by Lynne Graham
Rosie lay in bed that night trying not to be secretly glad that Alex Kolovos had failed to take the bait with Zoe. Zoe was very attractive and she wouldn’t have said no to a drink. In fact, Zoe mightn’t have said no to a great number of things. Was that what the gorgeous dark Greek had been hoping for? she wondered wryly. A spot of after-hours sex with no strings attached? What else?
‘You stick to your usual routine tonight,’ Zoe told Rosie before they even started their shift the next night. ‘If tall, dark and very handsome annoys you, stand up for yourself and tell him so. I never took you for a shrinking violet, Rosie.’
Her cheeks burning from the sting of that reproof, Rosie worked faster than usual. It was a Friday night and she would not be back in the building until Monday evening. She passed by Alex’s office, saw his proud dark head lift, turned her face away again, determined not to stare. But, oh, how she wanted to!
Alexius tracked her down to the staff kitchen where he had seen her co-worker having a cup of tea the night before. It was eight. He was fed up with hanging round the office and exasperated by her avoidance of him. He was even wondering if she had some sixth sense protecting her, warning her that he was not to be trusted. She was right. He had deliberately left a wad of banknotes lying on the carpet below the desk he was using. It was a crude test of her honesty but the best he could come up with at short notice.
‘How’s the work going?’ Alexius enquired lazily, seeing her perched on a stool clutching a mug.
Consternation at his sudden appearance almost made Rosie drop her mug. He seemed to tower over her like a storm cloud, making her more than usually aware of her small build. Her hand shook slightly and tea slopped out, staining her tunic.
‘Be careful,’ Alexius instructed, lifting the mug from her and setting it safely aside, extending the kitchen roll on the counter to her.
‘You startled me!’ Rosie tore off a sheet and dabbed her tunic dry.
‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured, bright mercury eyes locked to her evasive gaze.
Rosie reddened. She was trying so hard not to look at that handsome face, but she could visualise him accurately even when he wasn’t physically present. ‘Do you work late every night?’ she asked to fill the buzzing silence.
‘Most nights,’ he admitted truthfully.
‘I suppose you get overtime,’ Rosie assumed, colliding with his intent gaze, marvelling at the length of his black eyelashes while feeling an arrow of wicked heat pierce low in her pelvis. ‘Either that or you’re overworked—’
‘I’m a workaholic,’ Alexius imparted, studying her moist pink mouth, resisting the urge to reach out, touch it with his own, learn if she tasted as good as she looked. His powerful physique was rigid with self-discipline, the line of his jaw hard.
‘Oh …’ Rosie reached for her tea again and sipped, limpid green eyes trained on his lean bronzed visage, loving the angular masculine contours at cheekbone and brow before suddenly recollecting herself and sliding off the stool as if she had been burnt. ‘I’d better get back to work,’ she told him abruptly and brushed straight past him. Seconds later he heard the floor polisher switching on again.
Taken aback by her abrupt departure, Alexius swore softly beneath his breath. She was too wary to take the bait and respond to him. Someone had hurt her, possibly even abused her. His mouth tightened. But what did that have to do with him? Why should he care? If she took the money from below the desk, he would never see her again.
Grateful Alex Kolovos had not returned to the office he used, Rosie got stuck into cleaning it, working faster than her usual pace, eager to get home and start the weekend. She had coursework to complete but, other than that, she was free.
Something jammed in the vacuum cleaner and she groaned out loud, switching it off and getting down on her knees to investigate. She couldn’t believe it when she saw a fifty pound banknote entangled and the edge of what appeared to be another. She had to return to the trolley to get a screwdriver and open up the vacuum cleaner to extract the crushed remains of what looked like an enormous sum of money. By then she was filthy with dust and cross as tacks. Where on earth had the banknotes come from? She couldn’t just leave them lying on the desk. Brushing herself down and furious that someone could have been so careless with their cash when there was every chance that the cleaners could be blamed for the disappearance of the money, she stood up and hoped that Alexius had not yet left the office. She stalked down to the conference room that she had seen him use before when he was making phone calls and entered, relieved for once to see him lounging back against the table as he talked to someone on the phone.
