The Greek's Hidden Vows

She sighed. ‘No, I don’t have a problem with the company.’ Liar. ‘I just...’ Want a moment to regroup.

She stared at him, noted the lines around his mouth had deepened even more. Her gaze dropped to the column of his muscular throat, the hard-packed body and the strong hand wrapped around the door handle.

Had she been given to flights of fancy, she would’ve concluded that he didn’t want to drink alone. But he was Christos Drakakis, the man who conquered opponents with a few lethal words. Even high court judges scrambled to preside over his cases because he was a breathtaking marvel in the courtroom.

She couldn’t remain standing there like a mannequin. She opened her mouth to utter a definitive refusal but he threw the door open abruptly, and strode into his penthouse, leaving her staring slack-jawed at the open doorway.

Knowing he’d effectively tossed the ball in her court should’ve made her mad and go straight to her own suite.

Instead she moved towards his door. One foot inside, she paused to watch him discard his suit jacket on the velvet sofa, then fold back the sleeves of his shirt while staring out of the window.

Without acknowledging her presence, he strolled with lithe grace to the sleek cabinet that held a collection of expensive hard liquor, wine and champagne on the far side of the large living room and pulled the stopper from a Waterford crystal decanter. For a handful of seconds, the only sound was the drink hitting the glass and ice cubes plopping into the cognac.

Done, he opened the wine cooler, grabbed a bottle of chilled Chablis and fixed a white wine spritzer for her. Drinks in hand, he headed to the sofa, set the wine glass on the low coffee table, took a seat and propped one ankle over his knee.

All without looking at her.

Alexis fought several emotions. Fascination. Irritation. Envy at the effortless sophistication he exuded and the animalistic presence that captured her attention. Back to irritation at the arrogance that implied he’d known she would follow him in.

On feet that had developed a mind of their own, she crossed the living room and chose a seat at the far end of the sofa. After another throb of silence, he picked up the glass and held it out to her.

‘Are you always this arrogant with the people you invite for drinks?’ she said, unable to help the bite of irritation in her voice.

One corner of his lips quirked. ‘Is it arrogance if I’m good at anticipating a person’s needs?’

‘Don’t presume to know me, Christos. I may just shock you one of these days.’

His eyes darkened a shade, his gaze dropping to linger on her mouth before rising again. ‘Pick another day. I’ve had my fill of surprises for today.’

The reminder of his loss mellowed out her irritation. Reaching out, she accepted the drink. ‘Thank you,’ she muttered.

He raised his glass after a beat. ‘To ensuring a day like this never happens again.’

She sipped the refreshing spritzer. Then nearly choked on it when he angled his body towards her. ‘This obstinate side to you is a revelation,’ he observed dryly.

Why that observation pleased her, Alexis refused to contemplate. ‘Like you said, it’s been a challenging day.’

‘Who were you texting downstairs?’ he enquired suddenly.

‘What?’

‘When I came out of my office you were on the phone. It seemed...frantic. Who were you contacting at one o’clock in the morning?’ he asked, a definite edge in his voice.

‘My flatmate, Sophie. If she wakes up and I’m not there, she’ll worry.’

‘Just your flatmate?’ he pressed. ‘You weren’t attached when we struck our agreement last year. That hasn’t changed, has it?’

Alexis shifted in her seat, both at the directness of the question but also at the unrelenting probe of his gaze. ‘I was texting Sophie. She can be a mama bear when she puts her mind to it. I have to report in on a regular basis or she worries. You probably know what I’m talking about, right?’ she asked, acutely aware she was straying into prying territory.

He tensed. ‘What?’

‘Parents? Siblings?’ Goodness, Alexis. Just stop. ‘Special friends who harangue and make you feel as if you’ve committed a cardinal sin if they don’t hear from you for a few days?’

The expression that flashed through his eyes was mostly bitterness but with a trace of perplexity, as if she was describing an alien concept to him.

In the long stretch of silence while her question hung between them, Alexis told herself she should’ve stuck to neutral topics. But then with a bite of irritation she reminded herself that he’d made it personal.

She was just following his lead. She sipped her drink, then cradled her glass. ‘It’s fine. You don’t have to answer—’