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Dimitri relaxed, letting her take him off down the hall, leaving Castor with Red Riding Hood in her cloak.
She was still very pale, staring up at him with those huge eyes. And he was conscious that his fury was in no way satisfied now Dimitri had been dealt with. In fact, for some reason he couldn’t quite pinpoint, he was even angrier than he’d been a moment ago.
She wasn’t one of his guests, which meant she’d somehow sneaked in. And that was dangerous not only for her, but for him as well. Especially if anything happened to her. He had an agreement with local law enforcement that they would leave his parties alone in return for the information he passed on, but if something happened to an innocent, even they wouldn’t be able to ignore it. And that would put at risk everything he’d spent the last ten years working for.
‘I—I—’ she began.
‘As for you.’ Castor took her arm in an iron grip. ‘You’re coming with me.’
He didn’t want to do this publicly. He would take her into his private study, where he could find out exactly who she was and what she was doing here, and then ensure she’d never make such a foolish mistake again.
She stiffened as he urged her down the hallway, but she was no match for his strength and was soon hurrying along beside him, her cloak fluttering out behind her.
His study wasn’t far and it had a lock so no curious guests could blunder in.
He paused outside, pressed his finger to the fingerprint pad and heard the click as the door unlocked. Then he ushered her inside and shut the door behind them.
It was a pleasant room, not that he stayed in this house often since he spent most of his time in Europe. But he liked the windows that looked out over the garden rather than the sea. It had the same white walls; however, most of these were lined with sleek modern shelving housing the many books he liked to read. There were comfortable couches scattered around, plus a few roomy armchairs, and the lighting was all recessed and discreet.
The woman had pulled away to stand in the middle of the room, her cloak wrapped tightly around her, big eyes peering at him from the depths of her hood.
He couldn’t tell what kind of figure she had, but she had an interesting face. Sharp chin, sharp nose, but the most gorgeously full mouth.
She looked scared so he put his hands in his pockets, keeping his posture loose and unthreatening, since although he was angry and determined to give her a piece of his mind, he wasn’t going to hurt her.
That was the very last thing in the world he’d do.
‘Sweetheart,’ he said coolly. ‘You shouldn’t be here.’
She gazed at him warily, as if he was a rabid dog who might attack at any moment. ‘I—I—I know. I wasn’t invited.’ Her voice was low, husky, and sent the most disturbing shiver of sexual awareness down his spine.
How inconvenient. Still, it wasn’t an issue. He had Esme for tonight and she was always up for anything.
‘No, of course you weren’t invited. I know everyone on that guest list and you weren’t on it. So tell me, who are you and what the hell are you doing in my house?’
She stared at him for a moment, then squared her shoulders as if bracing herself for a distasteful task and took a step towards him.
‘Actually,’ she said. ‘I’m here to make you an offer.’
It wasn’t unusual. Lots of people made him offers.
Castor raised an eyebrow. ‘You gatecrashed my party to make me an offer? What kind of offer?’
‘I’d like to offer you...’ She lifted her chin as if she was facing down a firing squad, then dramatically threw off the cloak. ‘My virginity.’
CHAPTER TWO
SURPRISERIPPLEDOVERCastor Xenakis’s phenomenally handsome face, and Glory might have found that satisfying if she hadn’t been so utterly terrified.
First that awful man putting his hands on her and then the man she’d been obsessing about for months grabbing her arm and forcing her down a hallway into this room.
Now her heart was nearly coming out of her chest and she didn’t know why she’d thrown off her cloak. Hadn’t she decided she wasn’t going through with this stupid plan?
It had only seemed as if now she was here, now she’d finally got him alone, she had to do it, because she didn’t want to be a coward. Even if she had no hope of him ever accepting her offer.
A part of her even hoped he’d refuse. Mainly because Castor Xenakis as a picture in a magazine was a whole lot easier to deal with than Castor Xenakis in the flesh, standing right in front of her.
He was devastating. That was the only word for it. And he terrified her, though she wasn’t sure why.
