Chapter Five #2
‘To clear the air.’ His mouth firmed, eyebrows burrowing down into a V over that decisive nose. ‘I need to apologise.’
It was the last thing she’d expected. Shock ran under her skin as she considered telling him what he could do with his apology. Tomorrow they’d go their separate ways. Whatever arrangement he had with Leon couldn’t continue after his behaviour.
But she was intrigued.
By the fact he’d decided to apologise.
Plus there was the memory of that moment on the edge of the red carpet. She’d turned at the sound of her name just as he rose and turned his head, and their lips had met and clung. It could only have lasted seconds. But it had felt far longer.
She recalled the weighty beat of her pulse, her breathless anticipation. The faintest taste of him—unfamiliar and delicious. The hunger for more. And the look in his hooded eyes, a glow that turned her insides molten.
Facing public scrutiny after that would have been impossible if it hadn’t been for a lifetime’s training in appearing calm under stress.
‘Okay.’ She’d hear his apology, at least.
Soon she was ensconced in an armchair, sipping triple sec on ice while her nemesis sat opposite, frowning down at the fine brandy he swirled in his glass.
The lights were low, casting shadows across his face that reminded her of her initial impression of him as a fallen angel.
He looked powerful, brooding and starkly attractive.
His eyes met hers and energy crackled along her bones. It was a mistake, spending time with him. She moved to put her glass on a side table when he spoke.
‘I’m sorry. I was out of order, judging you over what happened at the couturier’s. I shouldn’t have spoken. It’s not my business and you’re right, I don’t know the circumstances.’
Rosamund held his gaze then lifted her glass, letting the intense orange liqueur send a fiery trail from her tongue to her chilled middle. She welcomed the blast of heat.
‘You made assumptions about me.’
Slowly he nodded. That frown and the almost sulky set of his sculpted mouth should repel, not entice.
Lucifer, whispered that voice in her head.
‘I did.’
‘Why?’ She leaned forward. ‘What made you think you have the right to judge me?’
It was something she’d wanted to ask so many times when people she didn’t know criticised her unfairly. She’d believed she was reconciled to it as a necessary evil, given her family’s position. But this time her accuser was here before her.
More, something about him had burrowed under her defences. His accusation had hurt.
‘Because of what you did in New York.’
Her glass slammed onto the side table and she scooted to the edge of her seat, heart pounding so fast she felt nauseous.
It should be impossible. Leon would have double- and triple-checked this man but… ‘You’re a friend of Brad Ricardo?’ Was he here to hurt her?
‘No! I don’t know the man, and I don’t want to.’
The fingers she’d dug into the upholstered arms of the chair eased a little, yet she couldn’t relax. ‘If you’re not a friend of his, then what’s your problem?’
‘The way you treated Dimi.’
‘Dimi?’ The man spoke in riddles.
If she thought him Lucifer-like earlier, the curling snarl of his lips made him positively demonic. ‘Dimitria Politis. Or wasn’t she important enough for you to remember her name?’
Understanding began to dawn. Rosamund sank back. ‘You know her?’
‘Yes, and I care when someone hurts her.’
For a split-second Rosamund felt envy for the young woman she’d met so briefly. She pushed it aside.
‘So you do remember her,’ he said softly. ‘You just didn’t care that you hurt her to get what you wanted.’
‘You’ve got it wrong. I saved her.’
Now his knotted brow showed confusion rather than anger. ‘That doesn’t make sense. You’d never met before that night. She told me.’
Rosamund remembered the young Greek woman, gentle and a little timid but excited to be at the glamorous party. She’d liked her. And seen something in the twenty-one-year-old that reminded her of herself, long ago.
‘No, I’d never seen her before, never heard of her. But…’ How did she explain her sudden, emotional reaction to what she’d discovered that night? Her visceral response and her impulsive decision to deal with it. ‘She was vulnerable. I wanted to protect her.’
Fotis regarded her with a stiletto-sharp scrutiny and definite disbelief. Rosamund held his stare.
Finally he said, ‘You’re implying you created a scandal to protect her? Why?’ He leaned forward and she felt the air thicken. ‘Why harm your reputation for a stranger?’
