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‘No, I’d prefer not to spend the next hour wondering if you’ve become the latest victim of crime. Not when you have a perfectly adequate apartment waiting for you ten floors above.’

‘Black cabs are perfectly safe,’ she replied. In twenty-five minutes, she could be in her North London flat, safely away from this churning atmosphere.

A hint of steel entered his eyes, his sculpted jaw clenching for a moment before he spoke. ‘I’ll spare us both the tedium of throwing out crime stats when it comes to a woman travelling alone at night. I’d prefer it if you would just do as I say and stay upstairs where I can be reassured that the term perfectly safe will be true in this instance.’

Except she wouldn’t be safe. Not when she knew temptation lay right across the hall. ‘Christos—’

‘Alexis?’ The steel was now in his voice, a tone he usually reserved for decimating his opponents.

Their stand-off probably lasted less than a minute. It felt like an hour. ‘Fine, I’ll stay upstairs.’ She sounded less than gracious in defeat.

The gleam in his eyes told her so as he came towards her once more, plucked up the first stack of files from the table and put them in her arms. Then he reached for the second, taller pile.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked, suspicious.

‘Helping you out so you can go to bed quicker,’ he replied blandly, settling the heavy stack against his torso as if it weighed nothing.

Her jaw dropped for a nonplussed second before she caught herself. ‘Why?’

‘Excuse me?’

She took a moment to absorb his mild shock at her question, then asked, ‘Why are you helping me? I can easily get the file trolley to wheel them all back to the office.’

He frowned. ‘You’re now objecting to my assistance?’

‘I’m observing you acting out of character. You’ve never helped me before.’

‘It’s been a long day for both of us, so I’ll help you out. The correct response you’re looking for is a smile and maybe a thank you? In whichever order you prefer to submit them.’

She opened her mouth. Then closed it.

As he’d said, the day had been long and completely out of sorts. So what if he was acting out of character by performing a menial task that was usually her remit?

‘I...thanks,’ she capitulated.

‘You’re welcome. Shall we get on with it? I need a nightcap badly to wash this regrettable day away.’ The tightness to the words resonated in the room.

She nodded, and followed him out of the room, averting her eyes to keep from ogling the tightness of his buttocks as he strode purposefully for the lift.

In the office, he deposited the files on her cabinet and went into his office. She barely had five minutes to text Sophie to tell her she was staying in the executive suite and then answer her flatmate’s flurry of questions before Christos returned. His eyes landed briefly on her phone as she sent the last I’m-fine-I-promise message, but said nothing as he waited for her to gather her handbag and shut down her computer.

In silence, they took the lift upstairs. The double doors to his penthouse were directly opposite the ones to the executive suite.

Swallowing around the sudden tightness in her throat, Alexis placed her hand on the handle. ‘Goodnight—’

‘Not yet. Come and have a drink with me.’ It sounded like an orde

r but his raised eyebrow implied it was a request.

Say no. Say. No.

‘You’ve worked hard today. You deserve a drink too,’ he added when she hesitated. ‘Or are you concerned your inhibitions will be affected again?’ he taunted lightly.

‘I’m confident they won’t,’ she replied boldly, although her insides quivered.

Her last drink with him had led her down a precarious, if enthralling, path. Even without a sip of alcohol she knew he was intoxicating to her senses.

Christos’s gaze grew sharper. ‘So I’m assuming the company is the issue?’

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