Читать книгу The Holiday Escapes Collection - Сандра Мартон - Страница 45

‘YOU look nice today,’ Diane said as she ran into Charlotte in the ladies’ room the following day. ‘Are you going out to lunch?’

Charlotte recapped her lipstick and rolled her lips together before answering. ‘Yes, I am actually.’

‘The Greek billionaire?’ Diane guessed with a knowing smile.

Charlotte frowned as she turned to face her colleague. ‘You haven’t been talking to him, have you?’

‘No, why?’

‘Listen, Diane.’ She lowered her voice conspiratorially. ‘Remember we discussed the other evening how Mr Latousakis and I had met before?’

‘Yes, on Santorini, right?’

‘Well…it’s really important you don’t talk to him about me. I don’t want him to know I’m a single mother.’

‘You think he’ll be put off if he knows you’ve got a little kid?’ Diane asked.

‘You know what men are like these days,’ Charlotte said, turning back to the mirror to inspect her make-up rather than meet her colleague’s eyes.

Diane gave a deep sigh of agreement as she leaned against the basin. ‘Tell me about it. What is it with men and commitment?’

‘Exactly,’ Charlotte said, relieved she didn’t have to go into lengthy explanations.

Diane gave her a probing look. ‘He’s not Emily’s father, is he?’

‘No.’ Charlotte felt like kicking herself for answering so quickly when she saw the way her colleague’s brows rose above her eyes.

Diane pursed her mouth thoughtfully. ‘So you’re just doing lunch?’

‘Yes, just lunch.’

‘Does he want to see you again?’

‘Maybe…I’m not sure…’ Charlotte comforted herself that it was at least the truth. She had no idea what Damon wanted from her. She couldn’t quite believe he had temporarily freed her from his previous demands, but for some reason she still felt compromised. She knew it was incredibly dangerous being around him but she couldn’t seem to help herself.

She was becoming addicted to his smile, not to mention that kiss…

‘But what do you want?’ Diane asked, as if tapping into her thoughts. ‘You said you were involved with him before. Do you still feel anything for him?’

‘I can’t afford to feel anything for him,’ Charlotte answered. ‘I have a child and he’s a playboy. The two don’t go together.’

‘You know you could always just tell him about Emily and see what happens,’ Diane suggested.

‘No. He’s only going to be here for a month.’

‘What if he finds out some other way? Won’t he think you’re a bit weird, keeping it from him?’

‘He won’t find out,’ Charlotte said as she straightened her skirt over her hips, wishing she was feeling as confident as she sounded. ‘I’m going to make sure of it.’

Diane pushed herself away from the basin. ‘Well, for a start you’d better take all those photos of your daughter off the desk in your office,’ she advised. ‘Damon Latousakis might not be Emily’s father, but he sure as hell looks like he could be. Even if he doesn’t see the likeness, others certainly will.’

Charlotte stared at her reflection once the door had closed on Diane’s exit, the panic in her eyes widening them to the size of dinner plates.

If Diane was already suspicious, what hope did she have with anyone else, including Damon himself?

He was waiting for her when she came out of the museum a short time later and her heart gave a little kick in her chest at the sight of him dressed in a charcoal-grey suit, the crisp white of his shirt highlighting the olive tone of his skin.

He gave her a smile as he looked down at her. ‘Hello, Charlotte.’

She returned his smile with a shy one of her own. ‘Hello…’

His finger under her chin brought her wandering gaze back to the dark intensity of his. ‘Have you forgotten my name?’ he asked.

‘No, of course not…’

‘Say it, Charlotte.’

She felt her stomach give a little quiver. ‘Damon…’

His mouth tipped upwards in a satisfied smile as his hand fell away. ‘I like the way you say my name. No one else says it quite the way you do. You sort of breathe it out of your mouth in a husky little whisper.’

Charlotte could feel the heat seeping into her cheeks and looked away again. ‘We’d better get going; I’ve only got an hour and with Julian still off sick I’ve got extra work to do.’

She fell into step beside him as they walked across Hyde Park, her heart racing each time his arm brushed against hers. Her fingers itched to slip into the warmth of his hand and, to stop herself from being tempted, she crossed her arms over her chest.

‘Are you cold?’ Damon asked.

‘No.’

‘Here, take my jacket.’ He slipped it from his shoulders and draped it around her. ‘The wind is chilly. I heard there is going to be snow on the Blue Mountains this evening.’

