DAZED AND BEWILDERED, Chloe experienced a quite irrational sense of abandonment as she watched the couple walk away arm in arm. She hung back as the guests made their way through the double doors, which had been flung open revealing a long table covered in white linen and groaning with antique crystal and fine china. The last to enter the room, Chloe saw that Eugenie was directing guests to their places. As she watched Nik bent down and kissed his niece’s cheek.
‘I’m working, Uncle Nik,’ she remonstrated, kissing him back despite her protest.
Chloe watched him throw a quizzical glance at his sister. ‘Child labour, Ana?’
‘Laying the foundations for a healthy work ethic, you mean,’ Tatiana shot back.
‘You were right the first time.’ Eugenie raised her voice as her uncle moved away. ‘No, you’re down that way, Uncle Nik,’ the girl called, pointing in the opposite direction from where her uncle was heading.
‘No, kiddo, I think I’m sitting here.’ Nik picked up one of the place cards and held it up to show her his name.
His niece frowned, pulling a slim tablet from her pocket. ‘But I thought...’
Her mother leaned in and closed the tablet. ‘It’s fine, love,’ she said drily, picking up a card from the floor and, glancing at the name on it, placing it at a gap on another table.
Her brother reacted to the pointed look she sent him with an unrealistic innocent expression.
Watching the interplay, Chloe had a sinking feeling, and so she was unsurprised when the teenager smiled at her and directed her towards where Nik was holding out a chair next to his place.
Chloe’s eyes brushed his and her stomach vanished completely!
The prospect of spending the entire meal next to him made her feel nauseous. Oh, get over yourself, Chloe, she told herself sternly. What’s the worst that can happen—you get indigestion?
‘Now, isn’t this nice?’ The innocence was gone and instead there was a feral gleam of challenge in his steady stare as he stood behind the chair waiting for her to take her seat. ‘So cosy,’ he murmured, pushing in the chair neatly behind her legs before taking his own seat.
Cosy? Huh. Chloe decided, nodding to the woman seated to her right, that was the last word she would use where Nik Latsis was concerned, so she didn’t voice any of the half-dozen sarcastic responses that trembled on her tongue. The best way to cope with this situation was simply not to rise to the bait; instead, she would rise above it.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured, rather pleased with her aloof little nod, a nice combination of condescension and coldness. Yes, she decided, the high ground was definitely the route to take in this situation. Right but not very easy when even without looking at him she could feel the male arrogance he was radiating.
He set his elbows on the table and looked at her. ‘You’re dying to ask me, so go ahead.’
She squared her shoulders, and took a long swallow of the very good wine, looking at the plate that had been put in front of her; it smelt fantastic but she had virtually no appetite. ‘Sorry, I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I’ll put you out of your misery, then. You’re right, Lucy and I are not a couple, just, as they say, good friends.’
‘Well, that’s a relief. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep tonight if you hadn’t explained that to me.’
Far from annoying him, her sarcastic riposte drew a broad grin. ‘Ana often invites potential mates to her cosy little dinners.’
‘This dinner isn’t little or cosy or, as it happens, all about you.’
A smile quivered across his lips. ‘Ouch!’
‘You could always try dating agencies, which would be a bit more scientific than relying on your sister to set you up,’ she suggested.
‘I’ve always thought a sense of humour is overrated, especially when I’m the joke. Ana wants to see me settled down; she thinks that marriage is the magic bullet that will solve all my problems. She means well but it can get...tiresome. But you don’t want to know all that; the point is... Lucy isn’t my girlfriend.’
‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘Because I want you to say yes when I ask you to come home with me tonight.’
Having delivered this conversational dynamite in the same manner a normal person would discuss the weather, he calmly turned to the man on his right and inserted himself into the conversation concerning the most recent banking scandal.
Chloe couldn’t hear what they saying, because she couldn’t hear anything much beyond the static buzz inside her own head. Of course, she was going to say no to him.
She rested her hand on her thigh, running her fingers lightly across the raised damaged skin under the fine blue silk. The outline of the ugly ridges beneath her fingertips had an instant mind-clearing effect, and the doubts fluttering around in her head vanished. A man who hadn’t bothered hanging around to say goodbye the morning after they’d had mind-blowing sex wasn’t interested in her emotional journey; he only wanted perfect.
‘I used to be a fan of your blog...is there any chance of you resurrecting it?’
Chloe snapped clear of her reverie before it reached self-pitying territory and smiled at the woman sitting across from her who’d just asked her a question. ‘Well, never say never, but at the moment I can’t see it happening.’
The woman looked disappointed. ‘You were very successful and you had so many followers, but I suppose you’ve got your hands full at the moment.’
