CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER THREE
Flora’s breath caught abruptly, every inch of skin pulling tight. She couldn’t seem to move, all her awareness zeroing in on the firm press of his long fingers holding her chin. Warm and strong. She had the impression that, even if she’d wanted to, she wouldn’t have been able to pull away.
His gaze pinned her to the spot and she realised that his eyes weren’t the simple dark green she’d always thought they were. It was as if someone had taken an emerald and shattered it, with some of the pieces glittering a lighter, grass green, while others were darker, spruce and pine. Many shades, like his tie, and all perfectly framed by thick, black lashes.
The last time she’d been this close to him was when she’d leaned over him as he’d sat behind his desk, on the pretext of checking a non-existent spot on his shirt. He’d continued talking on his phone, paying no attention to her, while she’d been thinking about the phone she’d hidden on one of the bookshelves, hoping she’d set the timer correctly and that the photos would come out okay. She been so anxious about it, she hadn’t had time to even consider their proximity.
Now, though, every bit of his intense focus was on her and she had nothing else to distract her.
She’d slipped up somehow, betrayed some kind of response that had caught his attention. Stupid fool that she was. She couldn’t afford mistakes, not with a man like this one.
It was only that he’d been staring at her as if he could read all her thoughts, and she’d had to protect herself somehow. She shouldn’t have looked away, that was clear. Well, she wouldn’t make that mistake again.
She had to remember that she hated this man. He was the direct cause of the destruction of her family, and all the years of misery after it, and she could not let him get under her skin simply because her idiot female hormones found him unbearably attractive.
After all, she knew where that led. Her mother had been a hopeless romantic who’d thrown everything away to follow her father, his easy charm going straight to her head, like good French champagne. Flora had been the same. She’d idolised her happy, optimistic, fun-loving father. He’d hung the moon and all the stars in the sky for her, and she loved him. And he loved her. As he’d told her so often, he would protect her. He’d never let anything bad happen to her.
But he’d lied.
He hadn’t loved her at all, because if he had, he wouldn’t have taken his own life, leaving her and her mother alone.
Nowadays she wasn’t like her mother, a romantic fool with a head full of dreams. Love didn’t sustain anyone and those dreams dissipated like smoke at one hint of reality.
The reality was a rundown flat above a chip shop, and nights alone, eating baked beans from a can, because her mother was out at her second job pulling pints in a pub, trying to earn enough money just to keep the lights on.
The reality was watching her mother slowly succumb to a slow and painful death.
Love was a lie, and she would never believe it again.
This wasn’t love though, this was only physical attraction. Yet she couldn’t let herself be ruled by it. She couldn’t let any sign of her susceptibility to him show either. Already he saw too much, all that shattered emerald roving over her, looking for weaknesses, probing for vulnerabilities.
Bracing herself, Flora stayed where she was, blocking the delicious scent of his aftershave from her mind and ignoring the warmth of his body. She gave herself a moment to regroup, then she said, fighting to keep her voice calm. ‘I don’t know anything, sir. I assure you.’
This didn’t seem to satisfy him as his focus only intensified, making an odd heat sweep unexpectedly through her. She could feel it in her cheeks, glowing just beneath her skin, and before she knew what she was doing, she’d pulled her chin from his grip and taken a couple of steps back, putting some distance between them.
Apollo said nothing, but his gaze had turned speculative, making her heart beat faster.
Good God, what was she thinking? Pulling away from him so suddenly was only going to make him even more curious than he already was. She’d seen that happen before, when someone interested him. He’d ask them all kinds of questions, never seeming to be bored with the answers. He might not have a charming bone in his body, but people seemed helpless to resist the concentrated beam of his attention.
She, on the other hand, was terrified of it. She’d always wondered if she’d be able to keep up her facade of smooth, capable and not at all interesting if he ever turned it on her.
Apparently not.
She smoothed her skirt and fussed with a button on her blouse, trying to hide how badly he’d flustered her.
‘Perhaps it’s a disgruntled employee,’ she suggested, keeping her tone as even as she could. ‘Or a business rival.’
He ignored the comment, his green stare sharp as knives. ‘Are you afraid of me, Flora?’
This time she wasn’t able to hide her shock. ‘What? No, of course not.’