‘Is this yours?’ Rosie demanded, tossing the roll of banknotes—now a little ragged round the edges—down on the polished surface of the table. ‘It must’ve been on the floor. It got stuck in the vacuum cleaner—it might have broken it! It certainly won’t have done it any good,’ she condemned sharply.
Alexius almost laughed out loud at her annoyance. She was fizzing with rage, all five tiny feet of her, green eyes glittering like gemstones in her defensive little face. ‘It’s mine. Thank you,’ he said quietly.
‘Don’t be so careless!’ she told him thinly. ‘If that money had gone missing, the cleaners might have been accused of theft!’
‘Your honesty does you proud,’ Alexius asserted softly, thinking that he could surely now with good conscience tell Socrates to go ahead and pursue the acquaintance.
‘That is so patronising!’ Rosie shot back at him furiously, amazed at the amount of anger bubbling up through her in response to his insouciant attitude to the situation that might have developed had she not found and returned the money he had misplaced. ‘I may be poor but that doesn’t mean I’m more likely to be dishonest! You’re very prejudiced! There are thieves in every walk of life.’
Far from amused by the cleaner deciding that she had the right to shout at him, Alexius surveyed her with eyes suddenly as cold and wintry as black ice. ‘You’ve had your say and I respect your honesty, even if I didn’t like your mode of delivery. Now … leave,’ he commanded. ‘I have calls to make.’
Rosie was stunned by the transformation in him and incredulous that she could have lost control to the extent of raising her voice and being unnecessarily rude. She turned on her heel, thought about apologising and decided that it would be a waste of time as she recalled that chilly look of detachment and enormous authority in his searing gaze. It was as if he had just frozen in front of her into someone else. She had crossed boundaries she should have respected and offended him. She was relieved that she had finished her shift because she literally couldn’t wait to get out of the building.
‘Are you sure that you don’t mind me taking the van home with me tonight?’ Zoe pressed as the two women pushed the trolley through the ground-floor foyer.
‘No, as I said earlier, I’ll catch a bus,’ Rosie responded absently.
‘Thanks, Rosie,’ her dark-haired companion remarked as the two women loaded the cleaning equipment into the back of the van. ‘Mum hasn’t seen her sister in ages and I’ll be able to drop her off early tomorrow and pick her up again on Sunday afternoon.’
‘Vanessa never minds as long as you get the van back in time for Monday,’ Rosie warned her co-worker as the brunette closed up the van and climbed into the driver’s seat.
‘Why are you so quiet?’ Zoe asked suddenly. ‘Did something happen tonight between you and that guy?’
‘Nothing,’ Rosie lied as lightly as she could.
And it was nothing, she told herself. She had met a guy who attracted her to an unbearable degree but nothing had happened and that was as it should be. Ships that passed and all that, better that than a messy collision such as her mother had specialised in. But she could still see him back in that conference room studying her as if she were a particularly repulsive beetle below a microscope, something utterly beneath him, his distaste and antipathy palpable. That had hurt, that had driven deep. She had shouted and he had take
n offence and she couldn’t blame him for that, could she? She had found his money and he had thanked her for her honesty. What more could he have done? She shrugged off the feeling that a dark cloud had fallen over her.
CHAPTER TWO
ROSIE was walking towards the bus stop when a large bulky shape stepped out of the shadows cast by the tall office block into her path. ‘Rosie? I’ve been waiting for you for ages,’ he complained.
What little was left of Rosie’s earlier good mood sank like a stone. It was Jason, her former flatmate Mel’s boyfriend. Blond and blue-eyed, he had the large square physique of a keen body-builder and his sheer width gave him an undeniable air of menace. She was annoyed that he had the nerve to approach her when she had already made her lack of interest plain. As she thrust up her chin in challenge a surprisingly fierce light brightened her eyes. ‘What are you doing here? Why would you be waiting for me?’ she asked accusingly.
