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‘You do?’ He raised an eyebrow, as if he was reading her mind—which, to be fair, he probably was.
‘You were kind to me when I told you about my father,’ she said, as evenly as she could.
‘You were upset.’ His voice was cool. ‘I did what any normal person would do.’
She stared at him, confused. There was a tension around his mouth that hadn’t been there before, but why? It was almost as if she had accused him of something bad.
‘What about this...us?’ she said quietly. ‘There’s not many sons who would do what you’re doing for their father?’
‘And you think that makes me a good person?’
Before she could reply he shifted against her, his mouth curling into something that was not quite a smile. ‘I’m flattered I’ve gone up in your estimation. But as far as the ball goes our sponsorship is good for business. Good for the charities. It’s a fun evening. Everyone’s happy.’
Except he didn’t sound happy. The tension had transferred to his voice. Was it something to do with the ball? Did his father expect him to attend? Was he not going because of her?
‘It sounds amazing. A once-in-a-lifetime experience.’
His gaze sharpened on her face. ‘Are you saying you want to go?’
Was she? Three days ago, the idea would have terrified her. But now it didn’t seem so scary. There was a truth to their relationship now...even if it wasn’t the whole truth and nothing but the truth. And she wanted to take that tension from Achileas’s body.
‘Maybe,’ she said, trying to keep her voice light.
‘Really? It’s just that the other day you said we should wait a little. Get our story straight.’
‘That was then. Things are different now. We know each other better.’
His pupils flared. ‘Yes, we do,’ he said softly, and the dark shimmer in his voice reached inside her and prised her open.
Trying to ignore the maddening heat storming through her body, she said, ‘And it would be a good place to be seen together in public.’
He nodded, and then his eyes narrowed, fixing on something past her shoulder. She shifted in his arms. Out at sea, yet another ship had appeared. It was moving slowly, like some oversized prehistoric monster, and beside it even the huge superyachts looked as tiny and insubstantial as dinghies.
‘That is the biggest boat I’ve ever seen.’
‘They can be bigger. That one, The Tiphys, is about the length of two football pitches—two hundred and sixty metres, to be precise.’
She blinked. ‘How on earth do you know that?’
Was there some kind of marine equivalent of trainspotting? Although it didn’t seem likely it would be Achileas’s cup of tea.
Next to her, Achileas was silent. Then, ‘See that logo on the bow? That’s an Alexios ship. It’s owned by Andreas Alexios.’
She had heard the name. Anyone not living under a rock had heard of the Alexios Shipping Group. Alexios was a name like Onassis or Niarchos. A name that conjured up images of proud, dark-eyed men standing on the decks of their shimmering oversized yachts, dictating the mood of the Aegean like modern-day Poseidons.
‘Is he a friend of yours?’
He shook his head. ‘Not a friend, no.’ There was a short, taut pause, and then he added coolly, ‘He’s my father.’
His father.She stared at him in confusion. His father was that Andreas. Why, then, was he not Achileas Alexios?
Beside her, Achileas was still, but there was a kind of anticipatory tension vibrating in the air, like in that moment before the magician pulls a rabbit from a hat. Glancing up at his proud profile, she knew why he had not taken his father’s name. Achileas was exactly the kind of man who would want to prove himself, want his success to be his own and not the result of any nepotistic bias.
‘He must be very proud of you,’ she said softly. ‘For achieving so much without making use of his name.’ Lifting her chin, she smiled a little shyly. ‘Actually, I changed my name too.’
‘You did?’
She felt his arms tighten around her, felt the first ripple of longing as he drew her closer. ‘Well, maybe not changed. Just shortened. My real name is Josephine, but no one’s ever called me that. Except the vicar when he christened me.’
‘It’s a beautiful name. You probably just needed time to grow into it.’
Her heart jumped as he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
‘And now you have. So, do you want to come to the ball with me, Josephine?’
The heat in his voice as he said her name shuddered through her, kicking up sparks. ‘Yes,’ she said hoarsely.
‘Then I’ll go and make a few calls.’ Reaching out, he took hold of her shirt, pinching the fabric between his fingers to pull her against him. ‘First, though, I’m going to need this back.’
He undid the top button, then the next one down, his mouth finding hers as the shirt slid from her shoulders, and then he was walking her backwards into the bedroom towards the bed...
