Playing By His Rules
Playing By His Rules
https://amzn.to/2QyVKdl
Glenda Horsfall
Chapter One
Shit. Shit. Shit! Xander couldn’t believe it. It was bad enough that the papers had published the story, but for it to come out now, when he was visiting his sister, was worse than bad luck. Sophia was going to kill him for bringing bedlam to her home.
He paced his brother-in-laws study like a caged animal. His cell phone had started ringing in the early hours of the morning; the newshounds were out for blood. He knew it wouldn’t be long before they tracked him to Sophia’s home. He wasn’t concerned for himself, Christ he couldn’t give a damn what they thought about him, but he needed to make plans to get away from his sister’s home before the paparazzi realized he was here and started camping on his sister’s doorstep. Getting away from here would ensure that the paparazzi now hounding him did not inadvertently get photographs of his niece and nephews. Therefore, he needed to remove himself from the vicinity of the family home as soon as possible. Sophia would never forgive him if his actions brought unwanted attention to her family. There had been numerous high profile kidnappings in Greece, and they had made the decision not to allow photographs of the children to appear in the press.
Deep in thought, he was less than cordial when his cell phone rang yet again. A quick glance at the display ascertained it was Giles, his security chief, based in Athens.
“What now?” He snapped, his tone harsh.
“We have a situation here–”
“Well, handle it. That’s what I pay you for!” Shit! He couldn’t hide out here and have his sister’s life disrupted.
“Look Giles, you’ll have to excuse me, it’s been quite a night and I’ve had no sleep.” He continued in a more even tone, “Whatever is going on down there, just sort it. You have carte blanche to take whatever action you deem necessary.”
“Very well, Mr. Doumas,” Giles came back sounding his normal controlled self, “I’ll order extra security for the house and have Mrs. Stephanos transferred to her sister’s.”
Damn, it looked like he wasn’t going to return to his Athens home either. According to Giles, the press were already camped on the doorstep there and his elderly housekeeper had been forced to lock herself inside the house. What a bloody mess!
“I have a few things to tie up here before I leave,” Xander returned, “but I want you to send the helicopter to Santorini to pick me up at noon. Have the jet on standby at the airport. I’ll let you know later where we’re headed so that the pilot can file a flight plan.”
“Very well, Sir.”
Feeling relieved now that he had arranged to remove himself from Santorini, he sat down heavily in the large leather chair behind the desk. Once again, he cast his eyes over the computer screen where he had pulled up copies of the newspaper articles published that morning. Just the sight of the newspaper headlines was enough to have his temper spiking. “Billionaire with Perverted Tastes” and “CEO with Kinky Sex Life” were two of the milder ones. The accompanying pictures which showed the inside of his private play room along with a photo of his ex-girlfriend, nude and tied to the St Andrews Cross, had him cursing as he thumped the desk in frustration. He hoped the thump he had inflicted on the table had not woken the household. Nursing his aching knuckles, which would surely show bruises within a few hours, he cursed Marie under his breath. The bitch would not get away with this. He would make her pay for the havoc she had brought down upon his head. He had no doubt that Marie herself had provided the pictures because she had threatened to go to the media.
He wished now he had taken her blackmail attempt more seriously. He really hadn’t believed she would have the nerve to go through with a ‘kiss and tell all’ story. Now look at the bloody mess he was in. What was worse was that gut instinct told him it was going to get worse before it got better.
Outside, all still appeared quiet, but he had taken the additional precaution of calling in extra security to patrol the perimeter of his sister’s property. Dawn would be breaking soon, and tired as he was, he still had a lot to do before noon, when the helicopter would be arriving to pick him up.
He spent the next hour on the phone putting his plans into action. He didn’t think twice about getting his lawyer out of bed in the middle of the night, giving him terse instructions with regard to the newspaper editors and his ex-girlfriend. They would all be sorry that they had crossed him. By the time he finished with them they would wish they had never heard his name.
He looked up as the study door opened and Georgiou entered carrying a couple of large coffee mugs.
“I heard you up and about. Problems?” He crossed the room to place a welcome cup of coffee on the desk in front of him.
“Sorry I disturbed you. Is Sophia–”
“Sophia is still asleep,” Georgiou cut in, “and by the look of you I would say that’s a good thing. You look like hell. What’s going on?”
“That!” He pointed towards the computer screen, before twisting it around in order that Georgiou could read it from the opposite side of the desk. He watched the emotions flicker across his brother-in-law’s face.
Xander remained silent as his brother-in-law read the articles, occasionally stopping to glance across at him. He did not have to say anything, the looks he threw Xander’s way spoke volumes. His eyes widened and his eyebrows rose as he glanced between him and the computer screen, as though he could not believe what he was reading. His face occasionally broke into a spontaneous grin as he cast Xander a quick sideways glance. It was obvious to Xander that his brother-in-law found his predicament amusing.
“Well, well. I never would have believed it, you always seemed so straightforward.” Georgiou grinned, before he continued, “Never would have had you down for one to play kinky games.” He held up his hands in an open gesture. “Not that it bothers me. What you do behind closed doors is your own business. However, I don’t think your sister is going to be too amused when she sees the papers.”
Looking over at him, Xander grimaced as he raked his fingers back through his hair, “Tell me about it, that’s one conversation I’m not looking forward to. She’s going to give me hell!”
‘Hell’ was an understatement. When Sophia finally tracked him down in the study, she looked like she wanted to commit murder. He was, most definitely, not her favorite person at the moment. That shook Xander to his core. Her look of disappointment made his stomach churn, and he held himself rigid as he struggled not to turn away from her. The guilt he felt at disappointing her gnawed away at his insides until he felt sick. He was used to Sophia looking at him with something akin to hero worship. The look of disdain on her face hurt far more than he could have imagined. He held his breath and braced for her attack.
“What have I told you in the past about the types of girlfriends you choose?” Christ, she sounded more like his mother than his younger sister, not surprising really, as she had tried to mother him ever since they had lost their parents in an accident when she was just seventeen. Xander had been twenty-one at the time and had become the head of their small family, taking guardianship of his sister and raising her as his parents would have wished. Sophia had clung to him at first, but over time had settled into running their small household, keeping the home they shared comfortable and trying to fill her mother’s role.
At that moment, he was grateful his mother wasn’t around to witness his fall from grace. He could only imagine what she would have had to say. It was bad enough that Sophie was here to witness the media coverage of his sex life. Christ, could there be anything worse than having your sex life laid out for public discussion? Was nothing sacred any more?
His thoughts were all over the place and he battled to keep his emotions in check. He was angry with Marie for discussing their private life. Hell, there was nothing wrong with his sex life, he knew that. He was not a sadist or into pain, he enjoyed giving women pleasure. He knew however that many people didn’t understand the BDSM lifestyle and mistook it for abuse. He was irritated and embarrassed to be put in the position of having to explain his lifestyle to his sister of all people.
Hardly pausing for breath she continued, her voice rising with every word until she was shouting at him. “Why can’t you find a decent girl and settle down, instead of cavorting with bimbos?” Her tone betrayed her disgust at the types of women he dated as much as the newspaper headlines.
“What’s wrong with you?” She continued to rant, “Why can’t you date a nice Greek girl, a girl from a good family? One who would look after you?” She turned away from him as she paced the study.
“They’d bore me to death.” He responded automatically, without giving himself time to consider his answer or her reaction.
She spun on her heel, glaring at him and he wished he’d kept his mouth shut. “Hah! And you’re telling me the air heads you date don’t?” She shook her head, obviously deeply saddened by his plight. Crossing the room, she reached towards him, and grasped his hands. Softly, she asked, “What’s wrong with dating a decent girl, one who will make a good wife? You need a proper girlfriend, someone who can converse intelligently and help you at business functions. You need someone who will be happy to have a family and make a home for you.”
“I don’t date them for their conversation,” he responded dryly, exasperated. The last thing he needed was Sophia feeling sorry for him, “And I can handle my business perfectly well without saddling myself with a wife.”
“Why bother dating them if you have no intention of taking the relationship any further?”
Surely, she wasn’t that naïve? He said nothing only raised his brow in reply as he looked at her. He knew she had understood his silent answer when he saw the tell tale flush of embarrassment on her face.
Looking more distressed by the minute, she choked, “You should be ashamed of yourself, having a room like that built in your home. I am never going to live this down! How am I going to face my friends after this?”
She was clearly upset, her cheeks glowed and he was, for once in his life, at a loss for words. He did not want to discuss his lifestyle with his sister, nor did he want her to have to explain his behavior to her friends. He struggled to keep his temper in check; irritated at the predicament Marie had caused. It would be better for Sophia if he took himself out of circulation for a while. Maybe the old saying ‘out of sight, out of mind’ would be true. If the media couldn’t track him down the story would die a natural death.
“So, what are you going to do?” She glared at him from across the room. “Have you seen the circus outside? The paparazzi are gathering at the gates. They are like vultures. Two helicopters have already flown low over the gardens. I’ve had to order all the drapes kept closed and confine the children to the nursery for the day!”
Shit! The newshounds hadn’t taken as long as he’d thought they would to find out his whereabouts. He had really hoped that he would have left Santorini before they realized he was visiting with Sophia.
“I’m sorry, Sophia,” he whispered, his voice full of remorse. All his life he had done everything he could to protect his younger sister. Christ, it was just his luck that the story had broken while he was here.