Nik had disengaged from the conversation he was involved in and took an indulgent time out to study Chloe, watching as the fine muscles along her firm jawline quivered beneath the smooth creamy skin. Her long fingers tightened around the stem of her wine glass, and he noted the absence of rings.
‘So what is this blog I keep hearing about?’ Nik asked curiously.
He had just announced his intention of inviting her to spend the night in his bed and now he was making small-talk! Did he compartmentalise his life as neatly as he did his conversations? she wondered, envying him the ability.
‘It was a fashion blog. I started out just writing about things that caught my attention, fashion tips, current style trends, that sort of thing, and it took off after your sister—’ she glanced towards Tatiana ‘—gave me a plug.’
‘Was?’
She nodded and directed her gaze to the wine swirling around in her glass. The crystal caught the light of the chandelier that hung over the table, sending little sparks of colour through the flute. ‘I’ve moved on to other things.’
Dreams were not reality, they were an exaggerated, distorted form of it, and Nik had assumed his memory had been guilty of making some editorial cuts, smoothing out the flaws and adding a rosy tinge to the reality of the woman who had shared her body with him. Sharing hardly seemed an adequate description for the lack of barriers that had existed between them—but actually sitting beside her now, he realised that the reality was even better than his memory. And she’d been a virgin—her cagey reaction had virtually confirmed his stab in the dark—but it still didn’t seem possible.
‘I suppose a lot of people would get bored quickly if they didn’t have to worry about paying the rent, Lady Chloe.’
His efforts to needle her into a response were rewarded when she slung him an angry glare and drained her glass in one gulp.
It was not the first time that someone had added the title and her background together and come up with the totally inaccurate conclusion that she was a lady of leisure who didn’t have to work for a living.
They weren’t to know that, although her family had the aristocratic family tree and the castle that came with it, they didn’t have any money, which accounted for the holes in the roof, the ancient plumbing and the fact she and her sister had always been expected to work for their living. Of course, it didn’t make them poor by most people’s standards but the man sitting there judging her was not most people.
Even at this table, where conservative estimates of all the guests’ wealth were eye watering, he was probably worth more than them all combined.
Her indignation fizzed hot under the surface as she fixed him with a smile of dazzling insincerity and batted her lashes like the social butterfly he seemed to think she was.
‘Oh, and how I envy the little people with their simple lives... I’ve even heard that some people don’t bathe in ass’s milk or have anyone to put toothpaste on their brushes for them.’
‘Did I say something to annoy you?’ His glance slid from her blazing eyes to her tightened lips and his body stirred involuntarily as he remembered kissing them, tasting her... The need to do so again as soon as possible made his body do more than stir.
She shuddered out a breath and their gazes connected. Chloe was aware that she was breathing too fast as she fought to escape the message that seemed to vibrate with a palpable force in the air between them.
‘You breathing annoys me!’ Too much honesty, Chloe, she thought, aware she had lost her moral high ground the moment the childish admission left her lips, but at least she was no longer thinking about kissing him, which was good. Taking a deep breath, she glanced around to see if anyone had heard her comment. Greatly relieved when it seemed they hadn’t, she directed a straight look at him. ‘Look, Tatiana is a friend and I don’t want to be rude to her brother.’ Or go to bed with him.
‘Or alienate a potential donor?’
Chloe realised guiltily that the sobering reminder was necessary. She was in danger of forgetting that tonight was about getting the charity off the ground. Tatiana had done her bit, inviting people with deep pockets who were sympathetic to Chloe’s aims, but the rest was up to her.
It was a crowded market; there were so many good causes around Chloe knew that she needed to make a positive impression on these people if she was going to make a difference.
‘True, and all donations are gratefully received.’
‘You already have Ana on board, so how long have you two known one another?’
‘She took an interest in my fashion blog, but we’d never met. We actually met in person only a year ago, a few months after the—’ She stopped abruptly, her lashes lowering in a protective sweep.
‘After what?’ Against his better judgement, her sudden impersonation of a clam made him curious, and, even though he knew on one level that this should be an exercise in exorcising his demons, he found he really wanted to know what made her tick.
‘After I got bored with it,’ she countered, deliberately not analysing her reluctance to discuss the accident with him. She applied herself to her starter, trying to simulate an interest in her food, which she couldn’t even taste.
Nik, who continued to ignore his own food, propped an elbow on the table and studied her. ‘So what do you do now, besides selling raffle tickets?’
‘I’m working to raise the profile of the charity.’
For working, Nik translated, she had probably arranged a charity fashion show or a masked ball, which was fine, but hardly enough to stimulate someone of her obvious intelligence. His dark brows flattened as he recognised but struggled to explain a sense of disappointment.
