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It was deliberate baiting—and unwise, considering he wanted her to accept his invitation for the evening, but he couldn’t resist the enjoyment of sparring with her and it got him his reward. That coruscating sapphire flash of her eyes—making her beautiful eyes even more outstanding.
‘Well, they didn’t improve my mood,’ she snapped back. ‘And you standing there doesn’t either. So if that’s all you came here to say, then consider it said.’
‘It isn’t,’ said Nikos. His expression changed as he abandoned the sparring and became suddenly more businesslike. ‘I have an invitation to put to you.’
For a moment she looked stupefied. Then, hard on the heels of that, deeply suspicious. ‘What?’
‘I would like,’ Nikos informed her, ‘to invite you to a charity gala this Friday night.’
‘What?’ The word came again, and an even more stupefied look.
‘Allow me to elaborate,’ said Nikos, and proceeded to do so.
His veiled eyes were watching for her reaction. Despite her overt hostility he could see that she was listening. Could see, too, that she was trying not to look at him. Trying to keep her eyes blank.
Trying—and failing.
She’s aware of me, responsive to me—she’s fighting it, but it’s there all the same.
It flickered like electricity between them as he went on.
‘I find,’ he told her, keeping his tone bland and neutral, so as not to set her hackles rising again, ‘that at short notice I am without a “plus one” for this Friday evening—a charity gala to which I am committed.’ He looked at her straight on. ‘Therefore I would be highly gratified if you would agree to be that “plus one” for the occasion. I’m sure you would find it enjoyable—it’s at the Viscari St James Hotel, which I hope you will agree is a memorable venue.’
He paused minutely, then allowed his mouth to indent into a swift smile.
‘Please say you’ll come.’
Her expression was a study, and he enjoyed watching it. Stupefaction mixed with deep, deep suspicion. And even deeper scepticism.
‘And of course, Mr Parakis, you have absolutely no one else you could possibly invite except a complete stranger—someone you told to her face you’d sack if she were unfortunate enough to be one of your hapless minions!’ she finally shot at him, her head going back and her eyes sparking.
He was unfazed. ‘Indeed,’ he replied shamelessly. ‘So, if you would be kind enough to take pity on my predicament and help me in my hour of need, my gratitude would know no bounds...’
A very unladylike snort escaped her. ‘Yeah, right,’ she managed to say derisively.
‘It’s quite true,’ he answered limpidly. ‘I would be extremely grateful.’
‘And I’d be a complete mug to believe you,’ she shot back.
Nikos’s expression changed again. ‘Why? What is the problem here for you?’ His eyes rested on her, conveying a message older than time. ‘Do you not know how extraordinarily beautiful you are? How any man would be privileged to have you at his side—?’
He saw the colour run out over her sculpted cheekbones. Saw her swallow.
‘Will you not let me invite you?’ he said again. There was the slightest husk in his voice. It was there without his volition.
Mixed emotions crossed her face. ‘No,’ she said finally—emphatically.
His eyebrows rose. ‘Why not?’ he asked outright.
Hers snapped together. ‘Because I don’t like you—that’s why!’
He gave a half-laugh, discovering he was enjoying her bluntness. ‘We got off to a bad start—I admit that freely. I was hungry and short-tempered, and you gave me a hard time and I resented it.’
‘You spoke to me like I was beneath you,’ she shot at him. ‘And you looked down your nose at Joe—wouldn’t give him a penny even though you’re obviously rolling in it!’ She cast a pointed look at him. ‘Your wallet was stuffed with fifties!’
‘Did you expect me to hand a fifty over to him?’ he protested. ‘And for your information I gave him a handful of all those pound coins you dumped on me.’
Mel’s expression changed. ‘What? Oh, God, he’ll have just gone off and spent it on booze.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Did you really give him money?’
‘Ask him next time he comes in for a free sandwich,’ said Nikos drily. ‘So...’ his voice changed ‘...are you going to take pity on me and accept my invitation?’
She was wavering—he could tell that with every male instinct. She wants to accept, but her pride is holding her back.
