that she spent the day having her appearance tuned up at a beauty salon. Nikolai wanted her to look the very best she could and why shouldn’t he?
* * *
Nikolai stilled in the hall as Ella descended the stairs with the caution of a woman wearing very high heels. The chandelier high above her head glittered over her metallic-bronze hair, picking out the deep auburn and gold strands and enhancing the radiance of her skin. The gown lengthened and shaped her tiny frame and the emerald pendant and earrings threw her luminous green eyes into striking prominence. A slow smile of satisfaction slashed Nikolai’s forbidding mouth. He was very much looking forward to the evening ahead. It would kill Cyrus to see the woman he wanted with his mortal enemy.
And that was what the entire exercise was all about, he reminded himself darkly. Striking a blow at Cyrus was the goal, not taking Ella to bed. He tensed. Taking Ella to bed to taste that soft white skin, play with those luscious little breasts and sink so deep into her that she wouldn’t know where he began and she ended. The erotic images sizzled through his brain, cutting through rational thought. Hunger thrummed through him instead, kicking off the pulse at his groin until he throbbed with hungry need. His even white teeth gritted while he fought the reaction because this wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
On the bottom step, Ella collided with Nikolai’s scorching dark golden eyes and her heart started banging like crazy inside her chest, every sense switching to super-sensitive levels. He was so beautiful it hurt. The luxuriant black of his hair, the sculpted slant of his hard cheekbones, the clean-shaven shadow outlining his strong jaw and wonderfully sensual and kissable lips. Taken aback by her own susceptibility, she sucked in a hasty breath and walked out to the waiting limousine with him.
‘I understand that this was your grandfather’s house. How long is it since he died?’ Ella asked quietly.
Nikolai tensed, long tanned fingers curling against a powerful thigh. ‘Five years.’
‘Were you close?’
‘No, I never met him...’
‘Never?’ Ella studied him wide-eyed. ‘And yet he left you his house?’
‘And his vast business empire. He wasn’t a sentimental man but having an heir of his own blood was tremendously important to him,’ Nikolai divulged grudgingly, loathing the topic of conversation but too proud and private to admit his sensitivity to it.
He had long since come to terms with his grandfather’s essential indifference to him as a human being. The old man had paid for his education, and thanks to that Nikolai had been able to build on his strengths and advance in life, he thought. Sadly his grandfather had not been equally generous to Nikolai’s sister, Sofia, because his sole interest had been in his male grandchild. Nikolai’s conscience was still weighted by the knowledge that his only sibling had had to leave school young, work in menial jobs in Athens and scrimp and save for survival. Even more regrettably he had come into his inheritance too late to protect or help the young woman who had been more of a mother to him than a sister. Sofia had died before he could express his gratitude or show his affection, because as a boy and young man he had been thoughtless and selfish, taking his only sibling for granted while making his home in London where he studied and worked for a pittance in those early years.
‘How strange,’ Ella remarked and, having picked up on his distaste for the subject, she said no more. She settled into the plush interior of the car.
‘This evening if you’re asked any nosy questions about our relationship just ignore them. We met last year and now we’re together. That’s all anyone needs to know,’ he told her flatly.
What Nikolai had mentioned was as much as she knew herself, which made it impossible for her to betray any secrets. And were there secrets? Oh, yes, she felt in her bones that there were. But prying was forbidden because she was only with Nikolai for her family’s benefit, she reminded herself firmly. She wasn’t planning to get involved with him or his life or his secrets. Neither was she about to take an interest in his preferences or his moods. As far as possible she would keep herself as detached as he was. In the circumstances that was her first and only line of defence.
‘Have you got that?’ Nikolai prompted in the silence.
‘Right. Got it,’ Ella made a teasing zipping motion along her mouth. ‘No chatterbox here to worry about.’
Nikolai studied her in surprise. With that dancing sparkle in her eyes and the cheeky tilt to her chin below the almost smiling, upward curve of her lush lips, she looked radiant. Involuntarily his gaze lingered. ‘You’re beautiful,’ he said without meaning to.
Disconcertion widened her eyes and she flushed, turning her head away to look out at the city streets flashing past the window. In the flare of the street lights his eyes had changed from onyx dark and guarded to that melted caramel shade she was so partial to and butterflies had fluttered in her tummy. Butterflies, as if she were a blasted schoolgirl! she scolded herself in disgust. Was there some foolish part of her trying to romanticise his plans for her? Yes, Nikolai Drakos wanted her...but only for a little while. He didn’t want her to keep. He didn’t want to get to know her concerns or share them. Sex would be superficial, fleeting. She had to stay sensible or she would get hurt because he was a terrifyingly attractive man, whose mystery simply gave him added depth.
As they left the limousine Nikolai banded a hand to her back. Her spine was rigid. She was as tense as he was. ‘By the way, you might see your old friend Cyrus Makris tonight.’
Ella frowned. ‘Cyrus isn’t back from China yet.’
‘He is,’ Nikolai contradicted. ‘But if he’s here tonight you don’t speak to him.’
Aghast at the command, Ella twisted round to look at his lean dark features, recognising the hardness etched there. ‘But—’
‘No argument. You’re with me now. You cut him dead,’ Nikolai instructed harshly.
‘Nikolai, that’s not fair.’
‘I never promised to play fair,’ he murmured impatiently as a stout older woman clad in a sequinned dress hailed him with enthusiasm.
Nikolai seemed to know everyone and a great wave of introductions engulfed Ella. Pre-dinner drinks were being served when a woman moved to a podium to make a speech about the victims of domestic abuse. By the time she had finished speaking, Nikolai had embarked on a conversation with two men and with a whisper Ella headed off to find the cloakroom.
And that was the moment when she finally saw Cyrus. He crossed the foyer to intercept her. He was smaller, slighter than Nikolai, blond and blue-eyed with wings of grey at the temples. ‘Ella... I couldn’t believe it was you. What on earth are you doing here?’
Ella reddened, uneasy with the intensity of his stare and the angry flush on his cheeks. ‘I was planning to ring you but we haven’t spoken since you left.’
‘Your grandmother told me you were in London but said she didn’t have your address.’
‘I haven’t had the chance to give it to her yet. I only arrived here today,’ she told him uncomfortably, forced to come to a halt when he closed a hand round her wrist, his grip painfully tight. ‘I’ve met someone, Cyrus.’
‘How is that possible? You hardly go out.’
‘You were always telling me to go out,’ she reminded him.