It wasn’t as though he had any expectations of her, and God knew she wouldn’t be the only titled socialite who didn’t hold down a real job. Maybe it was just that he was surrounded by strong, driven women. His mother was a partner in a law firm, who had raised brows when she had continued to work after she was married, and his sister juggled a successful career with motherhood. Ana might be in the fashion industry, but he knew that his sister would have been appalled if her daughter had thought being decorative was more important than getting an education, which made this friendship with Chloe all the more puzzling. He really couldn’t see what the two women had in common.
‘I don’t have my wallet with me, but I do have my chequebook and I am a dutiful brother,’ Nik said.
Before Chloe could react to the patronising undertone that brought a sparkle of annoyance to her eyes, across the table an elderly silver-haired Greek businessman began to laugh.
‘I wouldn’t be so quick to give her a blank cheque, my boy. If that young lady gets you in a headlock, she’s relentless.’
Nik elevated a dark brow. ‘I thought that was just a rumour.’
‘She’s cost me more than my wife.’
‘Which one, Joseph?’
The question caused a ripple of laughter around the table.
‘It’s all in a good cause,’ Tatiana said, patting his hand. The soft murmur of agreement that followed her words left Nik feeling excluded, as he seemed to be the only one who didn’t have a clue what the old man was talking about.
‘And what cause would that be?’
The rest of the table had returned to their own conversations and Nik’s curiosity was the only thing left to distract himself from the ache in his groin. Messing with the seating arrangements had seemed like a good idea at the time, but he really hadn’t factored in the painful strength of the hard throb of need, which was becoming increasingly impossible to think past.
Insane... When had a woman made him feel like this? He looked at her mouth, remembering how it had tasted, and wondered. Last night about three a.m. she had vanished from his dreams like mist, as she always did. What if he woke up with her in his arms for real? Would she and the nightmares be gone for ever?
Chloe shifted in her seat before looking up from her contemplation of her empty glass. Strands of blonde hair fell across her cheek and she brushed them away, puzzling at her own reluctance to discuss the subject so passionate to her heart. It struck her as ironic considering she’d spent the evening selling the cause, and in all honesty she felt she was pretty good at it.
‘Helping burns victims. Originally the idea was to raise money for specialised equipment for the NHS that under normal circumstances they can’t afford.’
It was the last thing he had expected to hear. ‘And now?’
‘Oh, we’ll still do all those things, but, in conjunction with that goal, we are also aiming to set up centres where there is access to physical therapy like physiotherapy, rehabilitation and so forth, alongside psychotherapy and counselling, plus the practical stuff like learning how to apply make-up to cover scarring and job retraining. In essence it will be a one-stop shop where people can access what they need or just come in for a cup of coffee and a chat.’
He watched her face change as she spoke and the animation was not something that could be faked. She was truly passionate about this charity. ‘That is a very ambitious scheme for someone so young.’
She lifted her chin. ‘I really don’t see how my age has anything to do with it, and I was always brought up to aim high.’
‘So you’re saying positive thinking works miracles?’
‘I’m not after miracles. Everything we are aiming for is achievable and I have the facts and figures to prove it. As for positive thinking...well, that is helpful, but there comes a point when action is needed. This isn’t some sort of game to me.’
‘I can see that.’ His admission came with some reluctance. He didn’t want to admire her; he wanted to bed her. Liking was not a prerequisite for compatibility in the bedroom. In fact, it was a complication.
‘So why this particular cause?’ he asked.
‘I met someone in hospital...’
‘You were ill?’ He visualised an image of her lying in a hospital bed and didn’t dare analyse the emotion that tightened in his gut.
She dodged his interrogative stare and looked down at her fingers, watching as they tightened around the stem of the wine glass she held. She had recovered her composure by the time she responded, explaining in a quiet measured voice wiped clean of any emotion, ‘I parted company with a motorbike.’ The shaky laugh was less planned. ‘Or so they tell me.’
The how and why remained a blank to this day. In fact the only thing she remembered that might not have been a dream was climbing on the bike calling to her sister to follow her, and then nothing until the smell of burning and sirens. If it hadn’t been for her brother-in-law she wouldn’t even remember that.
She wouldn’t be here at all.
Some people needed their drug of choice to be happy, but she was alive and that was all the buzz she needed. The knowledge that life was so fragile had made her determined to do something with her life that would leave something tangible behind.
‘I hope the driver didn’t get off scot-free.’ The corners of his mouth pulled down in disapproval as he imagined her slim arms around some leather-clad idiot, her lithe body pressing into him.
‘I wasn’t riding pillion.’ It occurred to her that her pride was misplaced; after all, how well had the going-solo scenario been serving her so far?
The problem with being so independent was that when you messed up there was no one else to share the blame with.
‘So you like to be in charge?’
‘In charge? If by that you mean do I like to make my own decisions, then, yes, I do,’ she told him calmly. ‘It’s never been my fantasy to be dominated by a male chauvinist.’ Just a bit too much protesting there, Chloe!
