Contracted For The Petrakis Heir

She waved a dismissive hand as if he interrupted her thought processes. ‘In Greek mythology he was a gorgeous young man, loved by Aphrodite and later killed by a boar.’ She bit her lip. ‘Or maybe by someone else, I can’t remember. But you’re not an Adonis.’

Adoni couldn’t keep his smile back. Had he ever met a woman who spoke to him like this? Not flattering and eager? ‘Not pretty enough?’

Again that disparaging wave of her hand. ‘No one could call you pretty.’ Her voice rang with certainty. ‘Handsome yes, but in a tough, dangerous sort of way. And those wicked eyebrows.’ She lifted a hand towards his face but stopped short of touching him. ‘More like Ares, god of war. Sexy but hard.’

The doors slid open behind her and she turned while Adoni was still trying to work out if he’d just been insulted or complimented.

‘Oh, this is nice.’ She drifted out of the lift into the foyer of his private suite, peering through the open door to the vast sitting room. ‘Do you think it would be okay for me to stay here for a bit till he’s gone?’

She moved forward, catching her shoe on the hand-knotted rug. Arms windmilling, she swayed till Adoni strode over and caught her upper arm. Her flesh was cool and smooth as silk.

‘Are you sure you only had two glasses of champagne?’

She sagged against him, one hand planted on his chest. ‘Absolutely. But I don’t think I’d better have any more. I feel a little...different.’ She blinked hazily up at him. ‘Do you think I’m behaving oddly?’

What he thought was that, beneath the harsh make-up and the unflattering dress, this young woman was surprisingly appealing. And potentially vulnerable.

‘Your friends will be missing you.’

She shook her head. ‘Not my friends and they won’t miss me. I don’t know anyone there, except Emily—she’s my cousin. And her parents. But they don’t have time for me. They never did. I’m just a ring-in because bridesmaid number seven had to bail at the last minute. Oh, and the toad—I know him.’ She grimaced. ‘But I don’t want to see him. Couldn’t I just sit quietly for a bit? I could sneak out and catch a train home but I do feel a bit wobbly.’

Adoni scrutinised her. Clearly she couldn’t make her way home alone yet. She was far too trusting to be let out without someone to keep an eye on her.

‘Very well. Stay here and I’ll make us coffee.’

‘Lovely! I never thought of Ares being so domesticated. I think of him being all passion and fire.’ She beamed again, that huge, beatific smile, and to his astonishment Adoni found himself smiling back. She was talking nonsense but her sense of humour appealed. As did the fact she didn’t walk on eggshells around him.

‘Do you think I could use the bathroom?’

‘Of course. Down the corridor on the left.’

The sitting room was empty when Adoni came back. He set the tray of coffee and sweet shortbread on a table, telling himself he’d been a fool to let her in. He didn’t know anything about her. Except that she couldn’t hold her champagne and did know a surprising amount of Greek mythology. He didn’t even know her name.

He stalked from the room, doubt rising. Where was she?

‘Are you okay?’ He pounded on the bathroom door.

‘Sorry. I won’t be long.’

‘Are you sick?’ She’d seemed tipsy, not drunk, but perhaps he was wrong.

‘No. Not sick. Just sticky.’

Sticky? Adoni scowled. That made no sense.

The door opened and his visitor stepped out. She looked completely different. Shorter for a start, her shoes dangling from her hand.

‘I used the shower. I feel much better now.’ She stepped out into the corridor and tripped over the hem of her long dress, straight into his arms. Automatically Adoni caught her, but not before her soft breasts collided with his torso and her slim frame came to rest against him.

‘Oops. Sorry.’ She pulled back and smiled vaguely. ‘This dress is too long. It was made for someone else.’

‘Someone wearing shoes,’ he murmured, trying to shove the thought of her lithe body from his mind.

‘Ah.’ She nodded. ‘That explains it.’ She sniffed. ‘Is that coffee I smell?’ Before he could answer she lifted her trailing skirt so high he caught a tantalising amount of shapely, bare legs before she turned and, hand on the wall, made her way to the sitting room.

Adoni took his time following. He’d been rocked by his response to the woman who’d emerged from the guest bathroom. Gone were the thick make-up and fake lashes. Without them he discovered a clear peaches and cream complexion that suited those dark blue eyes. Then there was a heart-shaped face and a pink mouth that looked too much like a cupid’s bow for comfort.

Gone too was the elaborately curled and rigid hairstyle, threaded with mustard-yellow ribbon. Instead her dark hair lay straight and long around her shoulders. It was still wet, dripping at the ends, making the bodice of her dress water-stained and clingy.

He swallowed as he watched her turn and sink abruptly onto the sofa, the lamplight caressing the unexpectedly sweet tilt of her breast beneath the wet fabric. Heat stirred in his groin at the astounding sexual allure of her gentle curves and bare face.

Adoni frowned. His sex drive was healthy but such an instant, urgent response was rare. Especially as she wasn’t even trying to attract him.

Was she?

He’d met some devious women in his time, going to extraordinary lengths to snare him, but instinct told him this one was exactly what she seemed.

‘What’s your name?’ His voice emerged thick and abrupt but she didn’t seem to notice.

‘Alice. Alice Trehearn.’ She looked over her shoulder at him and, to his astonishment, the line of her throat, the angle of her neat chin and the curve of her smile fanned the fire in his belly to a needy, urgent blast of heat.

‘Don’t frown, though I have to say you look very sexy when you do, all macho and...’ Her words petered out and she squeezed her eyes shut. ‘Remind me never to drink champagne again.’

Despite himself Adoni laughed. There was something so refreshing about a woman who spoke her mind.

‘How old are you, Alice?’ Suddenly it was important he find out.

‘Twenty-three next week.’ She turned away and poured milk into one of the coffees. ‘How old are you?’

Relief filled him. With her unguarded behaviour he’d wondered if perhaps she was far younger. ‘Thirty-one.’ A lifetime apart from her in experience, but, he realised in shock, that didn’t dim his interest. His burgeoning interest. His trousers were too tight as he sat down opposite her.

‘You look older.’ She tilted her head as she surveyed him. ‘Except when you smile. I like your smile. You should smile more often.’ Carefully she put the milk jug down on the table.

Adoni’s lips twitched. Had he really preferred candour?

The answer was a definite yes.

‘I thought you liked my...er...dark, brooding looks.’

‘Oh, I do.’ She stopped abruptly, her mouth sagging a little as if she realised what she’d said, then she focused on the mug of coffee, cautiously taking a sip. ‘But your smile makes you look less like some bossy Greek god.’

‘Ares?’

She nodded emphatically. ‘Yes.’ She paused. ‘Or the one who threw thunderbolts.’

‘Zeus?’ Was he really so fearsome? Adoni preferred to think of himself as controlled and focused, a man who didn’t suffer fools in business or gold-diggers in his personal life.

‘That’s the one.’ Her brow furrowed. ‘Except they always show him with a beard and you don’t have one.’