cuffs, the leather strap of that exorbitantly expensive watch she’d noticed the night they’d met. Still, his long-limbed pose was lithe and it radiated power—the kind of power that came from wealth, the way her father’s had.
Yet Luke—Luke Xenakis, she reminded herself forcibly, of XL Holdings—had pursued her father’s ailing company with a power that had nothing to do with his wealth. A power that he could exert over her with a mere flick of those dark lidded eyes, a twist of that sensual mouth…
She felt herself almost swaying as memories assaulted her: his arms tightening around her, his mouth opening hers to his, his hands gliding over her body that had trembled at his silken touch…
With a silent groan she tore her mind away. What use were those memories here, in this austere office, with its views out over the glacial alpine lake and the jagged, snow-capped mountains soaring all around, as icy as the coldness in the eyes that had once burned with heat for her?
She felt something wither inside her under the cold indifference of his gaze, and knew she must banish from her memory the night she had spent with him, with this man she had given herself to so gloriously and so freely—the man who had thrown open the gate of her prison, offering her a beguiling glimpse of the freedom and bliss that could be hers.
As always, her prison doors had closed on her and were still shut. For now, as then, her first responsibility must be to her mother, to protect her from the catastrophe that had engulfed them with her father’s ruin. She must protect her from blows she could not cope with yet, and soften the final blow of losing her last refuge from the bleak poverty she was going to have to face.
She knew she must not run from Luke in an effort to try to end the torment of seeing him again and feeling his coldness towards her, and nor should she throw herself at him to beg him to listen to why she’d had to leave him as she had, though she desperately wanted to do both. She must accept whatever he offered her if it helped protect her mother just a little longer.
She forced herself to focus on what he was saying, to try to make sense of it. ‘What…what do you mean?’
She saw a veil come down over his eyes—another layer of inscrutable protection. He was so close to her and yet so infinitely far away. Something ached inside her at the distance between them now. With every instinct in her being she knew that he had not forgiven her for walking out on him that morning, leaving him after such a night as they had shared.
For a moment she wanted to cry out, to tell him why she had left like that, to try and make him understand that her life had never been hers to live as she wanted.
That it still wasn’t.
Whatever ‘alternative arrangement’ Luke had in mind, she’d have to go along with it—if it was the only way to let her mother go on living at the villa she had no choice. She had to buy the time that she so desperately needed to get her mother to face the brutal truth of how they had to live now—time to find a cheap place to move to, to get herself a job and earn money for the food they were going to eat from now on…
Her tired mind fogged as she made herself listen to what he was saying.
‘I may have a job for you.’
She frowned.
‘You told me you were an interior designer,’ he went on. ‘Are you only residential or do you have commercial experience?’
She blinked, remembering instantly the conversation they’d had, brief though it had been, as they’d introduced themselves to each other.
But we left out the most important information.
She gave a slight nod, swallowing with a dry throat.
‘Very well. In that case, I’m embarking on a new business venture—a potential refurbishment project—your skills might come in useful to me. If so…’ he was watching her speculatively through those veiled lashes of his ‘…I would accept your work in lieu of rent—if that is agreeable to you.’
Talia stared. The hope that had flared so pathetically briefly when he had first said there would be no problem in her staying on at the villa—before naming his price for that—sparked into life again.
‘Yes! Yes, of course—’
The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. The fact she would be working for the man who had brought down her father, who now owned everything that he had once possessed, was irrelevant.
She saw him sit back, cross one leg over the other and steeple his long fingers—fingers that had once trailed through her loosened hair and skimmed the contours of her naked body…
She dragged her mind away and stifled the inner voice that was telling her she was insane even to think of working for a man she had spent such a night with and who was now regarding her as nothing more than an employee.
But I have no choice in the matter. If he is offering me a job I have to take it—I have to! If it lets Mum stay on in the villa… If it buys me time…
She swallowed again. ‘When…when do I start?’
She watched him smooth a hand over his thigh in a controlled, leisurely fashion, his eyes never leaving her, revealing nothing of what might be behind that leaden gaze.
‘I’m flying out at the end of the week. Meet me at Heathrow,’ he informed her.
Consternation filled Talia’s face. ‘Flying out? Where?’
‘The Caribbean. I’ll be there a fortnight—so will you.’
Violently, she shook her head. A fortnight? ‘I couldn’t! Impossible!’
It would be impossible to spend two weeks with Luke—and in the very place they had fantasised about that night together. About running away to a sun-drenched tropical island, a palm-fringed beach, with no cares or responsibilities or prison doors to stop her…
The cruelty of it mocked her. Mocked her with the torment of the prospect of having to be with him again as he was now—so cold, so distant…
She saw him shrug again—a gesture of indifference. And that was all he felt for her now, she knew.
‘In which case be out of the Marbella villa next week.’
Talia shut her eyes as if she could shut out the reality of this situation. How could she turn down this offer he was making her? She couldn’t. She had no choice.
Luke was speaking again. ‘You can have twenty-four hours to make your decision. Phone my PA when you’ve made it.’
He uncrossed his legs, extending them under the wide mahogany desk, and reached for his keypad. Talia swallowed. It was a signal that she was being dismissed.
Numbly, she walked from the office.
Behind her, Luke lifted his gaze as she walked out. She could not have spelt out more clearly how repugnant she found the notion of spending time with him.
Memory
