Читать книгу By Request Collection Part 2 - Шантель Шоу, Natalie Anderson - Страница 22

IN SPITE OF the driving rain that lashed her face, stinging her eyes and almost blinding her, Sadie had no trouble finding her way to the offices where she had an appointment first thing that morning. From the moment that she left the tube station and turned right it was as if her feet were taking her automatically along the route she needed, with no need to look where she was going.

But then of course she had been this way so many times before. In other days, some time ago perhaps, but often enough to know her way without thinking. Of course then she had been heading in this direction in such very different circumstances. In those days she would have arrived in a taxi, or perhaps a chauffeur-driven car, with a uniformed driver sliding the limousine to the edge of the kerb and opening the door for her. Then, the offices towards which she was heading had belonged to her father as the head of Carteret Incorporated. Now they were the UK headquarters of the man who had set out to ruin her family in revenge for the way he had been treated.

And who had succeeded far more than he had ever dreamed.

Burning tears mingled with the sting of the rain as Sadie forced her feet towards the huge plate glass doors that marked the entrance to the elegant building, blinding her so that she almost stumbled across the threshold. Bitter acid swirled in her stomach as the doors slid open and she recognised the way that the words Konstantos Corporation were now etched in big gold letters on the glass where once she had been able to see her father’s name—her family name—displayed so clearly.

Would she ever be able to come back here and not think of her father, dead and in his grave for over six months, while the man who had hated him enough to take everything he possessed from him now lorded it over the company that her great-grandfather had built up from nothing into the multimillion corporation it now was?

‘No!’ Drawing on all the determination she possessed, Sadie shook her head, sending her sleek dark hair flying, her green eyes dark with resolve, as she stepped into the wide, marble-floored foyer. Her black patent high-heeled shoes made a clipped, decisive sound as she made her way across to the pale wood reception desk.

‘No!’ she muttered under her breath again.

No way was she going to let cruel memories of the past destroy her now. She couldn’t let them take away the hard-won strength she had drawn on to get herself here. The resolve that was holding her upright and, she prayed, stopping her legs from shaking, her knees from giving way beneath her. She had come here today because it was her last—her only chance. She had to brave the lion in his den and ask him—beg him—to give them this one small reprieve. Without it the thought of the consequences was impossible to bear. For herself, her mother and her small brother. She couldn’t let anything get in the way of that.

‘I have an appointment with Mr Konstantos,’ she told the smartly dressed young woman behind the reception desk. ‘With—Mr Nikos Konstantos.’

She prayed that no tremor in her voice gave away how difficult she had found it to say the name—his name. The name of the man she had once loved almost to the point of madness. The name she had once believed would be hers too for the rest of her life—until she had realised that she was just being used as a pawn in a very nasty power game. A cruel game of revenge and retribution. A settling of scores from wounds that had originally been inflicted long ago and had been many, bitter years festering viciously, until they had poisoned so many lives. Her own amongst them.

‘And your name is?’ the receptionist enquired.

‘Carter,’ Sadie supplied, hoping that the sudden dropping of her green eyes to examine some non-existent spot on one of her hands didn’t betray how difficult she had found it to come out with the lie. ‘S-Sandie Carter.’

She had had to resort to the subterfuge of a false name, she acknowledged inwardly, a nasty taste in her mouth at having been reduced to it. She knew only too well that if she had tried to gain an appointment with him under her real identity then Nikos Konstantos would never even have given her a moment’s consideration. Her request to see him would have been refused with cold-blooded arrogance and unyielding rejection. Her attempt to contact him would have been squashed dead under his arrogant heel before it had even struggled into life and she would be back where she had been at the start of this week: lost, desperate, penniless, and without a hope in the world.

She didn’t have much of a hope now, but at least the receptionist was checking through a list of names and times on her computer, smiling her satisfaction as she found the fictitious one that Sadie had given her, and making a swift click with her mouse as she checked it off.

‘You’re a little early…’

‘Not to worry—I can wait…’ Sadie put in hastily, knowing only too well that ‘a little early’ was a major understatement. She was way too early—by more than half an hour. But nervousness and a real fear that she might have backed out of this if she hadn’t left home just as soon as she was ready had pushed her out of the door well before the time needed for her journey.

‘No need,’ the other woman assured her. ‘Mr Konstantos’s first appointment cancelled, so he can see you straight away.’

‘Thank you,’Sadie managed, because it was all she could say.