‘Are you sure? You certainly seemed to be just now.’
Yes, she had given herself away. Dammit.
Her control of this situation was slowly slipping out of her grip and that couldn’t happen, not when he seemed to be undermining her calm at every turn. She had to do better than this.
She and her mother had been won over by her father, time and time again, when it came to his often grandiose plans for bettering their family. Laura never seemed to learn the lesson, that David’s pipe dreams were always just that. Pipe dreams. While Flora had been certain that her handsome, wonderful father would take care of them, just the way he’d promised.
Yet in the end he hadn’t taken care of them at all. Apparently neither she nor her mother had been important enough to make him stay, and when he’d died, he’d left them alone. Powerless against the grief…
She would not let herself be so utterly at the mercy of another person again.
She would stay in control of her emotions and herself, and, most important of all, her plans for justice for her parents.
Ceding him even one iota of control couldn’t happen, and most especially not given that he was the type of man who wouldn’t just take an inch, he’d take a mile and then some.
‘You startled me, that’s all.’ She met his gaze. ‘Why on earth would I be afraid of you?’
Again, he didn’t answer, merely gave her the same flat green stare. ‘It would not do for you to pull away like that when we’re out in public together. So, I ask again. Are you afraid of me?’
‘No.’ She lifted her chin and took a step towards him. ‘Do you need me to prove it to you?’
Something gleamed in the depths of his eyes then, something dark and hungry, which sent a hot, electric pulse straight through her. She’d seen that gleam before, when his interest had been caught with a deal, or he’d been issued a business challenge he wanted to meet. He’d never looked at her that way though, not until now, and it stole all the breath from her lungs.
That was a mistake. You’ve caught the attention of a predator.
Pity there hadn’t been any other options. She couldn’t let him believe she was afraid of him—even though that might have been the safest course of action—she just couldn’t. She wasn’t anyone’s helpless victim, not any more.
Still, it was too late to do anything about it now.
She had caught his interest, and some long-forgotten part of her, a lost, lonely part, liked that. Liked that a lot.
You can’t forget what you’re here for. Justice.
No, she wouldn’t. But maybe there was another way to take back control of this little scenario that he’d stolen from her. A way that she’d initially discarded, because she’d thought he was passionless, and he wasn’t.
You could use that interest to get close to him, and if he wants marriage, even better. As his wife you’ll be able to steadily drain him dry—
No, perhaps not draining him dry on second thoughts. He’d said that if he fell, the company would fall too, and that company employed a lot of people. She’d ruin a lot of livelihoods if she somehow managed to financially destroy him, and her plan was only about him. She didn’t want to involve anyone else or make them suffer.
Of course, she should have thought of that earlier, before she’d sent him those pictures, but she hadn’t been thinking of other people at the time, only of her own cause.
How else could she see justice served?
Ruin him emotionally, the way your mother was ruined. The way your father was ruined. Break his heart, the way yours was broken…
A cold little thrill wound through her. Oh, yes, why not? She could manipulate his interest in her, potentially using that to seduce him, then make him fall in love with her and then… She’d break his heart and walk away.
A dangerous thought and terrifying, in its way. Firstly, he was an experienced man, who’d taken a variety of lovers, so seducing him might be an issue since she’d had no experience at all, which he’d definitely realise. Secondly, making him fall in love with her would be…difficult, and not least because of that little experience issue. Getting close to him would also put her own secrets at risk, so if she was going to do it, she’d have to be very, very careful indeed.
Definitely something to consider, but right now, the first thing she had to do was make sure he knew that she wasn’t intimidated by him.
Inwardly bracing herself, Flora took another step, then another, coming closer to him. He didn’t move. His expression was impassive, yet that gleam in his eyes continued to glitter like a fire burning deep in the jungle.
She came to a stop in front of him, her heart beating loudly in her ears as she tipped her head back to look up at him. He didn’t take his gaze from hers. His arms were folded across his broad chest and, once again, getting close to him and having his delicious scent all around her made it difficult to think clearly.
‘See?’ She was unable to keep the faint husk from her voice. ‘I’m not afraid.’
He said nothing for a long moment, merely looking down his beautifully shaped Greek nose at her, his tall, dark presence seeming to fill the generous space of the office in way it had never done before.