Charlotte felt her insides twist as she thought of the clinic Stacey should have been in by now. She had lain awake for most of the night, imagining her sister shooting up all of Damon’s money. She didn’t want to give up on her own flesh and blood, but she was starting to realise that Stacey—like their father—was fast moving past the point of no return.

‘Feeling better?’ Damon asked.

Charlotte could barely look at him for the guilt she was feeling. ‘Yes…thank you…’ She huddled into his jacket, breathing in his scent as the lingering warmth of his body on the expensive fabric encompassed her slim frame.

The restaurant was busy but the maître d’ escorted them to a quiet table in one corner.

Charlotte examined the menu, hoping it would stimulate her appetite, but every time she saw the price of a meal she was reminded of how empty all of her accounts now were.

‘You look worried,’ Damon observed. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’

He smiled at her too rapid response. ‘Yes, there is; I can see it on your face. I said it was just lunch, OK? No strings. I will even let you pay half if that makes you feel more comfortable.’

‘No!…er…I mean, that’s not the problem…’

He leaned forward slightly. ‘What is the problem?’

‘I’m just finding this…a little difficult…’

‘You and me?’

Her eyes met his briefly. ‘Yes…we haven’t seen each other in almost four years…I don’t know what to say to you…’

‘Tell me about your life,’ he said, leaning back as the waiter placed water and bread rolls on the table.

‘My life?’

He gave her an ironic look. ‘You do have one, do you not?’

She looked down at the table. ‘I’m sure it’s pretty boring compared to yours.’

‘What about relationships?’ he asked. ‘Do you have a serious boyfriend?’

‘I would hardly have agreed to spend time with you if I had,’ she pointed out with a wry glance in his direction.

‘You think I am an arrogant bastard, do you not?’

Charlotte saw no reason to spare his feelings. ‘Yes.’

‘I was surprised at how seeing you again brought it all back.’

‘Brought all what back?’

His smile was crooked. ‘No one has ever made me feel the way you do.’

‘I’m sure you’re just saying that.’

He reached for her hand and enclosed it in the warm temptation of his. ‘I mean it, Charlotte. I want you as much as I ever did and you want me. I can see it in your eyes every time you look at me. There’s a hunger there that tells me no one has been able to satisfy you the way I did.’

She pulled her hand out of his. ‘You broke my heart, Damon. I’m not going back into the ring.’

He frowned as he sat back in his seat. ‘Come on, Charlotte. You know I had no choice but to believe you were responsible. Every finger of blame pointed to you.’

Bitterness sharpened her gaze as it connected with his. ‘You had a choice to believe me but you chose not to.’

He let out a sigh. ‘I have agonised over it for the last four years but I keep coming back to the same point—if you did not steal those sculptures, then who did?’

‘I don’t know, but someone didn’t like the fact that you and I were an item. What about your childhood sweetheart, the woman you were expected to marry?’

‘Iona Patonis?’

‘Yes. She came into the gallery with Eleni a few times. She was a brooding sort, I always thought. She could easily have done it.’

‘Iona would never have done something so despicable,’ he insisted. ‘She is one of the most kind-hearted people I know. She helped nurse my sister for months and she has been a wonderful support to my mother since Eleni died.’

‘Then why haven’t you married her?’ she asked. ‘She clearly expected you to.’

He tapped his fingers on the stem of his wineglass for a moment. ‘That is a good question.’

‘Are you going to answer it?’ Charlotte asked after a short silence.

His eyes came back to hers. ‘Iona gave up on me a while ago,’ he said. ‘She married a cousin of mine. I think you might have met him once—Nick Andreakos. I believe she is already expecting their first child.’

Charlotte hoped her surprise wasn’t too evident on her face. ‘Did you find that hard to cope with?’

He gave a dismissive shrug. ‘Not really. If I had married her, it would have been a marriage of convenience in any case.’

‘You didn’t love her?’

‘I loved her in a brother sister sort of way,’ he said. ‘But there was no spark, if you know what I mean.’

Charlotte knew exactly what he meant. She could feel it now, just by sitting with her knees so close to his. She had only to stretch out her legs and the heat would explode between her thighs.

She looked down at the menu again and tried to concentrate.

‘What would you like to eat?’ he asked.

She closed the menu again and put it to one side. ‘I’ll just have the soup of the day.’

‘Is that all?’