She’d committed herself to this interview and she had to go through with it. But now that the time had come she felt sick at just the thought of confronting Nikos here, in what had once been her family’s offices. What had possessed her to do this? To think that she could cope with seeing Nikos for the first time in five years, and come back into the building that did so much to emphasise how far her family’s fortunes had fallen—both at the same time.

‘I think perhaps…’ she began again, her already shaky courage deserting her, meaning to say that she’d changed her mind—she had another appointment, or her mother had just called…anything to give her an excuse to leave, get out of here now. To run and hide before she had to come face to face with…

‘Mr Konstantos…’

The receptionist’s tone, her sudden change of expression, would have alerted Sadie to just what was happening even without the use of that emotive name. The other woman’s eyes had widened, her gaze going straight to a point over Sadie’s shoulder, behind her back. And the expression in it, as in the way she had said the name—that name—told Sadie without another word needing to be spoken just who had come up behind her, silent as a hunting jungle cat, and possibly just as deadly.

‘Has my ten-o’clock appointment arrived?’

‘She’s right here…’

The receptionist smiled as she indicated Sadie standing before her desk, and she clearly thought that Sadie would smile back. Smile and turn. Possibly say hello or some such.

But Sadie knew that she couldn’t move. Her legs seemed to have frozen to the spot. Her mind too had iced up, leaving her incapable of registering a single thought other than the fact that he was behind her.

That Nikos Konstantos was right behind her. And that at any moment he would see her and realise who she was.

It was the voice that had done it. Just those few words in those deep, sensually husky tones had short-circuited her brain waves, making it impossible to think of anything but the shivering sensations that ran up and down her spine. Once she had heard that voice whisper to her in the darkness, murmuring sounds of delight and promising her the very best—the world—the future. And, entranced by that sexy accent, lost in the world of sensuality that just being with him had always created around her, she had foolishly, naively believed in every word.

Every lying word.

‘Mrs Carter?’

Her silence had gone on too long. It had had the opposite effect to the one she had hoped for. What she had really wanted was to become invisible. Or for the beautiful marble floor to open up so that she could fall right through, out of sight. But instead, by standing still and silent, she had puzzled and confused the other woman so that she frowned in faint enquiry, making a slight nod of her head to draw Sadie’s attention to the man behind her.

A man who couldn’t possibly be unaware of the way she was standing there, stiff and awkward and with blatant disregard for normal polite behaviour.

‘This is Mrs Carter…’ The receptionist tried again. ‘Your ten o’clock…’

She had to move; she had no choice. Any more delay and she would raise all his suspicions, put him on edge. Drawing on all her strength and squaring her shoulders, Sadie snatched in a deep, sharp breath and turned on her heel. The effort she put into the movement made it far too strong, too wild, so that she whirled round, almost spinning out of control as she came suddenly face to face with the man she had once believed she was destined to marry.

He recognised her instantly, of course. No matter how much she might have changed over the past five years—and she had changed—she knew that. She had to have changed. There was no way she could still be the younger, more relaxed, far happier Sadie who had first met Nikos. But there was no doubt, no hesitation in his recognition of her. She saw the way that his face changed, the sudden tightening of his mouth, the flare of something wild and dangerous in his eyes, and her blood ran cold inside her veins at the sight.

‘You!’ he said, and that was all. The one word was riddled with all the disgust, contempt and obvious hatred that he felt for her, making her shiver inwardly in fearful response.

‘Me,’ she managed, sheer nerves making her tone inappropriately flippant, so that she saw the way that anger snapped his dark straight brows together in an ominous glare. ‘Hello, Nikos.’

‘My office—now,’ he said, and spun on his heel, striding away across the foyer, never once looking back, and obviously believing that she would follow. That she would have no option but to obey the harshly muttered command he had flung at her.

And really, she did have no option. It was either that or leave, with her mission unaccomplished. And now that she had braved the lion in his den, surely she had the worst over with?

Or did she? It was true that she’d been pushed into this meeting she’d been dreading, but she had had no time to prepare, or even to think about what she was going to say. And she had hoped to approach Nikos as calmly and quietly as possible. Instead she had done just the opposite.

She’d knocked him off balance too, and he was angry as a result. Coldly furious.

It was there in every inch of his long, powerful body as he strode across the foyer towards the lifts. It stiffened the straight spine, tightened the powerful shoulders and held his dark head so arrogantly high that she felt it gave him an even more impressive height than usual.