“Sorry is not going to fix this!”
“Listen to me, Sophia,” he said, his voice now firm. “I’ve made arrangements to leave. I’ll be out of your hair within the next couple of hours. As soon as they see me leave the paparazzi will disperse and leave you in peace.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “The bastards will be too busy chasing me to bother you.”
For the first time she looked sympathetic. “Where are you going to go?”
“Scotland. The house there is remote and the press is a lot less intrusive there than they are on the Continent. The story will be a ten day wonder, it will all be forgotten about in a few weeks.”
“But it’s so isolated!” She cried. Grasping his hands tight, and with tears in her eyes, she pleaded with him to reconsider. “What the hell are you going to do there on your own? It’s not going to be much fun!” She shook her head. “Stay here with us. The paps will soon get sick of hanging around.”
Xander sighed, “Don’t be silly Sophia, I can’t stay here now. That lot,” he said through gritted teeth, as he pointed towards the window behind the closed drapes, “will never give you peace while I am here. There is no way I’m taking any chances with the children.”
“But who will look after you?”
He couldn’t help but laugh, “I’m a big boy, Sophia, and I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I have already advertised for help.” He pulled her close to hug her tight, and felt guilty all over again when he felt her tremble. He bent and kissed her gently on her forehead, “I’ll be fine Sophia, stop worrying. A few weeks on the island will give me a break. You keep telling me I should have a holiday.”
She pulled away from him and hugged herself as she rocked back and forward on her feet. He cursed Marie for causing his sister distress. “I know I told you to take a break, but I was thinking more a month here at home relaxing, sailing, sun bathing. I sure as hell wasn’t thinking about you going to Scotland in March on your own. It will be cold and miserable!”
“It will be a peaceful and refreshing. All that sea air will be invigorating,” he assured her. In truth, he relished the prospect of a few weeks of isolated peace and quiet. He enjoyed his downtime on the island as it was one of the few places where he could have total privacy.
***
Xander shook his head in dismay. Leaving Santorini and shaking the paparazzi off his tail had been the easy bit. Getting staff to join him in his isolation was proving harder than he had thought. The advert had been running for ten days nationwide and he was surprised at how few applications he had received. Looking at the cover letters with résumés attached he was dismayed at his lack of choice. He could have flown in a secretary or bookkeeper from any of his offices around the world but, thinking about the high end corporate offices in some of the most vibrant cities in the world, he didn’t think any of them would take too kindly to working on an isolated island for more than a brief time. He was also absolutely positive that they wouldn’t be prepared to do housework or cooking. He wanted someone who would be content and who was happy to entertain themselves; after all, the island was no metropolis and there was certainly no night life.
Reading through the applications again it looked like his choice was down to one of three applicants, all of which looked suitable on paper and had the necessary qualifications to do what he required. As the applicants all lived in different areas of the country he decided on a central location and fired off replies to all three stating that he would arrange overnight accommodation and cover travelling expenses. Interviews were set for three days hence and he prepared himself for a trip to London.
He opted to stay at his apartment above the London office at Canary Wharf as he could take the helicopter from the airport, land on the roof, and enter the building unseen. Even though the media frenzy had died down, he still didn’t want the attention. He would be in and out of town before the press even knew he had left the island.
Chapter Two
‘Craftsman requires Housekeeper/Girl Friday. Must be efficient, able to work without supervision. Computer literate helpful. Irregular working hours occasionally required but plenty of down time. Live-In position due to rural location. Good remuneration package for the right candidate. Immediate start required. Must be free to travel. Apply by email to Xander@islandcrafts.com’
Chloe had been trawling the net for days looking for a suitable position and had almost given up when the advert, in bold print, jumped out at her. It looked like the answer to all her prayers, an income and accommodation. She would be able to leave town quickly and have the means to relocate.
Nick, her shit of an ex-boyfriend, was due to be released from prison in just twenty-one days, after serving six months jail time for his assault on her. At the time he’d been sentenced she’d estimated three months would give her plenty of time to recover her strength and vanish before his release, but she had taken longer to heal than anticipated and now she was starting to panic that he would be free before she could make her escape. She had to move soon; staying where she was, was no longer an option and unless she secured a job soon she would have no funds to relocate and would be trapped. The position advertised promised funds and a roof over her head, with the added bonus of being far away from Nick.
The very thought of having to face him again made her feel sick. With trembling fingers she swiftly typed a response to the advert and fired off her résumé to the unknown Xander. Chloe only hoped that when he said ‘immediate start’ he meant now!
Three days later, she received the reply she had been anxiously awaiting. She had been invited to attend an interview at a well-known upmarket London hotel. She was to present herself at reception at the given time and would be met by a member of staff and escorted to the interview suite. Her excitement blended with the first hope she’d felt in a long time and blossomed in her chest. She was determined to make a good impression and secure the position she so desperately needed.
Xander entered the hotel lounge and sat down at the bar. It was nearly midnight and the area was reasonably quiet. At least he didn’t expect to bump into any newshounds at this time of night, and especially not here. It wasn’t the kind of place the rich and famous frequented, more a local hotel.
After ordering his usual, Jack Daniels on the rocks, he casually looked around surveying the other occupants. There were several men in a booth in the corner. It was obvious from their dress and snippets of their conversation that they were City bankers. The empty champagne bottles on their table hinted at some sort of celebration. There were a few couples at tables around the lounge. He expected they were finishing off their night with a drink before retiring.
Tucked away in the corner by herself, he spotted a blond. Her long hair shielded her face as she sat head down, book in one hand drink in the other. She seemed oblivious to the raucous conversation going on in the booth next to her as the bankers backslapped and congratulated each other on the deal they had closed. He was intrigued. It was unusual to see a lone woman in a hotel lounge this late in the evening. Well, unusual if they weren’t hookers.
He watched her for a while expecting a partner or friend to join her, but it became obvious that she was alone. Something about her stillness appealed to him and he continued to watch her as he sipped his drink. She seemed to be an oasis of calm in the middle of a storm. His curiosity about her grew and he wished she would lift her head so he could see her face.
A loud crash reverberated around the room as one of the bankers knocked an empty champagne bottle off the table. The woman jumped and dropped her book. The drink she had been holding sloshed and spilled across her lap. Her head snapped around turning towards the sound. For the first time he was able to get a look at her face. He caught his breath at her exquisite features. The long wavy blond hair framed a heart shaped face with high cheekbones. Her delicate shaped brows the perfect outline for her vivid blue eyes, which reminded him of the blue sky of Santorini in summer. She had a perfect Cupid’s bow of a mouth and he found himself imagining how she would taste. Would she taste cool and refreshing, a balm to his troubled spirit, or would she burn like the Mediterranean sun?
From across the room, he could see her visibly relax when she realized the crash was caused by no more than a careless accident. She continued to scan the room as if checking that there were no other threats present. Seeming satisfied, she bent to pick up the book she had dropped. Looking at the wet table, she shook her head, before turning to place the book on the chair at her side. Lifting her purse, she rummaged through the contents with one hand while she shook the other.
Grabbing a towel from the bar, he walked across the room to introduce himself and help her clean up. Raising her head, as though she had sensed him, her clear blue eyes met his as he advanced. She quickly glanced around as if to see where he was heading. He watched as she nibbled at her lip and a small frown furrowed her brow. His imagination went into overdrive at the thought of what her mouth could do to him. As he continued his approach, time seemed to slow. Although she now met his eyes, her look was wary and she held herself completely still. Her posture immediately brought to mind a small doe he had spotted in the forest around his home. He had come across the doe accidently and she had frozen on the spot, sniffing the air around her, before turning and running in the opposite direction. If he didn’t know better he would say the woman was preparing to take flight and he wondered what or who had made her so edgy. He raised an eyebrow in query, wordlessly requesting permission to come closer, and she blushed delicately in response.
The light flush betrayed her vulnerability and brought out his need to protect. Up close, he was even more enamored. He stopped at her table, handing her the towel to blot up the drink she had spilled as he stood looking down at her. At her shy smile of thanks he murmured, “I thought you could do with some help.”
“Thanks, again.” Her voice was soft and low, and he once again felt desire unfurl low in his stomach.
“As we’re apparently the only two singles in the bar do you mind if I join you?”
Her gaze once again flicked to the hotel security at the door. He was glad that she was being cautious. He extended his hand, “I’m harmless,” he assured her.
With a little nod in his direction, she extended her hand towards him. Her handshake was firm, but he was aware of the feel of her satin soft skin, before she gently pulled her hand free and indicated the free stool at the opposite side of the table. She was a shy little thing, obviously unaware of her own appeal. She nibbled on her bottom lip, an action he found incredibly erotic. Shit, he really had been too long without a woman if such a small thing could turn him on.
Straddling the stool, he was caught unaware when he tried to introduce himself. “I’m--”
“No names. We’re strangers meeting in a bar.” She held up her hands to forestall him. The tip of her tongue slipped out to delicately moisten her lips. “You don’t need to know my name.”
“What?” What the hell did that mean? What was she hiding? “I have to call you something--”
“‘Something’ will do.” She giggled.
“Now, you’re being silly,” he teased, as he wondered how much of a night cap she had actually had.
