"And your hair. You have such luxuriant tresses. Let me introduce you."
He wasn't here. The tension around her heart eased as the evening progressed. They had drinks in the elegant tea room before moving into the dining room.
She was laughing at something one of the men from Greece said to her when she felt the tension at the back of her neck returning. Before the person called out to him in greeting, she knew he had entered the room.
Steeling herself to continue to listen to the conversation of her dinner companion, she forced herself not to look around.
That was until he sat right across from her. She felt his eyes on her but kept her eyes on her companion. She was just going to finish the meal and plead a headache and run for her rooms.
With that plan in mind, she felt better.
Waiting for the right moment, she waited until the plates were cleared and they were getting up. She was hastily saying her goodbyes to the group of men when he came over.
Speaking in fluent Greek, he charmingly asked to be excused and thanked them for coming.
Clamping a hand firmly on her arm, he started to guide her out.
"Stop. Let go of my arm," she hissed.
"People are watching us," he told her in a low voice. "I usually do not like scenes, but right now, I would not mind it one bit."
"What do you want?"
"Not here. We have an audience." She looked up to see a maid coming down the hallway.
When he pushed a pair of glossy red oak doors open, she stiffened. It was a large library that she had used to look up some research on a project she had been in charge of.
Her chance of escaping was quickly blocked when he just stood there leaning on the doors, his arms folded on his chest.
"Say what you have to say and let me get out of here."
"You're still angry."
"What gave it away?"
"I came looking for you."
"I never asked you to."
"You look lovely."
She bristled. "You can take your compliments and shove them..."
"And your language hasn't improved, I see." He was determined to stay calm. She was prickly, the most irritable woman he had ever had the misfortune to meet. But she was under his skin. Like a bloody burr and it hurt like the living hell. He wished he could yank it out, but he couldn't and God help him, he did not want to.
"Well? Is that all you have to say?"
"You have quite a mouth on you." Straightening, he started towards her. Pride alone kept her rooted to the spot, even though her heart was quaking and her knees were shaking.
"Stay away from me," she warned.
"Or what?" He stopped in front of her. "Going to run again?"
"What do you want?" She thought if she resorted to insults, it would send him packing. "Want to see what it feels like to screw the help? Are you so jaded with your own kind that you want to dip into the forbidden pool? Why not try one of the maids? I suggest Maria. She's young and pretty and cannot stop sighing after you. Or even Rosa, she's also young, pretty, and available. There's also..."
"Be quiet." His deep voice was authoritative, stopping her in her tracks.
"You don't..."
