pulse kicked into a faster beat as he moved into her office.
‘Working late?’
His voice was deceptively mild, his eyes faintly hooded as he took in her pale features, the dark circles beneath her eyes. She looked beat, almost fragile, and at a guess she was harbouring a headache.
Alesha deliberately focused her attention on the computer screen. ‘And you’re here…why?’
‘I need to collect a file which hasn’t been uploaded into the computer system.’
A mark against Dimitri’s recently reassigned PA?
Her father had expected efficiency…but not to the level demanded beneath Loukas’ direction.
‘Tough day?’
Like you wouldn’t believe. ‘I’m almost done.’
‘Good. You can share Chinese with me.’
She lifted her head and saw the paper sack he placed on her desk. ‘You brought food?’ Her stomach did a slow roll in anticipatory pleasure.
‘I missed lunch.’ And opted out of an in-flight meal that failed to provide sufficient sustenance to fuel a minimum four hours’ work. Following an intense few days of meetings, staff reorganization, and ironing out several kinks in the Karsouli infrastructure.
He thrived on brokering high-powered deals, but Karsouli was personal. Aware of the need for a different approach from the slash and burn techniques for which he’d gained a formidable reputation.
The necessity to input a few hours’ work didn’t faze him. What he hadn’t expected to see when he entered the office building’s underground parking area was Alesha’s silver BMW stationary in its parking bay.
Loukas heard her faint sigh as she hit save and closed down. With deft movements he snapped open the various containers and handed her a set of chopsticks.
‘Eat.’
She did, with evident enjoyment. ‘Thanks. This is so much better than a boiled egg and salad.’
‘No girls’ night out?’
‘The male stripper called in sick.’ Her response was slick, and she was almost sure she caught a faint gleam of humour apparent in his dark eyes.
‘No replacement available?’
‘Unfortunately.’
His presence unsettled her. There was something about him…a dangerous sexual chemistry combined with a primitive earthy quality that promised much.
It filled her with a curious tension, combining reluctant anticipation with a sense of trepidation.
Which seemed crazy. She didn’t even like him.
Or was that due to an emotional shutdown…hers? A case of ‘if you don’t think about it, it won’t happen’.
Some chance.
She should leave.
With that thought in mind, she gathered her jacket, her laptop and briefcase. ‘You have work to do.’
He stood up. ‘I’ll see you down to the car.’
‘That’s not necessary.’
He merely slanted an eyebrow and indicated she precede him. ‘I consider it is.’
She was tempted to argue. Instead she summoned a sweet smile. ‘How…’ she paused, then added with delicate intent ‘…kind.’
Her eyes widened as he trailed light fingers down her cheek in an unexpected gesture that stole the breath from her throat.
‘Get some sleep.’ Then he dropped his hand, and she stood still for a few heart-stopping seconds before brushing past him.
Thankfully the lift doors opened the instant she pressed the call-button, and she moved in ahead of him, then stood in silence as the cubicle transported them swiftly down to basement level.
It took only minutes to reach her car, and she released the locking mechanism, slid behind the wheel, engaged the ignition and drove towards the ramp leading to street level without a backwards glance.
Traffic in the inner city had eased from its peak-hour exodus, and she reached her apartment with a sense of relief.
A hot shower, attired in sleepwear, a cup of tea plus a couple of painkillers in hand, she curled up in a comfortable chair to watch TV for an hour or two before she retired for the night.
On the edge of sleep came the intrusive knowledge that tomorrow she would marry Loukas.
Share his home, his bed, eventually.
How long would he allow her solitary occupation in a bed next to his own? A few nights…a week?
Did it matter?
She told herself she didn’t care. Sex was just…sex. In the dark of night she could simply close her eyes and wait for the act to be over.
How difficult could it be?
TWO wedding days three years apart, Alesha mused as she put the finishing touches to her make-up. Each so completely different they were at opposite ends of the spectrum!
Having done the full bridal thing with designer dress, four bridesmaids, flower girl, page boy, the church, several hundred guests, the tiered wedding cake and exclusive reception with her marriage to Seth, the prospect of a civil ceremony by a celebrant held in the grounds of the groom’s Point Piper home with Dimitri’s lawyer and Lacey as witnesses seemed a breeze by comparison.
So why was she a mass of nerves?
‘You look gorgeous.’ Lacey’s compliment was genuine, and should have acted as reassurance. Instead the nerves inside Alesha’s stomach twisted into a tighter ball.
‘Thanks.’
Lacey looked at the overnight bag resting at the end of the bed. ‘Is that all you’re taking with you?’
‘It’s enough for the weekend.’
‘Darling,’ Lacey chided. ‘You’re moving in with Loukas. Permanently. You need to pack.’
‘I’ll shift some of my stuff tomorrow.’
‘Hello?’ The admonishment held a degree of musing scepticism.
Arguing with Lacey was a losing battle as her friend flung open wardrobe doors, drawers, and quickly transferred a varied assortment of apparel into a suitcase.
‘Okay, we’re