“No, I’m not.” For the first time she looked directly at him, and he caught a flash of irritation in her eyes. She hadn’t appreciated being called silly, and he cursed himself for being an idiot. She obviously had her reasons for making her request, and he had just belittled them. She continued, with a hint of determination, “I like my privacy and a girl has to think about her safety nowadays.” She closed her eyes briefly, as if in pain. “I’m quite happy to have a drink and a chat, but that’s as far as it goes. You don’t need to know my name for that.”
Surprise shot through him. If the bar hadn’t been so quiet, he would have thought he had misheard her. In his normal circle, women clamored to know everything they could about him. They sure as hell made sure he knew exactly who they were and how he could find them again. His wealth seemed to draw them like a magnet. Even though he had intended nothing more than a half hour or so of convivial company, he wasn’t used to being dismissed so casually. He wanted her to want to know more about him.
“Well then, Angel,” there was no way he was going to call her ‘something’ and the endearment just tripped off his tongue, “can I get you a refill?” he asked, indicating her now near empty glass.
Chloe picked up her glass and drained the remaining contents slowly, as she surveyed him over the rim.
“Yes, please.” She handed over the now empty vessel, “Another dark rum and cola would be great. No ice.”
“Back shortly.” She watched as he strode towards the bar to place their order. He briefly acknowledged others in the bar as he passed them, but did not stop to chat. Even from the rear, he was an attractive man. Now that he was not watching her, she allowed herself a moment to admire him. His broad shoulders tapered to a neat waist. He had long muscular legs and a tight butt, all of which were encased in black denim. She found herself wondering what he did for a living. Was it something physical which kept him in such good shape or did he work out to maintain his sculpted physique?
Delicious tingles vibrated through her as she recalled the sound of his voice. He spoke perfect English but with a slight accent and she surmised he was European, possibly Italian or Greek, judging by his coloring. He had a light tan and raven black hair, which he wore slightly longer than collar length. She gave herself a mental pat on the back, feeling very pleased with herself for being able to attract the interest of such a gorgeous man. He had taken her request for ‘no names’ in his stride apparently and he seemed to still want her company.
Things were looking up. For so long she had felt unattractive and had deliberately dressed down to appease Nick. Now it was time for her to please herself, to do what she wanted to do, to go where she wanted to go. No longer would she take orders from a control freak.
If her interview in the morning went well, she would be on her way to creating a new life for herself. A life free of restriction and fear. For tonight, she was going to allow herself a little light flirtation.
He had his back turned towards her as he ordered their drinks at the bar. She found herself watching his interaction with the barman. From her seat, she couldn’t hear what they were discussing but, from the sound of the laughter she caught, she surmised they were exchanging jokes.
He turned suddenly to glance in her direction, breaking into a large grin when he caught her eye. Mortified to be caught staring, she glanced away quickly, but not before she saw the wink he threw in her direction. Confident bastard. He was looking very pleased with himself whereas she was feeling flustered. Butterflies flitted around in her stomach and she took a deep breath. It had been so long since she had felt this pull of attraction, so long since she had even dared to look at a man other than Nick. The last time she had glanced at a man, well, a waiter to be honest, Nick had broken her arm. She shuddered at the memory.
She reminded herself that she had an interview to attend in the morning. If she got the post, and she desperately hoped she was successful, then she wasn’t going to be around to see tall, dark and gorgeous again. She couldn’t afford to get involved with anyone.
She was glad now that she hadn’t divulged her name. Even if he wanted to see her again, he wouldn’t be able to find her. The idea was kind of liberating. Tonight she could be anyone or anything she wanted. She could allow herself to enjoy her time with him and leave when it was over with no strings.
Watching as he returned, she couldn’t help but notice other women following him with their eyes. It wasn’t only because he looked good, it was his designer clothes, his discreet gold jewelry, it was the confident way he carried himself. All of which marked him as a wealthy man. His long legged stride soon ate up the distance between them. He gave no indication that he saw the admiring glances of the women in the room. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on her and the butterflies in her stomach took flight at the gleam in his eyes.
When he reached the table, he handed over her drink and placed a large bowl of fat olives on the table between them.
“Help yourself.” He indicated the dish, before straddling the stool opposite her. He appeared totally relaxed and at ease with himself as he snagged a plump olive, biting it in half between his even white teeth, before popping the second half into his mouth. He chewed slowly as though savoring the taste, and her eyes were drawn to his lips, now lightly coated with olive oil. They looked full and inviting and she wondered how it would feel to have those lips upon her own. Would he be the type to offer soft teasing kisses, which seduced her into surrender? On the other hand, would he be demanding, the take control, sure of himself, alpha male?
Raising her eyes, she felt her stomach flip as she saw him looking at her as though he had read her thoughts. Nervous tension raced through her as they regarded each other silently. In the end, she was unable to hold his gaze. He was just too overwhelming and she rushed into conversation to break the silence.
“So, umm… Are you in town on business or do you live locally?” she asked.
He smiled widely, as if he was aware he had knocked her equilibrium off balance. “I travel a lot,” he told her, “but my main home is in Athens.” This didn’t really answer her question. Main home. How many homes did he have?
“So, you are here on business?”
“No. Not this time.” The smile slipped from his face, and for just a second he appeared grim. “I am taking a little time out. Having a short break.” His voice was clipped, making her think there was something about the break he found unpleasant.
“And you choose to holiday in Britain? In March?” she asked in disbelief. Why the hell would someone with a home in the sun, and obviously the means to go anywhere he wanted, choose to visit London where the weather was miserable at this time of year?
He shrugged his shoulders. “A change is as good as a rest, or so they tell me.” His chocolate brown eyes were alight with humor, as if her questions amused him.
She loved the sound of his voice. The deep timbre reverberated, causing small tremors of desire to course through her and she held her breath as his gaze locked on to hers. Leaning on muscular forearms, lightly sprinkled with hair, he stretched across the table towards her. Her senses were bathed in the warm, inviting smell of sandalwood. Quietly, his gaze intent, he asked, “Now, tell me about you. What’s a beautiful lady doing sitting in a hotel lounge, late in the evening, alone?” His eyes roamed down her body and desire coursed through her. She could do nothing to prevent her nipples beading as his eyes skimmed her chest before returning to focus on her face.
Christ, Chloe. Get a grip of yourself. You would think you had never seen a man before. She chided herself.
“But, I’m not alone.” At his small frown, she rushed to quantify her statement, “I’m sitting with you.”
He grinned at her attempt to tease him, raising an eyebrow in query he prompted, “Well?”
“Pardon?” Her mind had turned to mush and she couldn’t remember his question. She cursed her libido. Why the hell did it have to kick in tonight?
“I said,” he was now openly grinning at her, as if he knew that she was flustered, and was amused by her reaction to him, “what are you doing in town?”
“Oh, hmm…sorry. I’m in town for the night as I have an appointment early in the morning.”
“You don’t live locally then?”
“Well… yes and no.” She twirled a long strand of her hair around her fingers.
“I live on the outskirts of London. My appointment is early and rather than have to face the commuter rush it was easier to stay in town overnight.” She didn’t tell him that the appointment was actually an interview or that her prospective employer had arranged and paid for the hotel room.
“This appointment is important to you?” He was studying her face intently as if her reply really mattered to him. “Business or pleasure?”
She felt herself stiffen in response to his query and had to make a conscious effort to relax. She couldn’t go through life thinking every man was like her ex or that every question was fodder for a jealous rage. Even so, she felt defensive. “Does it matter?” she replied quickly.
“No. It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head slightly, obviously bemused at her response. He was studying her intently, and she shuffled in her chair, uncomfortable that she hadn’t answered his question. “I was only making small talk.”
She felt mean. He’d meant no harm and she hadn’t meant to, but she had probably offended him. Impulsively she stretched her arm across the table, bringing her hand to rest on top of his. He turned his hand and grasped her hand in his own. His hold was firm, but gentle. Mesmerized by the desire in his eyes, she could only sit and watch as he slowly raised her hand to his lips.
“I’m sorry.” His tone was quiet, but sincere, as if he was aware that somehow he had upset her.
He had done nothing wrong; he had only been trying to make small talk. His apology filled her with guilt and her conscience forced her to defend him. “What are you sorry for? I’m the one that was rude!”
He brushed off her attempt to apologize, taking all of the blame on himself. “No, I obviously said something that triggered unpleasant memories. I could see it in your eyes.”
She was surprised at how perceptive he was and wondered if he ever missed anything.
Releasing her hand, he slapped his forehead. “Ah, now I get it.” He grinned at her broadly, his eyes alight with humor. “You’re famous, travelling incognito, and you’re piqued because I didn’t recognize you.”
The idea was so absurd she couldn’t help but giggle.
“Hardly,” she said dryly. What would he say if he realized she was a nobody, so down on her luck she was willing to take a job on a remote island, just to have a roof over her head?
His banter had lightened the mood and she realized how long it had been since anyone had made her laugh. Her spirits felt lighter and she determined that she would make the most of the short time she had with him.
“Your face lights up when you laugh.” His eyes roamed her face as though memorizing all her features. “You should do it more often.”
“And what makes you think that I don’t?”
He shrugged. “Call it intuition. I get the feeling you haven’t had a lot to laugh about lately.”
No way was she going to discuss her past problems with him. “So… tell me about you. Are you married, do you have family?” she asked, attempting to change the subject.
