by Sarah Morgan
Grace had always loved the celebrity that came from being a vital part of the world of the rich and famous. She’d loved the buzz that came from being courted by the fabulously wealthy who needed to be fabulously beautiful as well. She’d wielded the power to change lives and fortunes in her hands. She’d been a goddess to them!
And now the scandal of Grace’s undoing was causing shockwaves that were reverberating throughout Hollywood’s celebrity circles—not to mention causing a great deal of appointment-rescheduling.
Thank God she was out of it for now. Thank God the clinic was closed and she could step back from this crazy industry. Because this wasn’t what she’d had in mind when she’d come to LA. She’d wanted to make a difference for good, to help people make the most of their lives. And yet when she’d joined Grace’s clinic all that had changed.
Sure, for a while it had been exhilarating, exciting, and she’d loved the pace of life and the challenge. But she hadn’t been helping the people who needed it most, and if she hadn’t been working with her very own heroine, planning for the future of the foundation, surely she would have thought about moving on.
The foundation. What a joke! There was no foundation. Not the way she’d wanted. There was a fund, to be sure. But just how Grace had planned to make use of that fund…
A noise behind her alerted her to Loukas’s presence. She turned to see him standing stock-still in the doorway, his eyes calmly surveying her. She shivered as his cold eyes chilled the air around her. How long had he been there, watching her?
‘Are you all right?’ he asked, his voice flat and almost lifeless.
‘Is that why you brought me here? To ensure that I was all right?’ she responded, half wishing that he had, half hoping that he might have acted out of at least a modicum of concern for her welfare, even after everything that had happened.
It was insane, and yet it also seemed so important. Could he care for her? Just a little? After what they’d shared, surely there was something, some tiny residual shred of feeling for her?
‘I brought you here so the reporters can’t find you. What else?’
What else indeed? A bucket of cold water couldn’t have doused her pathetic hopes more effectively. She had been insane to even think it. After all, right from the start he’d never acted out of concern for her. He’d only ever wanted her so he could use her against Grace.
All thoughts of wanting to apologise to him evaporated in an instant in the cold, hard light of his attitude.
His face tight, his voice sounding strained, he continued before she had a chance to get her simmering thoughts in order. ‘I’ve put some fresh linen in the guestroom. I’ll get someone to pick up some clothes for you in the morning. Goodnight.’
Then he was gone.
‘Just how long do you plan on keeping me here?’
Loukas looked up from his newspaper, replacing a cup of coffee in its saucer with a low clatter. Jade was pacing behind the wide serving bench that separated the kitchen from the living area, her hands busy with each other as she paced, and turned, and paced some more. This was only her second morning at the beach house, and yet already her face looked tight and drawn.
Then he let himself do what he’d been avoiding doing all of yesterday, and let his eyes skim over the rest of her. Her curves were there, under her summer cut-offs and halter top, but she seemed, more angular in places. She’d lost weight.
He frowned. That was the last thing he wanted. ‘Come and eat some breakfast. You look gaunt.’
‘I’m not hungry.’
‘You need to eat something.’
‘How long?’ She stopped pacing and turned to face him, her eyes pleading while at the same time resolute. ‘The police said I was free to go. So how does that give you the right to kidnap me and lock me away?’
He raised his cup and took another slug of coffee. He needed the caffeine after two nights of trying—and failing miserably—to sleep half a dozen rooms away from where she lay. How many times had he imagined he heard her soft footfall coming down the hall? How often had he dozed off, half dreaming, half imagining that she was in his arms again, only to wake and find them empty or wrapped around twisted sheets?
And how many times had he been tempted to take those few short steps himself?
But that would serve no purpose now. She was only here so that he could protect Olympia. Nothing more.
But he didn’t know how long it would take. All he knew was that already it seemed too long. So instead he asked, ‘Have you read today’s papers?’
She shook her head, tucking strands of loose hair behind her ears. She hadn’t tied it back this morning, and the ends dusted the line of her bare neck and shoulders. Something inside him clenched, and he forced himself to drag his eyes away from the sensual marriage of bare skin and whispering hair.
‘I can’t bear to read any of it.’
‘Mayor Goldfinch has been arrested. Seems he was hooking up with Della-Bosca to have access to the foundation’s fund. They both wanted a slice of that pie. It looks like the end of that career.’
‘Bastards! Both of them!’ she said, so emphatically that he looked up in surprise. But jail was nothing more than they both deserved. And to think she’d felt sorry for Grace when she’d discovered what kind of man he really was!
‘How could they steal money away from children’s hopes and dreams like that?’ she asked. ‘How could they do that? And why did he even need to? He’s already got a huge property development fortune.’
‘Not any more. He’s been losing money for years, living in debt and relying on cash flow, waiting for another big success to take him out of it. Della-Bosca was good at masking what she’d been doing with the foundation funds, but not that good. Once he found out about her misappropriation of funds, he demanded equal access to keep his mouth shut. Between the two of them the foundation didn’t stand a chance.’
