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She said nothing, uncertain and again on edge, wondering where this unsettling line of inquiry was meant to lead.
‘What about romance?’ he asked abruptly, shocking her. ‘A husband, children...? Do you want those things, eventually?’
Milly hesitated, unsure how to respond. Surely the question was inappropriate, coming from an employer? And yet how could she not answer?
‘I ask because I prefer continuity,’ Alex resumed, almost as if he’d been able to read her thoughts. ‘If you’re going to leave after a year to follow some man...’
‘I am not going to follow some man,’ Milly retorted with stiff dignity. Once upon a time, she would have followed Philippe. She would have followed him anywhere, until she’d found out the truth. Until he’d told her. Even now she could recall the mocking glint in his eyes, the cruel twist to his mouth. She forced the image away and focused on Alex Santos, even though she could barely see him. ‘The question is offensive.’
‘Is it?’ Alex continued to gaze out through the crack between the curtains. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. She felt like a prop in a play, something he could almost forget was there. And yet he was asking her such personal questions...why? ‘And what of children?’ he asked after another long moment.
Milly tried not to gape. ‘I haven’t thought about that,’ she said at last. ‘I’m not interested in having children now, at any rate.’
‘Not now? Or not ever?’
Milly shrugged helplessly. ‘Certainly not now. And perhaps not ever. Not any time soon.’ She knew how fractured and fraught families could be, and while on some level she might have the maternal instinct most women possessed, she had no desire to kick-start it. Anna was her primary concern.
‘So you do not wish to have children?’
Milly felt herself flush. Why was he trying to pin her down on this? ‘Maybe one day,’ she half muttered. ‘I haven’t thought that far ahead. But really, I can’t see how it is any concern of yours.’
‘Perhaps you will.’
‘I’m sorry...?’ He didn’t answer and she released the pent-up breath that had bottled inside her lungs. ‘Is that all, Kyrie... Alex?’ she finally asked. ‘If so, I’ll go now...’
‘That’s not all.’ His words stopped her in her tracks. ‘I have a proposition for you, Miss James.’
‘A proposition?’ She didn’t like the sound of that. The word was loaded with meaning, laced with innuendo, even when spoken in Alexandro Santos’ curt tone. ‘I’m not sure I...’
‘A perfectly respectable one. As respectable as one could possibly be, in fact.’ A note of rather bleak humour that she didn’t understand had entered his voice, and so she simply waited, having no idea how to respond. ‘A business offer,’ Alex clarified. ‘A very generous one. You accepted this position because of the salary, did you not?’
‘Yes...’ And to get away from Paris and the mocking eyes of Philippe and his crowd, but she wasn’t about to go into that.
‘Money is an incentive to you?’
‘Financial stability is.’ And saving money for Anna, but that was something else she had no intention of explaining. It was all too complicated, too sad and too sordid, and her employer did not need to know her personal details.
‘And my business proposition will certainly give you financial stability. In fact, that might be considered its chief benefit. But I admit, it might seem, at first glance, a rather unconventional idea.’ He let out a humourless rasp of laughter that would have chilled her if it hadn’t seemed so despairing. ‘Although perhaps not, considering how sensible and level-headed you seem. I think you might well see the practical advantages.’
‘Thank you, I think?’ Milly gazed at him uneasily, completely out of her depth. ‘But I really have no idea what you’re talking about. What is this...business proposition?’
Although she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. Whatever it was, it didn’t sound like something expected or normal. What could he possibly want from her, in exchange for money?
She wasn’t naïve; neither was she, sadly, that innocent. She had an inkling of what he might want, and yet she could hardly credit such a possibility. She knew she wasn’t pretty—mousy-brown hair, same coloured eyes, a slight, unassuming figure. She wasn’t the sort to incite impassioned desire in any man, never mind what she’d once foolishly, so foolishly, let herself believe, with stars in her eyes and fairy tales in her heart. But she
wasn’t going to think about Philippe.
And it would be just as foolish now to imagine that a man like Alexandro Santos, a handsome billionaire who could probably have any woman he wanted, was interested in her in that way. It was laughable, utterly so, and she would do well to remember that. Just looking at him now, shrouded in darkness, emanating a dark and innate authority as well as an undeniable charisma, made her realise how far apart they were in their experiences. Even when she couldn’t see him, she felt him, like an electric pulse in the air—dangerous and exciting, and definitely off-limits.
Yet what could he want? What else did she have? Her mind darted into possible corners, disliking what she imagined there. What if he was into something...well, strange? Some kind of fetish or weird kink he wouldn’t dare suggest to anyone he considered respectable...but no, she was being really fanciful now. Maybe he simply wanted her housekeeping services.
Perhaps he wanted to fly her to Athens to clean his penthouse there. But Milly knew she was fooling herself. Dusting and sweeping were hardly the most marketable or desirable skills, and it was obvious whatever Alex Santos was about to suggest was something out of the ordinary.
‘Kyrie Santos...’
‘Alex.’
‘Alex.’ She made herself repeat his name, the syllables sounding sharp as they came out of her mouth, like the pins turning in a lock. He still hadn’t turned, hadn’t spoken. ‘Are you going to tell me what this proposition of yours is?’
