Alexis suspected it was those other things that required her presence, not that his grandfather’s health was a trivial matter. ‘What other things?’ He remained silent for an age, enough to raise her hackles higher. ‘Christos?’
His name emerged far huskier than she’d intended, reminding her far too vividly of another night on a similar sofa a handful of miles away.
She’d used his name profusely that night. She’d moaned it. Screamed it as she unravelled.
He raised his head and their gazes clashed. The flagrant knowledge that he was recalling the same incident rendered her breathless, her blood thundering through her veins as she returned his compelling stare. It took a monumental effort to drag her gaze from his, to suck in a pulse-calming breath, her relief spiking as he spoke.
‘Costas is a difficult man, as you’ve probably learnt from our visits.’
‘I remember,’ she replied. The old man had zero filter and, while she was thankful most of his views were expressed in Greek, there’d been a few times when he’d addressed her in perfect English, quizzing her about the personal history she kept close to her chest. ‘When he’s not terrifying me, he’s deliberately baffling me by conversing with me in Greek.’
His lips quirked but his eyes remained serious. ‘We’ve had a few...disagreements recently.’
She nodded. ‘The last time we visited, he mentioned that he’d hoped you would take over his company some day.’
‘I wasn’t aware he’d shared that with you,’ he said, a touch tersely.
‘I didn’t pry, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
‘Rest easy, Alexis. It’s not a secret that my decision to pursue a career in law instead of shipping isn’t one he was pleased with. But the one thing we shared was a love of Drakonisos. A place he promised I would inherit. Until recently.’
Her heart kicked both at the news and the fact that he was finally choosing to share personal details with her. ‘What happened?’
‘My cousin, Georgios, happened.’ She waited for elaboration and, after a tense moment, he continued, ‘He’s not satisfied with running Costas’s company or the substantial benefits that come with it. He has now turned his attention towards Drakonisos.’
‘He wants the island?’
Christos gave a terse nod. ‘Yes.’
‘Why? I mean, I imagine he’s in a position to buy himself an island or three?’
He shrugged but his expression grew grimmer. ‘There’s been a certain resentment and rivalry—one-sided, I might add—on his part.’
‘Because he was second choice?’ she hazarded and received a twisted smile in confirmation.
‘Exactly so. My grandfather believed I would take over his company when he stepped down. Even after I made it clear I would follow a different path, he pursued the matter. He still hasn’t given up, which is why I hold voting power on his board of directors and substantial shares in Drakakis Enterprises.’
Alexis had been quietly awed to learn Drakakis Enterprises was a Fortune 500 company worth in excess of ten billion euros. ‘But Costas must know you’ll never just give up being a lawyer?’ Christos was too good at what he did. Was driven by an inner compulsion Alexis suspected was locked in his past. A compulsion she couldn’t see him walking away from to pursue a career in shipping. But if any man on earth could straddle multiple careers, it was Christos Drakakis.
‘He lives in hope, one I haven’t been able to sway him from. It’s also why he holds Drakonisos over my head. I had hoped that would change after you and I married, but it seems Georgios is playing an entirely different hand. One I’ll need to respond to.’
‘Why do you want the island so badly?’
His features shuttered, the grip of his glass tightening a fraction before he eased it. ‘My reasons are my own, Alexis.’
The mild warning that she was straying too far into personal territory echoed in the room. ‘You ask me whether I have a lover but I can’t ask you why you want a mostly uninhabited piece of land the size of Hyde Park?’
‘A question you still haven’t answered. Is there a lover standing in the way of me achieving my goals?’
Alexis wasn’t sure whether it was the way he said the word lover that sparked the sudden fire in her belly or if it was the effect of the churning in her stomach. Either way, she needed a few seconds to brush aside the tingling in her veins before she answered. ‘No, I don’t have a lover.’
He absorbed that with an unblinking stare for several seconds before giving an imperious nod. ‘Good to know.’
She nodded in return. ‘And since we’re taking liberties, is there anything standing in my way of being able to pull off an acceptable performance as your wife?’
His eyes narrowed, glinting with a wickedly thrilling fire before his expression turned bracingly enigmatic once more. ‘I haven’t taken a lover since I put a ring on your finger, Alexis.’
Before she could stop herself, a gasp left her throat. His declaration was thick, firm and low, the timbre of his voice reaching into a deep, secret place inside her and wrapping tight. It was almost as if he’d modulated his voice purely for that devastating effect. Struggling to clear her throat, she answered. ‘Then I foresee nothing but success,’ she said with a sangfroid she didn’t feel.
‘Good. With regard to the island, the only thing you need to concern yourself about is that, according to my sources, Georgios has stepped up his visits to Drakonisos. Which is a sure sign that he’s attempting to encroach on what’s mine.’ The implacable steel in his voice suggested that would happen over his dead body. ‘And Costas is allowing it.’
‘That’s the other reason you want to bring forward the visit?’
He nodded briskly. ‘Yes. So not only will you have Costas to convince, there’s a strong possibility that Georgios will be there, as well.’