‘I’m not very hungry. Besides, I have to cook a proper meal when I get home, so…’

‘So?’

Charlotte inwardly gulped.

‘Why do you have to cook when you get home?’ he asked. ‘You could have a main meal now and just have a snack later.’

‘I l-like to cook.’

‘What is your speciality?’

She blinked at him vacuously. ‘Speciality?’

‘Your favourite dish.’

Her eyes fell away from his. ‘Um…it’s kind of hard to choose…’

‘I did not know you were so domesticated,’ he commented. ‘When we met four years ago you lived on take-aways or frozen meals.’

‘I have since learnt the error of my ways,’ she said with a strained effort to smile. ‘Thank God for celebrity chefs. Cooking is so hip now.’

‘Would you cook a meal for me?’ he asked.

Her eyes flared in panic. ‘Oh, I’m not that good…really…I can just about manage one of those just add chicken and frozen vegetables…’

‘It sounds a whole lot better than hotel food,’ he said. ‘So how about it? What about you cook for me tomorrow night?’

‘I’m busy.’

‘The night after?’

‘I—I don’t cook on weekends.’

‘Then I will cook for you,’ he said. ‘I will bring the ingredients to your house and cook a meal that will totally stun you.’

‘My kitchen is tiny…and my oven and cook top doesn’t work.’

He gave her a narrow-eyed look. ‘You do not want me to come to your house, do you?’

‘It’s not a house, it’s just a rented flat and I haven’t had time to clean up for weeks.’

‘If your goal is to put me off, let me assure you it is doing the very opposite,’ he said.

Charlotte could feel the rising panic beating like a drum in her chest. She could ask Caroline to babysit one more time but the flat was full of little kid stuff. It even smelled like Emily.

‘I’m not sure it’s such a good idea that we see each other again,’ she said, actively avoiding his eyes.

The small throbbing silence should have warned her he was preparing a lethal comeback.

‘You are forgetting our agreement,’ he said in a tone that was ridged with steel. ‘I have paid for your company and I intend to get my money’s worth.’

She raised her worried gaze back to his, desperately trying to find a way out. ‘You’re here for a short time and I have…I have someone else.’

‘You said there was no one in your life at present.’

She forced herself to resist the urge to look away. ‘I was lying.’

‘You seem to be rather good at that,’ he observed.

‘I don’t want to complicate my life with the past,’ she said. ‘What we had is over.’

He grasped her hand once more, his long fingers entrapping hers. ‘It’s not over, Charlotte. You know it is not. How can you say it is over when there is this incredible pulse between us? I felt it that first night. As soon as our eyes met across the room, I knew you felt it too.’

‘It has to be over. You think I’m a thief.’

‘What’s in the past is best left there. This is here and now,’ he said, his dark gaze intent on hers. ‘We have the chance to explore our attraction again. Let us not waste it.’

She shifted her gaze again, her insides twisting in anguish. ‘Don’t ask this of me, Damon.’

‘Are you in love with this other person?’

She let out a wobbly breath. ‘It’s not that kind of love…’

‘What sort of love is it?’

‘It’s hard to describe.’

‘I am sure they will understand if we spend an occasional evening together,’ he said. ‘You can tell them you are spending time with an old friend.’

She was so tempted—so very tempted.

‘I guess a couple of nights here or there would be OK,’ she conceded.

Had she really said that? What was she thinking? It was madness to dance with such danger.

‘When we met the first time around, we rushed headlong into a physical relationship,’ he said. ‘I guess that was really my fault. I saw you and I wanted you. But who knows? This time around we might become both lovers and friends.’

Charlotte swallowed the scratchy contents of her throat. ‘Friends?’

He gave her another spine-loosening smile. ‘You find it hard to see me as a friend?’

‘No…I’m sure you’d make a very good friend.’ And a deadly enemy, she reminded herself.

‘Let us start by seeing each other on Monday evening,’ he suggested. ‘How about dinner and some dancing? I’ll send a car to pick you up.’

‘No.’

One dark brow rose over his eye. ‘No?’

‘I—I can make my own way,’ she said, lowering her eyes once more.

‘All right,’ he said after a tiny pause. ‘Meet me at my hotel at seven.’

‘OK…’

He smiled and raised his glass to hers. ‘To us being both friends and lovers.’

Her glass didn’t quite make the distance to his. ‘To being friends,’ she said and, hoping she wasn’t courting disaster, downed the contents.