She reassured everyone that she was fine, mini drama over, and patted Tom’s arm. ‘Stop with the guilty look. I’m fine.’
‘I can’t help feeling bad. Let me take you up and get you a cool drink.’
She was about to say she’d like that when Leo interrupted, ‘The doctor ordered rest.’
Lexi turned to find Leo glowering at Tom. ‘I can—’
‘Go to your room,’ he said, his eyes on Tom.
Lexi felt her hackles rise at his proprietorial air. ‘I’m fine,’ she asserted.
He swung his blue eyes to hers and Lexi had to force herself not to feel intimidated. ‘Good to know.’ He stepped between her and Tom. ‘One thing, angel.’ He leaned close and lowered his tone so only she could hear and Lexi sucked in her breath to ensure that they didn’t touch. ‘If you’re going to be having sex with anyone this weekend it won’t be Tom Shepherd.’
Lexi blinked and before her befuddled brain could formulate any sort of decent response he had stalked past her and taken the curved staircase up to the next level, two steps at a time.
WHAT on earth had he meant by that?
Lexi had asked herself the same question over and over all afternoon. She wasn’t planning to have sex with anyone that weekend, let alone Tom Shepherd. And Leo’s comment had been insulting in the extreme, implying that she was inviting attention, which she most definitely wasn’t.
And if she wasn’t going to have sex with Tom, then who was he thinking would take his place? Certainly not him if the way he’d jumped on her request that they forget all about those scorching kisses back on the beach was any indication.
Lexi leaned towards her bathroom mirror and swiped bronze eye shadow across her eyelids and then rubbed at the corner of her eye when she applied too much.
To say that Leo’s behaviour confused her would be an understatement. Anyone would think that his behaviour towards her after the accident was possessive but, really, he was probably just concerned she was going to slap him with a law suit.
Deciding on a soft pink lip gloss, she stood back from the mirror and eyed herself critically. Her figure was neat and small and entirely unremarkable, although she did like the way her breasts looked in the halter-style amber maxi-dress she had bought in the sales last year and hadn’t had a chance to wear yet. At least it made her look as if she had cleavage.
Shoving it into her weekend bag while Leo had prowled around her living room while she packed had been a spur of the moment decision but now she wondered if it wasn’t a little risqué. Not that she had anything else suitable to wear to his soiree tonight. A soirée she didn’t even want to attend but had been informed she was expected to. And why was that? And why was her heart beating faster at the thought?
She stretched the silky fabric of her dress over her breasts, which suddenly seemed heavy and overly sensitive as they chafed the soft fabric. She traced her hands along the outer swell of each breast, remembering how Leo’s much larger ones had skimmed that exact place hours earlier and her nipples tightened into aching points. A light thrumming feeling took up residence between her thighs as she imagined his mouth at her breast, his tongue. She imagined him taking her flesh into his mouth, could almost see the back of his blond head as she gazed at herself in the mirror.
A small whimper escaped from her lips and Lexi dropped her hands, her eyes slightly dazed as she gazed at her reflection. This was ridiculous. The man turned on the entire female population. Was she really considering adding herself to their ranks? Knowing the type of man he was? And, worse, knowing he would undoubtedly be disappointed with her sexually—as Brandon had been?
Oh, why was she even thinking like this?
She viciously twisted her heavy mass of hair into a bun and started stabbing pins into it.
A man who could have anyone did not go for moderately pretty girls unless they threw themselves at him and that was about as likely to happen as her being asked to model in a Victoria’s Secret parade!
Lexi glanced down and realised she had used up the whole board of hairpins. Disgusted at her distracted thoughts, she stepped into high-heeled sandals and went to check on Ty.
Once she’d done that, she arrived in a ballroom the size of a basketball court, dimly lit by crystal chandeliers and alive with the happy chatter of Leo’s guests and a live jazz band set up in the corner beside a wooden dance floor.
She swept her gaze around the room and her heart stopped beating when she noticed that Katya had taken up residence by Leo’s side and it would have taken a crowbar to prise her away from him.
And he didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact he was welcoming her attentions, his hand laying across the small of her back whenever she leaned in to whisper something to him—which appeared to be every five seconds.
Lexi’s breath caught as her eyes drifted over Leo in a sleekly tailored black tuxedo. The black bow tie—which she had always found a touch effeminate on other men—only served to enhance his dangerous appeal—drawing attention to the strong column of his tanned neck and square jaw. The jacket hugged wide shoulders and drew in around his lean, hard-packed waist.
The tall model, dressed in a tiny white dress that loved every one of her generous curves and set off her red-gold hair, which hung like a smooth sheet down her back, the perfect feminine foil for his masculine sensuality. The yin to his yang.
Lexi drew in a sharp breath and tried to convince herself that she wasn’t upset. Because he really wasn’t her type and yet she literally ached to have him touch her again. To touch him. She could explain it away when she had been half asleep, or half-drowned, but now, in a room full of party-goers, his effect on her was a little hard to fob off.
Not wanting to dwell on something she couldn’t fully understand, she startled a waiter by whisking a glass of champagne off his tray as he walked past. Not that she knew why she bothered because she doubted she’d be able to get a millimetre of the delicious liquid past the boulder lodged in her throat.
She felt her breathing take on an uneven kilter and her heart pound and for a minute she felt lost and completely humiliated. Because, even though she had taken umbrage with Leo’s kisses, with his possessive behaviour in front of Tom, a small part of her had thought that … what? That he might actually want to be with her? That he might seriously find her attractive? That he might have invited her to his party to be with him?
She felt like a fool. A fool who had dressed up for nothing.
No, not nothing. She would have a good time if it killed her.
‘Care to dance, omorphe kopella?’
Lexi turned at the sound of a deep Mediterranean voice beside her. The man who had spoken to her was tall, though not as tall as Leo, and clean-shaven, with raven black hair and a cleft in his chin.
‘My name is Anton Pompidou. I am a lawyer with the Greek government.’
‘I’m Lexi Somers. Childcare manager.’
He