‘Because I wanted to see you, talk to you … that’s all,’ Jason told her, his formidable jaw set at a bullish angle.
‘But I don’t want to talk to you,’ Rosie responded tartly and attempted to walk on past him.
Jason closed a hand the size of a giant meat hook round her forearm to hold her fast. ‘I deserve a chance to talk to you—’
‘Why the heck would you think that you deserve anything?’ Rosie demanded in angry rebuttal, her temper rising at his stubborn persistence. She was tired and fed up and well aware that she had an early start the next morning. The last thing she needed in the mood she was in was to be confronted by the man who had already caused considerable trouble in her private life. ‘Thanks to your selfishness, I lost my friendship with Mel and my home!’
‘Mel and I have broken up. I’m a free man again,’ Jason informed her smugly. ‘That’s why I’m here.’
‘I’m not interested … Let go of me, Jason!’ Rosie exclaimed impatiently as she attempted to yank herself free of his confining hold.
‘Simmer down, Rosie. As I said, all I want to do is have a little chat with you—’
‘Let go of me!’ Rosie shouted at him furiously, outraged that he was still holding her against her will. ‘Right now!’
‘Let go of her.’ The intervention came without warning, couched in quiet but surprisingly carrying tones.
Jason flipped round, dragging Rosie with him, the hand he had clasped to her arm tightening painfully. ‘What the hell’s it got to do with you?’ he demanded pugnaciously.
Rosie stared in disconcertion at Alex Kolovos. He must have seen what was happening as he was leaving the building. Jason’s face was livid, his stance openly threatening.
‘Let go of Rosie,’ Alexius instructed curtly, his face hard as granite in the street light.
‘Don’t get involved in this,’ Rosie urged, trying once again to pull free of Jason’s grip.
Although coming to the rescue of a damsel in distress was not his style, Alexius experienced not an ounce of hesitation. He had seen the encounter as he emerged from the building and had known that he had to intervene. She was clearly in trouble.
‘Yeah, that’s right … don’t get involved or you’ll be sorry!’ Jason shouted in a rising rage, at the sound of which Rosie paled and shivered in the cool night air. ‘This is a private conversation—’
‘Not when you’re manhandling a woman,’ Alexius interrupted in a tone of undisguised condemnation.
Rigid with raging tension, Jason swore and took a violent swing at Alexius. A gasp of dismay escaped Rosie but, faster than she would have believed possible, Alexius ducked the incoming fist and punched Jason squarely in the solar plexus. Winded, Jason reeled back a step in shock at the hit and thrust Rosie away from him with a brutal shove so that he could more easily move in to attack again. As Rosie lost her footing and went flying across the pavement with bruising force a cry of pain was wrenched from her lips. Almost simultaneously, she heard a shout, Jason’s roar of fury and finally the sound of running feet.
In the space of a minute, Alex Kolovos was bending over her and raising her up. ‘Don’t try to move,’ he urged, already noting the blood that had seeped through the legs of her cotton uniform trousers on which she had gone skidding across the pavement. ‘Something might be broken.’
‘Don’t think so … it just hurts,’ Rosie was suddenly painfully conscious of the ache of her bruises and the sting of the abrasions inflicted on her legs and arms. She grimaced, feeling ridiculously like a child who had fallen down, reckoning that the skinned knees and elbows she could feel had borne the brunt of the damage.
He was talking urgently in Greek into a mobile phone and her brow furrowed in discomfiture until he switched back to English. ‘I’m taking you to a doctor.’
Instantly, Rosie tried to sit up on her own. ‘That’s not necessary—’
But the sudden movement made her head swim and she felt horribly queasy and just as fast she rested back again on the strength of his supporting arm while struggling to master her body’s unfamiliar weakness. She thought she would die of shame if she threw up in front of him.
‘What happened?’
‘Having met more resistance than he had bargained on, your assailant ran off. You will have to make a complaint against him with the police.’
‘I don’t want to call the police about Jason,’ Rosie said, knowing that she didn’t want the fuss or the complications of getting the law involved but, beneath it, helplessly concerned that Jason might make another attempt to corner her when she was alone. What the heck did Jason want from her?
