by Maya Blake
Except, she’d been unprepared for what those two weeks entailed.
Those extras rushed to the fore now as she stared back at Christos. As she tried, and failed, to keep her pulse under control. To keep that blaze from igniting in her belly, the rush of her blood roaring in her ears.
They would be required to share his suite. Again.
They would be required to hold hands in Costas’s presence. Again.
They would be required to act, for all intents and purposes, as husband and wife. Again.
‘Do I need to remind you of the terms?’ he pressed at her silence.
‘No, but...’
Things have changed, the voice in her head supplied the words she swallowed hastily.
Since that night in his Mayfair penthouse and the insanely delirious encounter on his living-room sofa. Since she’d felt Christos up close and ferociously personal; experienced the heat and taste of him, the lethal, primitive power lurking beneath his hand-stitched suits. The passionate mastery he could command at his fingertips.
‘But?’ he demanded, his voice a touch harder.
‘You have the Kyrios case to work on. Aren’t you looking at a possible new hearing?’
The reminder of the case he’d just lost tightened his features. ‘It will be taken care of by the end of the week. I’ll fly back to attend a hearing if need be, but I doubt it’ll come to that.’ His voice oozed the arrogant confidence that his opponents hungered to cut down to size but never quite succeeded in doing.
‘What about the rest of your caseload?’ she asked, although she knew the answer. While admittedly a few cases like the Kyrios one saw the inside of a courtroom—the Drakakis name was usually enough to get opponents to settle out of court—there were few that inevitably demanded his presence in London. It was why he was able to rule his law empire from anywhere in the world. Why he had a superyacht moored on the Greek Riviera and half a dozen luxury homes around the world at his disposal.
‘Are you worried that I’ve forgotten how to do my job on the strength of one loss, Alexis?’
The query was edged in steel. A reminder that this man was a seasoned predator through and through, to be underestimated at one’s peril.
‘No, of course not. I’m just wondering if it might be wise to postpone the trip to Drakonisos for a little while.’
His head tilt resembled a hawk eyeing a hapless rabbit. ‘Are you sure it’s not something else bothering you?’
Electric tension ratcheted up her spine. ‘What could possibly bother me?’ she parried, striving for flippancy that emerged half-baked.
‘Perhaps you’re concerned whether your last wifely performance will be up to par this time around?’ he suggested silkily, his gaze combing her face with narrow-eyed intensity.
She stiffened, the veiled insult striking deep. ‘Excuse me?’
‘I think Costas is becoming a little sceptical about our relationship.’
‘What?’
He shrugged. ‘We may be required to stay longer this time around. I’m merely suggesting you give your performance a little more...polish in case my suspicions are right.’
That dart burrowed deeper. ‘I didn’t realise you were so disappointed with my performance last time. But perhaps I should be the one concerned here? Perhaps I’m working with limited resources.’
Her return parry was met with an arrogant twist of his lips, as if the great Christos Drakakis couldn’t possibly stage a sub-par performance. That merely taking on the role of pretend husband guaranteed its success under his artistry.
And damn him, he was right in his confidence.
On their last visit to Drakonisos, the brush of his lips across her knuckles that’d felt far too natural, for instance.
The mind-altering presence of his hand in the small of her back had made her aware of every craving cell in her body.
As had the lingering touch of fingers as he passed her a piece of fruit. The heavy-lidded faux passion in his eyes when he offered to apply her sunscreen.
All under the watchful gaze of Costas Drakakis.
All delivered with supreme mastery.
All fake.
Yet...as she thought about repeating it now, the flames in her belly leapt wildly. Because, even fake, every act had stroked too close to that secret bubble of need inside her she kept under lock and key.
Also that episode at his place had altered things. His kisses—far removed from a sun-drenched beach on Drakonisos and from his grandfather’s ever-watchful eyes—had awakened something inside her, a different kind of yearning she’d thought she’d quelled after that harrowing and humiliating period with Adrian, only to discover that she possessed a deeper vein of untapped need. One that had roused with shocking potency and persistence after a handful of minutes spent with the man who should’ve remained forbidden fruit to her.
With total recall, she summoned the sweet torture of his lips on her nipples, the sensation of his fingers between her thighs, skilfully strumming her to that shocking, unravelling climax that had changed the dynamic between them. Irreparably.
His low, derisive laugh yanked her back to the present. To the far too risqué subject under discussion.
‘You think my performance was lacking?’ he asked, his wry amusement implying he believed the opposite.
She forced a casual shrug. ‘You’re talking about something that happened more than six months ago. I don’t recall the minutiae of it all.’
Alexis was aware of the red rag she was waving in front of a temperamental Greek bull. Aware of that kick of awareness and excitement triggered by her words. Just as she was acutely aware of her surroundings. Of the fact that she simply couldn’t do that here. Because more than anything, she risked repeating the same mistakes she’d made with Adrian.