He watched her curiously for a few moments, and she wondered what he was thinking. No doubt he believed that she should be in jail too.
And then she remembered what she’d done that awful morning, before Grace’s house of cards had collapsed around her, when she’d called Loukas demanding he pay up his promised one-million-dollar donation and keep his promise to the children.
Her eyes fell shut and she breathed deep on a long blink. Oh, God, no wonder everything was such a mess. She had forgotten completely about his money.
‘Loukas,’ she said, licking her lips, buying herself time as if it might find her some courage, ‘I’m not happy with how you treated me—how you used me like you did. But there’s one thing I need to apologise for. About the foundation.’ She paused for a few moments then. ‘You made that donation like you said, didn’t you?’
‘I told you I had.’
‘And they stole it—along with the rest of the money?’
‘So it appears.’
‘Then I’m sorry. I was angry when I called you. I thought you hadn’t paid…’
‘You don’t need to apologise,’ he said, rising from his chair and turning towards the windows, hands on hips. ‘It was your call that made me decide to confront Della-Bosca myself. That’s why I was there. That’s why I was lucky enough to find Olympia.’
And that was why he’d found Jade standing over his sister next to a madwoman, and looking for all the world as if she had been the one intending to operate. Her throat tightened. ‘You know…I wasn’t…’
‘I know,’ he said, his voice thick and strained, as if he was trying to keep it under control. And looked away, as if he would rather change the topic completely than continue this conversation.
Her tongue found her lips again, fighting a losing battle to keep them moist. She needed to press on. There were still more things she needed to say, whether or not he wanted to hear them. They had to be said before she changed her mind.
‘And I’m sorry for not believing all those things you said about Grace too. You were right.’
He spun arou
nd in an instant and rounded the table towards her, ramming his fist into the air, his face masked with fury.
‘Don’t you think it’s too late for that now? My sister could have been scarred for life, or worse—she could have been killed by that lunatic! And yet you did nothing—nothing!—to stop her!’
She took a step back, blinking at the sudden speed of his approach. He was right. She had done nothing. And it hardly seemed to matter now that it was because she had believed nothing could possibly be wrong.
He’d been such a champion for his sister, fighting both to save her and to avenge his late fiancée. What would it feel like to have someone fight so hard for you, to defend you so stridently, to care for you that much?
Did his sister know how lucky she was?
‘H…How is Pia now? Do you know?’
He stopped, and dragged in some air, his fist slowly melting back into a hand as he battled to get his breathing under control. ‘She’s at home. Stella is looking after her—and Kurt, though I don’t know how much good he’ll be. I’m just hoping it will be a long while before she attempts any cosmetic surgery again.’
She smiled wanly. ‘I’m glad she’s okay. She seems a nice kid.’
His eyes hardened to stone. ‘Exactly,’ he hissed, moving closer to her. ‘A kid. And yet you were prepared to let that monster cut into her.’
‘It wasn’t like that.’
‘No? It sure looked like it to me.’
‘I even tried to talk Pia—Olympia—out of it. But she wouldn’t listen to me. She was determined to go ahead with the surgery.’
He snorted his disbelief. ‘Don’t give me that!’
‘It’s the truth!’
‘You can’t make things any better for yourself, you know, so don’t even bother trying.’
She swallowed back the lump in her throat, fighting the prick of tears that surged up at the injustice. Why had she even bothered to apologise to this brute? He wasn’t prepared to accept anything from her, let alone the truth. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘You’ve never believed anything I’ve said. Why should what I say today be any different?’
‘You’re not the victim in all this, so don’t make out like you are.’
‘I want to leave,’ she said, immediately gritting her teeth together in an effort to keep a hold over the burgeoning bubble of unshed tears that was swelling by the second. ‘I’m going.’
‘You’re not going anywhere!’
‘You can’t keep me here!’
‘Just watch me.’
‘There’s no need. You don’t need to protect me any more.’
‘You think I’m protecting you?’
‘What do you mean? Isn’t that why you brought me here? To protect me from the reporters?’
His only response was to blink.
‘I don’t care about the reporters,’ she said. ‘I can handle them myself.’
‘That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘How much do you think they’ll give you for your story? I think they’d pay a fortune to get the goods from you—probably enough to tide you over while you search for some other laboratory to perform your sick experiments.’
‘I don’t believe you! You really think I’d sell my version of events to the highest bidder?’
His eyes dropped away. ‘I can’t afford to take any chances. So far the Demakis name has escaped being tainted by this scandal. But if someone were to give the press something adverse or embarrassing…’
‘And you think I would? That’s why you’re holding me prisoner here—because I might lift some dirt on your precious family? So how long do you think you can keep me here—how long do you plan on keeping me silent? A week? A month? For ever?’
He slammed his fist against the wall. ‘I don’t want Olympia hurt any more than she has been!’
