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‘But if you know how it feels then why did you contact HR?’
‘I saw a potential problem. I stepped in to fix it. It’s what I do.’ After his father had slashed their lives into a million useless pieces, seventeen-year-old Ari had assumed the role of protector. Protecting his mother and his younger brothers from the press intrusion after Alexandrou Pantelides’s sleazy dealings and philandering lifestyle had come to light had, overnight, become his number-one priority.
His brothers, after severely rocky years, had grown into stable, intensely successful individuals. And his mother had eventually found peace. He’d believed his family was safe...
Until fate had shown him otherwise...
Theos, this was too much! Resentment that he’d inadvertently taken a trip down memory lane yet again coiled through him.
Sucking in a deep breath, he faced Perla. ‘You’ve aired your grievance. I’ve listened. Now don’t you have work to be getting on with?’
The harshness of his voice stung. ‘It’s my day off, but Ari—’
He let his gaze slide down her body, ignoring the fire sizzling through his veins. ‘And was this what you meant when you suggested staying away from each other? Because this plan—’ he indicated her skimpily clad form ‘—is a poor attempt at removing temptation from both our paths.’
‘I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking... I just reacted—’
‘Well, make a better judgement call next time!’
She flinched as if he’d struck her. But he couldn’t regret his tone because he was drowning in hell. He’d almost opened up about secrets he shared with no one. And the temptation to unburden had been great. But not to her. Not to the woman whose husband had caused the media to dredge up all the bitterness and humiliation only a few short months ago.
He tightened his jaw and watched, fascinated, as she pulled herself together with a grace and dignity he found curiously admirable.
Crossing her arms round her middle, she glared at him. ‘We’re weak when it comes to each other. Striking out at me for your weakness is cowardly and beneath you. Stop it. Believe me, I can bite back.’
He felt a wash of heat surge up his cheekbones. ‘You need to leave. Now. Before I do something we’ll both regret.’
‘Ari—’
‘A word to the wise. No man likes being told he’s weak; it can be misconstrued as a challenge. Leave. Now, Perla, before I invite you to honour your promise of biting me.’
Eyes wide, she backed quickly towards the door. ‘We’ll need to find a way of working together eventually, Ari.’
‘Let’s discuss it further when you’re not wearing a whisper-thin sarong and a clinging bikini that’s just begging to be ripped off.’
* * *
Perla tried not to count the ways things had gone spectacularly wrong as she left Ari’s penthouse. First her headlong flight from the swimming pool, bristling with intense irritation and hurt, had been ill-timed. She should’ve waited to cool down before confronting him.
And what, in goodness’ name, had she been thinking, going into his presence wearing two tiny pieces of Lycra and an even flimsier sarong?
But of all the things slamming through her mind, it was the look on his face as he’d confessed that he’d walked in her shoes that struck deepest and made her kick herself for picking the wrong time to confront him.
His pain had been unmistakable. It was a different sort of pain from when he’d spoken about his wife but the dark torment had been present nonetheless.
Just how much had Arion Pantelides been through? And what the hell had his father done to him?
She reached her suite five floors below and immediately glanced at her laptop set atop the most exquisite console table. She dismissed the voice that whispered that knowledge was power. However foolish it might be, she couldn’t forget the relieved look on Ari’s face when she’d confessed to not knowing who his father was.
There’d been a point in time a few months ago when she would’ve given her right arm to remain oblivious to what Morgan had done.
If Ari craved privacy, she would grant him that.
As for his anger at the way she’d gone to him, dressed in only a bikini and a sarong... She glanced down and saw her body’s visible reaction to him. Her nipples were sharp points of fierce need and the way her chest rose and fell in her agitation...
God, no wonder he’d been angry!
She sank onto her bed, overwhelmed by her body’s turbulent response.
