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I’m downstairs in your lobby.
It’s in your interest to give me ten minutes of your time.
I’m certain you’ll regret it if you don’t.
Sadie
Bold words, which would either grant me an audience or fritter away the mercy he’d shown me by not asking Wendell to break out the handcuffs that day in London.
I looked up to see Wendell heading my way, as if summoned by my thought. My heart dropped, but I refused to look away.
‘If you’re here to throw me out, you should know that I’ll simply turn around and come straight back. Maybe you should tell your boss that?’
His expression didn’t change. ‘Mr Xenakis will see you now.’
I swallowed my surprise and followed him.
This time, knowing the calibre of the man who waited behind another set of imposing doors, I tightened my gut, sure I could mitigate the effect.
I was wrong.
Being on his home turf had heaped another layer of magnificent appeal upon a man who already held more than his fair share. In the sunlight that filtered through wide, rectangular windows, his dark hair gleamed. A skin-skimming stubble highlighted his strong jaw, and with that sexy dimple in his chin it was impossible to stop the flare of heat that attacked my body, robbing me of vital breath for precious seconds.
The matching jacket to his tailored grey trousers hung on a hook in the far corner of his office, leaving him in a pristine white shirt that moulded his broad shoulders and powerful biceps.
Terrified I was already losing the fight for composure, I hurried to speak. To get this over with.
‘Thank you for seeing me, Mr Xenakis.’
Eyes that had been conducting a slow, thorough scrutiny of me rose to fix on my face. ‘Miss Preston.’ His voice was grave. ‘I’m beginning to think you have some sort of death wish. Or do you simply relish testing my patience?’
‘Neither. Believe me, this is the last place I want to be.’
His arrogant head cocked. ‘I sense the inevitable but coming,’ he drawled mockingly. ‘Although I have no earthly idea what it could be.’
Despite his words, he narrowed his eyes, as if he fully suspected a scam. Or worse.
Say it. Just say it and leave.
I sucked in a breath that went nowhere near replenishing my lungs or giving me the courage I craved. ‘I’m pregnant. The baby is yours. I thought you should know.’
Deathly silence echoed in the vast office. Then he inhaled sharply, the white-hot sound sizzling across the large room.
‘Christos, you do have a death wish,’ he breathed in sizzling disbelief, and his face, unlike last time, when there’d been shock and bleak despair, was a picture of complete and utter fury.
‘I don’t, I assure you. But—’
‘Then you’ve taken complete leave of your senses. Because that can be the only viable explanation for this—’ He stopped abruptly, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.
For one mad moment I wanted to say yes. That only a peculiar strain of madness would explain why I couldn’t look away from his face, why I couldn’t quite catch my breath in his presence.
‘The door is behind you. Use it right now or I won’t be held responsible for my actions.’
It was a hushed entreaty, perhaps even a final attempt at civility for a man hanging by a thread.
Considering I’d jumped on a plane with little hope of being granted even this audience, I was surprised I’d got this far. But complete dismissal wasn’t what I’d expected.
The urge to linger, to make him believe, if only for the sake of telling my baby someday that I’d tried, fired through me—along with the question that still demanded an answer. The question about his false statement, the consequences of which had certainly taken me by surprise.
