Exotic Nights

Angel felt raw and exposed, and painful memories were surging back, as if it wasn’t awful enough to deal with what had just happened.

She heard a hush descend on the crowd in the salon, and searched for some means of escape. Finally, growing desperate, she spotted where some steps led down from the patio to the lower levels, and presumably back around to the kitchen. Hurrying down, she knew that she could forget about her job. The incident with the wine would have sealed her fate anyway; her disappearance with the guest of honour would have merely ensured it.

If her boss hadn’t known the significance of who she was, he soon would, and she didn’t want to be around to witness that.

Down in the kitchen she grabbed her things, and then crept out and headed down the drive, away from the glittering villa, not looking back once.

Leo stood and listened to his father’s unashamedly emotional speech, Georgios Parnassus made no secret of the fact that he was ready to hand over the reins of power to Leo. The prospect of a shift in power had been evident in the room instantaneously. Again, Leo felt that welling of some ancient pride, that sense of right to be here. While he wasn’t going to give the old man the satisfaction of capitulating so easily, he couldn’t deny the sense of needing to stake his own claim to his birthright, the birthright that had been stolen from him.

His old man was no fool. No doubt he’d banked on exactly this by asking him to come to Greece, but Leo was not about to let him see that he might have won so soon.

Even while Leo was able to function and articulate his thoughts and intentions as the rapturous applause died away after his father’s speech and the din of conversation rose again, his body still hummed with desire for the woman he’d left outside on the patio. He flicked a glance to the doors, once again open, but couldn’t see her. Irritation prickled to think she might have moved. He’d told her to wait for him. He was trapped now, though, by the usual sycophants, all vying to get a slice of him.

He chafed to leave, to get back outside, finish what they’d started, and that irked him. Here he was at the potential forking of the road in his life, a huge moment, and all he could think about was a sexy waitress who’d had the temerity to blow hot and cold and then hot again. Anger gripped him, surprising him. He’d never encountered that before. He’d had women play hard to get in an effort to snag his interest and it never worked. He didn’t indulge in games. The women in his life were experienced, mature … and knew the score. No emotional entanglement and no game-playing.

But when she had looked at him as if he’d been some callow youth trying to maul her … he’d seen red. He’d never felt that singular desire before to prove someone wrong, to imprint himself on a woman. He’d never felt such a ruthless need to kiss anyone like that … and then, when he’d felt her initial struggle fade, when he’d felt her grow hot and wanton in his arms, kissing him back almost as if her life—

‘Georgios couldn’t have been more obvious—so, are you ready to take the bait, Parnassus?’

Leo was so helplessly deep in his thoughts that it took a second for his brain to function and come back into the room. The fawning crowd surrounding him was gone. He blinked and saw that Aristotle Levakis, his father’s business partner, was looking at him expectantly. Leo liked Ari Levakis; they’d worked closely together at the time of the merger, albeit with Leo based in New York. But, much to his chagrin now, he had to force himself to remember what Ari had just said.

He couldn’t shake the building tension, wanting to get back out to her. What if she’d gone? He didn’t even know her name. He forced himself to smile and joked, ‘You think I’m going to discuss it with you and have any decision I make all over Athens by morning?’

Ari tutted good-naturedly. Leo tried to concentrate on their conversation even as he looked for glossy brown hair piled high, exposing a delicate jaw and neck.

He missed something Ari said then, and cursed himself. ‘I’m sorry, what did you say?’

‘That I was surprised to see her here. I saw you taking her outside—did you ask her to leave?’ Ari was shaking his head. ‘I’ll admit she has some nerve …’

Leo went very still. ‘Her?’

‘Angel Kassianides. Tito’s eldest daughter. She was here working as a waitress … She spilt wine over Pia Kyriapoulos and you took her outside. I think everyone presumed that you were telling her where to go.’ Ari looked around for a moment. ‘And I haven’t seen her since, so whatever you said worked.’

Leo had an instant reaction to hearing the Kassianides name mentioned. It was the name of their enemy; a name that represented loss, pain, humiliation, and unbelievable heartache. He frowned, trying to understand. ‘Angel Kassianides … She’s a Kassianides?’

Ari looked back and nodded, frowning when he saw Leo’s face. ‘You didn’t know?’

Leo shook his head, his brain struggling to take in this information. Why would he know what Tito Kassianides’ children looked like? They’d not dealt directly with the Kassianides family during the merger. The merger itself had been all that was needed to precipitate their downfall. It had been a clean and sterile revenge, but it felt curiously insufficient now, when he’d been faced by one of them here tonight. When he’d kissed one of them.

He felt acutely vulnerable; if Ari had recognised her, then who was to say that others hadn’t? He remembered how he’d led her outside with one thought in mind: getting her alone so he could explore his attraction, with no clue as to her identity. He let anger dispel the unwelcome feeling of vulnerability. Had she been planning some sort of incident? What the hell had she been playing at with him? Seducing him with those huge blue eyes and then trying to pretend she didn’t desire him? She’d been toying with him from that moment by the pool. Those widening eyes must have held recognition of who he was, not the mutual flash of attraction he’d believed it to be. The thought made bile rise. He hadn’t felt so exposed … ever.

Had her father sent her, like some sort of pawn? Had the whole thing been an act? Leo’s entire body stiffened in rejection of that thought. Just then he saw his own father approaching, with a delegation of other men. He had no time to process this now, and for the rest of the evening Leo would have to act and smile and pretend that he didn’t want to rip off his bow tie, throw his jacket down and go and find Angel Kassianides and get her to answer some very pertinent questions.

A week later, New York

Leo stood at the huge window in his office that looked out over downtown Manhattan. The view was familiar, but he didn’t see it. All he could see, and all he had seen every time he closed his eyes since Athens, was Angel Kassianides’ angelic face, tipped up to his, eyelids fluttering closed, just before he’d kissed her. He laughed caustically to himself. Angel. Whoever had named her had named her well.

He wrenched his mind away from Angel and thought of Athens. Not that he’d admit it to anyone yet, and certainly not his father, but Athens had changed something fundamental inside him. New York was spread out below him and he felt nothing. It was as if even though he’d been born and brought up here it had never claimed him. It didn’t resonate within him the way it once had. Now it was just a fast-living jumble of towering buildings.

He’d even rung his mistress that morning, after avoiding her all week, which was not like him, and broken it off. Her histrionics still rang in his ear. But he hadn’t even felt a twinge of conscience. He’d felt relief.

Angel. It irritated him how easily she kept inserting herself into his consciousness. He hadn’t been able to indulge in seeking her out and asking her just what the hell she’d been playing at in his father’s villa due to a crisis erupting here in his head office. A crisis that looked set to continue for at least a few weeks, much to his irritation. Not that it was serving to take his mind off her. He wasn’t used to women distracting his attention, and certainly not ones he hadn’t even slept with.

Anger bubbled low within him. The feeling that he’d been made a fool of was a novel one, and not something he was prepared to allow for a moment longer. Angel Kassianides was playing with fire if she thought she could make a fool out of a Parnassus. Out of him. How dared she? After everything her family had done to his? On the very night of his public introduction to Athens society?

Her sheer audacity struck him again. Evidently the Kassianides family weren’t content to let the past be the past. Did they want to rake up old enmity or worse, to fight to the death until they reined supreme again?

Leo frowned. Perhaps they had the support of some of the old Athens elite? Perhaps the threat was something to be concerned about …? And then, he chastised himself. Maybe it was all nothing. A pure coincidence that Angel had been there that night.