‘And you don’t believe me when I say I’d do nothing to hurt Pia? But why should that come as a surprise? Ever since we’ve met you’ve been only too happy to misjudge me. All the way along you’ve been happy to assume the worst.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘I’m saying you’ve never chosen to believe me over your own warped preconceived notions. Even when they’re proved wrong, you still won’t accept it. You assumed I was in with Grace from the start. You decided I was just as guilty. Were you disappointed when the police didn’t lock me away? Would it have been easier for you if they’d kept me behind bars and thrown away the key—saved you the trouble?’
‘Stop it!’
‘Why should I? Why should I do anything you say? It’s not as if you’re the bastion of what’s right and true in the world. Look at the way you treated me. You used me—lied to me—tricked me into sleeping with you so that I might spill what I knew about Grace. Well, the joke is on you, Loukas, because it was all for nothing. I didn’t know anything. You went to all the trouble of bedding me for nothing! All that effort—totally wasted!’
And then he was upon her, his breath harsh on her face, the drumbeat of his heart a mere few inches away.
‘I wouldn’t call it a complete waste.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SUDDENLY his lips were on hers, hungry, punishing, his tongue seeking entry, his hands seemingly everywhere, ripping at her halter and her pants.
And the taste of Loukas in her mouth, the feel of his hands upon her, his body pressed next to hers was almost enough to make her forget what they’d been arguing about. Make her want to melt into his passionate embrace. Give herself up to his mind, and body-shattering onslaught.
Almost.
Summoning a strength of body and mind from somewhere, from the only place deep within that was untouched by the desire to let herself go, she pushed him away.
‘No!’
Her hands flush on his chest, her breathing rough and edgy, she battled to stay calm. ‘This didn’t solve anything before, and it will solve even less now!’
She pushed with all her remaining strength, but the effort to shove him away had drained her and his hands felt like manacles on her arms.
‘I don’t want this!’
‘I know you do,’ he insisted, pressing the weight of his chest against her hands, his mouth seeking her lips once more.
‘No. You’re wrong,’ she said, turning her face away. ‘And, just like usual, you can’t accept you could be wrong about anything.’
‘The only thing I was wrong about was thinking I could have enough of you. I want you, Jade. I want to make love to you. And I know that that’s what you want too.’
‘I want you to make love to me? I’d have to be some kind of mad woman to want someone who has accused me of all the things you charged me with. And you’d have to be some kind of loser to want to make love with someone you have such a low opinion of. What was it you called me—a fake? So fake I can’t see straight—isn’t that how you put it?
‘And yet you now insist you want to make love to me. How does that work, when all you see is someone who’s been put together by some crazy Frankenstein? Someone where you can’t tell which bits are real and which are fake? How can you bear to even touch me now that you don’t have to—now that your mission is completed?’
Dark emotion scudded like storm clouds across his eyes before he pulled himself back and suddenly released her. He surged away, his fingers tangled in knots behind his head.
‘I had reason to think what I did. Even if some of my assumptions were misplaced.’
‘What was that?’ she asked, pushing herself away from the wall behind him.
‘I said maybe I was hasty. Maybe I was too eager to colour you with Della-Bosca’s brush.’
‘I’m not sure I’m hearing this. You’re not actually admitting you were wrong? You’re not actually admitting that you misjudged me on yet another count?’
‘Is it so hard to believe? The work you do, the way you look—how likely is it to be natural?’
She nodded. ‘How likely, indeed?’
<
br /> ‘I called you a fake,’ he said. ‘But I can admit when I’m wrong. I just didn’t believe anyone who looked as good as you couldn’t be one of your own clinic’s best customers. I couldn’t believe you wouldn’t be living off a staple diet of surgery and Botox.’
She gave a short bitter laugh. ‘Botox? Are you serious?’
And then it dawned on him. No wonder she looked so vital and alive! It was because, unlike just about every other woman in Hollywood, her facial muscles hadn’t been rendered immobile by the injection of a paralysing agent. She was a natural beauty who didn’t need anyone’s help to look that way. And he’d judged her unfairly because of it.
He shook his head. ‘What can I say? I just couldn’t believe anyone as beautiful as you could have been born that way—especially working in your profession.’
‘Well,’ she said, adding a brittle laugh, ‘if it makes you feel any better, I wasn’t born this way.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You once asked me to deny that I’d ever had a cosmetic procedure.’
‘Jade, I—’
‘The thing is, I didn’t deny it.’
‘You didn’t have to. I was out of line.’
‘No, I didn’t have to. But that’s not the reason I didn’t answer.’
‘What are you saying?’
She looked at him for a second. ‘Wait,’ she said, before moving across the room to where her handbag lay on the benchtop. She pulled out her purse and flipped it open, tugging something out from one of the pockets.
‘Look,’ she said, holding it out towards him.
‘Jade, I…’
‘Take it.’
He took it and looked down. It was an old, battered photograph, worn at the edges. A photograph of a young girl, her face cast down, her eyes hiding from the camera. But there was a red mark on the photo, covering half her face, so the picture wasn’t clear—he couldn’t make out who it was.
And then he gave a hiss as it hit him.
The mark wasn’t on the photograph.