Rosamund reached for her glass and took a fortifying sip. It was tempting to explain. She wanted to clear the air. Wanted him to think well of her. Wasn’t that worrying?
But in revealing her reasons, she’d have to skirt hurts and mistakes she’d put behind her years before.
‘It’s personal.’ She paused, resisting the impulse to lick her suddenly dry lips. ‘I’d need to know you wouldn’t share what I have to say.’
‘I don’t betray confidences.’
If only it were that easy. ‘I’d feel more inclined to trust you if I knew something about you.’
‘What are you after?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Commercial secrets?’
Despite the thrumming tension, Rosamund couldn’t stifle her huff of laughter.
‘Hardly. But you’re an enigma. I don’t know anything about you.
Just that Leon believes you can protect me.
And that you’re judgemental, grumpy and rude.
’ And powerfully, shockingly male. ‘I’m offering a quid pro quo.
I’ll tell you if you satisfy my curiosity. ’
His expression was unreadable. ‘What do you want to know?’
Even now he couldn’t just agree. He had to probe and assess before committing himself. She recognised the tactic. She did it too.
In her case it was a self-protective habit she learned over time. Was he the same?
Fotis watched her eyes turn bleak. Was anything about this woman simple? He’d thought he had her measure when they met, but with every hour he had more questions and less certainty.
Maybe there was a scintilla of truth in her story.
Maybe the photos in New York that caused a sensation meant nothing to a woman with her reputation.
From her teens she’d been a wild child, teetering just on the right side of respectability but ever ready to party to excess.
She lived off the royal purse yet her only repayment was attending a few official functions when she occasionally deigned to live in Cardona.
‘How do you speak English so well? You sound like a native speaker, yet you’re Greek. You live in Greece, don’t you?’
Of all the things he’d imagined her asking, this wasn’t one. ‘I do. But I went to boarding school early. Most of my schooling was outside Greece.’
He waited, wondering what came next.
‘Why did you agree to look after me when you have a business to run? What does my half-brother hold over you?’
Interesting that she didn’t call him her brother. What was the story there?
Fotis swirled his brandy, inhaling its rich scent. ‘He doesn’t hold anything over me. But there’s an initiative I want to see implemented. Something he supports too. He promised if I did this, he’d actively promote it at intergovernmental levels.’
He watched her think that over and decided to forestall her next obvious question by interrupting. She already regarded him as judgemental, grumpy and rude. Strange how that irked when it was completely deserved.
‘Is that all?’
She shook her head. ‘Tell me more about yourself.’
Fotis frowned. He had no intention of spilling private details.
But then her laugh, surprisingly rich and full, cleaved through his distrust to dance over his body, shimmering like summer heat just under his skin.
‘If you could see your face! Don’t worry, Kyrie Mavridis,’ she said in that mocking tone he disliked but found himself increasingly enjoying.
‘I’m not asking you to confess your dark secrets.
Just let me in enough to know who I’m dealing with.
What does your company do? How did you come to start it?
That sort of thing. I want to know who you are so I can decide whether to trust you. ’
That he could understand. ‘I was in the military—’
‘Doing what?’
‘I was a paratrooper.’
‘That explains why Leon thought you could keep me safe.’ She leaned back. ‘How did you go from that to running your own business?’
‘I spent time in special operations and one aspect of that is intelligence. It was a good fit.’
At her enquiring look he continued. ‘I was always good at maths. Once that’s what I wanted to do, devote myself to pure mathematics.’ Until Nico’s death. ‘I’m good with numbers, patterns, analysis and codes.’
‘Ah. I begin to see the link.’
‘The military was good to me but it didn’t suit me long-term.
I’d inherited some money and started a company providing cryptography and other services to government and industry.
We protect information. We also analyse complex data and provide insights, sometimes about things other entities want kept secret. We provide a very specialised service.’
Her head tilted. ‘Specialised and successful, since you don’t have to advertise for work.’ At his questioning stare she lifted one shoulder. ‘I did an internet search and was surprised at how little I found.’
‘There’s no need for publicity, either for the company or myself. I prefer privacy.’
‘Lucky you. I prefer privacy too but it’s hard to come by.’
‘Which brings us to New York and the scandal you created.’
