AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She didn’t mean to fall asleep. She was just tired. And she only intended to close her eyes for a couple of moments. So it was very confusing when a deep, male voice said her name softly and she jolted awake, realising that view outside wasn’t golden any more but dark, the night sky beyond glittering with stars.
Glory inhaled sharply and turned her head to find Castor standing beside the window seat, looking down at her, his expression unreadable.
‘You certainly know how to hide.’ There was a faint edge in his voice. ‘I’ve spent the last fifteen minutes searching everywhere for you.’
Heavy-headed with sleep, Glory pushed herself up from the cushions. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said thickly. ‘I didn’t mean to go to sleep.’
He made a tutting sound and reached out, gently pulling away some strands of hair that had been apparently stuck to her cheek. ‘Jet lag. Happens to the best of us.’
The intimacy of the movement made her freeze in place, her breath catching, and she found herself staring into his eyes as something deep in them flared into life.
Very slowly, he reached out again, the tips of his fingers brushing her cheek, making everything inside her shiver.
All remaining sleep fled. She felt alive and awake, as if she was standing on the edge of a cliff caught between wanting to hurl herself over it or stay on the safety of her ledge.
For a long moment they stared at each other. Then abruptly he clenched his hand into a fist, the fierce glitter in his eyes extinguished. ‘Come,mikri alepou.’ He turned in the direction of the doorway, his voice casual, betraying nothing. ‘Dinner is on the lower terrace and we have some arrangements to discuss.’
Glory tried to will her heartbeat to slow down, her skin tingling from where he’d touched her. Why had he done that? Clearly it hadn’t been something he’d enjoyed since he’d then turned away as if she was the one who’d burned him. Like he had the night he’d kissed her.
Then again, had that been heat glittering momentarily in his eyes?
Ah, but she couldn’t think about that. If he’d wanted to kiss her again, he would have done so already and he hadn’t.
You want him to.
Glory swallowed and ignored that particular thought, just as she ignored the unmistakable lurch of disappointment that followed. Because she had no reason to be disappointed. He hadn’t promised her anything but Annabel’s IVF treatment and paying off their debt, and a two-week luxury vacation, and that’s all.
Pleasant fantasies of kisses and maybe more weren’t part of it and neither was wishful thinking.
Sliding off the window seat, she followed him.
The lower terrace was wide, with potted shrubs and various trees in tubs. There was also a long, rustic wooden table with rustic dining chairs and bright cushions on each seat. Food had been laid out—olives and fresh bread, cold meats and salad—along with a bottle of wine and a tall jug full of iced orange juice. Numerous candles in white stone holders had been lit, casting a diffuse and flickering light over the entire terrace.
It looked like a movie set or a scene out of someone else’s life. Definitely not her life.
Castor moved over to the table and pulled out a chair, indicating she should sit.
She blushed as she sat down, very conscious of him standing behind her, tall and powerful and very, very warm.
‘That’s gentlemanly of you,’ she said sincerely. ‘For a notorious playboy, I mean.’
Castor pushed her chair in, then moved around the table to sit opposite her, giving her a fleeting glance as he did so. One of those practised smiles turned his mouth. ‘I try.’ His tone was casual as he reached for a napkin and flicked it over his lap.
‘You don’t have to do that,’ she said without thinking. ‘You don’t have to pretend. Not with me. Not now I know the truth.’
He went still, his gaze flickering gold beneath his lashes. ‘Pretend? Pretend what?’
Should you really have said that?
Why did she keep doing that? Why did she keep talking to him as if she knew him when she didn’t? He might have told her his secret on the jet, but only because he wanted her to know what was at stake. It wasn’t because he wanted to confide in her specifically. And then she’d pestered him for answers...
She was presuming too much on too little acquaintance.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said quickly. ‘I shouldn’t have said it.’
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze narrowing, his expression opaque. ‘But you did say it. So please continue.’
She didn’t want to continue, but she also didn’t want to argue, so she picked up her own napkin and fussed with it. ‘Oh, you know, pretend to smile. Pretend to be charming. Pretend to be the playboy everyone thinks you are.’
