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Apollo searched for any hint of a crack in her facade but she looked utterly guileless. Did she really not remember saying to him, ‘Why not use me? Surely it’s better for you to be seen with a wife than not? It’ll help your business to be seen as more settled.’
When they’d married, he hadn’t had any intention of involving her in his life more than he’d had to, but he’d had to admit that on some level she was right. And so he’d taken her to a couple of events.
Sasha was looking at him now. ‘What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘You don’t remember?’
She went pale. ‘No. What did I do?’
‘Let’s just say that you ruffled some feathers.’
‘How?’
‘You were rude to staff and visibly bored when you realised that the social and corporate events I attend aren’t generally designed for entertainment purposes.’
Sasha felt queasy. Was there anything she had done right? ‘I can’t keep apologising for things I can’t remember. But maybe this is an opportunity to make it up to you. No matter what I did, won’t your friends and colleagues be wondering where your wife is?’
He didn’t refute her question so she asked, ‘What time do you have to leave? It won’t take me long to get ready.’
He arched a brow. ‘I’ll believe that when I see it.’ He put his sunglasses back over his eyes and without that laser-like gaze stripping her bare she breathed easier.
‘I have to leave in an hour. If you’re coming, be downstairs waiting for me, or I go alone. I won’t wait, Sasha.’
Less than an hour later, Sasha waited nervously downstairs in the main hall for Apollo. After his ultimatum she’d panicked. She had no idea how on earth to get ready for such an event. She’d found Kara in the kitchen and had begged the young woman to come with her to help her. Initially she had been reluctant but then she’d relented, telling Sasha that Apollo had asked for his tuxedo to be ready for him so at least they knew it was black-tie.
They’d managed to find a dress that was suitable and not too revealing, and Kara had helped with her hair and make-up. And now Sasha stood here, wondering what on earth she’d been doing, saying she’d go along to an event—she had no idea if she would be able to handle herself in such a milieu. She’d been serving drinks when she’d met him, not drinking them!
She would make a fool of herself and any hope she had of redeeming herself in Apollo’s eyes would be gone. And what deeper impulse was whispering to her to look for redemption? Then what? Did she want him to like her again?
Want her again?
Panic gripped her. She couldn’t do this. She turned to flee back to her room before Apollo saw her—he’d obviously not expected her to be ready anyway. But it was too late. He was at the top of the stairs and staring at her as if she were a total stranger. Her own eyes widened and her chest constricted as the air rushed out.
He was wearing a classic black tuxedo. White shirt, black bow-tie. She was not prepared for his impact on her. And yet she’d seen him like this before, the first night they’d met. A vivid flashback assailed her before she knew what was happening—Apollo had been helping her with her heavy tray of drinks and she’d been laughing and getting hot with embarrassment. ‘Honestly, I’m fine. If my boss sees you helping me, I’ll get into trouble.’
He’d kept hold of the tray, ‘I’m not letting go unless you agree to come for a drink with me afterwards.’
She’d seen her boss then, across the room, clocking her. Terrified she’d lose the job, she’d said, ‘Okay, fine! Now, please...let me go.’
That memory faded but, as easily as if it had been there all the time, just hiding behind a curtain, she now remembered that evening, and fragmented images from another evening, a date...going for dinner with him in a beautiful restaurant in a tall glittering building with London laid out before them, a sea of twinkling lights... She’d been so excited. Nervous. Incredulous.
Happy...
Apollo couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Sasha, waiting for him. Ready. And looking presentable. More than presentable.
Beautiful.
She was wearing a black silk one-shouldered dress, with ornate silk flowers trailing over one shoulder. Cut on the bias, the dress fell in soft billowing folds to the floor.
A braid framed one side of her face and her hair was pulled back into a low bun. It was all at once pretty and youthful but also elegant. Discreet diamonds shone in her ears. Her hands and throat were bare. Her make-up was minimal.
The starkness of the black dress only served to highlight her delicate fair colouring. Those vivid blue eyes. It was a far cry from her usual style, which was showing as much skin as possible, with lots of make-up, jewellery and big hair.
Desire pulled taut like a drum inside him. He had to force himself to move down the stairs. When he got close, her eyes were huge, on him, as if she’d never seen him before. She looked pale and he could see that her fingers were holding her clutch bag so tight her knuckles were white.
‘What is it? Are you okay?’
She swallowed and nodded jerkily. She sounded a bit breathless. ‘I just... I just remembered London. More about that night we met. And another night?’
