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‘You expect me to get into bed with you when you are in bed with Baros’s daughter, that lying snake... He’s been trying for years get his hands on my company.’
She watched as Ezio paused, no doubt swallowing an acid rejoinder on the tip of his tongue, and pressed a row of long fingers to his temple.
‘Athena and I had a casual relationship several years ago.’
The muscle that was clenching and unclenching beside his mouth as he formed the words through bared white teeth held an unwilling fascination for Tilda, who knew how much the words must cost him.
She had learnt pretty soon after she’d come to work for him, first as an assistant to his assistant and then as his PA, that he never explained himself to anyone, and she could only imagine what being obliged to do so now must be doing to him.
Welcome to the real world, she thought, unable to summon a shred of sympathy for his dilemma in her present mindset. Ezio didn’t realise how lucky he was... Oh, not because of his wealth or power—she didn’t envy him that—but he didn’t seem to possess a shred of self-doubt. He didn’t pretend to believe in himself, he actually did.
‘Baros is not involved, Saul, and never has been.’ Nothing in Ezio’s expressionless delivery suggested that he was starting to have doubts on this score himself.
Given the timing and the escalation, how could he discount the possibility that George Baros, Athena’s father, was behind this somehow? Hell, the two old men had been playing a grudge match for the past fifty years...they certainly kept the animosity fresh.
Was Athena helping her father out using this non-romance as a way of killing off a deal that would benefit her father’s old enemy?
Along with the most incredible legs, Athena did possess a rather twisted sense of humour, and no discernible conscience. That had not bothered him any more than the fact that he and the guy who’d replaced him in her bed had overlapped by several weeks... There had been no drama, no big romance, they had just drifted apart.
‘Saul, I can—’ The sound of the phone being slammed down in some distant office echoed around the silent room.
Tilda held her breath and fought the craziest urge to laugh... Someone had hung up on Ezio! A wicked part of her wanted to applaud.
The silence stretched until Ezio broke it by stringing together a volley of curses in his native tongue, with a few random languages thrown in.
‘What does she hope to achieve by this?’
He dragged a hand through the dark hair that sprang from his broad, bronzed brow, and Tilda watched his eyes narrow to black glass slits, before he turned and adopted his previous pose, feet apart, rocking on his heels, spine straight, staring out at the panorama of the city far below.
This was the cue for Tilda to get on with something, but she wasn’t in the mood to be tuned out.
Not today!
She was not in the mood to be dismissed.
She felt the outrage that she hadn’t known was there tighten in her chest. She hadn’t been lateoncein four years, and he hadn’t even asked if there was a problem. But then it was always about Ezio, she thought, feeding the heated core of resentment.
‘You seriously don’t know why she’s doing this?’
He spun back, pinning her with an incredulous, laser-like stare.
She didn’t slink away into a corner. Instead she met his stare with one of her own, though it was hard to trade glares when her eyes were hidden behind the tinted lenses.
‘Just thought you might like my input.’ He was great at delivering sarcastic jabs, but she doubted he’d even recognise it when he was on the receiving end of one.
‘Athena and I moved on two years ago.’ About to turn away again, he paused when she spoke.
‘Youmoved on...it’s not actually the same thing.’ Her disproval of his attitude to women was genuine; her sisterly solidarity with the other woman was more forced. On the handful of occasions she had encountered Athena Baros, the tall blonde had acted as though she’d been invisible. Her sweetness was reserved for people who were of use to her.
Tilda shrugged and bit back the apology on the tip of her tongue, reminding herself that, as a soon-to-be ex-employee, she was no longer obliged to polish his ego or say the right thing. ‘Maybe she’s trying to make you notice she’s still alive,’ she mused, half to herself, thinking,good luck with that. ‘Just a thought,’ she added, producing a faint half-smile.
His dark brows were knitted in a perplexed weave as his stare travelled the length of her petite, slim figure, moving from her face to her feet and back again as though he was seeing her for the first time.
‘Athena does not connect sex with her emotions...’ He realised that he had just come dangerously close to excusing himself to his PA, who was...late, which was a first, and...
If he’d been asked to describe Matilda Raven in one word, it would have been neat. She did not look neat, she looked...different, he decided, noting the heavy chunk of rich brown hair that fell against one cheek, the rest either tumbling down her back or stuck down the collar of a padded jacket that was fastened on the wrong buttons.
‘You’re late and...what the hell are you wearing?’ He dismissed his own question without waiting for a response. What his PA chose to wear was of minor importance.
