‘It’s nothing,’ he muttered roughly, eyes the colour of rich coffee lingering at that cut-out at her waist, on her hips.
‘It’s not nothing,’ she parried softly. ‘And I really appreciate it.’
That drew his attention to her face. To the pulse leaping at her throat. His nostrils flared for the briefest moment, then he stepped back. ‘Then show that appreciation. Come.’
On shaky legs that had nothing to do with the four-inch heels she wore, she stepped down, then walked by his side to the front door…where photographers and reporters waited.
She blinked in surprise at the first flash, then the flurry that followed. It wasn’t until Nelios was a few minutes into the interview, while she lingered one step behind him, that it occurred to her she was being used. That, while she’d seemingly blagged her way into having more time to state her case, he intended to take advantage of that time, as he’d openly warned her. Or it was something as simple and retributive as payback for the inconvenience she’d caused him?
Smarting a little at the idea, she started to step away, only to feel his strong arm slide around her waist.
‘The most important guest is here. Be so kind as to not cause any disruption now, Vayle,’ he rasped silkily without looking her way.
She stilled, her senses leaping with heady abandon when his hand brushed her bare skin.
‘Petralis. A pleasure as always.’
Vayle forced herself to focus and gulped. She was face-to-face with Cabral Soares, one of the wealthiest men in the world. As if one billionaire tycoon wasn’t overwhelming enough.
‘Just between us, I’d been hoping you would build one of your famous hotels in my beloved city. I’m glad you weathered the red-tape storm to bring it to fruition.’
‘So am I,’ Nelios replied.
Cabral smiled at the stunningly dressed woman on his arm who dripped in diamonds. ‘Marika and I are on the maiden Nelios Club Experience. We look forward to being surprised.’
Nelios’s smile brimmed with self-assuredness. ‘If it falls short in any way, let me know, but I don’t think it will.’
‘Confident as always.’ Cabral turned to Vayle. ‘And who is this delightful creature?’ He shook her hand, a charming smile curving his lips.
Nelios looked down at her, eyes still charged with wild electricity making the storm brewing inside her rage that little bit wilder. ‘This is Vayle Lancaster,’ he said simply, with no extras.
And that was how he introduced her to many outrageously influential guests, all eager to pay homage to the powerful Nelios Petralis and the wonder and prestige he’d brought to their city: Vayle Lancaster.Letting them draw their own conclusions as to who she truly was or what her presence in his life meant.
And slowly a different kind of storm eddied to life in her chest. A storm fuelled by quiet outrage, three glasses of vintage champagne and, astonishingly,hurt. Because she was left in no doubt at all that Nelios had played her like a Stradivarius.
‘This wasn’t simply a benign invitation, was it?’ she asked when, hours later, the last straggling guests had been firmlyguided out by Capaldi and his retinue, and she found herself alone with Nelios.
The sight of him loosening his bow-tie to dangle down his chest, and tugging the studs of his shirt apart, threatened to derail her senses, but she rallied like never before.
‘Benign?’ he echoed without inflexion but his eyes remained watchful, complex with seething emotions held tightly under wraps. ‘I can’t say I’ve ever had that label bestowed on me,glikia mou.’
He drew to a stop before her and she came face-to-face with the strong column of his throat and his tanned, lightly hair-dusted chest. Her mouth dried. Her body positively vibrated with a need she could scarcely fathom, threatening once again to derail her outrage. She clawed it back with vicious purpose, using the fuel of it to suppress the uninhibited hunger he engendered in her with seemingly very little effort. ‘You really don’t care who you hurt, do you?’
‘Tell me how you believe you’ve been hurt,’ he invited, all loose-limbed sardonicism, a mogul replete after a successful evening of having people hang onto his every word.
‘Stop it! You know exactly what you’re doing. Those pictures outside, introducing me to the great and powerful without telling them my reason for being here…. Of course, it won’t do to publicise the fact that you’re in the middle of destroying my family name and the people I hold dear, will it?’ She emphasised that last bit to draw a reaction, and predictably his jaw rippled with displeasure, his sensual lips thinning. ‘You want Agnes to see, don’t you? To open the newspapers in a few hours and see me standing next to you, looking like your…’
‘Like my what, Vayle?’ he encouraged with a dark rumble.
‘Like your conquest!’
‘Yes,’ he bit out coldly. ‘She doesn’t deserve to have what she wants—to live happily into her dotage, having achieved her life’swork. Not after what she and her husband did to me. You want to save her? I’ll double what I’m offering for your hotel. But you will fire her, effective immediately. That’s my condition. What you choose to do with your money is up to you. Save her with the proceeds of your hotel, if you wish; that’s your prerogative. And, to sweeten the deal, I’ll give you the pick of a marketing job in the Nelios hotel of your choosing, anywhere in the world. But you and you alone will work for me. Not her.’
Her eyes widened. As a sweetener, it was right up there in dream-come-true-land. Except she would betray Tolis’s memory and hurt Agnes, while losing her inheritance to boot: the very definition of being caught between heaven and hell. ‘That’s…’
‘Cruel?’ A macabre twist of emotion turned his face into an abstract painting. ‘It’s far, far less than she deserves.’
‘No, Nelios. My answer is no. I won’t throw someone I love under the bus. Not for all the money in the world.’