“You want to know if I’m married, but you don’t want to know my name?” He gave her a wicked grin before he threw her own words back at her. “What difference does it make?”
He had her there. She could hardly say ‘I don’t flirt with married men’ without him taking it as some kind of come on.
“Mmm, well… I wouldn’t want to be taking up your time if you have a partner or a family waiting up at home for you.” She had noticed that he didn’t wear a wedding ring, but that meant nothing nowadays.
He was openly grinning at her now and she felt mildly embarrassed. She had made it obvious that she wanted to know if he was single and therefore available.
“You can stop fretting, Angel.” He gave her a slow smile. “I’m as free as a bird. No wife, no girlfriend, and no children waiting up for me at home.”
The butterflies in her stomach took flight as desire for him soared.
“What would you have said if I was married?” He tipped his head to one side, as he watched her closely.
What could she say? “Probably, goodnight,” she murmured softly. “I wouldn’t want to hold you up.” She would have felt keen disappointment at the loss, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.
“A girl with morals and principles. I like that!” His eyes were alight with pleasure and she felt inordinately pleased with herself as she basked in his approval.
They passed a pleasant half hour chatting generally about theatre shows on in London and places they had visited. At her insistence, they avoided personal topics and he knew no more than she was in town for the night and that she had an appointment the following morning.
No matter how devastatingly sexy she found him, she still refused to give her name. The desire in his eyes was obvious and she hadn’t yet decided whether or not she would accept the promise they offered. She was tempted. What girl wouldn’t be? If he didn’t have her name and no way of contacting her again after the night was over, she could walk away without entanglements.
It was getting late and she was conscious of the fact that she needed to get a good night’s sleep in order to be at her best for her interview in the morning, but she was reluctant to draw the evening to a close. She was having fun. He was an intelligent and entertaining conversationalist. When his opinion on a play or a film they had both seen, differed from her own, he would debate good humoredly with her. Not once did he belittle her ideas. It had been so long since she’d been able to express her own opinions without fear of being mocked and doing so felt good. For the first time in months, she felt light hearted and relaxed, euphoric almost.
If he made her feel this good just talking, how good would he make her feel if he took her to bed? The thought alone had her insides trembling and she squirmed in her seat as her internal muscles pulsed. Damn, her panties were wet now. What would she say if he asked if he could spend the night with her? Did she dare accept? She caught herself looking at his hands. They were large with long fingers; his nails were square cut and looked immaculate. What would it feel like to have those hands on her skin, cupping her breasts? Her nipples beaded in anticipation and moisture pooled at the juncture of her thighs as her wayward thoughts caused her to tremble in anticipation.
If she was successful at her interview then she would be out of circulation for a while as the position she had applied for was located on a remote island. It could be a long time before she had the opportunity to have male company and she doubted she would ever meet anyone as gorgeous as this man. Surely it couldn’t be wrong to enjoy just one night of passion before she cloistered herself away?
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes briefly as she clenched her thighs together. She had to get herself under control. Maybe he didn’t want to spend a night with her. She was surprised at the disappointment that thought caused. She cast a quick look at her watch. It was nearly midnight and she really must be thinking of calling the evening to a close soon. She realized that her internal thoughts had caused a lull in their conversation and cursed herself when she realized he was watching her quizzically. She felt herself blush and hoped he hadn’t guessed what she was thinking.
“Feeling tired?” he asked.
“A little…” she answered, and then wondered why she’d said that. Now he would be thinking she wanted to call it a night and she wasn’t ready to let him go just yet.
Xander looked towards the sound of breaking glass and noticed the bankers were starting to get rowdy. Reluctantly, he decided it was time to leave the bar before things got out of hand. Despite all his requests she had refused to reveal her name or hand over her phone number.
What was she hiding? There had to be some reason she refused to acknowledge the chemistry between them. He had not been the only one to experience the pull of sexual attraction, he assured himself, it was definitely mutual. The signs of her arousal had been unmistakable. Even so, he had the uncomfortable feeling that she wasn’t going to give in to it. He was surprised at the disappointment that crashed over him with that thought. Why didn’t she want to see him again? They were both free agents, over the age of consent, with nothing to stop them indulging their mutual attraction. What was she afraid of?
Rising from his seat, he gave a mocking bow as he held out his hand to her. “Well then, Angel. I would consider it an honor to see you safely to your room.”
She collected her purse from under the table and rose slowly before putting her hand in his. He was elated at her tacit acceptance of his offer. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance she would invite him to stay. He had enjoyed his time with her. She was intelligent and quick-witted. It had taken a little coaxing to bring her out of herself. At first, she had been wary, her opinions expressed stiltedly as though she expected rebuke but when she had finally let go and relaxed he had watched in amazement as she blossomed before his eyes. Her face was very expressive and betrayed her emotions. She would never make a poker player, because her eyes gave away her every thought. Those same eyes would make her a great submissive though. She would be so easy to read, so easy to pleasure. He was forced to bite the inside of his cheek in order to stifle the moan of desire that thought conjured up.
He held her hand as they crossed the foyer to the lifts in silence. When they entered the lift, she slowly withdrew her hand from his, as if she was reluctant to let him go. She leaned against the back wall, wrapped her arms around her middle and studied her shoes as if she suddenly found them fascinating. The way she nibbled on her lower lip made him wonder whether she was worried that he was going to pounce on her. Maybe she was right to be worried. He was struggling to control the urge to place his mouth over hers and soothe the spot she’d nibbled.
She was a mass of contradictions, a puzzle he needed to solve. With the resources he had at his disposal, it wouldn’t take him long to find out everything he needed to know about her. One phone call was all it would take to find out her name, and once he knew that he could run a full background check. He didn’t want to go down that route though. He was still hoping that she would volunteer the information, thereby indicating that she wanted to see him again.
As the lift bumped to a halt at her floor, she lifted her head and met his gaze. His eyes locked onto hers, and he found himself holding his breath as he waited to see what her next move would be. She was as still as a rabbit caught in the glare of headlights.
The lift doors opened and she swung her gaze towards the low-lit corridor. With eye contact now broken, his tension eased and he let go of the breath he’d been holding.
“Come on, Sleepyhead.” He held out his hand towards her, “Time to get you into bed.”
He kept his free hand anchored to her lower back as they walked silently down the corridor to her room. The lights in the corridor were set low and the thick carpet underfoot allowed no sound from their footsteps. When they arrived at her door, she turned her back to him as she rummaged in her purse searching for her key. He noticed that her hand was unsteady as she struggled to insert the key into the lock. When he put a steadying hand on her shoulder, she jumped as though startled. He reached over and took the key from her trembling fingers, opened the door, and handed the key back to her.
He was uncertain whether she was nervous or trembling in anticipation. He prayed it was the latter. He had every intention of kissing her and finding out. She had been driving him mad for the last hour and he was desperate to taste her, even if it was just a goodnight kiss at the door.
She straightened her shoulders and he heard her take a deep breath. Then she turned once again to face him. She was suddenly formal as she extended her hand. “Thank you for the company. It’s never very pleasant to sit alone in a hotel and I enjoyed our chat.”
Shit…. he hadn’t seen that coming and he was surprised at the depth of disappointment that crashed over him. He needed to think fast and find something to break the sudden tension between them. Aware that she couldn’t see him as a threat if he wanted to see her again, he decided to try a little humor. Clutching his hands to his chest, over his heart, he presented her with a crestfallen face. “Do I not even get a goodnight kiss?” he asked, as he struggled to contain his disappointment.
She laughed gently at him, her eyes aglow with mischief and he sighed with relief, grateful that she appeared to appreciate his sense of humor.
“Oh, I think I can manage that.” She tilted her head to one side and he was captivated by her lopsided smile.
She stood on tiptoe and appeared to be aiming for his cheek as she leaned toward him. No way was he going to settle for a peck when he had been burning for a taste of her. He turned his head and caught her lips, slowly caressing them with his own, savoring the taste of the woman and the drink she had consumed. He needed more and he pulled her unresisting body closer, enfolding her against his chest, as he gave into his craving. He ran the tip of his tongue along the seam of her mouth and she opened giving him access, allowing him to plunder and stroke her tongue with his own. Her arms crept up and around his neck in apparent surrender. He struggled to keep his kiss light and teasing, aware of the need to tread gently. She was still skittish, as though unaware of her appeal, and the last thing he wanted to do was frighten her.
He couldn’t get her close enough. He skimmed his hands down her sides and loved the delicious way she trembled when he brought her up against his erection. He cupped her bottom firmly enjoying the moans and whimpers of pleasure emanating from her throat. The sound of her desire fed his passion and he ground himself against her, letting her know how much he wanted her. Even as they kissed, he was aware of her hands digging into his shoulders as she clenched her fingers and tugged on his shirt encouraging him closer.
How long they stood necking like teenagers in the hallway he couldn’t say, but when he raised his head, they were both panting heavily and her eyes were slumberous with desire.
“Invite me in,” he growled, desperate now to bury himself within her body.
Christ, he was acting like a horny schoolboy. He could normally control his impulses. What the hell was it about this woman that fired him up so quickly? He fought to get himself back under control.
