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‘Sounds good,’ she said, and hooked her hand over his sleeve. ‘Lead me to the food!’
Long lashes swept over dark, dark eyes, not quite hiding the glint within. ‘I am yours to command,’ Nikos murmured, and started to escort her forward.
Mel cocked her head at him. ‘You might live to regret that rash offer,’ she riposted, a smile audible in her voice.
Deep within the dark eyes that glint came again. ‘I regret nothing about you whatsoever, Mel, I do assure you,’ was his murmured answer.
She gave a low laugh and felt in excellent humour, for tonight was turning out to be even more enjoyable than she’d hoped it would be—and it wasn’t because of the fancy venue and the chance to dress up to the nines, much as she appreciated both of those factors.
No, it was the man at her side who was giving her that buzz—as if she’d already drunk a glass of champagne and it was fizzing in her veins. The man whose strong arm was beneath her lightly resting hand, whose tall figure was at her side, and whose long-lashed, dark glinting glance was making her heart beat that enticingly bit faster...
Careful! a voice in her head was whispering, low, but urgent. You’re only with him for a single evening—remember that! So enjoy the next few hours, enjoy Nikos Parakis—his gorgeous looks, the sparky fun you’re having with him—then walk away and put it in the memory box.
She heard the voice—listened to it and knew it was telling her the truth. But as she walked out of the bar on Nikos Parakis’s arm she could still feel her heart beating just that bit faster than it had ever done before...
CHAPTER FOUR
‘OH, MY WORD!’ Mel’s exclamation was instantaneous and audible.
‘Impressive, isn’t it?’ murmured Nikos.
‘And then some.’
Mel was gazing around her at the ballroom of the hotel, now filling up with other guests taking their places for the evening. The room was quite a sight, its opulent fin de siècle Edwardian decor of gilding and gold satin drapery enhanced tonight by an array of damask-covered tables, each adorned with its own candelabrum and floral arrangement, as well as the glitter of crystal and silver.
Nikos led her forward. It felt good to have her on his arm. Good for multiple reasons. The main one, he reminded himself, was that having a fantastic-looking female on his arm was exactly what he’d planned for this evening to keep Fiona Pellingham at bay. But he was also increasingly aware, with every minute he was spending in Mel’s company, that even without the other woman’s presence here tonight, he would still want Mel with him.
Thee mou, what man wouldn’t want this golden-haired goddess at his side? What man wouldn’t desire her...?
‘I think that’s our table—just over there,’ he murmured, pulling his thoughts to heel, indicating their places with a slight nod.
As they approached he realised that one of the several guests already seated was the woman whose presence had inspired him to make his choice of partner for this evening. Fiona Pellingham had turned her dark brunette head towards him and was levelling her dusky gaze at him with an intensity that made him even more glad of Mel at his side.
‘That’s her, isn’t it?’ he heard Mel say out of the corner of her mouth in a low voice. ‘The pesky female who’s got the unrequited hots for you?’
‘Alas, yes,’ Nikos replied. ‘And it would seem,’ he went on, his voice low, too, ‘that she has taken exception to your presence.’
Fiona’s gaze was, indeed, gimlet-eyed, and Nikos could see that his arrival with Mel on his arm was not what the other woman had wanted to see.
‘What a pity,’ Mel returned.
There was a sweet acidity in her voice now, and Nikos glanced at her.
‘Don’t let her put you down.’ he said, with sudden warning in his voice.
A shaft of concern went through him. Fiona Pellingham was a high-flying career professional in a top job—and she hadn’t got there by being sweetness and light to others...especially to other women.
But his concern was unnecessary.
‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ Mel assured him sweetly, and Nikos was instantly reminded of just how unputdownable Mel could be. He should know!
As they joined their table the other men present got to their feet and Nikos greeted them. He knew one or two professionally, and Fiona introduced the others. His greeting to Fiona was urbane—and hers, he noted observantly, was unruffled: a manner that did not go with the assessing expression in her eyes when they turned to the fabulous blonde beauty on Nikos’s arm as he introduced his dinner partner.