She breathed out what sounded like a sigh. ‘One last question. Your company’s services. They are available to anyone who pays?’
He held her gaze. ‘Not to criminals, dictators or regimes that repress their people.’
‘There’d be money to be made there.’
‘We have our standards.’
‘And so do I,’ she said after the tiniest pause.
It was a direct challenge. She was taking him at his word. Would he do the same for her? Two days ago he wouldn’t have believed anything she claimed. That had changed. ‘Go on.’
She picked up her glass and took a slow sip.
‘I’d never met your friend, or Ricardo. I saw them together at the party and was introduced but didn’t spend much time with them. Later, I was on the roof terrace getting some air and overheard Ricardo and another man.’
Rosamund stared at the ornate marble fireplace.
‘They thought they were alone. He was boasting about his little Greek innocent. How she was in love and he had her where he wanted her. She’d do anything for him.
’ Her lip curled. ‘I’m paraphrasing. He was discussing money and sex and he was much cruder.
He wanted her fortune. He didn’t care about her. ’
Fury streaked through Fotis. Ricardo was a lowlife, living beyond his means. Of course he was interested in a pretty innocent who also happened to be an heiress.
Fotis hadn’t known about the romance then and would have put an end to it once he discovered what Ricardo was like. But given Dimi’s fragile sense of self-worth and her history of depression, he’d have found a way to do it without breaking both her heart and her ego.
‘Go on.’
Eyes that looked more silver than blue met his and Fotis caught the hint of a flush on her cheekbones.
‘He was pushing her to announce their engagement, but she wanted to tell her grandfather first. He was sure he could persuade her in the next day or so without the old man’s knowledge.
Once it was announced he knew she wouldn’t back out. ’
Fotis knew the old man, a friend of his dead father’s, was unwell. It was one of the reasons he felt so protective of Dimi. His hands fisted on his thighs. ‘Go on.’
Rosamund shrugged. ‘I saw red. I’d only spoken to the girl for five minutes but she clearly had no idea what her lover was really like. I knew, so I acted.’
‘You deliberately let yourself be caught in a compromising situation with him?’ Fotis shook his head. ‘You might be a princess but why would he give up an almost-fiancée for someone he’d never met? Marriage to an heiress would be better than a fling with you.’
A smile that wasn’t a smile curved Rosamund’s lips and her eyes glittered. ‘Of course he didn’t expect to marry me. But he likes sex and I do have a certain reputation.’
There’d been no particularly damning photos of her for years but her name was constantly linked with a passing parade of men, none of whom lasted long.
‘I waited until the men were rejoining the party and accidentally bumped into him. I may have appeared a bit wobbly when I spilled my drink.’ Her lips curled in a savage smile that made Fotis like her more.
He had no doubt that despite the impression she’d given Ricardo, she’d been perfectly in control of her actions.
‘He got me another drink and while he was gone I moved closer to the lights.
‘When he returned we got better acquainted. It didn’t take long. I knew people would be coming out to see the fireworks. All I had to do was make sure we were found in a clinch when they arrived with their phones.’ Her voice held a razor-sharp edge. ‘You know how people enjoy a scandal.’
Fotis remembered the photos. Her dress strap had hung down her arm and her gleaming hair was loose around her shoulders while Ricardo cupped her breast. He had her jammed up against a wall as they kissed and her bare leg was up near his hip. They were obviously moments away from sex.
Was her story true?
‘Why not just tell Dimi?’ The images had shattered her.
One shapely eyebrow arched. ‘You think she’d have believed me, a stranger? Of course she wouldn’t. She was besotted. She needed to see him for what he really was.’
‘But why put yourself out for a stranger? You took the flak for those photos. Why not let her make her own mistakes?’
In his experience people rarely looked out for others, especially people they didn’t know. In this case the gossip hadn’t just been about the pair being caught in a compromising position, but about the princess being a man-eater, stealing a pretty innocent’s partner from under her nose.
Rosamund’s eyes met his and strong emotion arced between them. She wasn’t amused now.
‘I know what it’s like to be in her position. I was even younger than her when I was seduced by a man who didn’t care for me. I was just a means to an end. I wish I’d had someone to stand up for me then.’