She hovered in the doorway and watched Nelios and the other man with whom he’d attended the meeting this afternoon converse in low tones while devouring sumptuous-looking steaks. She knew that they were both actively ignoring her, and a spark of ire warmed up her courage. But, before she could speak, her stomach took charge, growling fiercely enough to stop them mid-conversation.
Dear God, could this get any worse?
Apparently it could. Because the conversation stopped once her belly finished its demanding aria. Nelios turned his imperious head, eyes scouring her as if she was the trash he had just informed her he’d been treated as by his parents. Trashheintended to throw away the second they landed.
So do something. Don’t just stand there.
‘Mr Petralis,’ she started, only to stop when he held up an imperious hand then lowered it to drum on the table, his stare penetrating.
‘I cannot think or eat to the unsavoury accompaniment of your stomach’s soundtrack.’ He yanked out the chair next to him. ‘Sit down,’ he snapped.
Annoyingly, since she had no leg to stand on, Vayle sat. A button was pressed. An attendant appeared. Lavish choices were offered. Within minutes a large prime steak, salad and the prettiest potatoes she’d ever seen on a plate was set before her. And, because she’d been programmed to never look gift horses in the mouth, and despite her face flaming when another discordant melody surged from her middle, she picked up her cutlery and ate.
She was aware they were both watching. Aware that, after a full minute, the other man murmured something in Greek to Nelios, reigniting their conversation. Which dragged a rake ofirritation across her senses, ruffling them until she couldn’t stay quiet.
‘You know it’s impolite to conduct a conversation when one party doesn’t speak the language, don’t you?’
Derisive brown eyes turned on her. ‘By all means, tutor us in the correct etiquette of conversation while you breathe my air and eat my food, Miss Stowaway,’ Nelios drawled.
The other man smirked. Vayle attempted a glare that bounced off his wide shoulders.
Let it go. Let itgo. ‘I’m just saying…’
‘Here’s a word of advice: know when to quit,’ the man said, cutting a square of steak and chewing it.
Her gaze moved to Nelios and she saw a flash of something close to irritation in his eyes before he too resumed eating. Silence reigned, self-consciousness aggravating her already ragged senses.
She was setting down her cutlery when an attendant approached. ‘We’ll be landing to refuel in ten minutes, Mr Petralis.’ The man, who looked more like a bodyguard than an attendant, darted a glance at Vayle before returning to his boss. ‘The pilot wants to know whether you still want the authorities on standby as you previously requested?’
Without glancing at her, Nelios nodded, picked up his wine glass and drained it. ‘Tell him nothing has changed. I want Miss Lancaster off my plane and handed over as soon as—’
‘No, wait. Please don’t. Look, I’ll… I’ll do anything!’
‘Rookie mistake,’ Andreas muttered under his breath five minutes after Vayle Lancaster had blurted that unexpected response, and he and Nelios had left her in the dining room without replying. ‘I’m not sure whether I pity her or am amused by her. Either way, you’re better off cutting her loose asap. I’llgo grab the security. She’ll be someone else’s problem within the hour, my friend.’ He walked away.
Outside, the flurry of activity rumbled on, including the squad car and two policemen waiting patiently to board with Nelios’s permission.
He rolled his shoulders with a combination of irritation at his friend and the knowledge that he needed to heed Andreas’s warning and cut her loose. He didn’t need this drama. Didn’t need the flare of heat across his skin whenever he looked at her face, at her mouth, heard the breathless quality of her speech or observed the way her damn eyelashes fluttered when she was agitated. He didn’t need to remember how firm and supple her body had felt beneath his touch.
His latest creation, the Nelios XV hotel, was in the final stages of construction in Argentina and needed every ounce of his attention. It would be the milestone to mark the many he’d accrued over the years, and it was his first foray into South America, a place he’d fallen in love with.
A place where he’d also witnessed the kind of hardship that ravaged his soul. Which was why, alongside his hotel construction, he was also building special housing for desperate children, as he and Andreas had once been. Both projects were ambitious, with varying challenges, the kind he fully relished. But also the kind that needed his full attention. So why the hell did he hear herI’ll do anythingplea on repeat in his head?
He’d already let himself down in that bedroom by revealing truths he’d excised from his life. Yes, her words and blind belief in his parents had riled him like nothing else had for a very long time. He’d barely managed to snap that, contrary to her belief, he had attended his father’s funeral. He had stood beneath a tree thirty feet away and watched the man who’d discarded him get put in the ground. Then he’d waited until everyone haddeparted, and he had stood over his grave—bitter, bewildered, angry and, much to his deep chagrin, a little lost.
Maybe it was that last sensation that had triggered this end game, the need for answers before time cruelly stole them from him.
Whatever.
And, yes, he’d concluded the quicker he ripped those rose-tinted glasses off Vayle’s face, the better for them all, because he wanted her to know exactly who Agnes Adamis truly was. Who Tolis had been. Wanted there to be no crumb of compassion left for them by the time he was done.
If Vayle cared enough to take the trouble, verification would only take her hours, days at most. Nelios had never bothered to hide his past. Hell, his first business venture had been one street away from that alley in which he’d nearly lost his life after he’d run away from the final foster home he’d been placed in. A home where flying fists and verbal abuse had been as commonplace as the stale, infested oatmeal he’d been expected to choke down at the breakfast table, or the freezing showers he was forced to take just so his foster parents could save the euros they’d greedily accepted from the government and kept for themselves.
Approaching his bedroom now, to where she’d marched off to rescue her shoes and whatever else she’d brought aboard on her little stowaway adventure, Nelios fully expected to toss her out and let the authorities charge her with whatever crime they saw fit.
Seeing her distraught expression when he entered, though, he hesitated. Not because he felt for her; absolutely not. But part of him wanted to understand how she could be so conclusively fooled. How her belief in Agnes and Tolis could be so unshakeable.Hehad known his parents were lying that day. And, true to their lies, they’d never bothered to come back for him. Not the year after, and not in the two decades since.
And yes, Vayle’s knee-jerk offer to ‘do anything’ also intrigued him far more than he should’ve allowed. Even now, all the possibilities of how he could wield those two words in his favour seductively stirred through him.
