Butterflies leapt in Louise’s stomach. If you act confident he won’t be able to intimidate you, she told herself. But the butterflies still danced, and her legs felt wobbly as she balanced on her four-inch heels and entered the lion’s den.
‘So, when did Loulou Hobbs become Louise Frobisher?’
Dimitri was seated behind a huge mahogany desk. He did not get to his feet when Louise walked in and his expression remained impassive, so that she had no idea what he was thinking, but he exuded an air of power and authority that she found daunting. Her brain also registered that he was utterly gorgeous, with his dark, Mediterranean colouring and sculpted features, and as she met his cool stare her heart jolted against her ribcage.
After his PA had slipped discreetly from the room Dimitri leaned back in his chair and surveyed Louise in a frank appraisal that brought a warm flush to her cheeks. She fought the urge to tug on the hem of her skirt to try and make it appear longer. It wasn’t even that short—only an inch or so above her knees, she reminded herself. But her elegant, sophisticated outfit, yes, a little bit provocative—chosen deliberately in the hope of boosting her self-confidence—was very different from the smart but practical navy suit she wore every day to the museum.
Unlike her mother, who had been an avid attention-seeker, Louise was quite happy to blend into the background. She wasn’t used to being looked at the way Dimitri was looking at her—as if she was an attractive woman and he was imagining her without any clothes on! Her face burned hotter. Of course he was not picturing her naked. That wasn’t a glint of sexual awareness in his olive-green eyes. It was just the sunlight slanting through the blinds and reflecting in his retinas.
He had found her attractive once before, whispered a voice in her head. And if she was absolutely honest hadn’t she chosen her outfit because she’d hoped to impress him—to show him what he had lost? Once he had told her she was beautiful. But that hadn’t been real, her common sense pointed out. It had been part of the cruel game he’d been playing with her, and the memories of what had happened between them on Eirenne were best left undisturbed.
‘Are you married? Is Frobisher your husband’s name?’
The curt questions took her by surprise. Dimitri’s face was still inscrutable but she suddenly sensed an inexplicable tension about him.
She shook her head. ‘No—I’m not married. I have always been Louise Frobisher. My mother called me by that silly nickname when I was younger, but I prefer to use my real name. And I was never Hobbs. I was given my father’s surname, even though Tina wasn’t married to him. They split up when I was a few months old and he refused to support her or me.’
Dimitri’s face hardened at the mention of her mother. ‘It doesn’t surprise me to hear that your father was one of a long list of Tina’s lovers. You’re lucky she even remembered his name.’
‘You’re hardly one to talk,’ Louise shot back, instantly defensive.
In truth Tina had not been the best parent in the world. Louise had spent much of her childhood dumped in various boarding schools, while her mother had flitted around Europe with whichever man she’d hooked up with at the time. But now Tina was ill, and it no longer mattered that as a child Louise had often felt she was a nuisance who disrupted her mother’s busy social life. Even in today’s world of advanced medical science the word cancer evoked a feeling of dread, and the prospect of losing her mother had made Louise realise how much she cared about her.
‘From what I’ve seen in media reports you relish being a billionaire playboy with an endless supply of beautiful mistresses. I accept that my mother isn’t perfect, but are you any better, Dimitri?’
‘I don’t break up marriages,’ he said harshly. ‘I’ve never stolen someone’s partner or wrecked a perfectly happy relationship. It is an irrefutable fact that your mother broke my mother’s heart.’
His bitter words hit Louise like bullets, and even though she had nothing to feel guilty about she wished for the millionth time that her mother had not had an affair with Kostas Kalakos.
‘It takes two people to make a relationship,’ she said quietly. ‘Your father chose to leave your mother for Tina …’
‘Only because she chased him relentlessly and seduced him with every trick in her no doubt extensive sexual repertoire.’ Dimitri’s voice dripped with contempt. ‘Tina Hobbs knew exactly who my father was when she “bumped into him” at a party in Monaco. It was not the chance meeting she convinced you it was. She knew Kostas would be there, and she managed to wangle an invitation to that party with the absolute intention of catching herself a rich lover.’
Dimitri’s nostrils flared as he sought to control the anger that still burned inside him whenever he thought of his father’s mistress. The first time he’d set eyes on Tina Hobbs he had seen her for what she was—an avaricious harlot who attached herself like a leech to any rich man stupid enough to fall for a pair of big breasts and the promise of sexual nirvana.
That was what had got to him the most. The realisation that his father hadn’t been as clever or wonderful as he had believed had hurt. He’d lost respect for Kostas, who had been his idol, and even now he still felt a hard knot inside when he remembered how his illusions had been shattered.
Anger filled him with a restless energy, and he scraped back his chair and jerked to his feet. He frowned when Louise immediately edged backwards towards the door. It wasn’t her fault that her mother was a greedy, manipulating bitch, he reminded himself. Louise had been a child when Tina had met Kostas—a gawky kid with braces on her teeth and an annoying habit of staring down at the ground as if she hoped she would sink through it and become invisible.
To tell the truth he hadn’t taken much notice of her on the occasions when he had visited his father on the Kalakos family’s private Aegean island and she had been staying there with her mother during the school holidays.
It had been a shock when he had gone to the island that final time—after the row with his father—and the girl he had known as Loulou had been there alone. Only she hadn’t been a girl. She had been nineteen—on the brink of womanhood and innocently unaware of her allure. He’d had no idea when exactly the awkward teenager who had been too shy to say a word to him had transformed into an articulate, intelligent and beautiful adult. For the first time in his life his usual self-assurance had deserted him and he had found himself struggling to know what to say to her.
He had resolved the problem by kissing her …
Dimitri hauled his mind back to the present. Trips down memory lane were never a good idea. But as he stared at the unexpected visitor who had interrupted his tightly organised work schedule, he acknowledged that in the past seven years Loulou—or Louise—had realised the potential she had shown at nineteen and developed into a stunner.
He ran his eyes over her, taking in her long honey-blond hair which was parted on one side so that it curved around her heart-shaped face and fell halfway down her back in a tumble of glossy curls. Her eyes were a deep sapphire-blue, and her red-glossed lips were a serious temptation.
Desire corkscrewed in his gut as he lowered his gaze and noted the way her fitted scarlet jacket moulded the firm thrust of her breasts and emphasised her narrow waist. Her skirt was short and her legs, sheathed in pale hose, were long and slender. Black stiletto heels added at least three inches to her height.
He trailed his eyes slowly back up her body and lingered on her mouth. Soft, moist lips slightly parted