“Angel?” he questioned. He felt slightly nervous as he awaited her answer. He wasn’t used to having to persuade women into his bed. He tried to appear calm as he didn’t want to unsettle her, but his stomach muscles were clenched tight as he waited on her response.
https://amzn.to/2QyVKdl
Glenda Horsfall
Chapter One
Shit. Shit. Shit! Xander couldn’t believe it. It was bad enough that the papers had published the story, but for it to come out now, when he was visiting his sister, was worse than bad luck. Sophia was going to kill him for bringing bedlam to her home.
He paced his brother-in-laws study like a caged animal. His cell phone had started ringing in the early hours of the morning; the newshounds were out for blood. He knew it wouldn’t be long before they tracked him to Sophia’s home. He wasn’t concerned for himself, Christ he couldn’t give a damn what they thought about him, but he needed to make plans to get away from his sister’s home before the paparazzi realized he was here and started camping on his sister’s doorstep. Getting away from here would ensure that the paparazzi now hounding him did not inadvertently get photographs of his niece and nephews. Therefore, he needed to remove himself from the vicinity of the family home as soon as possible. Sophia would never forgive him if his actions brought unwanted attention to her family. There had been numerous high profile kidnappings in Greece, and they had made the decision not to allow photographs of the children to appear in the press.
Deep in thought, he was less than cordial when his cell phone rang yet again. A quick glance at the display ascertained it was Giles, his security chief, based in Athens.
“What now?” He snapped, his tone harsh.
“We have a situation here–”
“Well, handle it. That’s what I pay you for!” Shit! He couldn’t hide out here and have his sister’s life disrupted.
“Look Giles, you’ll have to excuse me, it’s been quite a night and I’ve had no sleep.” He continued in a more even tone, “Whatever is going on down there, just sort it. You have carte blanche to take whatever action you deem necessary.”
“Very well, Mr. Doumas,” Giles came back sounding his normal controlled self, “I’ll order extra security for the house and have Mrs. Stephanos transferred to her sister’s.”
Damn, it looked like he wasn’t going to return to his Athens home either. According to Giles, the press were already camped on the doorstep there and his elderly housekeeper had been forced to lock herself inside the house. What a bloody mess!
“I have a few things to tie up here before I leave,” Xander returned, “but I want you to send the helicopter to Santorini to pick me up at noon. Have the jet on standby at the airport. I’ll let you know later where we’re headed so that the pilot can file a flight plan.”
“Very well, Sir.”
Feeling relieved now that he had arranged to remove himself from Santorini, he sat down heavily in the large leather chair behind the desk. Once again, he cast his eyes over the computer screen where he had pulled up copies of the newspaper articles published that morning. Just the sight of the newspaper headlines was enough to have his temper spiking. “Billionaire with Perverted Tastes” and “CEO with Kinky Sex Life” were two of the milder ones. The accompanying pictures which showed the inside of his private play room along with a photo of his ex-girlfriend, nude and tied to the St Andrews Cross, had him cursing as he thumped the desk in frustration. He hoped the thump he had inflicted on the table had not woken the household. Nursing his aching knuckles, which would surely show bruises within a few hours, he cursed Marie under his breath. The bitch would not get away with this. He would make her pay for the havoc she had brought down upon his head. He had no doubt that Marie herself had provided the pictures because she had threatened to go to the media.
He wished now he had taken her blackmail attempt more seriously. He really hadn’t believed she would have the nerve to go through with a ‘kiss and tell all’ story. Now look at the bloody mess he was in. What was worse was that gut instinct told him it was going to get worse before it got better.
Outside, all still appeared quiet, but he had taken the additional precaution of calling in extra security to patrol the perimeter of his sister’s property. Dawn would be breaking soon, and tired as he was, he still had a lot to do before noon, when the helicopter would be arriving to pick him up.
He spent the next hour on the phone putting his plans into action. He didn’t think twice about getting his lawyer out of bed in the middle of the night, giving him terse instructions with regard to the newspaper editors and his ex-girlfriend. They would all be sorry that they had crossed him. By the time he finished with them they would wish they had never heard his name.
He looked up as the study door opened and Georgiou entered carrying a couple of large coffee mugs.
“I heard you up and about. Problems?” He crossed the room to place a welcome cup of coffee on the desk in front of him.
“Sorry I disturbed you. Is Sophia–”
“Sophia is still asleep,” Georgiou cut in, “and by the look of you I would say that’s a good thing. You look like hell. What’s going on?”
“That!” He pointed towards the computer screen, before twisting it around in order that Georgiou could read it from the opposite side of the desk. He watched the emotions flicker across his brother-in-law’s face.
Xander remained silent as his brother-in-law read the articles, occasionally stopping to glance across at him. He did not have to say anything, the looks he threw Xander’s way spoke volumes. His eyes widened and his eyebrows rose as he glanced between him and the computer screen, as though he could not believe what he was reading. His face occasionally broke into a spontaneous grin as he cast Xander a quick sideways glance. It was obvious to Xander that his brother-in-law found his predicament amusing.
“Well, well. I never would have believed it, you always seemed so straightforward.” Georgiou grinned, before he continued, “Never would have had you down for one to play kinky games.” He held up his hands in an open gesture. “Not that it bothers me. What you do behind closed doors is your own business. However, I don’t think your sister is going to be too amused when she sees the papers.”
Looking over at him, Xander grimaced as he raked his fingers back through his hair, “Tell me about it, that’s one conversation I’m not looking forward to. She’s going to give me hell!”
‘Hell’ was an understatement. When Sophia finally tracked him down in the study, she looked like she wanted to commit murder. He was, most definitely, not her favorite person at the moment. That shook Xander to his core. Her look of disappointment made his stomach churn, and he held himself rigid as he struggled not to turn away from her. The guilt he felt at disappointing her gnawed away at his insides until he felt sick. He was used to Sophia looking at him with something akin to hero worship. The look of disdain on her face hurt far more than he could have imagined. He held his breath and braced for her attack.
“What have I told you in the past about the types of girlfriends you choose?” Christ, she sounded more like his mother than his younger sister, not surprising really, as she had tried to mother him ever since they had lost their parents in an accident when she was just seventeen. Xander had been twenty-one at the time and had become the head of their small family, taking guardianship of his sister and raising her as his parents would have wished. Sophia had clung to him at first, but over time had settled into running their small household, keeping the home they shared comfortable and trying to fill her mother’s role.
At that moment, he was grateful his mother wasn’t around to witness his fall from grace. He could only imagine what she would have had to say. It was bad enough that Sophie was here to witness the media coverage of his sex life. Christ, could there be anything worse than having your sex life laid out for public discussion? Was nothing sacred any more?
His thoughts were all over the place and he battled to keep his emotions in check. He was angry with Marie for discussing their private life. Hell, there was nothing wrong with his sex life, he knew that. He was not a sadist or into pain, he enjoyed giving women pleasure. He knew however that many people didn’t understand the BDSM lifestyle and mistook it for abuse. He was irritated and embarrassed to be put in the position of having to explain his lifestyle to his sister of all people.
Hardly pausing for breath she continued, her voice rising with every word until she was shouting at him. “Why can’t you find a decent girl and settle down, instead of cavorting with bimbos?” Her tone betrayed her disgust at the types of women he dated as much as the newspaper headlines.
“What’s wrong with you?” She continued to rant, “Why can’t you date a nice Greek girl, a girl from a good family? One who would look after you?” She turned away from him as she paced the study.
“They’d bore me to death.” He responded automatically, without giving himself time to consider his answer or her reaction.
She spun on her heel, glaring at him and he wished he’d kept his mouth shut. “Hah! And you’re telling me the air heads you date don’t?” She shook her head, obviously deeply saddened by his plight. Crossing the room, she reached towards him, and grasped his hands. Softly, she asked, “What’s wrong with dating a decent girl, one who will make a good wife? You need a proper girlfriend, someone who can converse intelligently and help you at business functions. You need someone who will be happy to have a family and make a home for you.”
“I don’t date them for their conversation,” he responded dryly, exasperated. The last thing he needed was Sophia feeling sorry for him, “And I can handle my business perfectly well without saddling myself with a wife.”
“Why bother dating them if you have no intention of taking the relationship any further?”
Surely, she wasn’t that naïve? He said nothing only raised his brow in reply as he looked at her. He knew she had understood his silent answer when he saw the tell tale flush of embarrassment on her face.
Looking more distressed by the minute, she choked, “You should be ashamed of yourself, having a room like that built in your home. I am never going to live this down! How am I going to face my friends after this?”
She was clearly upset, her cheeks glowed and he was, for once in his life, at a loss for words. He did not want to discuss his lifestyle with his sister, nor did he want her to have to explain his behavior to her friends. He struggled to keep his temper in check; irritated at the predicament Marie had caused. It would be better for Sophia if he took himself out of circulation for a while. Maybe the old saying ‘out of sight, out of mind’ would be true. If the media couldn’t track him down the story would die a natural death.
“So, what are you going to do?” She glared at him from across the room. “Have you seen the circus outside? The paparazzi are gathering at the gates. They are like vultures. Two helicopters have already flown low over the gardens. I’ve had to order all the drapes kept closed and confine the children to the nursery for the day!”
Shit! The newshounds hadn’t taken as long as he’d thought they would to find out his whereabouts. He had really hoped that he would have left Santorini before they realized he was visiting with Sophia.
“I’m sorry, Sophia,” he whispered, his voice full of remorse. All his life he had done everything he could to protect his younger sister. Christ, it was just his luck that the story had broken while he was here.
