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I love you.
It was one of those strange things about human nature that both those things could be true at exactly the same time.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘YOU’RETOGOup to the Presidential Suite right away, Mia.’
Mia stared at her line manager in dismay, wondering why she had gone to all the trouble of seeking her out in the staff canteen at this time of day, especially as she was officially off duty. Kirstie McLellan might be excellent at her job, but sometimes she forgot people were human. Or that they got hungry.
She glanced down at her toasted teacake. ‘Erm, have I got time to eat this?’
‘Not really. You’ll have plenty of time for snacking later,’ said Kirstie smoothly.
‘But it’s my—’
‘There’s a top-secret VIP guest expected within the hour,’ Kirstie explained, seemingly unabashed by Mia’s objections, or the rapidly cooling bun. ‘And Mr Constantinides’s office has just sent an urgent message down. Red carpet alert! We need to ensure that everything is as it should be, so I’d like you to give the entire suite the benefit of your expert eye.’
‘Okay,’ agreed Mia, trying to ignore the loud rumble of her stomach. It was ironic really, because she’d barely been able to eat a thing since she’d arrived back in England last week and had only just started to get her appetite back. All she wanted right now was to fill her face with some comfort food, in the wan hope that it might help alleviate some of the numbness which had refused to leave her, ever since she’d left Greece, and Theo. It was either that or going to her room to bury herself underneath the duvet and howl her heart out.
But she had her professional reputation to think of and the hotel had always been so kind and accommodating towards her, giving her the leave of absence she’d needed to visit her grandfather, which had been less than two weeks in the end. She could always add it to her overtime. And besides, nobody ever said no to Zac Constantinides, the big boss. With one last, longing look at her plate she took the staff lift to the top floor of the Granchester where, after checking the corridor outside for any dust or spillages—none found—Mia quietly let herself into the yawning expanse of the Presidential Suite.
The compact kitchen was gleaming, there was vintage champagne on ice and a mass of perfumed pink roses dazzled at the centre of the shiny dining table. So far, so good. It must be someone very important for the big boss to take a personal interest, she thought as she surveyed the pristine surface of the bed in the master bedroom and gave one of the velvet cushions an unnecessary tug.
She was just walking into the main reception room, with its famous view over London’s Hyde Park, when Mia got the distinct sense that she wasn’t alone. A sense which was confirmed when she saw the powerful body silhouetted against the huge windows.
She narrowed her eyes as a sharp arrow pierced her heart.
It couldn’t be.
But it was.
Darkly beautiful and statue-still, Theo Aeton was standing and surveying her with an expression she couldn’t work out—but what else was new?
How cruel life could be sometimes, she thought bitterly. Wasn’t it enough that she was constantly haunted by him in her dreams? Surely she hadn’t started to conjure him up in her daily life, too? She closed her eyes, but when she opened them again, he was still there. So he wasn’t a hallucination at all, but real. Gloriously and vibrantly real.
The sharp arrow imbedded itself more deeply into her heart, penetrating through the terrible numbness which had descended on her like a grey cloud these past few days.
‘No,’ she said, her voice a reedy whisper, hating the instant prickle to her breasts as she looked at him.
He nodded, his hair gleaming like rich tar against the pale English light. ‘Yes.’
She sought words to say. Something which wouldn’t condemn her. She didn’t want to tell him how much she missed him. Or beg him to hold her, or kiss her, or stroke his fingers through her curls, no matter how much she wanted him to do all those things, and more. She needed him to leave her alone to lick her wounds and recover, just as Tycheros had done in those early days when she’d found him.
‘Go away,’ she said huskily. ‘Haven’t we said everything that needs to be said?’ But then she remembered how dismissive he had been with her on their last evening together and she screwed up her face into a belligerent scowl. ‘And what are you even doing here, in my hotel?’
‘I figured that booking out the suite was the most effective way of seeing you,’ he said. ‘Seeing as how you’ve blocked my number and won’t answer any of my emails.’
‘You could have always ambushed my room again!’ she declared sarcastically. ‘Don’t tell me—you and Zac Constantinides are in some secret billionaires’ club, where rich men are prepared to do each otherfavours, should the need arise?’
‘Something like that.’
‘That’s outrageous,’ she said automatically.
‘I’m afraid that’s how life works.’
‘Your life, maybe. Not mine.’ But she was feeling surprisingly calm, considering that her heart was banging like a drum beneath her pink polyester uniform. Had he told Zac she was his wife? She wondered frantically if that particular snippet of gossip would spread through the hotel like wildfire. Well, she wasn’t going to be his wife for much longer, came her next grim thought. ‘Is this about the divorce?’
‘No, Mia. It’s not about the divorce.’
