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He was fed up to the back teeth with it all. He leant back in his leather chair, hands resting palm-down on the surface of the desk.
‘I have no intention,’ he spelt out, eyeballing her, ‘of having my mother upset. Nor Ari. So you’ll come with us to Paris, and that is all there is to it.’
Her eyes flashed furiously. ‘You cannot possibly want to do what your mother’s planned? You objected fast enough when she announced it!’
He had. It was true. An instinctive objection, and one that he had not been able to express in any way other than by claiming pressure of work. But his mother had calmly informed him that she’d checked with his PA and been told that there was no pressing business to prevent him taking time out for the coming week.
‘I repeat,’ he said brusquely, ‘I will not have my mother upset. Nor Ari. We have no alternative but to go through with this farce. God knows—’ his voice was edged suddenly ‘—it’s been a farce right from the start!’ He took a short breath, silencing her evident desire to riposte by raising a hand peremptorily. ‘However,’ he continued, ‘from Paris you will go back to London. You’ve already spent more time with Ari than is good for him. Now, that is all there is to be said on the subject. And since,’ he finished with heavy mordancy, ‘I am to be away from my desk from tomorrow, I have a great deal of work to get through today!’
It was a dismissal, and he looked at her pointedly. For a moment she just stood there, visibly fulminating.
‘Ann,’ he said, and there was something in his voice that crawled over her skin, ‘if you are waiting for me to make you a cash offer for your compliance, you will, I warn you, be disappointed. You’ve already been paid for your time with my family—consider Paris as part of that holiday.’
His eyes rested on her, and for a moment two spots of colour burned in her cheeks as her lips pressed together tightly. Then, without a further word, she turned on her heel and left.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘COME on, AUNTIE Annie! Come on!’ Ari’s piping voice was breathless with excitement. Ann finished replaiting her hair, and smiled down at him.
‘Nearly ready. Why not go and check if your uncle is?’
Ari zoomed off to the connecting suite in the hotel, repeating his urging. Ann took a big breath to steady herself. She was here, in Paris, about to set off for the theme park—and she was with Nikos. She didn’t want to be, but she was. And she just had to cope.
Somehow.
Ari, however, was of course ecstatic with excitement as they made their way into the heartland of any child’s dreams. Open-mouthed, he stared around, exclaiming at every scene.
In the central concourse, Nikos hunkered down beside him with the park map opened out. ‘OK, Ari, what ride do you want to do first?’
There followed two hours of breathless bliss for Ari, though for Ann, on those rides where Ari was snuggled between them, she felt that Nikos was far too physically close to her—especially when his arm reached around the back of the car, dangerously near her shoulders. But for Ari’s sake she bore it stoically and tried not to tense too obviously.
And yet Nikos, she noticed, seemed to take her presence in his stride. She knew she was doing it for Ari, but Ann found, against her will, that as the afternoon wore on her tension was wearing off. She even caught herself exchanging amused smiles with Nikos when Ari made some childish expression of delight.
As the afternoon waned, Ari started to flag. Nikos hefted him up on his shoulders, and they made their way to the exit, buying a helium-filled balloon on route. Back at the hotel, Nikos had booked Ari a ‘fun tea,’ and afterwards, tired out from all the excitement, he went willingly to bed.
‘Asleep?’ The deep voice sounded from the communicating doorway.
Ann stood up from where she had been sitting on Ari’s bed. She nodded.
‘Exhausted by an excess of fun,’ said Nikos. He strolled in and looked down at the sleeping boy. Something shifted in his eyes suddenly.
‘I see Andreas in him—’ He stopped. As if he had said what he shouldn’t. His tone changed, deliberately lightening. ‘He’s had a good day—no doubt about that.’
‘Yes,’ said Ann. Her voice was stilted. It was the first time she had been in Nikos’s company today without Ari’s presence as an essential diversion.
‘I’ve ordered dinner to be served in my suite in about an hour. That way we don’t have to worry about organising a babysitting service—just keep the communicating door open.’
‘Oh,’ said Ann. She hadn’t really known what to expect. Obviously she didn’t actually want to have dinner with Nikos, but at least there would be waiting staff present.
But when, having spent the hour having a bath, she nerved herself to go through, it was to find that no servers were present. The table was beautifully laid, the first course set out already, and the second course was being kept hot on a side table. Almost she retreated, then steeled herself. She could get through this if she tried.
Nikos was pouring from a bottle of wine. He didn’t ask whether Ann wanted any, just set a full glass at her place opposite him. He must have showered, Ann realised, for his hair was damply f
eathering, and he was freshly shaved too. He’d changed into an open necked shirt and dark blue trousers. He looked—she gulped silently—devastating.
But then he always did! It didn’t matter what or where or when! He always, always made her stomach hollow.
Always had. Always would.
