how urgent his need to see her again had been as soon as he’d walked into the main reception room. It had also made him uncomfortable how vividly her image had come back to him in his recent shower, forcing him to turn the temperature to cold.
And now her image surged back again, mocking his attempts to thrust it aside. He recalled how she’d looked, with a dark flush on her cheeks, those intensely light blue eyes wide and ringed with thick black lashes, staring at him like a startled fawn. As if she’d never seen a man before.
She had a tiny beauty spot just on the edge of a full lower lip, and he grimaced when he felt the effect remembering that had on his lower body. He hated having such an arbitrary response. But when he’d seen her arrive by the pool and do her work, with quick, economic movements, her glossy light brown hair pulled into a high topknot, something about her had stirred him. Something about her intense preoccupation, for patently she hadn’t noticed him in the pool. And Leo was not a man who was used to going unnoticed.
When he’d caught her against him in that completely instinctive move tendrils of her hair had come free and framed her face and the defined line of her jaw, making him want to slip his hand into the glossy strands and cause it to fall down around her shoulders. He could almost feel it over his hands now, the heavy silky weight.
Irritation spiked again. Where was she? Had she been a figment of his imagination? His father approached then, with a colleague, and Leo forced a benign smile to his mouth, hating the fact that he was in thrall to a nameless waitress.
Distracting him momentarily was the reality he now faced of just how frail his father had become, even since he’d seen him last. As if something within him had shifted subtly but profoundly. He felt a deep-seated sense of inevitability steal over him, he was needed here, his own empire notwithstanding. But was his place really here? He tried out the word now: home. His heart beat fast.
He thought of his sterile, yet state-of-the-art penthouse apartment in New York; the steel and silver skyscrapers of the world he inhabited. He thought of his impeccably groomed and very experienced blonde mistress; he thought of what it might be like to walk away from all of that—and he felt … nothing.
Athens, being here for the past week, had confounded his every expectation. He’d thought he’d feel nothing. On the contrary, he felt as though he’d been plugged into something deeply primal within his soul. Something had been brought to life, and wouldn’t be pushed back to some dim and distant recess.
Just then, as if to compound this feeling, he caught sight of something in the far corner of the room. Glossy hair piled high, a long neck. A familiar slim back. Leo’s heart started to thud, this time to a very different beat.
Angel was trying to keep her head down and not meet anyone’s eye. She’d done her best to stay in the kitchen, preparing the trays, but her boss had eventually sent her up to the main salon as she was his most experienced staff member.
At that moment she caught a pointed frowning look from Aristotle Levakis across the room—he was business partner to Parnassus, and her stomach quivered with renewed panic. This was a disaster in the making. Aristotle Levakis knew her, because their fathers had been friendly before Aristotle’s father had died. Angel could remember that Aristotle had been to one or two parties at her father’s house over the years.
In the act of offering some red wine to a small group of people, she had to keep going, but then she got accidentally jostled by another waiter. The tray tipped off balance, and with mounting horror Angel watched four glasses full of red wine disgorge their contents all over a beautiful woman’s pristine and very white designer dress.
For a second nothing happened. The woman was just looking down at her dress, aghast. And then it came, her voice so shrill that Angel winced. Conversely, at the same time, an awful silence seemed to descend.
‘You stupid, stupid girl—’
But then, just as suddenly, a huge dark shape appeared at Angel’s side, and she barely had time to take in a breath before she registered that it was the man from the pool. Her heart skipped a beat, before starting again erratically. He sent her a quick wink before taking the gasping woman aside to speak to her in low, hushed tones, and Angel saw her boss hurry forward to take the matter in hand.
Her boss and the woman were summarily dispatched, and then the man turned around to face Angel. Words dropped into her head but made no sense. He was so downright intimidating in an exquisite tuxedo that shock was rendering her speechless, breathless and motionless.
He calmly took the now empty tray from her hand and passed it to another waiter. The mess from the fallen drinks was already being cleared up. Angel would have protested that she should look after it, if she could have spoken.
Everyone else in the immediate vicinity seemed to melt away, and with a light, yet commanding touch from his hand on her arm Angel felt herself being manoeuvred across the room, until they’d walked through a set of open patio doors and out to the blessed quiet of the grand terrace.
The cool and fragrant evening air curled around Angel like a caress, but she felt hot, right down to her very core. Hot from embarrassment and hot from where this man’s big hand was curled around her upper arm. They came to a stop beside a low wall, beyond which a pristine lawn sloped gently downwards and off into the distance.
Silence surrounded them, thick and heavy, the muted sounds of the party coming from behind the closed patio doors. Had he closed the doors? The thought of him doing that to give them privacy made her shiver. She looked up, and with a disconcerting amount of effort pulled her arm free from his light, yet devastating grip. He smiled down at her, putting his hands in his pockets, and he looked so rakishly handsome that Angel felt weak all over again. Hair that had been slicked back with water was now thick and glossy, a little over-long.
‘So … we meet again.’
Angel forced her brain to retain a small sliver of sanity, but no matter how much she wanted it to, she feared her voice wouldn’t come out as cool as she hoped for. ‘I’m sorry … you must think me an awful klutz. I’m not normally so clumsy. Thank you for …’ She gestured to the room, thinking of the red stain spreading over the woman’s white dress again and feeling sick. ‘For defusing the situation, but I don’t think my boss will forgive me for it. That dress looked like it was worth about a year’s worth of my wages.’
He took a hand out of his pocket and waved it nonchalantly. ‘Consider it taken care of. I saw what happened, it was an accident.’
Angel gasped. ‘I can’t let you do a thing like that. I don’t even know you.’ His insouciance and casual display of wealth made something cold lodge in her chest. It was a rejection from deep within her of this whole social scene. She’d grown up with it and it reminded her too much of the darkness in her own family.
His eyes glinted with something dangerous. ‘On the contrary, I’d say that we’re well on the way to becoming … acquainted.’
An electric current seemed to spring into action in that moment. The man moved closer to Angel, closing the small distance between them, and the breath lodged in her throat. She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. His eyes held hers, and for the second time that day she noted the way they seemed to burn with a golden light.
He lifted a hand and trailed his finger down one cheek to the delicate line of her jaw. It left a line of tingling fire in its wake.
‘I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.’
The