“Sorry is not going to fix this!”
“Listen to me, Sophia,” he said, his voice now firm. “I’ve made arrangements to leave. I’ll be out of your hair within the next couple of hours. As soon as they see me leave the paparazzi will disperse and leave you in peace.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “The bastards will be too busy chasing me to bother you.”
For the first time she looked sympathetic. “Where are you going to go?”
“Scotland. The house there is remote and the press is a lot less intrusive there than they are on the Continent. The story will be a ten day wonder, it will all be forgotten about in a few weeks.”
“But it’s so isolated!” She cried. Grasping his hands tight, and with tears in her eyes, she pleaded with him to reconsider. “What the hell are you going to do there on your own? It’s not going to be much fun!” She shook her head. “Stay here with us. The paps will soon get sick of hanging around.”
Xander sighed, “Don’t be silly Sophia, I can’t stay here now. That lot,” he said through gritted teeth, as he pointed towards the window behind the closed drapes, “will never give you peace while I am here. There is no way I’m taking any chances with the children.”
“But who will look after you?”
He couldn’t help but laugh, “I’m a big boy, Sophia, and I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I have already advertised for help.” He pulled her close to hug her tight, and felt guilty all over again when he felt her tremble. He bent and kissed her gently on her forehead, “I’ll be fine Sophia, stop worrying. A few weeks on the island will give me a break. You keep telling me I should have a holiday.”
She pulled away from him and hugged herself as she rocked back and forward on her feet. He cursed Marie for causing his sister distress. “I know I told you to take a break, but I was thinking more a month here at home relaxing, sailing, sun bathing. I sure as hell wasn’t thinking about you going to Scotland in March on your own. It will be cold and miserable!”
“It will be a peaceful and refreshing. All that sea air will be invigorating,” he assured her. In truth, he relished the prospect of a few weeks of isolated peace and quiet. He enjoyed his downtime on the island as it was one of the few places where he could have total privacy.
***
Xander shook his head in dismay. Leaving Santorini and shaking the paparazzi off his tail had been the easy bit. Getting staff to join him in his isolation was proving harder than he had thought. The advert had been running for ten days nationwide and he was surprised at how few applications he had received. Looking at the cover letters with résumés attached he was dismayed at his lack of choice. He could have flown in a secretary or bookkeeper from any of his offices around the world but, thinking about the high end corporate offices in some of the most vibrant cities in the world, he didn’t think any of them would take too kindly to working on an isolated island for more than a brief time. He was also absolutely positive that they wouldn’t be prepared to do housework or cooking. He wanted someone who would be content and who was happy to entertain themselves; after all, the island was no metropolis and there was certainly no night life.
Reading through the applications again it looked like his choice was down to one of three applicants, all of which looked suitable on paper and had the necessary qualifications to do what he required. As the applicants all lived in different areas of the country he decided on a central location and fired off replies to all three stating that he would arrange overnight accommodation and cover travelling expenses. Interviews were set for three days hence and he prepared himself for a trip to London.
He opted to stay at his apartment above the London office at Canary Wharf as he could take the helicopter from the airport, land on the roof, and enter the building unseen. Even though the media frenzy had died down, he still didn’t want the attention. He would be in and out of town before the press even knew he had left the island.
Chapter Two
‘Craftsman requires Housekeeper/Girl Friday. Must be efficient, able to work without supervision. Computer literate helpful. Irregular working hours occasionally required but plenty of down time. Live-In position due to rural location. Good remuneration package for the right candidate. Immediate start required. Must be free to travel. Apply by email to Xander@islandcrafts.com’
Chloe had been trawling the net for days looking for a suitable position and had almost given up when the advert, in bold print, jumped out at her. It looked like the answer to all her prayers, an income and accommodation. She would be able to leave town quickly and have the means to relocate.
Nick, her shit of an ex-boyfriend, was due to be released from prison in just twenty-one days, after serving six months jail time for his assault on her. At the time he’d been sentenced she’d estimated three months would give her plenty of time to recover her strength and vanish before his release, but she had taken longer to heal than anticipated and now she was starting to panic that he would be free before she could make her escape. She had to move soon; staying where she was, was no longer an option and unless she secured a job soon she would have no funds to relocate and would be trapped. The position advertised promised funds and a roof over her head, with the added bonus of being far away from Nick.
The very thought of having to face him again made her feel sick. With trembling fingers she swiftly typed a response to the advert and fired off her résumé to the unknown Xander. Chloe only hoped that when he said ‘immediate start’ he meant now!
Three days later, she received the reply she had been anxiously awaiting. She had been invited to attend an interview at a well-known upmarket London hotel. She was to present herself at reception at the given time and would be met by a member of staff and escorted to the interview suite. Her excitement blended with the first hope she’d felt in a long time and blossomed in her chest. She was determined to make a good impression and secure the position she so desperately needed.
Xander entered the hotel lounge and sat down at the bar. It was nearly midnight and the area was reasonably quiet. At least he didn’t expect to bump into any newshounds at this time of night, and especially not here. It wasn’t the kind of place the rich and famous frequented, more a local hotel.
After ordering his usual, Jack Daniels on the rocks, he casually looked around surveying the other occupants. There were several men in a booth in the corner. It was obvious from their dress and snippets of their conversation that they were City bankers. The empty champagne bottles on their table hinted at some sort of celebration. There were a few couples at tables around the lounge. He expected they were finishing off their night with a drink before retiring.
Tucked away in the corner by herself, he spotted a blond. Her long hair shielded her face as she sat head down, book in one hand drink in the other. She seemed oblivious to the raucous conversation going on in the booth next to her as the bankers backslapped and congratulated each other on the deal they had closed. He was intrigued. It was unusual to see a lone woman in a hotel lounge this late in the evening. Well, unusual if they weren’t hookers.
He watched her for a while expecting a partner or friend to join her, but it became obvious that she was alone. Something about her stillness appealed to him and he continued to watch her as he sipped his drink. She seemed to be an oasis of calm in the middle of a storm. His curiosity about her grew and he wished she would lift her head so he could see her face.
A loud crash reverberated around the room as one of the bankers knocked an empty champagne bottle off the table. The woman jumped and dropped her book. The drink she had been holding sloshed and spilled across her lap. Her head snapped around turning towards the sound. For the first time he was able to get a look at her face. He caught his breath at her exquisite features. The long wavy blond hair framed a heart shaped face with high cheekbones. Her delicate shaped brows the perfect outline for her vivid blue eyes, which reminded him of the blue sky of Santorini in summer. She had a perfect Cupid’s bow of a mouth and he found himself imagining how she would taste. Would she taste cool and refreshing, a balm to his troubled spirit, or would she burn like the Mediterranean sun?
From across the room, he could see her visibly relax when she realized the crash was caused by no more than a careless accident. She continued to scan the room as if checking that there were no other threats present. Seeming satisfied, she bent to pick up the book she had dropped. Looking at the wet table, she shook her head, before turning to place the book on the chair at her side. Lifting her purse, she rummaged through the contents with one hand while she shook the other.
Grabbing a towel from the bar, he walked across the room to introduce himself and help her clean up. Raising her head, as though she had sensed him, her clear blue eyes met his as he advanced. She quickly glanced around as if to see where he was heading. He watched as she nibbled at her lip and a small frown furrowed her brow. His imagination went into overdrive at the thought of what her mouth could do to him. As he continued his approach, time seemed to slow. Although she now met his eyes, her look was wary and she held herself completely still. Her posture immediately brought to mind a small doe he had spotted in the forest around his home. He had come across the doe accidently and she had frozen on the spot, sniffing the air around her, before turning and running in the opposite direction. If he didn’t know better he would say the woman was preparing to take flight and he wondered what or who had made her so edgy. He raised an eyebrow in query, wordlessly requesting permission to come closer, and she blushed delicately in response.
The light flush betrayed her vulnerability and brought out his need to protect. Up close, he was even more enamored. He stopped at her table, handing her the towel to blot up the drink she had spilled as he stood looking down at her. At her shy smile of thanks he murmured, “I thought you could do with some help.”
“Thanks, again.” Her voice was soft and low, and he once again felt desire unfurl low in his stomach.
“As we’re apparently the only two singles in the bar do you mind if I join you?”
Her gaze once again flicked to the hotel security at the door. He was glad that she was being cautious. He extended his hand, “I’m harmless,” he assured her.
With a little nod in his direction, she extended her hand towards him. Her handshake was firm, but he was aware of the feel of her satin soft skin, before she gently pulled her hand free and indicated the free stool at the opposite side of the table. She was a shy little thing, obviously unaware of her own appeal. She nibbled on her bottom lip, an action he found incredibly erotic. Shit, he really had been too long without a woman if such a small thing could turn him on.
Straddling the stool, he was caught unaware when he tried to introduce himself. “I’m--”
“No names. We’re strangers meeting in a bar.” She held up her hands to forestall him. The tip of her tongue slipped out to delicately moisten her lips. “You don’t need to know my name.”
“What?” What the hell did that mean? What was she hiding? “I have to call you something--”
“‘Something’ will do.” She giggled.
“Now, you’re being silly,” he teased, as he wondered how much of a night cap she had actually had.