The moment lengthened, the air around them thickening in ways that made it feel as if all the oxygen in the room had suddenly vanished.
Then, before she could move, he reached out and cupped her cheek in one large hand. The heat of his palm was astonishing, his touch electric. Flora couldn’t move, could barely even breathe.
‘Does this bother you?’ His voice was as cool as water on her hot skin and she had to resist the almost overwhelming desire to lean into his hand.
Her mouth was bone dry. ‘No.’
‘Good.’ Slowly, he slid his hand along her jaw to the back of her head, cupping it gently in his palm. ‘How about this?’
Her heart raced, the sound deafening her. His fingertips were pressing into her hair, that gleam in his eyes glittering brighter, sharper. ‘What are you doing?’ The words came out thick, but she couldn’t adjust the sound of her voice.
‘Testing you.’ His own voice was expressionless, like stone, as if the fact that they were standing so close to each other had no effect on him whatsoever. ‘We need to be comfortable touching each other if this is going to work.’
Well. Two could play at that game.
‘In that case.’ She lifted a hand and placed it on his chest, her fingertips resting lightly on the snowy cotton of his shirt. He felt very warm and very hard, and it was very difficult to keep hold of her usual calm, but she managed to raise a brow coolly. ‘Are you comfortable with this?’
His mouth was in its usual severe line and she found herself staring at it, wondering what he would look like if it relaxed, maybe even curved.
He would be astonishing.
Oh, yes. He would be.
‘Yes,’ he said, his voice as steady as a rock.
Flora swallowed yet again. How was it possible to feel as if she was going to go up in flames, while he was cold as a slab of granite, and just as expressionless? It seemed desperately unfair that he should remain unaffected by her, while for her it was getting hard to think with his hand cradling the back of her head. With the heat of him seeping into her fingertips where they rested on his chest.
So unfair that she didn’t really think through what she did next. The only thing that seemed important was that she had to do something to take charge of this, to exert her own power. She couldn’t let him have all of it, not if she wanted justice.
So, very slowly, she curled her fingers around his tie, gripping the warm silk like a rope as she made herself hold his dark, green gaze. ‘What about this?’ she asked.
‘Apart from the creases you’re putting in my tie, yes.’ He didn’t move, or betray any physical reaction to her nearness whatsoever.
It incensed her, and before she could think better of it, Flora held on to his tie, rose onto her toes, and pressed her mouth to his.
* * *
Apollo didn’t like surprises, especially when it came to people’s behaviour. He’d never turned his gift for reading people on Flora McIntyre before, because he’d never had to. She was there to do his bidding, and she did it. There was no need to inquire further.
So for her to grip his tie, before rising on her toes to kiss him, was the very last thing he’d expected her to do, and it shocked him so profoundly that for a long moment he couldn’t move.
Then, much to his horror, everything male in him woke to full aching life, as a bolt of electricity drove all the way down his spine.
Her lips on his were light as a butterfly and so very soft, so very warm, possessing a sweet hesitancy that grabbed him by the throat and refused to let go.
He’d never felt anything like it in his entire life.
He shouldn’t have pushed her about being afraid of him, he knew that, and he wasn’t sure why he’d been so insistent. But then she’d lifted her chin in a way she’d never done before, and the primitive beast in him knew exactly what that meant.
A direct challenge. And the most peculiar rush of adrenaline had coursed through him. As if she’d flicked a switch in his brain, or she’d stepped out of the shadows and into the light, and he was seeing her for the first time. A woman, not merely his PA. A woman with a mind of her own, who wasn’t merely a blank slate who agreed with everything he said and carried out his orders. A woman with a touch of spirit, probably more than a touch, if that chin lift was anything to go by.
He should have stopped pushing then and stepped back, returned to his usual place behind his desk, but he hadn’t. That glimpse of temper had been enough to hold him where he was, to want to know more…
Yet he hadn’t thought it would be this, a kiss with the kind of heat that brought a man to his knees.
He’d never denied himself physical pleasure in his quest to rebuild Helios, though his lovers were always chosen with care. Only women who wanted what he did, which was physical pleasure and nothing more.
