Chapter Three #3
Vayle blew out a relieved breath when she made it downstairs without encountering either Andreas or Capaldi.
She’d been half-afraid they’d appear like a nightmare and inform her she was to stay in her room until Nelios gave her express permission to leave.
Was he so confident she’d stay put—that he had her exactly where he wanted her?
Yes. Unfortunately.
Mildly grumpy at the thought, she entered the hotel boutique and just as quickly exited when the eye-watering prices and disdainful looks told her she was out of her league.
The warm sultry air, even at that time of the evening, was welcome as she hurried towards the brighter lights that, thankfully, produced shops in her price range.
Within fifteen minutes she’d secured dark indigo jeans, stylish enough to pass muster as smart-casual, and two tops: one a sleeveless black satin peplum and the other a flowery lilac billow-sleeved blouse she could wear during the day.
Her kitten heels would work with both. Adding a couple of accessories and paying quickly, she hightailed it back to her suite and into the shower.
She tidied her hair into a loose bun with a compact hairbrush, and she was halfway through pulling on her clothes when the knock sounded. Buttoning her jeans, she caught up the hook earrings and managed to secure one, only to get flustered when the other one refused to situate in her lobe.
The knock came again, more insistently.
Stifling a curse, she rushed towards the door. ‘I’m coming!’
Still attempting to do up the side-zip of her top and slide one hoop in her ear, she gave up with the earring, turned the handle and immediately turned away.
‘I’ll be another minute, Capaldi. Sorry, time got away from me.
’ She tried a second time, blew out a breath when she got the hoop into her ear, then tackled the zip once more.
At the taut silence, she frowned over her shoulder.
Nelios stood tall and imposing in the doorway, dark-brown eyes fixed squarely on her. A shudder slammed out of nowhere, rippling through her body.
Shock—it was shock—not sizzling awareness with a heavy dose of electricity that gripped her very core and rattled it mercilessly.
‘Oh, I thought you were Capaldi.’
‘That is apparent.’ His searing scrutiny and biting tone froze her as he stepped into the room and shut the door, her hand still on the zip of the top that half-gaped, displaying the side edges of her bra.
Face flaming when his gaze tracked her from top to bottom, she twisted away and tried to finish what should’ve been a simple task but had instead become an arduous challenge.
‘Are you in the habit of letting men into your room while half-dressed?’ he asked.
She snorted. ‘Hardly. And you didn’t have to come in, did you? Or be so impatient?’
Her answer clearly didn’t please him. His eyes narrowed, the expression in them blazing to life at her continued wriggling. ‘What are you doing?’
Was his voice raspier or was it just the buzzing in her ears? Another wave of heat washed over her as she was forced to admit, ‘My zip is stuck. I think.’ Damn it. If it didn’t budge, there was no way she could get it off. And she could hardly go to dinner half-dressed, could she?
Cringing, she faced him. ‘Could you…could you help me?’
One brow quirked, and he said nothing for uncomfortably long seconds. Then, prowling closer, he nudged his square chin at her. She released the pull tab and kept her arm aloft. Did she wish the ground would open and swallow her? Very much so.
Somehow she managed to keep her chin up and he studied her.
‘I’ll have to insert a finger to protect your skin.
’ His voice was lower, definitely with a deeper rasp, and she dragged her gaze up to find his rising from her side to rest on her face.
This close, his brown eyes didn’t look so dark and ominous.
They looked…warm; heated, even, with dark-gold specks that made them glint as he waited for her response.
‘O-okay.’ Dear heaven. Could she sound more breathless?
The sight of his large hands and elegant fingers tackling her delicate zip shouldn’t have been erotic.
Shouldn’t have made heat pool low in her belly or simmer between her legs.
And yet there she was—dying and praying he would mistake the tiny shivers coursing through her for something else.
Nelios’s knuckles brushing the skin over her ribs shouldn’t have been more than a ticklish sensation.
Instead, Vayle became abruptly aware of an erogenous zone she’d had no inkling of before today.
She bit back a moan as her very skin jerked and shivered. Her peaking nipples were unmistakable through the shiny satin. The rise and fall of her chest blared her agitation.
‘Easy. You need to remain still, Vayle,’ he murmured.
Oh, God. It was impossible, she wanted to protest. Between the deeper gruffness of his voice, the faintly accented way his voice curled out her name and the new sensation of his masculine scent filtering through her senses, she had to shut her eyes to contain her wayward reactions.
