. She couldn’t stop her mind drifting back to last Sunday afternoon, now as she sat waiting for Ari to come out of a private meeting with Parnassus being held in his villa in the hills above Athens.

When they’d got back to the hotel an unspoken inevitability had vibrated between them, intensifying the closer they’d got to her room. Once inside, as if to stave it off, as if she could save herself from the burning flames, Lucy had said breathlessly, ‘Wait … what is this now? What are we?’

Ari had rested back against the door, hands behind him, those lean hips in the low-slung jeans making Lucy’s mouth dry and her head ache with the effort it took not to look down.

‘We are two consenting adults, exploring a strong mutual attraction, and this is … the second time we make love.’

Heat had exploded all around her. He’d pushed off the door and come towards her. Lucy had put out a hand, as if that could stop him, and had watched as he’d nonchalantly stripped off his T-shirt.

She’d swallowed. ‘But … what about us … working together? How can we do this …?’

He’d caught up with her effortlessly and pulled her into him, tight. She had felt the bulge of his arousal pressing against his jeans, pressing just above the apex of her thighs, and her legs had nearly buckled.

He’d bent his head and whispered at the corner of her mouth, ‘This is how we do this …’

Things had escalated swiftly. Clothes pulled and yanked, they’d stumbled and staggered towards the bed, Lucy falling back into the softness, somehow naked except for her underwear.

She’d watched as Ari yanked down his jeans and briefs in one go. She’d gazed at him in all his bronzed, aroused glory, she’d realised in that moment that ever since that day she’d bumped into him in the lift this image had been hidden deep in the recesses of her darkest fantasies. A fantasy she never might have acknowledged if this man hadn’t wanted her too.

Was that why he’d got under her skin so thoroughly from the start? The revelation sent her pulse soaring, pounding through her veins and under her skin, even now, as she sat on the chair with her legs tight together and Parnassus’ own assistant sitting just feet away.

Even that couldn’t halt the images, though. Ari had come towards her like an avenging god and pushed her legs apart, where they dangled over the bed. On two hands he’d rested over her. After looking down at her for an intensely long moment, he’d pushed down one bra strap and then the other, and then pulled down the cups of her black bra so that her breasts were exposed, upthrust by the confining underwire.

When he’d bent his head to blow softly Lucy had groaned deep in her throat, in between her legs a deep, endless ache. When his tongue had flicked out and teasingly licked around the rapidly hardening peak of one breast she’d arched her back, willing him to suck it deep, like he had before.

When he hadn’t, she’d looked at him, felt sweat breaking out on her brow. He’d smiled devilishly, and she’d cursed him silently, her eyes flashing in a mute appeal.

He’d shifted her back onto the bed and with far too practised ease managed to dispense with her bra. His big hands on her thighs had held her apart. He’d looked at her with such desirous intensity she’d felt trepidation lick through her, feeling that she had to be imagining this.

She’d spoken huskily, and winced now at the memory. ‘How can you … how can you find me attractive? I’m not like … I’m too big … I’m plump …’

He’d merely hooked fingers into the side of her pants, said throatily, ‘You’re perfect …’ and started to pull them down, dropping them summarily on the floor. He’d stood again, blatantly aroused, making a mockery of her words. Making her feel as if she was all woman and the only woman for him.

He’d bent over her and she’d felt his erection teasing her, hot and hard against her desire-drenched sex. She’d felt so wanton, but had bitten her lip and forced herself not to move her hips towards him as she’d wanted to do so very badly.

Lying right over her, so she could feel his chest against her, he’d stretched her arms above her head, the movement causing her breasts to rise as if offered to him like succulent desserts.

Holding her hands captive with one of his much larger ones, he’d trailed his other hand down the side of her body, teasing the side of one breast, and whispered in her ear, ‘You are quite simply the pure embodiment of my every fantasy of what the perfect feminine form is … I didn’t know it till I saw you, and now I can see nothing else …’

Lucy’s heart had stopped altogether. She’d searched his eyes as he’d lifted back and looked down, so dark and hot they’d scorched her alive.

‘You … really mean that?’

Lucy hoped desperately now that she hadn’t sounded as vulnerable as she’d felt in that moment.

In answer Ari had bent his head and laved one of her nipples with his mouth and tongue, before sucking it deep, causing her back to arch again helplessly.

Releasing her hands for only a second while he’d put on protection, he’d come back and captured them high again. Lucy’s hips had bucked of their own volition.

He’d then slid into her, inch by torturous inch, and when he was in as far as he could go, when she didn’t know where she started or he ended, he’d leant close to her mouth and kissed her deeply, before saying, so quietly that she almost didn’t hear, ‘Yes … I really mean it.’

And then, with slow, deep thrusts which built and built to a stunning crescendo—

The door in front of Lucy opened suddenly, and she jumped up at the same time as Parnsassus’ assistant, a guilty flush staining her cheeks, breathing as if she’d just been running. A pulse throbbed between her legs and she was caught by a pair of glittering green eyes.

She saw Ari smile sardonically, as if he knew exactly what she’d just been thinking about, and Lucy flushed even redder. He strolled over and took the file she was holding out of her hands, his fingers caressing hers underneath for a lingering moment, making her pulse beat even faster.