However, when he’d decided on the next step in his plans for the Constantinides name—the engagement to Violet—he’d easily put all his lovers aside. He’d intended his marriage to Violet to be a real one, though they had not actually consummated their relationship yet. Violet had wanted to wait until their wedding night and he’d agreed. He could control himself; he wasn’t desperate.
He and Violet had kissed each other of course, and it had been very pleasant, but this… Flora… This was not pleasant.
This was cataclysmic.
He found himself cupping the back of her head with both hands, his fingertips pushing into the soft thickness of her hair, holding her still as he took control of the kiss.
She shuddered, the taste of her so utterly delicious it was if he’d never tasted a woman’s mouth before. Sweet and hot as melted honey, and with something more, something addictive he couldn’t quite grasp, which had him shifting his grip to put the pad of his thumb on her lower lip, easing her mouth open to him so he could explore more fully.
She made a soft sound in her throat, but she wasn’t pushing him away, so he didn’t stop, turning the kiss hotter, deeper. Dimly something was telling him that this was a bad idea, that he’d never felt this way about her before, so why was he now? But he couldn’t quite get a grasp on the answer to the question. Because why hadn’t they done this before? It seemed ridiculous, when the chemistry burning between them was so hot and strong.
You’re her boss, that’s why. And this is for the media only. You’re not supposed to actually feel this way for real.
Something ice-cold cut through the heat in his veins. That was true. So what the hell was he doing? Flora had never given him any sign she felt anything for him. She’d never flirted, never smiled, never sneaked glances at him while he wasn’t looking. Never had her hand linger on his shoulder or anywhere else about his person. Of course, those pictures would seem to indicate that was a lie, but it wasn’t. So why was he suddenly kissing her back? The ethical boundaries he’d placed around his business practices were there for a reason and he could not cross them. He could not.
With a force of will that took far more effort than it should, Apollo wrenched his mouth from hers and let her go, taking a step back. Only to be brought up short by her small fist still wrapped around his tie.
She was holding on to it for dear life and looking up at him. Her eyes had gone dark as midnight, her cheeks stained with colour. Her mouth full and red from their kiss.
Beautiful . She’s beautiful.
The thought came to him without any prompting, the urge to kiss her again was so powerful that he nearly bent his head to do just that. But he knew what happened when he gave into his darker impulses. He ruined people.
Flora had surprised him, and he couldn’t allow that to happen again. Honesty was important to him, even if he was going to have to fake a marriage in order to protect her, but control was even more so. Control over his mind and his body, control over his emotions. He couldn’t allow his grip to slip, not even for moment.
You’re going to marry her, though. So what does it matter if you kiss her again?
He was going to marry her, it was true, but theirs would not be the kind of marriage he’d been going to enter into with Violet. That marriage had been arranged and talked about, every detail decided upon going in, with children part of the mix. An honest relationship based on what each other had wanted, no surprises. No messy emotion to complicate matters.
Which was not anything like marrying Flora. That was a spur of the moment decision, a solution to an unexpected problem, and it would only be on paper. With a quick divorce once the fuss had died down. Any physical entanglements would only make things difficult, and, apart from anything else, he was still her boss, and he had to set an example.
So, no, definitely no more kisses, or anything else of that nature.
Forcing down the heat of desire still burning in his blood, Apollo reached for her fingers gripping his tie, and gently unwrapped them from the fabric. Her skin felt warm against his, though he tried not to be conscious of it.
‘I think you proved your point,’ he said curtly, releasing her hand and stepping back.
Flora said nothing, her mouth still open, her eyes still dark, the colour high in her cheeks. She looked almost dazed, which gave him a disturbing amount of satisfaction. She’d never seemed anything less than serene, so for his kiss to strip that veneer of calm so completely away from her pleased him on a deep, base level.
Don’t turn this into something it’s not.
He wouldn’t. This was an act, a show to protect Flora from any blowback, as well as for the public to keep his good name and reputation intact.
An act and that’s all.
‘Don’t look at me like that, Flora,’ he snapped. ‘I’m not kissing you again, no matter how big those eyes of yours get. Do you understand?’
She flushed, a spark of bright silver glittering in her eyes. And, for a moment, he found himself holding his breath, expecting her to fling some spiky comment at him, almost hoping for it. But then the spark disappeared, and her usual serenity settled over her features.
