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The one who made extravagant gifts to his lovers.
It was then that her idea was born. Her mad, wild and very un-Glory-like idea.
There was no guarantee he’d accept her offer, and why would he when he had a legion of A-list Hollywood stars, supermodels and even royalty at his beck and call? Then again, he might be in the market for novelty, for something different, and Glory could safely say that shewasdifferent. At least for him. She wasn’t beautiful, but she’d been told on a number of occasions—or at least shouted at by men—that she had a great body. But mainly, she was a total virgin. She hadn’t even been kissed before. Men got off on that, or so she’d heard, and she was hoping Castor Xenakis would get off on it.
And if he doesn’t, Annabel won’t get a chance at having a baby.
That was true. And she wouldn’t get her chance at a night with him either, which was disappointing.
She had to be rid of this obsession. How would she ever find someone in her own league if she kept thinking about a man normally so far beyond her reach he might as well have been on the moon?
Whatever, standing here feeling sick with nerves wasn’t going to help with either of those two things.
First, she had to find him.
Steeling herself, Glory turned around.
The room was huge, running the entire width of the house. One wall was entirely floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the beach. Low, white leather modular couches were scattered everywhere, along with low glass tables, and sleek bookshelves devoid of actual books. Huge artworks—mostly abstract—adorned the white walls, and a number of other sculptural artworks stood on tables or on the white carpet of the floor.
The effect was one of stark luxury but Glory, who was fond of clutter, found it rather soulless.
People were scattered around the room, the women dressed in couture cocktail dresses and statement jewellery, the men in designer suits. She thought she might recognise some of the guests since it was definitely a place for the rich and famous, but so far she hadn’t.
There were still laughter and lots of conversation, the music thumping, but she could see that there was a couple in the corner who were...
Oh. Right.
Glory moved quickly out of the room, her heart beating very fast, and into the soaring atrium-style entranceway. Massive globes of frosted glass hung suspended from the ceiling, looking like planets floating in space.
There were also people out here, though mostly clothed, thank God.
Glory wished she had the courage to ask one of them where Castor Xenakis was, but she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. They might realise she hadn’t been invited—she’d snuck in with a group of people dressed in burlesque costumes—and might decide to have her kicked out since it was clear she didn’t belong here.
And she really didn’t. The nudity, the alcohol, the luxury setting, the crowds of people and the uninhibited atmosphere were all making her extremely uncomfortable. She didn’t do parties, never had, not even as a teenager. She’d been too busy taking care of Annabel after her breast cancer diagnosis, and there hadn’t been time for any of that kind of thing even if she’d wanted to.
Not that she wanted to. Her life was quiet and steady and predictable, and that’s just how she preferred it.
Which makes being here a really dumb idea.
Probably. But that IVF wasn’t going to pay for itself and she was here now, and so she at least had to try.
Skirting a group of sketchy-looking men who were talking seriously and radiating ‘do not disturb’ vibes, Glory found another long hallway and started down it.
Perhaps Xenakis had withdrawn from the main party and was in another room. He could be outside, of course, somewhere in the lush, tropical-style garden that surrounded the house, but she wanted to make sure he wasn’t inside first before she braved whatever was going on outside.
Or perhaps she’d missed him? But no, he wasn’t like her. He wasn’t a man who would ever fade into the background and remain unnoticed.
Castor Xenakis couldn’t remain unnoticed even if he tried.
He was phenomenally handsome and even in the photos Glory had pored over she’d been able to tell that he possessed the kind of charisma that drew people to him, that commanded attention simply by its very existence.
And you’re hoping a man like that will choose you for the night? Are you actually insane?
Maybe. But as she’d sat reading about him in that magazine and then heard his two staff members chatting about the upcoming party, well...it had seemed like fate.
The throb of the party music was a little less down this corridor, but was now joined by the sound of a piano, which was odd.
She followed the sound, the notes cascading through the hallway, echoing off the hardwood floors and the white stone walls.
