Page 8 of Vienna Bliss

Alexander shook his head and drank his coffee, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

When she was full, Alena refilled her teacup and glanced at him, brow raised. “Ready to talk?”

Alexander nodded, a tight motion, then rose and came to help her from her chair. At the very end of the longer part of the room was a glass door that let them out onto the same massive patio where they’d attempted to have dinner last night.

She hadn’t noticed this door, probably thanks to the potted tree that partially obscured the door. Yesterday she also hadn’t noticed the stairs that led down to the ground level.

That’s where Alexander led them.

On the ground floor, several seating areas were clustered under the protection of the patio above. A basket by one of the square wooden column held rolled up blankets, one of which Alexander grabbed.

She hadn’t stopped to put on shoes, but the ground they stepped onto was soft with grass. Alexander led them to a spot where the more manicured grass gave way to the taller reeds. He spread the blanket, a thick woven one that worked well as ground cover, out under a tree. This early, there was very little shade to be had because of the angle of the sun so they sat with their backs to the dawn, though after only a second Alena opted to prop herself up on one hand to take her weight off her side and hip.

“What do I need to know?” Alexander asked softly.

Alena glanced at him as he sat beside her. The sun was at his back, painting his dark hair with gold light. His features were somewhat shadowed, his expression almost stoic.

Her black knight.

A ridiculous, romantic fantasy, but one that seemed all too real, all too right.

“That’s your question?”

“Will you answer it?”

“Of course.”

He nodded in reply.

Her heart, her stupid, stupid heart, thudded in her chest and a wave of emotion swept over her. She didn’t know what to call this feeling—joyous relief? Or was it simply love?

She’d used this wonderful man, first as a way to get information, then for her own pleasure. Used him because she hadn’t been able to walk away from the way he made her feel.

And now he was forgiving her, far more simply and quickly than she could have ever dared hope.

It took her a moment to fight through the emotions enough to speak.

“Thank you, Alexander.”

“For?” He was still looking out at the water.

“For trusting me.”

There was silence, then he quietly said, “I don’t trust you.”

Alena jerked back, sitting up, which in turn sent stabs of pain through her butt. “Then why did you just ask me to tell you what I thought you needed to know?”

Finally he turned to look at her, and his face was a cool mask, the man who’d slept beside her, eaten breakfast with her, gone. She was looking at Alexander the billionaire, the powerful, cold CEO.

“Which information you chose to give me would tell me as much as the information itself.”

Alena hurt, and not just from her bruised backside. It felt like he’d stabbed her, like she’d shifted close to him, ready for a romantic kiss only to find a knife sliding between her ribs.

Alena pushed to her feet.

“Running away?” he asked mildly.

She turned to look at the water. “No, just taking a minute.”