Sure, Christos hadn’t made promises to her as Adrian had. But she’d left herself wide open to temptation. Ignored the firm warning the Hope House nuns had embedded in her. Nothing is permanent. Don’t form attachments. She’d ignored the warning and dared to reach for the sacred promise of the one thing she desired most—to belong. To experience a semblance of the family she’d never had.
Adrian West, her erstwhile boss, had wielded that promise like a priceless treasure at the start, then slowly it had become a paring knife, stealthily slicing away her confidence, manipulating her trust until she was stripped to the bone, decimated and vulnerable, the life she’d painstakingly scraped together for herself shattered.
It was the reason she’d redoubled her efforts to keep herself free from emotional entanglements, especially in her professional life. The temp agency placement with Christos Drakakis three years ago had been the perfect environment to foster that vow, the formidable lawyer with steely eyes and forbidding aura exactly what she’d needed after Adrian’s easy snake-in-the-grass smiles and cruel intentions.
Her skin grew tight and sensitive under Christos’s intense gaze.
‘As much as I wish to refresh your memory, this is neither the time nor place. Suffice it to say that I recall a certain...woodenness to your performance last time. One you will do well to take time to address before we return to Greece.’
Irritation rose as she frowned. ‘It’s not like you to wait six whole months to tell me off for something I’ve done wrong. I’m almost inclined to believe you’re making all this up.’
One derisive eyebrow rose. ‘For what purpose?’ he questioned silkily.
‘I don’t know. Maybe you want someone to pay for what happened in court today? You haven’t lost a case since I’ve been your assistant. Perhaps this is what happens when things don’t go your way?’
Alexis watched in silent, stunned fascination as every trace of humour evaporated from his face. On some level she was relieved they were back in a more professional setting, although there was nothing comforting about the constant high-octane
currents that fizzled and popped beneath her skin as his face clouded.
Existing in Christos Drakakis’s orbit was like living in the eye of a tornado, armed with the certain knowledge that one risky move from that centre would be catastrophic. She knew the devastating cost of straying off that path and had barely salvaged her dignity to tell her story after making such a mistake.
‘Once upon a time, perhaps I would’ve sought oblivion in the arms of a willing body. But I’ve discovered that merely postpones the inevitable victory, you see. As for your inference, I do not deflect or place blame where it’s not needed in order to feel better about myself. Only the people who stand in the way of me achieving my goals or possessing what’s mine will pay.’
There was a warning in there. It shivered across her skin like a ghostly feather.
‘But if you want me to be specific, you proved my suspicions correct in my penthouse two months ago, Alexis.’
She swallowed a gasp, her skin flushing all over again. ‘We agreed not to talk about that. Ever.’
‘I don’t recall making such a promise.’
‘Fine, I said I didn’t want to discuss what happened. You didn’t disagree.’
‘Because the situation seemed to uncharacteristically distress you.’
‘Then why are you bringing it up now? Things got a little...hot and heavy when they shouldn’t have, but we both agreed it was a mistake.’ If only she’d been able to stop thinking about it. To stop secretly yearning for a repeat performance.
His lips twisted, but a hard light remained in his eyes. ‘You’ve forced me to draw correlations. And I can’t help but notice the marked difference between the mediocre performance you’ve been dishing out this past year when you’ve been pretending to be my wife and what you’re truly like.’
Her whole body grew furnace hot. ‘So I’m not an actress. You knew that when we agreed to this.’
‘But now that I know you can do so much better, I must insist that you step up.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘That I want nothing less than what you showed me two months ago.’
She shook her head, wishing with every fibre in her body she’d left the subject alone. Walked out. She had a million things to be getting on with. And yet, she stayed put as he sauntered back towards her.
‘Are you serious? I just said it was a mistake,’ she insisted in a voice that wasn’t as firm as she wished it.
His lips compressed. ‘Regardless, you exhibited a side to yourself that put your previous performances to shame. Take it from me that Costas will notice anything less than a stellar delivery.’
The need to distance herself from this unnerving subject had her balling her hands behind her back, her chin coming up in challenge despite the quivering in her belly. ‘You want your money’s worth? Don’t worry, sir. I’ll deliver. I always do, don’t I?’
The question lay between them, silence he seemed content to let develop growing heavy in the room.
The jarring ringing of his phone made her jump, while he barely blinked at the intrusion. Knowing she’d called him sir because she’d secretly wanted to rile him held her in place, wondering if she’d taken leave of her senses. Again.
‘You’ve not let me down...so far. Let’s not start now by keeping important clients waiting, shall we?’ The drawl drew her attention to her stasis.
Sucking in a much-needed breath, she went to his desk and snatched up the phone as Christos settled into his chair, his fingers steepled against his lips as he watched her.
Alexis grew intently aware of the stretch of fabric over her breasts as she leaned against the desk, the wool blend of her skirt as it tightened over her bottom, the rush of air-conditioned air over her calves.
‘Drakakis Law Group, how may I help you?’
She breathed through the client’s brisk demand to speak to Christos, her grip on the phone easing as she held it out to her boss.
He took the receiver from her but didn’t answer it immediately, his eyes pinning her in place. ‘The whole team is working late, including you. So cancel any plans you have.’
