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His eyes were cold and unblinking, and Jade was reminded of the dangerous stillness of a snake.
‘No implication. Statement of fact. Might I suggest that next time you try and convince a man you’re a virgin you try to feign a little innocence. Virgins don’t usually make love with the kind of panache and fervour which you have just demon- strated.’ And he began to turn away again.
Jade tasted salt at the back of her throat. ‘You’re sick,’ she told him.
‘Wrong. I am not sick, merely weary—of you. Now, are you going to go quietly, or do I have to ring down and ask Security to remove you?’
It was only by imagining a wax figure of him harpooned by pins, while pulling the rest of her clothes on, that Jade could stop herself from breaking down in front of him. She knew that he watched her, but she didn’t dare look at him. Be- cause if she looked at him she might just rake her fingernails all down that arrogant face of his.
It was only as she began to open the door that she looked at him, hatred burning from her eyes. ’Oh, Constantine,’ she said softly.
The black eyes glittered as he raised his eyebrows in arrogant query. ‘What is it?’
‘I hope you rot in hell!’ she shot, as, back erect, she walked out of his suite and slammed the door shut on his low, mocking laughter.
CHAPTER FIVE
JADE left Park Lane and walked and walked and walked, her body still aching and tingling, her mind in tatters—willing the tears not to come, because she suspected that if she started crying she might never stop. Eventually she found herself back at the offices of the Daily View, aware that the other members of staff were staring at her as though she’d just landed in an alien spaceship. And then she caught a sight of herself in one of the mirrors and immediately knew why; she was in shock. White- faced and distraught, she stared numbly while Maggie, the Daily View’s female boss, came bustling out of her office and propelled Jade inside.
I’m living my nightmare, thought Jade dully, as she stared in disbelief at the black and white photos which lay scattered all over Maggie’s desk.
Photos of Constantine.
Reality became a distant memory. ‘Where did you get these?’ she asked dully.
‘Brent took them surreptitiously. At the Granchester. Honey—do you actually know this guy?’
And Jade did the most unprofessional thing in the world and burst into tears.
Maggie dumped a box of tissues in front of her and hurried away to the coffee machine, bringing back a steaming polystyrene beaker and adding something to it, before giving it to Jade.
‘Here. Drink this.’
Waiting until a shuddering sob had died away, Jade obeyed, immediately wincing. ‘What have you put in it?’
‘Brandy,’ said Maggie, who drank a bucket of the stuff every day. ‘Drink it. It’ll do you good.’
What it did do was increase her sense of being removed from reality, which Jade wasn’t sure was a good thing at all. Detached. As though what had just happened had happened to someone else. But then she felt the aching deep inside her, felt the tingling of her breasts where he’d bitten and suckled them, and she knew for sure that it had happened to her. Briefly, she closed her eyes.
She put the empty cup down on the desk and dabbed at her eyes. ‘Just who is he?’ she asked in a quiet voice.
Maggie’s eyes widened. ‘You mean you don’t know?’
‘Of course I don’t know—if I knew I wouldn’t be asking!’
‘Who did you think he was?’
Jade felt muzzy. ‘I met him on holiday. A gorgeous Greek guy I happened to fall for whose family run a restaurant.’
Maggie snorted. ‘Restaurant! He probably owns every damned restaurant in the entire Aegean!’
Jade looked up from sniffing into her tissue. ’Who is he?’ she repeated.
‘He is Constantine Sioulas.’
‘I know that.’
‘He owns the biggest shipping line in the world. In the millionaire class, he’s head and shoulders above the rest. For rich read billionaire.’