Apprehension snaked through her. Pretending to be dwelling in wedded bliss under Costas’s shrewd gaze was a challenge, but now there was the possibility of another audience?
Think of Hope House. Of every child you’ll be helping.
‘How long do you think we’ll be there?’
‘Prepare yourself for a few weeks, maybe a couple of months.’
She gasped. ‘Months?’
His gaze turned hard. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were thinking of reneging on our agreement.’
Alexis was aware she had no choice. Not if she wanted to continue providing for Hope House. She’d read through the contract, knew he had a certain leeway she couldn’t object to. And really, what would she be protesting against? There was no fear that this would evolve into anything beyond the clinical requirement Christos sought from her. And she...she’d given up on love or companionship long ago. It was why she’d been thankful for the black and white safety of a legal agreement. She had nothing to fear, least of all from her emotions. And yet...
She rose, ignoring the quivering in her belly as Christos watched her. ‘I... I need to think about it.’
For the longest time, he stared at her, one long finger caressing the rim of his crystal glass. Then, with the litheness of a predatory cat, he rose, sauntered to the door and held it open for her. And as she passed him, he leaned in and whispered in her ear, ‘Think about it if you insist. But know that anything but a yes will be unacceptable.’
CHAPTER FOUR
THE NEXT THREE days were hell on her nerves. She’d barely been able to sleep on Monday night. Or any night since. Christos’s announcement that they were leaving for Drakonisos on Friday had merely exacerbated the unnerving sensation in her stomach. He hadn’t pressed her for an answer, although announcing their impending departure suggested he fully expected her to fall in line.
That she needed to get her game face on sooner rather than later.
And it’s not like you haven’t had a dress rehearsal...
&nbs
p; The snide inner voice made her cringe, and yet the truth blared starkly. She knew what unravelling in Christos’s arms felt like. And it wasn’t as if they’d need a full repeat performance of that episode to convince his grandfather and cousin, would they?
So why did her skin tighten with alarmed excitement each time she thought of it? Why did she hold her breath each time Christos spoke to her, anticipation beating wild wings in her stomach?
She really needed her head examined.
Hard on the heel of that thought, he materialised in front of her desk minutes before she planned to leave. As per usual this late in the day, his sleeves were folded back, displaying muscular, olive-skinned, hair-dusted forearms and those far too capable hands that occupied far too much of her attention.
To reverse the effect, she dragged her gaze upward, met steely grey eyes, which at that precise moment glinted with intense purpose.
‘There’s been a development. Demitri’s wife has left the family home and taken their son with her. Apparently, she’s moved in with her new lover in Athens.’ Again, the tight edge in his voice denoted an attachment to this case that tweaked her senses.
She rose and rounded her desk. ‘Is the boy okay?’
His nostrils flared as he straightened, and she saw the tension riding his shoulders. ‘No, he’s not. How can he be? He’s already called Demitri several times, begging to come home.’
Distress slashed through her, thankfully banking her chaotic nerves from before. ‘Is there anything we can do?’
His jaw clenched for a moment before he shook his head. ‘I’ve already instructed the partners in Athens to issue an injunction. But at the very least, the child will have to remain with his mother until after the weekend.’
The observation didn’t please him one iota. And Alexis wasn’t sure if his displeasure triggered something inside her. Before she could think better of it, she laid a hand on his arm. ‘She’s his mother. Surely she won’t let any harm come to him?’
His muscles tightened beneath her hold, his eyes turning stormy as they narrowed on her. ‘Her negligence where her child’s concerned is well-documented. It’s imperative that he’s removed from her influence sooner rather than later.’
‘This case means more to you than you’re letting on, doesn’t it?’ she ventured, recalling their talk on Monday night. As much as he tried to remain aloof, Christos cared.
His gaze dropped to the hand on his arm, a peculiar expression flitting across his face before he answered. ‘He’s my godson.’
That was news to her, but she couldn’t help probe deeper. ‘Is that all?’
For the longest time she thought he wouldn’t reply. He captured her hand, disengaged it from his arm but didn’t release it. He held her wrist, his expression almost bleak, but still hard and unforgiving. ‘I despise children being used as pawns when their parents decide they no longer wish to be together. Inevitably, it’s the child that gets the raw end of the deal.’
Maybe it was the warm hold on her that weakened her resistance, but she found herself confessing. ‘I know how that feels,’ she muttered, then immediately wanted to take the words back.
But his laser gaze had sharpened. ‘How?’
‘I grew up in an orphanage. I know exactly what it feels like to be unwanted.’
Enlightenment glinted in his eyes. ‘Hope House,’ he surmised, his voice low and deep.
The combination of his touch, her jangling emotions and the fact that she’d divulged a huge part of her life that drew pity from most people made her pull away.
He held on, his eyes narrowing on her face for a long contemplative moment before he set her free.
But stepping away did nothing to ease the quaking inside. She felt as if a layer of her skin had been stripped away, allowing him a glimpse of something she’d rather have kept cloaked.
‘Did you need anything else?’