Without waiting for her answer, he swung his chair away from her.
And just like that she was released from his force field; the phone call a half-time whistle giving her a much-needed reprieve. But as she exited his office, settled behind her desk and attempted to get her thoughts back to briefs and law reports and away from entangled bodies and heated kisses, Alexis couldn’t help but wonder just how she’d damned herself by giving in to temptation that night on her boss’s sofa.
* * *
The first few days after it happened, she’d spent every second on tenterhooks, wondering how they were going to continue working together.
The mishap had been inexcusable, one she’d vowed never to allow after that one, heart-stopping, never-to-be-repeated instant the first time she’d laid eyes on him. Then, she’d been struck dumb by the visceral potency of his presence. Having worked in a midsize law firm previously, with more than half the workforce being men with large egos who believed themselves top of the food chain, she’d thought she knew every facet of the male dynamic.
Christos Drakakis rising to his feet and watching her with his hawklike eyes and predatory stillness the moment she entered his boardroom had put paid to every preconception she’d had. To her everlasting shame, she’d stopped in her tracks, her reaction to his aura a solid punch to her solar plexus. But also in that moment, she’d wondered if she was looking at yet another downfall; whether she shouldn’t cut her losses and run in the opposite direction, lest she be taken in by another callous smooth-talker.
Luckily, she’d come to her senses, her common sense further shored by her best friend, Sophie, who’d made it her business to find out everything there was to know about Alexis’s potential new boss to prevent her making the same Adrian-shaped mistake again; going one step better to equip Alexis with dire stories of what had befallen Christos’s previous assistants.
Stories Alexis had discovered soon after accepting the role as Christos Drakakis’s assistant, and in the three years of rigid and clinical professionalism since, were absolutely true.
She’d stayed. And she’d summoned previously unmined control to withstand the sight of Christos leaning over her desk, hands planted on either side of her computer with his thick brawny forearms exposed and chiselled face filling up her vision while he grilled her about a task, using that deep, faintly accented Greek voice. She’d withstood the effect of his fiercely evocative leathery aftershave that made her want to lean up into that space between his square jaw and his collar and take a deep whiff of vibrant skin and man, the way she’d fantasised far more than was healthy.
She’d had to because, despite the outward show of calm in the face of emotional chaos, the scar tissue inside that had never healed post-Adrian still felt raw and stung deep enough to keep her awake at night, years later. Only pride and the need to draw a conclusive line between her and the greatest mistake of her life had been the catalyst that had pushed her into overcoming temptation.
She’d succeeded. For the most part.
Except in moments like five minutes ago, when Christos stared a moment too long and too deeply into her eyes, and she feared he’d seen something other than the impeccable assistant she’d striven to be. Each time he relented she felt as if she’d been saved from the jaws of death. Alexis wished those were just fanciful thoughts.
They weren’t.
Up until that twenty-minute trip to the registrar’s office when he’d slid a wedding ring on her finger, her position had granted her a front-row seat to his past relationships, more specifically, the fervid highs each of his new liaisons experienced when he first turned his intense grey eyes on them; the hope that blazed in their eyes that they would be the one to turn the commitment-phobic divorce lawyer into the matrimonial triumph of the decad
e; and their inevitable devastation when those hopes were dashed with a goodbye bouquet of flowers and an expensive trinket.
Alexis was the one who fielded frantic, tearful calls, patiently listened to wrenching, heartbroken sobs and pleas for her to intervene on their behalf. On one occasion she’d been shocked when a scorned lover had turned nasty and blamed her for Christos’s lack of interest.
She’d been equally shocked when Christos had plucked the phone from her hand and informed the unfortunate ex that should she ever threaten his assistant again, she would be sued for everything she owned.
It had never happened again and she hadn’t summoned the nerve to ask him whether the short-term liaisons that seemed to be his trademark were still ongoing. It was none of her business. Just as her personal life was none of his.
She snorted under her breath. Perhaps others would pity her that, at twenty-six, her personal life was non-existent. But she’d made the decision to keep clear of emotional entanglements.
The quiet but ever-present anguish of her abandonment topped by Adrian’s betrayal had only sealed that resolution.
As usual, she felt a hollow in her stomach as she thought of the woman who’d given her baby away.
If it’s possible, please name her Alexis.
Seven short words that summed up her beginning and her only connection to the mother who’d abandoned her. Before the familiar drag of anguish could squeeze her insides, she slammed that painful door shut, cringing when she realised she’d been staring into thin air for several minutes. Focusing on her email when it pinged, she stared at the message from Christos.
Demitri is calling in a minute. I want you in here with me.
She rose and re-entered his office, watched his towering six-foot-three figure stride from his window to the ringing phone on his desk, struck all over again by how effortlessly he shouldered the weight of his world.
Demitri Kyrios. The client who’d lost half of what he owned to his conniving, cheating soon-to-be ex-wife who, more importantly, had gained full custody of his legitimate child simply to spite him for the illegitimate one he’d recently acquired.