It was impossible not to reflect on the sheer impact of that stunning frame, the width of chest, narrow sexy hips and long, long legs. She had rarely seen him quite so formally dressed when she had known him before, and the effect of the severely tailored outfit was to turn him into a distant, unapproachable figure. Deep inside there was an ache in her heart at the memory of the younger, warmer, kinder Nikos.

At least he had seemed warmer and kinder then. It was only later that she had discovered the truth about how he really was.

‘Are you coming?’

The sharp question dragged her back to the present with a jolt. Warm and kind were not the words to use about Nikos now. In fact, in everything about him he was the exact opposite. As he stood just inside the lift, one long finger jammed hard on the button that held the door open, he directed a cold, icy glare at her face that had her jumping into action fast, almost scurrying the last few steps into the compartment and huddling back against the wall.

Nikos’s only response was a sharp movement that released the button, letting the door slide to, shutting them in.

‘I…’ Sadie tried, but another of those arctic glares froze the words on her tongue.

She had forgotten how deep a bronze his eyes could be in certain lights. In others they could be almost molten gold, the colour of the purest honey and just as sweet—or they had been once upon a time. There was nothing sweet in the look he turned on her now, nothing to melt the knot of ice that seemed to have clenched around her stomach, twisting it brutally until she felt raw and nauseous deep inside.

And Nikos clearly had no intention of even attempting to lighten the atmosphere or to make her feel any better. Instead he simply leaned back against the wall of the compartment, folding his strong arms across the width of his chest as he subjected her to the sort of savage scrutiny that made her feel as if the burn of his gaze might actually shrivel her where she stood. Why she didn’t just collapse into a pile of ashes under it she didn’t know. Instead, she shifted awkwardly from one foot to another then, unable to bear the terrible silence any longer, forced herself to try again.

‘I—I can explain…’ was all she managed, before he made a slicing, brutal gesture with his hand that cut off all attempt at speech.

‘In my office.’

It was tossed at her, almost flung into her face, no hint of expression or trace of warmth on his features. His expression was a stone wall, no light in his eyes, his jaw set and hard.

‘But I…’ she tried again.

‘In my office,’ he repeated, and his tone left her in no doubt that he would brook no argument so there was no use in even trying.

Besides, the confined space of the lift was too small, too claustrophobic for her to want to risk confronting him while she was trapped there. She might have been prepared to face him in his office—in more civilised surroundings—but not here, not now. Not like this.

And, seeing the burn of icy anger in those golden eyes, she felt a shiver creep across her skin at the thought that civilised no longer seemed an appropriate word to describe Nikos Konstantos, either.

‘In your office, then,’ she muttered, determined not to let him have the last word, and the glance she turned in his direction had the flash of defiance in its green depths.

That glance challenged him to take things further, Nikos acknowledged grimly as he adjusted his broad shoulders against the mirrored wall of the lift. But if she knew just what sort of taking it further was actually in his thoughts then he suspected that she would back down pretty hastily. Back down and back away.

It was what he should do too. The back away part at least. He should back away, back off, get his thoughts under control. He had been rocked, knocked mentally off balance by the speed and intensity of his response to discovering that she was in the building. That his ten-o’clock appointment was actually with none other than Sadie Carteret.

With the woman who had once taken him for a fool, used him, fleeced him, damn nearly been the death of his father, and then walked out on him on what had been supposed to be their wedding day. Bile rose in his throat at just the thought. The memory should have been enough to blast his mind with black hatred, drive any more basic, more masculine response right out of it.

But instead it was desire that had hit. No—give it its proper name—it had been lust. Pure, driven, primitive male lust. Though of course there had been nothing at all pure about the thoughts that had sizzled through his mind. And that had been from only seeing her from the back.

He had taken one look at the tall, slender frame of the woman in front of him, gaze lingering on the swell of her hips, the pert bottom under the clinging navy blue skirt. The contrast between the very feminine curves and the surprisingly matronly clothing, the soft flesh pushing against the restricting material, had had a sensual kick that had made his head spin and he had known that he was resolved to get to know this Sandie Carter well—very well—as swiftly as possible.

But then she had turned and he had seen that she was not Sandie Carter at all but Sadie Carteret, the woman who had torn his world apart five years before and was now, it seemed, back in his life.

For what?

‘I suppose things will be more private there,’ she added now, smoothing a hand over her hair and then, more revealingly, down the sides of her hips, as if wiping away some nervous perspiration from her palms and fingers.

