as the second wife of Miles Bartholomew, Angela had been perfectly within her rights to ask her stepdaughter to find somewhere else to live—especially as Gemini must have been twenty-four or five at the time—but morally…
But as he had already assured Gemini once today, unfortunately morality often had very little to do with anything!
‘Then you will give your current address to the receptionist downstairs when you leave so that the car can be directed there,’ he ordered.
‘I’ll go down to Reception with Gemini,’ Markos offered.
Drakon shot his cousin a narrow-eyed glance as he once again sensed Markos’s interest in this ethereally beautiful young woman. ‘I am sure Miss Bartholomew, having already managed to force herself into my presence today, is more than capable of taking herself down in the lift,’ he drawled dismissively, feeling an inner satisfaction as he saw the guilty flush that instantly warmed Gemini’s cheeks.
Markos gave an amused smile. ‘I’m sure she is too. But wouldn’t it be better if one of us were to ensure she has actually left the building?’
The blush deepened in Gemini’s cheeks. ‘I resent the implication that I’m some sort of criminal who needs escorting from the premises!’ she defended irritably.
‘Forgive me if I inadvertently gave that impression,’ Markos apologised.
She nodded. ‘I only behaved in the way that I did earlier because I needed to speak to your cousin on a—a personal matter, and it seemed to be the only way to achieve that.’
Drakon now sensed Markos’s speculative green gaze on him, aware that after their earlier conversation his cousin no doubt now believed that ‘personal matter’ was something totally other than what it actually was. ‘Escort the lady downstairs by all means, Markos,’ he said as he strolled across the room to join them. ‘Until later this evening, Gemini,’ he added huskily, before turning to descend the spiral staircase without so much as a backward glance.
‘Do I have a smudge of dirt on my nose or something?’ Gemini shot a puzzled frown at the man standing beside her in the lift as she sensed his silent appraisal.
‘Not at all.’ Markos shook his head. ‘It’s just—Drakon has never mentioned knowing you before today.’
Her brows rose. ‘That’s probably because he didn’t know me before today!’
‘No?’
‘Mr Lyonedes—’
‘Markos,’ he reminded her smoothly.
Oh, he was a charmer, this one, Gemini acknowledged ruefully—but she had no doubt that there was a will of steel every bit as forceful as his cousin’s beneath that outer charm. ‘Why don’t you just say what you have to say, Markos?’ she invited.
He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘I am merely curious as to your reason for coming here today.’
Gemini smiled. ‘There’s really nothing for you to be curious about.’
‘No?’
‘No,’ she stated firmly.
‘But I am correct in assuming you are Miles Bartholomew’s daughter?’
Gemini tensed warily. ‘Yes…’
Markos pursed his lips. ‘As I thought.’
And he was no doubt thinking a lot of other things if he was aware of his cousin’s very personal relationship with Gemini’s stepmother!
If Angela were to learn that she was having dinner with Drakon this evening, it would no doubt result in her stepmother throwing one of her temper tantrums. But that was Drakon’s problem, not Gemini’s; there really was nothing more Angela could do to her that she hadn’t already done!
‘Well, it’s been nice meeting you, Markos.’ Gemini’s smile was now brightly non-committal, and she stepped out of the lift as soon as the doors opened onto the ground floor. ‘I’ll be sure and leave my address with the receptionist on my way out.’
Thankfully Markos took that for the dismissal it was meant to be and remained standing inside the private lift. ‘I hope you enjoy your dinner with Drakon this evening.’ He nodded his farewell, amusement still dancing in those deep green eyes as the lift doors slowly closed.
Whether that amusement was directed at Gemini or his cousin, she wasn’t sure…
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