‘It is done,’ he said curtly.
She took a giant sidestep as she opened her eyes, attempting to blink reason into her sluggish brain.
‘T-thank you.’ Another step. ‘I’ll be…’ She looked around for her phone and, spotting it where she’d left it on the coffee table, rushed across to snatch it up.
A quick glance showed Agnes hadn’t returned her call.
Stemming another tendril of worry, she sucked in a breath and faced him. ‘I’m ready.’
Again he watched her for several more seconds than was strictly polite, his aura deceptively calm, a technique she was learning was very effective in disarming his opponents. Thank goodness she would not be in his orbit for very much longer.
Then, without a word, he turned and strode for the door. She followed him, watching him activate the lift with a special keycard and, when it arrived, he stood to one side to let her enter.
Still wordless, they rode up one floor.
Vayle was stunned all over again by the plush surroundings. But, before she could take in any specific details, Andreas walked towards them, a neutral expression that belied the mild censure in his gaze as he exchanged words in Greek with Nelios before he eyed her.
‘Enjoy your evening,’ he said with a distinct lack of sincerity that made her grimace.
‘Is it even worth asking why he dislikes me so much or should I save my breath?’ she asked Nelios once the doors had shut behind Andreas.
He paused in the wide, exquisitely decorated hallway. ‘We share a dislike for wilful blindness,’ he delivered, before striding deeper into the suite.
Ouch.
On slow feet, she followed him into the lavish suite past groupings of sofas and an extensive bar area, through an alcove to an elegant dining table set for two. It wasn’t lost on her at all that through the floor-to-ceiling windows, displayed in perfect lighting, was the Nelios XV.
At every turn he meant to remind her who he was, what their association meant. As if she could forget, when her every breath, her every erratic heartbeat, shrieked how far out of her comfort zone she was.
He pulled out her chair and she sat down. She startled a little and earned herself a narrow-eyed look when his hand brushed her bare skin.
‘Why so jumpy?’
She shrugged. ‘Guess I’m waiting for the hammer to fall. Or for the interrogation to resume.’
He took his own seat, his mouth turning down with mild derision. ‘Hardly a hammer when I let you roam freely in the streets earlier on, shopping without a care in the world.’
‘Let me…?’ she echoed, then frowned. ‘How do you know where I went? Are you having me followed?’
‘You’re here in my care. Besides the fact that I and anyone in my group are required to use a security team, and you traipsed out without so much as a whisper to anyone, you have already proven not to have the best judgement with your stowaway antics.
Do you truly believe I’m not within my rights to keep tabs on you?
Let’s not forget that you’re also in this country illegally and I will be culpable should you be discovered. ’
‘Does it make you feel powerful to list everyone’s weaknesses or it a safeguarding crutch?’ she enquired softly, ignoring her sprinting pulse, which she was one hundred per cent confident was fully derived from anger, not hopelessness.
He stiffened so hard, he resembled marble. ‘Excuse me?’
She sighed. ‘My use of the word “hammer” before wasn’t an exaggeration, it seems. You Hulk-smash when a scalpel is needed.’
One dark brow arched, drawing her attention to the sinfully silky length of his sooty lashes. ‘Are you accusing me of lacking finesse, Vayle?’
‘Maybe I am… Nelios.’
His nostrils flared—because he was irritated, right?
Not because he was reacting to the cursed breathlessness that had made her sound like a cheesy movie siren when she’d said his name.
The live wire that seemed to need no encouragement at all to zing to life writhed through her.
Fiercely combating it, she picked up her napkin and took her time spreading it over thighs that had grown far too hot, scaldingly aware he was staring at her.
About to snap at his rudeness, her breath stalled as a door opened to the side and a man dressed in chef’s whites accompanied by a butler bearing wine pushed in a sterling-silver trolley.
‘Good evening, Mr Petralis, Miss Lancaster,’ they both greeted.
She blinked. Had Nelios bothered to tell the chef her name?
She murmured a response then listened as the chef rattled off the mouthwatering menu he’d prepared.
Spoilt for choice, she picked the first thing she remembered and was presented with a sumptuous Greek salad drizzled with olive oil.
Then she proceeded to stifle moan after moan while she ate the most glorious melt-in-the-mouth empanadas she’d ever tasted, accompanied by sublime red wine.