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And when they were finished, he extricated himself from her embrace, got out of the bed, and as he went to shower, he coolly informed her that they’d leave in a couple of hours.
Under the spray he rested his hands on the wall, dropped his head and felt the crushing weight of something take residence in his chest. When he came out, Kallie
had gone back to her own bedroom and Alexandros wanted to smash his fist into something very hard. He was at war with something…and he was very much afraid it was himself. And that he didn’t know the terms of engagement.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
KALLIE had walked around Alexandros’s apartment, which was on the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré. One of the most exclusive addresses in Paris. It was huge. It was her first time there. And now she stood in the main living room with her bags at her feet. When she’d returned home earlier that evening, her small apartment had been mobbed with the paparazzi who’d followed them from the airport. She’d been bombarded with questions. Why are you here? Why aren’t you living with Alexandros? Trouble in paradise already?
Alexandros, behind her in the car, had stepped out and coolly informed them that they were merely picking up some things and that Kallie was moving in with him.
Too shocked to speak outside, she’d rounded on him in her tiny apartment, her voice high with tension. ‘Since when was I going to move in with you?’
He’d merely shrugged, looking around with interest, making Kallie frightened. She’d wanted to kick and scream, tell him to get out of her sanctuary. It was too much. Her private space was the only place he hadn’t invaded completely and now he was here, too, looking around like an inspector. This cool, aloof man scared her. He had the power to make her weak. To break her in two.
He’d fixed her with those eyes. Black and unreadable. ‘Kallie, it makes sense. They’ll be like dogs with a bone. Do you want that kind of attention? I certainly don’t and I’d say your neighbours could do without it as well.’
Guilt had flooded her. A lot of old people lived in her building and she could only imagine what they’d make of having to step over photographers every day. They might even get hurt. But the thought of living with him terrified her. ‘But surely it won’t last?’
He’d shrugged again and she’d wanted to hit him. ‘As long as they think there’s a story, they’ll hound you here. And by not moving in with me, that’s a story.’
She’d closed her eyes briefly. The more time they spent together, the sooner he’d want to get rid of her. Maybe it was the best solution.
‘I’ll only do it out of respect for my area, for this building. I can’t afford to be thrown out because I’m causing a disturbance.’
Kallie walked over to the window of his palatial living room now and looked out. They were between the Ritz Hotel and the Jardin des Tuileries. A truly spectacular address. And she couldn’t have cared less. She could have been in the gritty suburbs for all she cared, as long as she was away from him. She sighed deeply. Because she knew that wasn’t true.
Alexandros watched her back from the door. It was ramrod straight, her hands stuck into the back pockets of her jeans. Her cashmere cardigan buttoned down the back, making his fingers itch to go and unbutton it, run his hands around to her front and up to cup her breasts. He could feel their warmth and weight in his hands.
She was getting him hard just looking at her back!
She was the image of simplicity and natural beauty. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, exposing her neck. He knew without looking that her skin had a glow from the Athenian sun, that more freckles had appeared on her nose. In a rare moment of lightness that had snuck up all too easily, he’d teased her and she’d become embarrassed. And then he’d taken her mind off it by insisting on checking the rest of her body for freckles.
His smile faded when he recalled her reaction to moving in with him. Especially when he hadn’t even planned on asking her. He was meant to be saying goodbye, arranging for the divorce, having slaked his lust for this woman. And now she was here, living with him…But right now that lust still held him in its hot grip and he didn’t feel like it was ever going to wane. A rebellious feeling rose up. He had her right where he wanted her. He didn’t need to look into it any deeper than that.
Like an irritating itch, he remembered following her up to her apartment, which he’d only seen from the door before. He’d been pleasantly surprised by the chic, clean minimalism. The shelves filled with books. It had peace and tranquillity, inherent good taste that called to something inside him.
Kallie had paced up and down, agitated. Alexandros had felt a surge of dissatisfaction. What was so abhorrent about coming to live with him? He knew countless women who’d jump at the chance. He’d suddenly realised that, apart from paying for her tickets to Greece and covering meals out, he hadn’t given Kallie any money or any gifts. It felt strange. He had to remind himself that he hadn’t wanted to give her anything. And yet, why hadn’t she asked? Why hadn’t she cajoled something out of him by now? He just couldn’t imagine her doing it.
She turned around now and saw him. His breath stopped. Her eyes that looked at him now so gravely were not the eyes of the Isabelle Zolanzes of the world. From what he’d seen in the past couple of weeks, she took too much delight in ordinary things. If he offered her a diamond bracelet right now, she’d probably wonder what he was up to and hand it back. It startled him how clearly he knew this, felt this. And how far removed it was from the woman he’d imagined her to be that night at the Ritz Hotel.
And how far removed it was from any woman he’d ever known.
That’s why he couldn’t trust it. He walked towards her, slowly and with intent. Catching her to him, he could feel that initial rigidity, as if she had to let him know she was fighting this, and as he took her mouth, feeling as though it was the first time again, he triumphed in the way with a little sigh she sank against him and became…his.
‘Well, when is she going to be finished?’
‘I’m not sure, Mr Kouros. It’s a big function and Pierre Baudat has specifically requested that Kallie be here for the whole thing.’
Alexandros muttered something unintelligible and put down the phone. He stood up and strode over to his window, hands stuck deep in his pockets. When his secretary put her head around the door he told her to leave him alone for ten minutes. She scuttled back out.
In the past couple of weeks, since Kallie had moved into his apartment, he could count on his hands the amount of hours they’d spent together. The day after she’d moved in she’d got a contract to organise a last-minute function for one of France’s top actor/directors.
Now, much to his chagrin, she was invariably up before him, home after him and so tired when she did get back that she didn’t have the energy for much else. He’d actually found himself in the unique situation of living with a woman for the first time, yet not having a willing partner waiting for him every evening, and had to acknowledge the fact that she was possibly even busier than he was. This certainly wasn’t part of the plan. She’d told him she worked hard but he hadn’t expected her to do it while she was with him!
Alexandros frowned. The question niggled again. It had been haunting him for days now. Why didn’t he just get the divorce? He’d only needed to get married for the minimum amount of time and that had been well served by now. He didn’t need Kallie any more. She’d fulfilled her end of the agreement. Agreement…don’t you mean blackmail?
He conveniently ignored the ever-present hum of desire in his body that told him exactly why he hadn’t arranged for the divorce yet.
