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Why had he had to see her again? What malign twist of fate had made it happen?
He took a brooding mouthful of the whisky, feeling its fire burn down his throat. He wanted to numb everything inside him. Wanted the alcohol to shut down all sensation, all thought. All memory.
But it wouldn’t work. The memory was still alive, writhing like a pit of snakes in his belly.
And it wasn’t just memory inside him. There was something more dangerous, more powerful…
No! I will not allow it! I will not let myself go there! Never, ever again! I cauterised it four years ago—and I will not let it back in! I will not!
His mind slammed into action, exerting every gram of self-discipline.
I will control this! It will not control me!
The mantra gritted through his head, repeating as his fingers pressed tighter still around the curve of the glass. It was vital, essential, to keep control. Because if he failed—
The snakes writhed inside him again, and he slugged back another mouthful of whisky. He wanted to sleep, craved oblivion, but he knew with a thick anger that if he slept it would be worse, far worse, than staying awake. If he slept—he would dream.
Memories he could control. But dreams…
He pushed himself away abruptly from the window, and ranged restlessly around the room. How the hell had Sophie Granton come to end up working as an escort? His glass stilled even as he started to lift it again to his mouth. The image of her face as she’d flung her stinging answer at him seared in his mind.
‘I need the bloody money!’
He’d recoiled—the venom in her voice had been virulent.
Again, his brows snapped together. Why was she so strapped for cash?
What had happened to Sophie Granton since he had discovered what she was really after? Granton plc had gone under. He’d known that—known it was inevitable the moment he’d pulled Kazandros Corp out of the negotiations and gone back to Athens to report that the risks were too great.
And so they had been—but not to Kazandros Corp. Only to himself.
But I cut my losses—I got out in time! I saved my own skin!
But Edward Granton had not been able to save his. The end had come swiftly, his company imploding under the weight of debts, of unrepayable loans, of foreclosures and inevitable financial collapse.
Nikos had been back in Athens then, and what had happened to Edward Granton after his company had gone under had not been Nikos’s concern.
Let alone what had happened to his daughter.
So what did happen to her?
Impatiently, he brushed the question aside. Sure, Edward Granton would have had to cut back, would doubtless have taken some face-saving action like opting for early retirement, probably somewhere like Spain. But he was no financial fool, despite having over-extended his company during the recession. He’d have had assets protected from the corporate balance sheet, assets that he could adequately live on, even though it would have meant retrenching.
But maybe Sophie—cosseted as she was by her doting father—hadn’t wanted to retrench. Maybe she’d gone on spending money they just didn’t have. And maybe now the credit card bills had arrived she thought she’d come up with an easy way to make money to pay them off.
Perhaps she’d really thought that all she had to do was keep a rich man company for the evening and he’d pay for the privilege, not expect anything else in return! A derisive snort broke from Nikos. Well, she’d found out tonight that there was no such thing as easy money! Not that it should have taken more than five minutes with Cosmo to suss that he was in the market for sex, and anything else was just an appetiser. His eyes alone, never mind his wandering hands, should have told her that Cosmo had fully intended her to end up horizontal….
But it was a mistake to let that thought even have house room. Immediately, disastrously, Nikos saw an image from the past flare in his mind…
Sophie, her beauty revealed to him in all its incandescent perfection! Her pearled skin, hair like silk, spread on the pillow like a banner as he took her in his aching arms…
No! With savage rage, he forced the memory out of his head. Tearing it from him as he had once torn Sophie’s pleading hands.
His face hardened. Sophie had wanted only one thing from him then, disguise it as she might. The same as she wanted now.
Money. Nothing but money.
Roughly knocking back the last of his whisky, he snapped the glass down on the cabinet.
Enough! He had done with Sophie Granton—she was nothing to him, not any more. And that was all he had to remember!
Face set, he headed for the en suite bathroom, and bed.
CHAPTER FOUR
SOPHIE fumbled with the capsule contained in its silver foil, and managed to extract it. Then with shaking hands, she got it into her mouth and rinsed it down with water from a cracked mug. She wanted the painkiller to work instantly, but knew she would have to wait before the tight, hot pounding in her head would ease and bring relief. If only it could bring a cessation of memory! If only it could erase everything from the night before—everything!