She was not as much in control as she wanted to appear and that suited him fine. He wanted her off balance, on edge with her guard down. That way she might let slip the truth about what she was after. Because she was after something—she had to be.

‘And you’d prefer to continue this interview in private?’

‘Wouldn’t you?’

It was another challenge, one that brought her head up, green eyes flashing, her neat chin lifting high.

‘That is why you want to continue things in your office, isn’t it?’

‘I prefer not to have the whole world knowing my business.’

He’d had enough of that when she’d swept into his life like a whirlwind and stormed out again, leaving everything turned upside down and inside out. It had been bad enough that the financial newspapers had delighted in reporting the downfall of the Konstantos business empire with barely disguised glee, but the memory of his personal humiliation at the hands of the gossip columns and the paparazzi made acid burn in his stomach as the bitter taste of hatred filled his mouth.

‘Me too.’

Something in his words or his tone had hit home, making her change her stance and drop her eyes suddenly, looking down at the floor.

So did she have something to hide? Something she would prefer the papers never got their hands on? Something he could use to bring her down as low as she had brought him? A rich sense of satisfaction ran darkly through his blood at the thought.

‘Then in this at least we are in agreement.’

And he would have to control his need to know more, to understand just why she was here. To stamp down on the sudden rush of anticipation that was almost like an electrical charge along his senses. A call to battle and a challenge to be met. Once they were inside his office things would be different. Then he would get the truth from her.

Although the fact was that he already largely suspected he knew what that truth would be. Deep down he knew just why she was here because there really could only be one answer to that question.

She had to be here for money.

What else would bring her here, knocking at his door? That was what she would have most need of after all. When he’d brought her father down, he’d destroyed her luxurious way of life too. And now that Edwin Carteret was dead, there was no one else she could turn to.

But she must be desperate to think of asking him for help. Just how desperate she’d shown by lying about her name. She’d known that there was no way that Sadie Carteret would ever have been allowed to set foot over the threshold.

So why was he taking her up to his office instead of having Security eject her—forcibly, if needed—from the building?

He wasn’t prepared to admit even to himself that the decision had anything to do with the instant physical response he’d felt in the first moments when he’d seen her. And now, in this small compartment, with the tall, slender lines of her body, the sleek, shining mane of dark hair and the porcelain smooth pallor of her skin repeated over and over in the multitude of reflections in the walled mirrors, it was so much worse to handle. The scent of her skin came to him on a waft of air with each movement she made, and when she shook back that smooth bell of hair it was mixed with a soft, herbal essence that made his head and his thoughts spin. Primitive hunger clawed at him deep inside, and the clutch of desire that twisted low down made him shift uncomfortably, needing to ease the discomfort.

Thankfully at that moment the lift came to a halt and the heavy metal doors slid open on to the grey carpeted corridor that led to his office. Deliberately Nikos stood back and gestured to indicate that Sadie should precede him, refusing to allow himself to look anywhere but at the top of her shining dark-haired head as she moved past.

‘Left,’ he said sharply, then swallowed down the rest of the directions as to how to reach his office. Because of course she didn’t need them. She knew the way to what had once been her father’s office probably better than he did, and she was already heading in that direction without any help from him.

She’d made a faux pas there, Sadie admitted to herself. She’d probably infuriated him by not standing back and waiting for directions but setting out at once in the right direction. But she’d just turned to the left automatically, following her path from so many other times in the past. She could only be grateful for the fact that walking ahead of Nikos gave her a moment or two to adjust her expression unseen, to control the sudden waver in her composure, the instinctive tightening of her mouth at the faint shiver that ran down her spine.

She had to remember that she no longer belonged here. That she wasn’t on her home territory but in Nikos’s domain. This was where he belonged now, where he ruled like some king of ancient Greece, absolute monarch of all he surveyed.

Absolute monarch—and possibly a tyrant too? She didn’t know what Nikos was like as a boss, but he had to be a ruthless and highly efficient one. It had only taken him five short years to turn round the fortunes of the Konstantos Corporation from the weakened position in which his father’s wild gambling on the stock exchange had left it. He’d turned the tables on her father, exacting a brutal revenge for the way Edwin had treated him in the past.