Lucy nearly groaned out loud, and then he said sotto voce, ‘Have Helios bring the car round. We’ll be out of here in less than ten minutes … I’ll tell Parnassus we can work from my office for the rest of the afternoon.’

Lucy just nodded, not capable of much else, and certainly not capable of anything like work. She felt feverish, distracted, more elated than she’d ever felt, and knew that right now she had neither the strength of will nor the inclination to resist this man.

‘We’ve been invited to my father’s house for dinner on Friday night.’

‘You mean you’ve been invited for dinner.’ Lucy shuddered inwardly, she didn’t fool herself for a second in thinking that Helen Levakis had included her in that cosy little invitation.

Ari shook his head and marvelled at this woman in front of him. They were having a private dinner in her bedroom at the hotel, late in the evening. She looked so beautiful in just a bathrobe, with her dark hair spread around her shoulders, not a scrap of make-up, that delicious cleavage just visible in the gap of her robe. When he thought of how they’d barely made it back to the office the afternoon before—He stopped his rampant mind. He was far too susceptible to this woman. And, worryingly, he didn’t feel at all complacent or triumphant about the fact that he’d got her into bed. If anything he just felt a growing sense of hunger. The fact that that was not the usual way for him and women was conveniently pushed aside. He reminded himself that Lucy was different, from a different class—world. It was the novelty of that, that was all. And for now he was loving the novelty.

Reaching for her hand, he tugged her up and over until she fell into his lap, making a spasm of lust arrow straight to his groin.

He shook his head, and before he bent to kiss her said, ‘Where I go, you go.’

Lucy accepted the kiss, drowned in the kiss, but a sense of guilty anticipation made her shiver slightly. No matter that they were spending time together like this. Ari was still as open as a closed book when it came to anything but the most general conversation. And now the thought of getting a chance to learn more about this man, who was fast tangling her head into one big knot of confusion and reducing her body to little more than a slave to his, was proving to be far headier than was healthy for her heart.

When the kiss deepened, and as Ari carried Lucy over to the bed and came down on top of her with his delicious weight and told her how beautiful she was, how desirable, she conveniently blocked out the clamour of voices in her head telling her to be careful, not to be weak, and not to be so easily seduced—and above all not to fall in love.

On Friday evening Lucy was sitting ramrod-straight on a rigid divan in the main drawing room of the grossly opulent Levakis house. Tonight had to be one of the most excruciatingly uncomfortable evenings of her life. From the moment she’d arrived, with Ari’s hand on her arm, it had been clear she wasn’t welcome.

Lucy had held her head high and thanked her lucky stars for her chaotic but expensive education; every time Helen had directed some snide comment her way, or had tried to undermine her, Lucy had answered with the utmost dignity. Helen had even been so rude as to conduct some of the conversation between the few guests in French, but her eyes had almost popped out of her head when Lucy had replied fluently.

Lucy felt inordinately proud of her mother’s legacy.

Ari was now on the other side of the room, talking to the same beautiful blonde who’d captured his attention at that function the first week. Lucy tried to ignore the poisoned darts that seemed to be arrowing into her heart, and tensed even more when she saw Anatolios, Ari’s half-brother, head her way.

He sat down, far too close for comfort, obviously drunk, and Lucy tried to edge away, smiling weakly. He merely moved with her, crowding her. She felt intensely vulnerable.

Anatolios’s blue eyes followed where her gaze had just been and he said, ‘Beautiful, isn’t she?’

Lucy flushed. ‘I’m not sure I know what you mean.’

She looked at Anatolios reluctantly. She guessed she couldn’t be much older than her own twenty-three years, and hoped the revulsion she felt didn’t show on her face.

He smiled sleazily, and then, shockingly, ran a fleshy finger up and down Lucy’s bare arm. She flinched, but couldn’t move, hemmed in as she was.

He gestured with his head. ‘That’s Pia Kyriapoulos. She used to be a famous model, and now she’s famous for being wealthy and divorced and looking for a new husband.’

Lucy swallowed painfully and looked across the room. They did look amazing together—blonde contrasting with dark. Pia had her hand resting on Ari’s arm, and he certainly didn’t look in a hurry to move it. At that moment he looked up and straight at Lucy. Feeling inordinately exposed, Lucy smiled brilliantly and looked back at Anatolios as if he’d said something funny. Not as if he’d said something to make her heart feel as if it was being ripped, still beating, out of her chest.

When she felt Ari’s gaze move again Lucy ripped her arm away from Anatolios, who glowered sulkily at her. His eyes dropped to her cleavage and Lucy screamed inwardly. The guy was a total creep.

Just then Helen swept into the room and said something to Ari who, after a moment’s hesitation, followed her from the room, his face hard. Sensing a chance to escape, Lucy mumbled something about needing the bathroom and fled, vowing to get out of there even if she had to leave on her own.

Wherever I go, you go. Ari’s words resounded mockingly in her head. At least until the next available, infinitely more beautiful woman came along, she surmised grimly.

She was coming back from the bathroom and passing a partially opened door when she heard raised voices. Ari and Helen.

Without being conscious of what she was doing, she slowed down and heard Ari say, a low and blistering voice, ‘I’ll never marry someone like her; she’s completely inappropriate. And anyway, don’t you think it’s a little late to be doing the concerned mother act?’