‘Yes, I understand.’ She smoothed a strand of black hair that had escaped her bun behind her ear. ‘So, this draft. What did you want me to include?’
It was admirable really, the way she so easily put her facade into place. Yet he couldn’t seem to get that memory out of his head, of her looking up at him, eyes dark, mouth red, all dazed from that kiss. Couldn’t shake, either, that very male satisfaction at how he’d ruffled that perfect calm of hers. How he’d made her grip his tie and look at him as if she was dying of thirst and he was a glass of iced water. If she was any other woman, and he a different man, it might have been interesting to play with her a little, find out if that passion he’d caught a glimpse of just before was truly—
But no. He couldn’t think such things, not when he had a reputation to rescue.
‘Let’s go with this,’ he said, turning abruptly and striding back around the side of his desk, putting some distance between them. ‘You and I worked together, as you said, and our attraction was such that we couldn’t fight it. You kissed me after a late-night planning session and that’s when we realised we had to make a decision. I’d been going to tell Violet about us, but then the photos were released before I had the chance to do so. But now they’re out in the public sphere and we’re relieved that we no longer have to hide our passion.’
The colour in her cheeks was still high, the charcoal glint of her eyes still dark. ‘ I kissed you?’
There was a slight edge to the question, which again had never been apparent in her voice before. In fact, she’d never questioned him before, full stop.
‘Yes,’ he said, frowning. ‘That part is certainly true, is it not? Besides, it would be worse for my reputation if we said I kissed you first.’
‘What about my reputation?’ Again there was a brief glint of unfamiliar silver, her temper obviously on a short leash. ‘You said you were doing this partly to protect me, don’t forget.’
Interesting. She wasn’t quite as adept at hiding her feelings as she’d been minutes before. Or perhaps she’d always had this sharp edge and he’d just never noticed? Maybe it was the kiss that had disturbed her…
Not that he should be thinking about that kiss. She was right, he had said he was doing this partly to protect her, and he was. The media was always harder on women, this he knew, and her reputation was as important as his.
‘True,’ he admitted. ‘How about this then? You kissed me, but then you were extremely apologetic and offered to resign. I, naturally, wouldn’t hear of it.’
Her gaze narrowed, but she nodded. ‘Okay. But we haven’t touched each other beyond those photos. We wanted to go public before anything more happened between us.’
Excellent. She wanted to put that kiss behind them too, which was definitely where it should be.
‘Agreed,’ he said. ‘Our relationship has not been consummated. You insisted on waiting until we were married.’
Once again, faint colour touched her cheekbones. ‘Do we really need to say that?’
‘No, but it’s better if we have an answer if the question is asked. And someone will, because the general public is inordinately interested in people’s sex lives. Those photos being a prime example.’
‘Very well.’ Her facade was back in place again.
‘Good.’ He dug his phone out of his pocket and glanced down at it, scrolling through his calendar. They’d need to be seen together as quickly as possible, and preferably at some major event. ‘Tomorrow night I have that gala in Paris. That will be the perfect time to debut our relationship.’
‘Tomorrow night?’ The edge had returned to Flora’s voice, surprise flickering through her dark grey eyes.
Strange that she hadn’t thought this through. Normally she was excellent at anticipating and then coping with any difficulties. Then again, perhaps it was because she was personally involved this time. Also, that kiss…
Irritation coiled inside him as the warmth of her mouth on his lingered in his brain. He shoved it away with more firmness this time.
‘Yes, tomorrow night. You know how fast and how far gossip travels. We need to release a public statement as quickly as possible, then follow it up with a public appearance together, as a couple.’
This time there was only the slightest flicker of a reaction, before her expression smoothed once more. Whatever control she’d lost, she now had it back in her grasp.
Too late, though. You know who she is now. Who she really is.
Yes, he did, and he would do precisely nothing about it. Regardless of what act they’d put on for the public, he wouldn’t touch her. He was still her boss, and doing anything with her at all would be crossing one of the many lines he’d drawn in his quest to rehabilitate the Constantinides name.
Not to mention rehabilitating yourself, too.
Yes, that also.
‘Fine,’ Flora said expressionlessly. ‘Paris it is.’
Apollo put his phone away and sat down at his desk. ‘The situation is in hand then. Get working on that draft. I want it on my desk in an hour.’