A Ring to Secure His Heir. LYNNE GRAHAM
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almost laughed out loud at her annoyance. She was fizzing with rage, all five tiny feet of her, green eyes glittering like gemstones in her defensive little face. ‘It’s mine. Thank you,’ he said quietly.
‘Don’t be so careless!’ she told him thinly. ‘If that money had gone missing, the cleaners might have been accused of theft!’
‘Your honesty does you proud,’ Alexius asserted softly, thinking that he could surely now with good conscience tell Socrates to go ahead and pursue the acquaintance.
‘That is so patronising!’ Rosie shot back at him furiously, amazed at the amount of anger bubbling up through her in response to his insouciant attitude to the situation that might have developed had she not found and returned the money he had misplaced. ‘I may be poor but that doesn’t mean I’m more likely to be dishonest! You’re very prejudiced! There are thieves in every walk of life.’
Far from amused by the cleaner deciding that she had the right to shout at him, Alexius surveyed her with eyes suddenly as cold and wintry as black ice. ‘You’ve had your say and I respect your honesty, even if I didn’t like your mode of delivery. Now … leave,’ he commanded. ‘I have calls to make.’
Rosie was stunned by the transformation in him and incredulous that she could have lost control to the extent of raising her voice and being unnecessarily rude. She turned on her heel, thought about apologising and decided that it would be a waste of time as she recalled that chilly look of detachment and enormous authority in his searing gaze. It was as if he had just frozen in front of her into someone else. She had crossed boundaries she should have respected and offended him. She was relieved that she had finished her shift because she literally couldn’t wait to get out of the building.
‘Are you sure that you don’t mind me taking the van home with me tonight?’ Zoe pressed as the two women pushed the trolley through the ground-floor foyer.
‘No, as I said earlier, I’ll catch a bus,’ Rosie responded absently.
‘Thanks, Rosie,’ her dark-haired companion remarked as the two women loaded the cleaning equipment into the back of the van. ‘Mum hasn’t seen her sister in ages and I’ll be able to drop her off early tomorrow and pick her up again on Sunday afternoon.’
‘Vanessa never minds as long as you get the van back in time for Monday,’ Rosie warned her co-worker as the brunette closed up the van and climbed into the driver’s seat.
‘Why are you so quiet?’ Zoe asked suddenly. ‘Did something happen tonight between you and that guy?’
‘Nothing,’ Rosie lied as lightly as she could.
And it was nothing, she told herself. She had met a guy who attracted her to an unbearable degree but nothing had happened and that was as it should be. Ships that passed and all that, better that than a messy collision such as her mother had specialised in. But she could still see him back in that conference room studying her as if she were a particularly repulsive beetle below a microscope, something utterly beneath him, his distaste and antipathy palpable. That had hurt, that had driven deep. She had shouted and he had taken offence and she couldn’t blame him for that, could she? She had found his money and he had thanked her for her honesty. What more could he have done? She shrugged off the feeling that a dark cloud had fallen over her.
CHAPTER TWO
ROSIE was walking towards the bus stop when a large bulky shape stepped out of the shadows cast by the tall office block into her path. ‘Rosie? I’ve been waiting for you for ages,’ he complained.
What little was left of Rosie’s earlier good mood sank like a stone. It was Jason, her former flatmate Mel’s boyfriend. Blond and blue-eyed, he had the large square physique of a keen body-builder and his sheer width gave him an undeniable air of menace. She was annoyed that he had the nerve to approach her when she had already made her lack of interest plain. As she thrust up her chin in challenge a surprisingly fierce light brightened her eyes. ‘What are you doing here? Why would you be waiting for me?’ she asked accusingly.
‘Because I wanted to see you, talk to you … that’s all,’ Jason told her, his formidable jaw set at a bullish angle.
‘But I don’t want to talk to you,’ Rosie responded tartly and attempted to walk on past him.
Jason closed a hand the size of a giant meat hook round her forearm to hold her fast. ‘I deserve a chance to talk to you—’
‘Why the heck would you think that you deserve anything?’ Rosie demanded in angry rebuttal, her temper rising at his stubborn persistence. She was tired and fed up and well aware that she had an early start the next morning. The last thing she needed in the mood she was in was to be confronted by the man who had already caused considerable trouble in her private life. ‘Thanks to your selfishness, I lost my friendship with Mel and my home!’
‘Mel and I have broken up. I’m a free man again,’ Jason informed her smugly. ‘That’s why I’m here.’
‘I’m not interested … Let go of me, Jason!’ Rosie exclaimed impatiently as she attempted to yank herself free of his confining hold.
‘Simmer down, Rosie. As I said, all I want to do is have a little chat with you—’
‘Let go of me!’ Rosie shouted at him furiously, outraged that he was still holding her against her will. ‘Right now!’
‘Let go of her.’ The intervention came without warning, couched in quiet but surprisingly carrying tones.
Jason flipped round, dragging Rosie with him, the hand he had clasped to her arm tightening painfully. ‘What the hell’s it got to do with you?’ he demanded pugnaciously.
Rosie stared in disconcertion at Alex Kolovos. He must have seen what was happening as he was leaving the building. Jason’s face was livid, his stance openly threatening.
‘Let go of Rosie,’ Alexius instructed curtly, his face hard as granite in the street light.
‘Don’t get involved in this,’ Rosie urged, trying once again to pull free of Jason’s grip.
Although coming to the rescue of a damsel in distress was not his style, Alexius experienced not an ounce of hesitation. He had seen the encounter as he emerged from the building and had known that he had to intervene. She was clearly in trouble.
‘Yeah, that’s right … don’t get involved or you’ll be sorry!’ Jason shouted in a rising rage, at the sound of which Rosie paled and shivered in the cool night air. ‘This is a private conversation—’
‘Not when you’re manhandling a woman,’ Alexius interrupted in a tone of undisguised condemnation.
Rigid with raging tension, Jason swore and took a violent swing at Alexius. A gasp of dismay escaped Rosie but, faster than she would have believed possible, Alexius ducked the incoming fist and punched Jason squarely in the solar plexus. Winded, Jason reeled back a step in shock at the hit and thrust Rosie away from him with a brutal shove so that he could more easily move in to attack again. As Rosie lost her footing and went flying across the pavement with bruising force a cry of pain was wrenched from her lips. Almost simultaneously, she heard a shout, Jason’s roar of fury and finally the sound of running feet.
In the space of a minute, Alex Kolovos was bending over her and raising her up. ‘Don’t try to move,’ he urged, already noting the blood that had seeped through the legs of her cotton uniform trousers on which she had gone skidding across the pavement. ‘Something might be broken.’
‘Don’t think so … it just hurts,’ Rosie was suddenly painfully conscious of the ache of her bruises and the sting of the abrasions inflicted on her legs and arms. She grimaced, feeling ridiculously like a child who had fallen down, reckoning that the skinned knees and elbows she could feel had borne the brunt of the damage.
He was talking urgently in Greek into a mobile phone