‘You’re a risk taker, then?’
Holding his gaze and reacting to the challenge glittering in the ebony depths was about the most dangerous thing she had done in a long time. ‘I’m not the one who made a living dodging bullets.’
He stiffened, and their eyes connected once more. The shadows in his gaze belonged to a man who had seen far too much trauma for one lifetime. A moment later his expression shuttered and the change was so abrupt that Chloe was momentarily disorientated.
‘It’s a phase I grew out of.’
It was the bleakness in his voice that made her realise she hadn’t imagined it. For a few seconds she was back in the bar, turning without really knowing why and seeing him sitting there, the most handsome man she had ever seen or actually imagined. In the confusing mesh of emotions—attraction colliding with empathy—she’d felt the pain he was unconsciously emanating.
* * *
Dragging her thoughts back to the present, she extinguished the ache of empathy with a large dose of objectivity. You don’t need another cause, she warned herself, and you definitely don’t need this man.
‘So was anyone else hurt in the accident?’
‘Several people, including my brother-in-law, though he wasn’t then...my brother-in-law, that is. Apparently there had been an oil spill earlier on a blind bend and...it just happened. There was no one to blame but me and fate.’
He tipped his chair back to look at her, though it was hard to read his expression thanks to the thickness of his long lashes. ‘So you believe in fate?’
She shrugged. ‘I believe you make choices and have to live with the consequences.’
‘Well, you don’t seem to have suffered too many long-lasting consequences.’
He really had no idea. She struggled not to touch her leg again, and instead let her eyelids lower, shading her expression with her own long, curling lashes. ‘I was very lucky,’ she agreed quietly.
‘So what else do you believe in?’ He believed in very little and he found himself almost envying her her idealism, but equally he was disturbed by the idea that it might have been some form of this idealism that had first led her to his bed, or him to hers... Had she seen him as some sort of romantic hero or had it meant nothing to her beyond a rite of passage?
He wasn’t actually sure which possibility disturbed him more.
‘I believe in the resilience of human spirit, I believe that you should never take anything for granted and I believe...’ She gave a sudden self-conscious laugh, her eyes sliding from his. ‘I believe that I’m in danger of boring you.’
It came as a shock to realise that they had reached the coffee stage.
‘I’d prefer to be dead!’
The horrified exclamation by one of the female guests coincided with a lull in the conversation.
‘So what is it you prefer death to, my dear?’ The man to her right voiced the question on everyone’s mind.
‘Being a size fourteen!’ She gave a theatrical shudder. ‘Can you imagine?’
Chloe sat there and imagined what this woman would say if she saw the scars on her thigh. She knew full well that her reaction would not be unique.
‘She’s an eating disorder waiting to happen and the sad thing is she has a daughter who she’ll probably pass on her neuroses to.’
Anger struck through Chloe; while she might have agreed with the sentiment Nik had privately voiced in her ear, she doubted he had ever dated a woman who carried any extra weight.
‘So I suppose appearances don’t matter to you,’ she charged bluntly. ‘You’d date someone who wasn’t perfect, would you? You honestly wouldn’t care if your wife gained a hundred pounds or suddenly went bald.’
His brows lifted at the heat of her accusation. ‘That sounds rather personal. Were you an ugly duckling before you became a swan? A fat child with acne...or is that a wig you’re wearing...?’
She reared back as he went to touch her hair.
‘You switched the place cards, didn’t you? So you could sit next to me and drive me around the bend.’
‘You didn’t answer my question.’
‘You didn’t answer mine.’
He tipped his head in acknowledgment. ‘I have some skills,’ he admitted modestly. As he spoke he held out his hand and turned it over, extending his long brown fingers. Then with a flick of his wrist he produced one of the place cards from the sleeve of his opposite hand. ‘Distraction and sleight of hand. I have other skills.’
She compressed her lips and made a point of not asking him what they were.
‘Have you thought about what I said about you coming home with me tonight?’
She choked gently on her mouthful of wine before giving him a direct look. ‘I assumed you were joking.’ She was quite pleased with the compromise; it was a way of saying no without injuring his male ego.
Unfortunately, he didn’t appear to appreciate the favour she was doing him. ‘Then I’ll have to think of a way of showing you that I’m not.’
Her nerve ends tingling in response to the throaty purr of his challenge, she gave a little gasp and knocked over a glass as she bolted to her feet. Aware that people were looking at her, she calmly folded her napkin and dabbed at the damp spot on the snowy cloth. ‘Send me the dry-cleaning bill,’ she joked.
People responded to her quip with smiles and barely looked at her as she walked around the table to where Tatiana sat.
‘I promised to ring the palace to check on...’
Tatiana’s sympathy was instant. ‘Of course. Use my office if you want some privacy, then join us for coffee in the drawing room.’