Greek Affairs: In the Boss's Arms. Barbara McMahon
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silently to himself that he’d have her in his bed within twenty-four hours. He couldn’t take much more of this.
‘The charity ball tonight. Everyone will be there—including Parnassus. Needless to say it’ll be seen entirely as a coincidence that we’re there too. When we meet any of his people we’ll affect no knowledge of having met before.’
Lucy had seen the extent of the security detail that both Aristotle and Parnassus commanded, so there had been no chance of a leak. Again the size and importance of what they were working on stunned her.
She asked abruptly, ‘Why is it so important that nobody knows of this, exactly?’
Aristotle’s mouth thinned. ‘Because our two companies merging will put a lot of noses out of joint. We’ll effectively be blowing any competition out of the water; the only companies who will remain safe are the ones who are huge enough to withstand the pressure—people like Kouros Shipping, for instance.’
Lucy nodded, she’d heard of Alexandros Kouros. ‘But … your family?’
His eyes flashed at her persistence, but he answered tightly, ‘My stepmother and brother would oppose this absolutely. Helen would see it as a dilution of my father’s name and a threat to her security. If my brother had even an inkling of this happening he’d do his best to derail it just to get at me. That’s why we have to be vigilant. And they’ll be at the ball tonight too.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Although I wouldn’t worry about him too much—no doubt he’ll be more concerned about scoring the best drugs and the best women.’
Lucy hid her shock at this evidence of little love lost. She quashed her immediate questions. She had no desire to know about Aristotle’s family history. None at all.
CHAPTER SIX
THAT evening, after they’d eaten a sumptuous dinner, Lucy found herself separated from Aristotle. She was feeling almost relaxed, which she knew had something to do with the fact that she’d been seated apart from him, even though she’d felt the weight of his gaze from across the table, periodically.
She’d been seated next to Kallie Kouros, the wife of Alexandros Kouros, who’d proved to be down to earth and utterly charming, giving Lucy hilarious tidbits of information about Athenian society. When her gorgeous husband had come to whisk her away they’d looked so in love, and he’d been so innately protective, it had made a very secret part of Lucy ache … It surprised her, as she’d never found herself envious of happy couples before.
Lucy craned her neck to try and find Aristotle, not even sure why she felt compelled to do so when he was clearly only too happy to leave her to her own devices. Finally she saw him across the room, with his head bent towards a very blonde and very beautiful woman. She saw him smile and it impacted her deeply. He’d never smiled at her like that. Yes, he did, reminded a little voice. That night outside your apartment.
Immediately she could feel her blood cooling, the colour draining from her face. A strange falling feeling made her feel shaky all of a sudden. On a complete reflex, to deny her reaction and the fact that it might possibly be stemming from feeling jealous, she whirled around and made blindly for the ladies room.
After collecting herself she went to the sink and splashed some cold water on her face. When she stood up again she nearly jumped out of her skin to see Helen Levakis, Aristotle’s stepmother standing beside her, reapplying her blood-red lipstick.
She looked at Lucy and said, ‘Lizzie, wasn’t it?’
Lucy shook her head, fascinated by this woman’s brittle shell. ‘Lucy.’
The woman smiled insincerely. ‘My apologies. Ari seems to have a new assistant every time he comes home.’
Lucy washed her hands briskly. ‘It’s no problem.’
Helen Levakis turned and rested back against the ledge. ‘You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you? I saw that little look outside, when you saw him with another woman.’
Lucy tried and knew she was probably failing to keep the shock from her face. This woman had stuck a knife right into the tender heart of her, and to realise that was huge.
She found her voice. ‘Excuse me, but I really don’t think it’s any of your—’
‘You’re right,’ the woman dismissed cuttingly. ‘However, I thought I’d do you a favour. Ari may sleep with a woman like you, but he’ll never marry a woman like you. That’s more than likely why he’s home. He’ll be looking for a suitable bride soon. A man like him? He’ll want to have an heir to secure his inheritance. He’ll do anything to stop his brother getting what’s rightfully his.’
Lucy watched the tall thin woman disappear back out into the bustling throng with a last glacial glance. She turned to face the mirror, realised that she was holding her breath and let it out in a big whoosh. What on earth had precipitated that? And what did she mean about his brother? And was Ari really looking for a suitable bride as well as the merger? And was she really that transparent?
Lucy forced herself to stand tall and looked at herself critically. She’d chosen one of the less revealing dresses, but still she wanted to yank it up and pull it down. One-shouldered, silk, it cut across her bosom far too low for her liking, and showed a veritable acreage of pale skin, which she was very conscious of in this milieu of much skinnier, more sun-kissed people.
The dark grey seemed to make her eyes stand out too large in her face, and her hectic flush had nothing to do with makeup and everything to do with embarrassment that everyone in the room must have seen her mooning after her boss. Well, it ended here. For the next two weeks it was work only. She’d keep Aristotle at arm’s length however she could. A dart of doubt struck her. How did she know he hadn’t already transferred his affections to that blonde? Perhaps he’d finally grown weary of chasing his too tall and too buxom secretary?
Choking back a frustrated cry at her own awful weakness and feeling so vulnerable, she left the bathroom—every intention of going back to the hotel. She got out to the lobby and retrieved her coat. She’d just leave a note for—
‘Where have you been?’
A hard hand whirled her around so fast she lost her balance and ended up plastered against Aristotle’s chest, looking up, slightly winded. When she realised what she was doing she scrambled back, inarticulate anger rushing through her. ‘I’m going back to the hotel. I’m tired.’
‘Well, I’m not—and we’re not finished here.’
‘It’s a social event. Surely you don’t need me to work.’
‘I …’ Ari faltered. He’d been about to say, I do need you. But she was right. It wasn’t for work, and if it wasn’t for work then what was it? Had he got so used to her calm, insightful presence? Had he really missed her throughout dinner?
He made the only decision he could. ‘Fine, then I’ll escort you back.’
A huge neon danger sign flashed over Lucy’s head. ‘No!’ She tempered her response. ‘I mean—you stay. I don’t want to drag you away …’ From that blonde you were obviously enjoying so much.
But in his usual arrogant way he’d already taken her arm and was leading her outside, where as if by magic his car drew up in front of them.
She tried again in the car. ‘Really, you should stay.’
He quirked a small hard smile, leaning back easily, studying her. ‘Oh, really? Should I?’
Lucy’s hands twisted in her lap. She felt something intangible shift between them. The energy was palpable. ‘Yes …’ Why did her voice sound breathy all of a sudden? ‘Yes,’ she said again, stronger. ‘You should. You obviously have … people to talk to.’
Aristotle grimaced when he recalled trying to evade the clutches of Pia Kyriapoulos just now. A very beautiful and very wealthy divorcee, she’d made