“No, I’m not.” For the first time she looked directly at him, and he caught a flash of irritation in her eyes. She hadn’t appreciated being called silly, and he cursed himself for being an idiot. She obviously had her reasons for making her request, and he had just belittled them. She continued, with a hint of determination, “I like my privacy and a girl has to think about her safety nowadays.” She closed her eyes briefly, as if in pain. “I’m quite happy to have a drink and a chat, but that’s as far as it goes. You don’t need to know my name for that.”
Surprise shot through him. If the bar hadn’t been so quiet, he would have thought he had misheard her. In his normal circle, women clamored to know everything they could about him. They sure as hell made sure he knew exactly who they were and how he could find them again. His wealth seemed to draw them like a magnet. Even though he had intended nothing more than a half hour or so of convivial company, he wasn’t used to being dismissed so casually. He wanted her to want to know more about him.
“Well then, Angel,” there was no way he was going to call her ‘something’ and the endearment just tripped off his tongue, “can I get you a refill?” he asked, indicating her now near empty glass.
Chloe picked up her glass and drained the remaining contents slowly, as she surveyed him over the rim.
“Yes, please.” She handed over the now empty vessel, “Another dark rum and cola would be great. No ice.”
“Back shortly.” She watched as he strode towards the bar to place their order. He briefly acknowledged others in the bar as he passed them, but did not stop to chat. Even from the rear, he was an attractive man. Now that he was not watching her, she allowed herself a moment to admire him. His broad shoulders tapered to a neat waist. He had long muscular legs and a tight butt, all of which were encased in black denim. She found herself wondering what he did for a living. Was it something physical which kept him in such good shape or did he work out to maintain his sculpted physique?
Delicious tingles vibrated through her as she recalled the sound of his voice. He spoke perfect English but with a slight accent and she surmised he was European, possibly Italian or Greek, judging by his coloring. He had a light tan and raven black hair, which he wore slightly longer than collar length. She gave herself a mental pat on the back, feeling very pleased with herself for being able to attract the interest of such a gorgeous man. He had taken her request for ‘no names’ in his stride apparently and he seemed to still want her company.
Things were looking up. For so long she had felt unattractive and had deliberately dressed down to appease Nick. Now it was time for her to please herself, to do what she wanted to do, to go where she wanted to go. No longer would she take orders from a control freak.
If her interview in the morning went well, she would be on her way to creating a new life for herself. A life free of restriction and fear. For tonight, she was going to allow herself a little light flirtation.
He had his back turned towards her as he ordered their drinks at the bar. She found herself watching his interaction with the barman. From her seat, she couldn’t hear what they were discussing but, from the sound of the laughter she caught, she surmised they were exchanging jokes.
He turned suddenly to glance in her direction, breaking into a large grin when he caught her eye. Mortified to be caught staring, she glanced away quickly, but not before she saw the wink he threw in her direction. Confident bastard. He was looking very pleased with himself whereas she was feeling flustered. Butterflies flitted around in her stomach and she took a deep breath. It had been so long since she had felt this pull of attraction, so long since she had even dared to look at a man other than Nick. The last time she had glanced at a man, well, a waiter to be honest, Nick had broken her arm. She shuddered at the memory.
She reminded herself that she had an interview to attend in the morning. If she got the post, and she desperately hoped she was successful, then she wasn’t going to be around to see tall, dark and gorgeous again. She couldn’t afford to get involved with anyone.
She was glad now that she hadn’t divulged her name. Even if he wanted to see her again, he wouldn’t be able to find her. The idea was kind of liberating. Tonight she could be anyone or anything she wanted. She could allow herself to enjoy her time with him and leave when it was over with no strings.
Watching as he returned, she couldn’t help but notice other women following him with their eyes. It wasn’t only because he looked good, it was his designer clothes, his discreet gold jewelry, it was the confident way he carried himself. All of which marked him as a wealthy man. His long legged stride soon ate up the distance between them. He gave no indication that he saw the admiring glances of the women in the room. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on her and the butterflies in her stomach took flight at the gleam in his eyes.
When he reached the table, he handed over her drink and placed a large bowl of fat olives on the table between them.
“Help yourself.” He indicated the dish, before straddling the stool opposite her. He appeared totally relaxed and at ease with himself as he snagged a plump olive, biting it in half between his even white teeth, before popping the second half into his mouth. He chewed slowly as though savoring the taste, and her eyes were drawn to his lips, now lightly coated with olive oil. They looked full and inviting and she wondered how it would feel to have those lips upon her own. Would he be the type to offer soft teasing kisses, which seduced her into surrender? On the other hand, would he be demanding, the take control, sure of himself, alpha male?
Raising her eyes, she felt her stomach flip as she saw him looking at her as though he had read her thoughts. Nervous tension raced through her as they regarded each other silently. In the end, she was unable to hold his gaze. He was just too overwhelming and she rushed into conversation to break the silence.
“So, umm… Are you in town on business or do you live locally?” she asked.
He smiled widely, as if he was aware he had knocked her equilibrium off balance. “I travel a lot,” he told her, “but my main home is in Athens.” This didn’t really answer her question. Main home. How many homes did he have?
“So, you are here on business?”
“No. Not this time.” The smile slipped from his face, and for just a second he appeared grim. “I am taking a little time out. Having a short break.” His voice was clipped, making her think there was something about the break he found unpleasant.
“And you choose to holiday in Britain? In March?” she asked in disbelief. Why the hell would someone with a home in the sun, and obviously the means to go anywhere he wanted, choose to visit London where the weather was miserable at this time of year?
He shrugged his shoulders. “A change is as good as a rest, or so they tell me.” His chocolate brown eyes were alight with humor, as if her questions amused him.
She loved the sound of his voice. The deep timbre reverberated, causing small tremors of desire to course through her and she held her breath as his gaze locked on to hers. Leaning on muscular forearms, lightly sprinkled with hair, he stretched across the table towards her. Her senses were bathed in the warm, inviting smell of sandalwood. Quietly, his gaze intent, he asked, “Now, tell me about you. What’s a beautiful lady doing sitting in a hotel lounge, late in the evening, alone?” His eyes roamed down her body and desire coursed through her. She could do nothing to prevent her nipples beading as his eyes skimmed her chest before returning to focus on her face.
Christ, Chloe. Get a grip of yourself. You would think you had never seen a man before. She chided herself.
“But, I’m not alone.” At his small frown, she rushed to quantify her statement, “I’m sitting with you.”
He grinned at her attempt to tease him, raising an eyebrow in query he prompted, “Well?”
“Pardon?” Her mind had turned to mush and she couldn’t remember his question. She cursed her libido. Why the hell did it have to kick in tonight?
“I said,” he was now openly grinning at her, as if he knew that she was flustered, and was amused by her reaction to him, “what are you doing in town?”
“Oh, hmm…sorry. I’m in town for the night as I have an appointment early in the morning.”
“You don’t live locally then?”
“Well… yes and no.” She twirled a long strand of her hair around her fingers.
“I live on the outskirts of London. My appointment is early and rather than have to face the commuter rush it was easier to stay in town overnight.” She didn’t tell him that the appointment was actually an interview or that her prospective employer had arranged and paid for the hotel room.
“This appointment is important to you?” He was studying her face intently as if her reply really mattered to him. “Business or pleasure?”
She felt herself stiffen in response to his query and had to make a conscious effort to relax. She couldn’t go through life thinking every man was like her ex or that every question was fodder for a jealous rage. Even so, she felt defensive. “Does it matter?” she replied quickly.
“No. It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head slightly, obviously bemused at her response. He was studying her intently, and she shuffled in her chair, uncomfortable that she hadn’t answered his question. “I was only making small talk.”
She felt mean. He’d meant no harm and she hadn’t meant to, but she had probably offended him. Impulsively she stretched her arm across the table, bringing her hand to rest on top of his. He turned his hand and grasped her hand in his own. His hold was firm, but gentle. Mesmerized by the desire in his eyes, she could only sit and watch as he slowly raised her hand to his lips.
“I’m sorry.” His tone was quiet, but sincere, as if he was aware that somehow he had upset her.
He had done nothing wrong; he had only been trying to make small talk. His apology filled her with guilt and her conscience forced her to defend him. “What are you sorry for? I’m the one that was rude!”
He brushed off her attempt to apologize, taking all of the blame on himself. “No, I obviously said something that triggered unpleasant memories. I could see it in your eyes.”
She was surprised at how perceptive he was and wondered if he ever missed anything.
Releasing her hand, he slapped his forehead. “Ah, now I get it.” He grinned at her broadly, his eyes alight with humor. “You’re famous, travelling incognito, and you’re piqued because I didn’t recognize you.”
The idea was so absurd she couldn’t help but giggle.
“Hardly,” she said dryly. What would he say if he realized she was a nobody, so down on her luck she was willing to take a job on a remote island, just to have a roof over her head?
His banter had lightened the mood and she realized how long it had been since anyone had made her laugh. Her spirits felt lighter and she determined that she would make the most of the short time she had with him.
“Your face lights up when you laugh.” His eyes roamed her face as though memorizing all her features. “You should do it more often.”
“And what makes you think that I don’t?”
He shrugged. “Call it intuition. I get the feeling you haven’t had a lot to laugh about lately.”
No way was she going to discuss her past problems with him. “So… tell me about you. Are you married, do you have family?” she asked, attempting to change the subject.
