Alexis hid her relief as she rose. ‘I’ll get around to taking that Greek course when I’m done with the million other things on my to-do list. And since you’ve never wallowed in your life, I don’t think you’re about to start now.’
Expecting a quick reply, she was a little stunned when his face closed over a fleeting expression that looked very much like suppressed pain. A moment later, the expression, imagined or not, was gone.
‘Where’s the court transcript?’ he demanded brusquely.
She nodded at the pile of papers on his desk. He picked it up and flicked through it, but she was willing to bet the stunning platinum bracelet he’d given her last Christmas that he already knew every word from the court case backwards.
He paused when he reached the verdict, and his jaw clenched again. Without taking his eyes off the page, he reached for his phone and hit number five on his speed dial.
Alexis winced in anticipated sympathy for the head of the firm’s investigative department.
‘Mr Cruz, do you have the names I requested?’ He listened for a moment. ‘The answer is no, your apology isn’t accepted. Your team’s sloppiness cost my client the custody of his child. We have a long history together. But make no mistake, you will ensure that nothing like this ever happens again or you’ll be fired. Is that understood?’
The fifty-seven-year-old veteran who’d worked for DLG since its inception was in the midst of another apology when Christos slammed the phone down.
The phone immediately started ringing. He ignored it, rising to pace to the floor-to-ceiling windows. As if to synchronise with his mood, the early afternoon views of London were gloomy and overcast, the Thames a drab grey ribbon winding itself beneath centuries-old bridges.
Alexis’s gaze flicked over the view but she very quickly lost interest in favour of the man who commanded attention even in a room full of five hundred. His shoulders stretched broad and aggressively masculine beneath the bespoke Italian-made suit.
Her scrutiny dropped lower, to the trim waist framed by his jacket, then to the powerful legs planted apart in a battle stance, even though there was no opponent to decimate.
From head to toe, Christos Drakakis oozed raw power. Add his drop-dead gorgeous face and razor-sharp intelligence, and he was formidably complex enough to reduce every man, woman and child he met to a state of breathless awe without so much as lifting a finger.
She reminded herself that Adrian had been equally aware of his effect on women. On her. He’d preyed on it, deliberately set a trap for her. One she’d fallen into and nearly damaged her career permanently. Christos would never know, but that armour she’d been forced to build around her emotions reinforced her vow never to stumble that badly ever again.
But...lately, her foundations were getting harder to fortify.
Christos whirled around suddenly, startling her.
She schooled her features, but saw the quick glint in his eyes before his expression neutralised that hinted he might have caught her watching him. ‘Wallowing over. Grab your pad and let’s get to work,’ he snapped.
She turned away, acutely aware that his gaze remained on her until she was out of the door. As she stopped for a moment to regroup at her desk, Alexis acknowledged to herself that what had happened with Adrian could never happen again. More importantly, what had happened at Christos’s penthouse couldn’t happen again.
She would play the role of convenient wife for his grandfather’s sake. But not for a single moment could she drop her guard. She’d been let down, not once, but twice. Her heart couldn’t afford another battering. Her soul wouldn’t make it.
CHAPTER THREE
THEY WORKED LONG into the night. By the time the last, shattered-looking lawyer shuffled out of the conference room, it was almost midnight.
Alexis suppressed a sigh and just managed to stop herself from crumpling into a relieved, exhausted heap. She resisted the urge because, in contrast, Christos looked as if he could go another twenty-four hours without respite.
She rose from her seat and gathered her files. ‘I’ll go and type up the notes for you,’ she said.
He strolled to where she stood. ‘I won’t be looking at them tonight. They can wait till tomorrow.’
Her eyes flicked to him, then immediately returned to the files. ‘It’ll only take half an hour or so. Besides, you look like...’ She faltered, wondering if she should voice the observation.
‘I look like what?’ he drawled.
Was his voice deeper, smokier because he’d spent all day barking at his associates or was it something else? Something...sensual? Earthy? The same something that was triggering tiny fireworks beneath her skin?
‘You look...the opposite of what every one of your lawyers loo
ked like when they left the room. Whatever vitamins you take clearly work for you.’
One corner of his mouth twitched then stilled almost immediately. ‘It’s not vitamins that keep me going.’
‘What, then?’ she asked curiously. ‘And don’t say you like winning because this feels like something...more.’