A car drew up beside them. Alexius vaulted upright as the driver jumped out to yank open the rear door. Alexius crouched down to lift Rosie and was shocked by how very little she weighed in his arms, deciding that below the concealment of her clothes she had to be pure skin and bone. He fed her slender body carefully into the back seat of the car so that she could continue to lie down. He climbed in beside her. The door closed. The car moved off.
Still fighting the queasiness in her stomach, Rosie glanced at Alex Kolovos, only to discover that he was frowning down at her. Light eyes bright as stars in his taut, darkly handsome face surveyed her with none of the chill that had confounded her in the conference room, and a flock of butterflies was unleashed in the pit of her stomach. When he looked at her like that, she found him irresistible and the reaction unnerved her. She was terrified that she was behaving like a teenager with a bad crush; her gaze skimmed off him to examine the interior of the car in which she lay. ‘Whose car is this? Who’s driving?’ she asked in dismay.
‘It’s my car. One of the security guards brought it and offered to drive so that I could keep an eye on you.’
‘If you’re so convinced that I need to see a doctor why didn’t you call an ambulance?’ she prompted curiously.
‘I knew this would be faster and more efficient,’ Alexius responded smoothly. ‘And you do need to see a doctor. You were assaulted.’
Rosie lowered her eyelashes again, feeling too weak and nauseous to fight him. Even if he was no longer freezing her out, he was domineering and she had never liked men of that ilk. Jason’s ilk, she labelled ruefully. Her one-time flatmate, Mel, had gloried in what she had seen as Jason’s essential masculinity until she saw the downside of his unpredictable moods and rages, not to mention his habit of making passes at other women whenever the notion took him. But it wasn’t fair to compare Alex Kolovos to Jason, Rosie thought guiltily. He was virtually a stranger yet he had risked life and limb to free her from Jason, which astounded her, for strangers usually put their own welfare first.
‘Did Jason hurt you?’ she whispered, wondering what had happened in the struggle that must have taken place after she had gone careening across the pavement.
Alexius rubbed his hard jaw line thoughtfully. ‘He got in one blow before I knocked him down. I was on the boxing team at school. I will have a bruise, nothing more …’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Rosie muttered. ‘I didn’t know he was going to be
waiting for me. I wasn’t expecting to ever see him again—’
‘Is he your ex-boyfriend?’
‘My goodness, no! I would never get involved with someone like him. He was dating a friend of mine.’
Alexius watched her succulent pink lips compress on that closing remark, which explained nothing. He wondered what the real story was, whether she had encouraged that Neanderthal, who, unless he was very much mistaken, was pumped up both physically and mentally on steroids. He studied her. Her wealth of pale hair was spilling off the edge of the seat in a silken swathe, the big green eyes that dominated her triangular face dark with anxiety. She was still trembling with shock. She was so tiny and vulnerable that he was tempted to put his arms round her to offer comfort. But the very thought of such an unnatural urge shook Alexius to his very depths. When had he ever offered comfort to a woman? Why would he even want to touch her in that way? Sex was one thing and always acceptable, comfort and its complications, something else altogether. It was fitting that he had saved her from further harm and would now ensure that she received medical attention, but there was no need of any more personal element in their dealings. He had already decided to recommend her to her grandfather. While the way she had addressed him earlier had angered him, she was honest and forthright and a hard worker. The next time he saw her she would be in Greece with Socrates. When he had told her to leave, the strangest bad mood had settled over him at the awareness that the masquerade was at an end: he should be rejoicing that the job was done.
The car came to a halt outside a brightly lit town house in an imposing Georgian square. Rosie frowned while Alexius sprang out and turned to scoop her up into his arms before she had the chance to object. ‘I can walk!’ Rosie protested. ‘Where on earth are we? I thought you were taking me to Casualty.’
‘Where we would wait for hours before receiving attention. Dmitri Vakros is a doctor and a friend. He is just finishing his evening surgery,’ Alex explained.