He shoved his hand into his pocket, the motion stretching the material of his shirt across his torso and lighting even more confounding flames inside her.
‘I came to tell you we might have to make a detour to Athens tomorrow if the team come up against any resistance.’ His eyes narrowed on her face. ‘I’m assuming you’re still on board with accompanying me to Drakonisos?’
‘Do I have a choice?’ she asked, striving for a briskness that failed miserably.
He frowned. ‘Not if you don’t want to fall foul of the spirit of our agreement. Do you?’
Alexis swallowed, knowing she was caught. ‘No.’
He nodded briskly. ‘I’ll pick you up in the morning.’
* * *
Christos hung up the phone and suppressed another curse. To say this was proving to be the week from hell was an understatement.
While Monday’s loss had been a direct hit to his pride, the thought that he’d left the field open for Demitri’s son to become a pawn was more visceral. It struck much too close to home for his liking.
This was why he didn’t usually deal with such cases. Why the institution of marriage had been anathema to him since dragging himself from the harrowing battlefield of his parents’ divorce.
But regardless of how he’d felt about his friend’s too-good-to-be-true love proclamations and his subsequent rush into marriage, Christos had witnessed the genuine adoration in Demitri’s face seven years ago when he’d talked about his future with the woman of his dreams. Even more astounding was that Demitri was a man who’d been previously cynical and jaded about the state of matrimony second only to Christos himself.
But even then, Christos had kept his scepticism to himself, choosing to give his friend his blessing along with the benefit of his silent doubt.
It didn’t please him at all to be proven right that, beyond the first few weeks of a new liaison, all that remained were pathetic illusions waiting to turn to bitterness and acrimony.
And even then, as he was discovering lately, the initial spark of interest didn’t have to progress to the bedroom for its looming demise to become patently clear.
Now the same pattern that had shattered Christos’s childhood was being replayed in his best friend’s marriage.
Christos swivelled his desk chair in his private jet’s conference room around, but the view that met his gaze, like yesterday, remained abysmal to the point of depressing. They’d only just taken off, and while England had its charms, the weather wasn’t one of them.
He didn’t know whether it was talking to Kyrios that had triggered it but suddenly he yearned for the warmth and vibrancy of Drakonisos, the only place he’d truly called home. The place his greedy cousin was attempting to steal from him.
His harsh exhalation was punctuated by Alexis’s entry. A different type of disturbance took hold of his chest that had nothing to do with the plane’s mild turbulence, intensifying his unsettled mood. He wasn’t sure exactly what had happened on Monday night in his penthouse suite. To be honest, whatever it was had started in the conference room with the tiniest display of evidence that his able and talented assistant wasn’t superhuman after all.
For some absurd reason, seeing her less than perfectly put together, he’d wanted to explore that flaw. To dishevel her even more, pull her shirt tails from her tight, prim skirt, fully let down her slipping hair and mar her fading lipstick with his mouth.
The urge to push her buttons had been unstoppable. At the end of the night, once he’d put two doors between them and stood beneath a lukewarm shower, he’d relegated the aberration to the events of the day. Now, as he watched her walking across the carpet towards him, Christos wasn’t so sure.
To his recollection, his assistant had never worn a trouser suit to work or any work-related function. She favoured skirt suits or classy dresses with matching jackets.
Now she looked completely different.
Christos couldn’t drag his gaze from the body encas
ed in a pair of dark blue jeans, a shimmery navy sleeveless top and waist-length leather jacket. Her hair was caught up in its usual style, but the transformation was disconcertingly visceral enough to knock the breath out of him while firing spikes of heat to parts of his body he preferred not to call attention to in public.
He’d never bothered to categorise which female body part he most favoured, but, seeing Alexis’s denim-clad behind as she turned to shut the door, he was slammed with a need so acute his fist clenched on his thigh. He knew how those luscious twin globes would feel in his hands. He wanted to knead them again, leverage their delicious weight as he dragged her into his body until those breasts were pressed into his chest. He wanted to drag his nose along her sleek neck, investigate whether she’d worn that rose-scented perfume tonight or the one that made her smell like the lightest ocean breeze.
His gaze traced her skin to her wrist, the memory of her frantic pulse beating beneath her silky flesh gliding to centre stage in his mind. Now, like then, the stirring in his groin announced a new dimension to his relationship with his assistant. Because she didn’t look at him with stars in her eyes, with bated breath and false promises that could never be realistically fulfilled? Because she didn’t throw around words he didn’t want to hear, like companionship and relationship and, heaven forbid, love?
Ne, perhaps that was it. His parents had uttered words like that once upon a time and look where they’d ended up. Look where he’d ended up, a pawn between two merciless predators, uncaring that they were tearing him to shreds.
He drew his gaze from the curve of her hip, past the slim watch and silver bracelet that circled her wrists. By the time she stopped in front of him, he’d smashed down hard on the unwanted physical reactions.
‘Is there any news about Demitri’s case?’ She was the epitome of professionalism, with her tablet and the electronic pen and perfectly coiffed hair.
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