‘I’m sorry…’

Carefully she adjusted her pace so that she was no longer leading but had made space for Nikos to walk alongside her, take the lead if he preferred. But he didn’t take advantage of the change. Instead he stayed just behind her, a dark, looming shape at her right shoulder. Impossible to see. Impossible to judge his mood.

He was so close that she could almost feel the heat of his body reaching out to her. The scent of some cool, crisp aftershave tantalised her nostrils with thoughts of the ozone tang of the clear blue sea off the shores of the private island that the Konstantos family had once owned. That island had been part of the property empire Edwin had taken from them, so she supposed that it must now be once more back in Nikos’s hands—unless her father had sold it on to someone else.

Her conscience gave an uncomfortable little twist at the thought, knowing how much Nikos had loved that island. It had meant as much to him as Thorn Trees, the old house that had been part of her family for so long, meant to her mother. So surely he would understand why she had come here today.

‘Here…’

The touch of Nikos’s hand on her arm to bring her to a halt outside a door was soft and swift, barely there and then gone again, but all the same the faint brush of his fingers against her elbow sizzled right the way through to her skin underneath the fine navy wool, making her almost stumble in reaction. She had known that touch in the past, had felt it so intimately on her body, on her hungry flesh without any barrier of clothes. She’d felt his touch, his caress, his kiss along every yearning inch of her, and now, like a violin fine-tuned to a maestro’s hand, she felt herself quiver deep inside in shivering response as much to her memories as to the heat of his hand that barely reached her in reality.

‘I know!’

Unease pushed the words from her, as she faked impatience and irritation as an excuse to snatch her arm away from his hand as she twisted the door handle with unnecessary force and wrenched it open.

‘Of course you do.’ Nikos’s response was darkly cynical, the rough edge to his voice a warning that she had overstepped the mark as he reached a long arm across her shoulder and pushed at the door. ‘But allow me…’

Could the words be any more pointed? Could he make it any plainer that he was emphasising the fact that he owned this place now? That he, and not she, was in the position of power. Very definitely in charge.

And she would do well to remember that, Sadie told herself, pulling her scurrying thoughts back under control, forcing herself to take a couple of deep, calming breaths and remind herself just why she was here. She needed Nikos on her side and she would be foolish to anger and alienate him before she had even had a chance to put her case.

‘Thank you.’

Somehow she managed to make it polite, careful. Not quite the polite, submissive murmur she suspected would be more politic, but politic was beyond her. Her heart was pounding, ragged and uneven, so that her breath was jerky and raw. Tension, she told herself. Pure, unadulterated tension. She was nervous about what was coming, fearful about what she had to say and the way he might receive it.

It couldn’t be anything else, she told herself. It had to be that, could only be that. She wasn’t going to let it be anything else that was affecting her in this way. But with the heady scent of clean male skin in her nostrils, the brush of his hand along her neck as he reached for the door, the memory of those long ago sensual touches and caresses coming so very close to the surface of her mind, she knew that something else was knocking her dangerously off balance. Something she didn’t want to look at too closely for fear of what she might find.

‘Come in.’

Nikos was still keeping to that excessively polite tone, the one that warned her that she was in the presence of real danger. That she was trapped with a dark and menacing predator, one that had simply been biding its time before it decided to turn and pounce. And once inside this office, in the privacy that he had declared he was determined on, with no one close at hand to hear or to intervene should she need them, that surely would be the moment that he finally resolved to attack.

That thought made her legs suddenly weak as cotton wool beneath her as she stumbled into the room, coming halfway across the office before they gave up completely and brought her to nervous halt, not knowing what to do next. And as she stood there, her thoughts whirling, trying to find some way of beginning, an opening that would start her off on the path to saying what she had come to say, the words to ask for what she needed so badly, she felt Nikos brush past her. He strode towards the big desk that dominated the room, his movements brusque and controlled, his long body held taut with some ruthlessly restrained emotion. And it was as he swung round to face her that she saw the dark expression etched onto his stunning features and felt her heart lurch painfully just once, before it plummeted downwards to somewhere beneath the soles of her neat patent court shoes.

Anger. The whole set of his face was tight with icy fury, his golden eyes blazing with it. Away from public scrutiny, from everyone else who might see them together, hear what he had to say, he had thrown off the careful veneer of civilised, cultured politeness. The real Nikos—dark, primitive and very, very angry—was exposed in total clarity, without any pretence to mute the shocking impact of the rage that gripped him. A rage that was directed straight at her.

The predator had decided to pounce—and this time he was very definitely going in for the kill.