sheet and she cocked her head, her narrowed gaze sweeping over him. ‘So what would happen if I was pregnant?’
Alekos hesitated. ‘I take my responsibilities seriously.’
‘Which means?’
His mouth firmed into a hard line. ‘We’ll address that situation if it occurs.’
‘How reassuring.’ She stalked out of the bedroom, nearly tripping over the edge of the sheet, and Alekos watched her go, caught between frustration and regret. He still couldn’t believe he’d lost control of himself so completely. What was it about her that had enflamed him so? Perhaps it had simply been a matter of needs must; he had not had a woman in his bed in months, thanks to his demanding work schedule. At this point he couldn’t imagine what else it could have been.
He walked into the sitting room of the suite; Iolanthe’s narrow back was to him as she struggled to fasten her bra.
‘Let me help—’
‘No.’ Her voice shook and she took a deep breath. ‘The kindest thing you can do is wait in the bedroom while I get myself out of here.’ Another breath. ‘Please.’ She slipped into her dress, struggling to zip it up even halfway.
‘I don’t want to leave you like this.’
‘But you want me to leave.’
For a second Alekos considered the alternative. Having her stay. Getting to know her. Marrying her, even. Then he thought of all the accompanying emotional risks and his heart shut that possibility right down. ‘Iolanthe, please. Let me take you home, at least.’
‘My father is waiting downstairs.’ She let out a high, trembling laugh. ‘And trust me, I don’t want him to know where I’ve been.’
‘Will you...will you be in trouble?’ Alekos asked in a low voice. It was the twenty-first century, after all. How shameful was it for a twenty-year-old woman to have sex? A twenty-year-old virgin who had told him her father would arrange her marriage?
Alekos closed his eyes in guilty regret. What the hell had he been thinking? He owed Iolanthe more than this. ‘Please, Iolanthe, let me help you.’
‘How?’ she demanded, and before Alekos could answer he heard voices from the hall and then, to his incredulous amazement, the door to the suite swung open. He blinked in stunned surprise at the sight of the man Iolanthe had been dancing with, and, behind him, Alekos’s nemesis, Talos Petrakis.
‘What the hell—?’ Alekos began, but he didn’t get a chance to say anything else for Petrakis’s burly bodyguards swarmed in and grabbed him, twisting his arms painfully behind his back.
‘Papa!’
In stunned horror Alekos watched Iolanthe move to her father, her arms outstretched.
‘Get behind me, Iolanthe,’ Petrakis said in a low voice, but Alekos didn’t hear what else the man said. Papa? Petrakis was Iolanthe’s father?
‘Deal with him,’ Petrakis bit out with a nod towards Alekos. The bodyguards started hustling him towards the door. Alekos struggled against them and received a sharp elbow in his kidneys for his pains.
‘I’m not a naïve university student any more,’ he grated as he continued to struggle to resist the two men. ‘You can’t treat me like this, Petrakis—’
Petrakis did not spare him so much as a glance. ‘Iolanthe,’ he said, and he put his arm around his daughter. ‘Come with me.’
The last thing Alekos saw was Iolanthe’s pale face as her father shepherded her away.
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