“You want to know if I’m married, but you don’t want to know my name?” He gave her a wicked grin before he threw her own words back at her. “What difference does it make?”
He had her there. She could hardly say ‘I don’t flirt with married men’ without him taking it as some kind of come on.
“Mmm, well… I wouldn’t want to be taking up your time if you have a partner or a family waiting up at home for you.” She had noticed that he didn’t wear a wedding ring, but that meant nothing nowadays.
He was openly grinning at her now and she felt mildly embarrassed. She had made it obvious that she wanted to know if he was single and therefore available.
“You can stop fretting, Angel.” He gave her a slow smile. “I’m as free as a bird. No wife, no girlfriend, and no children waiting up for me at home.”
The butterflies in her stomach took flight as desire for him soared.
“What would you have said if I was married?” He tipped his head to one side, as he watched her closely.
What could she say? “Probably, goodnight,” she murmured softly. “I wouldn’t want to hold you up.” She would have felt keen disappointment at the loss, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.
“A girl with morals and principles. I like that!” His eyes were alight with pleasure and she felt inordinately pleased with herself as she basked in his approval.
They passed a pleasant half hour chatting generally about theatre shows on in London and places they had visited. At her insistence, they avoided personal topics and he knew no more than she was in town for the night and that she had an appointment the following morning.
No matter how devastatingly sexy she found him, she still refused to give her name. The desire in his eyes was obvious and she hadn’t yet decided whether or not she would accept the promise they offered. She was tempted. What girl wouldn’t be? If he didn’t have her name and no way of contacting her again after the night was over, she could walk away without entanglements.
It was getting late and she was conscious of the fact that she needed to get a good night’s sleep in order to be at her best for her interview in the morning, but she was reluctant to draw the evening to a close. She was having fun. He was an intelligent and entertaining conversationalist. When his opinion on a play or a film they had both seen, differed from her own, he would debate good humoredly with her. Not once did he belittle her ideas. It had been so long since she’d been able to express her own opinions without fear of being mocked and doing so felt good. For the first time in months, she felt light hearted and relaxed, euphoric almost.
If he made her feel this good just talking, how good would he make her feel if he took her to bed? The thought alone had her insides trembling and she squirmed in her seat as her internal muscles pulsed. Damn, her panties were wet now. What would she say if he asked if he could spend the night with her? Did she dare accept? She caught herself looking at his hands. They were large with long fingers; his nails were square cut and looked immaculate. What would it feel like to have those hands on her skin, cupping her breasts? Her nipples beaded in anticipation and moisture pooled at the juncture of her thighs as her wayward thoughts caused her to tremble in anticipation.
If she was successful at her interview then she would be out of circulation for a while as the position she had applied for was located on a remote island. It could be a long time before she had the opportunity to have male company and she doubted she would ever meet anyone as gorgeous as this man. Surely it couldn’t be wrong to enjoy just one night of passion before she cloistered herself away?
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes briefly as she clenched her thighs together. She had to get herself under control. Maybe he didn’t want to spend a night with her. She was surprised at the disappointment that thought caused. She cast a quick look at her watch. It was nearly midnight and she really must be thinking of calling the evening to a close soon. She realized that her internal thoughts had caused a lull in their conversation and cursed herself when she realized he was watching her quizzically. She felt herself blush and hoped he hadn’t guessed what she was thinking.
“Feeling tired?” he asked.
“A little…” she answered, and then wondered why she’d said that. Now he would be thinking she wanted to call it a night and she wasn’t ready to let him go just yet.
Xander looked towards the sound of breaking glass and noticed the bankers were starting to get rowdy. Reluctantly, he decided it was time to leave the bar before things got out of hand. Despite all his requests she had refused to reveal her name or hand over her phone number.
What was she hiding? There had to be some reason she refused to acknowledge the chemistry between them. He had not been the only one to experience the pull of sexual attraction, he assured himself, it was definitely mutual. The signs of her arousal had been unmistakable. Even so, he had the uncomfortable feeling that she wasn’t going to give in to it. He was surprised at the disappointment that crashed over him with that thought. Why didn’t she want to see him again? They were both free agents, over the age of consent, with nothing to stop them indulging their mutual attraction. What was she afraid of?
Rising from his seat, he gave a mocking bow as he held out his hand to her. “Well then, Angel. I would consider it an honor to see you safely to your room.”
She collected her purse from under the table and rose slowly before putting her hand in his. He was elated at her tacit acceptance of his offer. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance she would invite him to stay. He had enjoyed his time with her. She was intelligent and quick-witted. It had taken a little coaxing to bring her out of herself. At first, she had been wary, her opinions expressed stiltedly as though she expected rebuke but when she had finally let go and relaxed he had watched in amazement as she blossomed before his eyes. Her face was very expressive and betrayed her emotions. She would never make a poker player, because her eyes gave away her every thought. Those same eyes would make her a great submissive though. She would be so easy to read, so easy to pleasure. He was forced to bite the inside of his cheek in order to stifle the moan of desire that thought conjured up.
He held her hand as they crossed the foyer to the lifts in silence. When they entered the lift, she slowly withdrew her hand from his, as if she was reluctant to let him go. She leaned against the back wall, wrapped her arms around her middle and studied her shoes as if she suddenly found them fascinating. The way she nibbled on her lower lip made him wonder whether she was worried that he was going to pounce on her. Maybe she was right to be worried. He was struggling to control the urge to place his mouth over hers and soothe the spot she’d nibbled.
She was a mass of contradictions, a puzzle he needed to solve. With the resources he had at his disposal, it wouldn’t take him long to find out everything he needed to know about her. One phone call was all it would take to find out her name, and once he knew that he could run a full background check. He didn’t want to go down that route though. He was still hoping that she would volunteer the information, thereby indicating that she wanted to see him again.
As the lift bumped to a halt at her floor, she lifted her head and met his gaze. His eyes locked onto hers, and he found himself holding his breath as he waited to see what her next move would be. She was as still as a rabbit caught in the glare of headlights.
The lift doors opened and she swung her gaze towards the low-lit corridor. With eye contact now broken, his tension eased and he let go of the breath he’d been holding.
“Come on, Sleepyhead.” He held out his hand towards her, “Time to get you into bed.”
He kept his free hand anchored to her lower back as they walked silently down the corridor to her room. The lights in the corridor were set low and the thick carpet underfoot allowed no sound from their footsteps. When they arrived at her door, she turned her back to him as she rummaged in her purse searching for her key. He noticed that her hand was unsteady as she struggled to insert the key into the lock. When he put a steadying hand on her shoulder, she jumped as though startled. He reached over and took the key from her trembling fingers, opened the door, and handed the key back to her.
He was uncertain whether she was nervous or trembling in anticipation. He prayed it was the latter. He had every intention of kissing her and finding out. She had been driving him mad for the last hour and he was desperate to taste her, even if it was just a goodnight kiss at the door.
She straightened her shoulders and he heard her take a deep breath. Then she turned once again to face him. She was suddenly formal as she extended her hand. “Thank you for the company. It’s never very pleasant to sit alone in a hotel and I enjoyed our chat.”
Shit…. he hadn’t seen that coming and he was surprised at the depth of disappointment that crashed over him. He needed to think fast and find something to break the sudden tension between them. Aware that she couldn’t see him as a threat if he wanted to see her again, he decided to try a little humor. Clutching his hands to his chest, over his heart, he presented her with a crestfallen face. “Do I not even get a goodnight kiss?” he asked, as he struggled to contain his disappointment.
She laughed gently at him, her eyes aglow with mischief and he sighed with relief, grateful that she appeared to appreciate his sense of humor.
“Oh, I think I can manage that.” She tilted her head to one side and he was captivated by her lopsided smile.
She stood on tiptoe and appeared to be aiming for his cheek as she leaned toward him. No way was he going to settle for a peck when he had been burning for a taste of her. He turned his head and caught her lips, slowly caressing them with his own, savoring the taste of the woman and the drink she had consumed. He needed more and he pulled her unresisting body closer, enfolding her against his chest, as he gave into his craving. He ran the tip of his tongue along the seam of her mouth and she opened giving him access, allowing him to plunder and stroke her tongue with his own. Her arms crept up and around his neck in apparent surrender. He struggled to keep his kiss light and teasing, aware of the need to tread gently. She was still skittish, as though unaware of her appeal, and the last thing he wanted to do was frighten her.
He couldn’t get her close enough. He skimmed his hands down her sides and loved the delicious way she trembled when he brought her up against his erection. He cupped her bottom firmly enjoying the moans and whimpers of pleasure emanating from her throat. The sound of her desire fed his passion and he ground himself against her, letting her know how much he wanted her. Even as they kissed, he was aware of her hands digging into his shoulders as she clenched her fingers and tugged on his shirt encouraging him closer.
How long they stood necking like teenagers in the hallway he couldn’t say, but when he raised his head, they were both panting heavily and her eyes were slumberous with desire.
“Invite me in,” he growled, desperate now to bury himself within her body.
Christ, he was acting like a horny schoolboy. He could normally control his impulses. What the hell was it about this woman that fired him up so quickly? He fought to get himself back under control.
“Angel?” he questioned. He felt slightly nervous as he awaited her answer. He wasn’t used to having to persuade women into his bed. He tried to appear calm as he didn’t want to unsettle her, but his stomach muscles were clenched tight as he waited on her response.
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