Shackled by Diamonds

But the effect didn’t diminish. Quite the reverse, it simply gained potency, aided and abetted by the way his lean frame lounged back in supreme ease, long legs stretched out, hands curved over the arms of the chair, head resting on the chair-back, those dark heavy-lidded eyes resting on her.

Looking at her.

Letting her look back.

Suddenly she did not want the household staff to disappear. She didn’t want to be alone with Leo Makarios.

Anna could feel a heat flaring out from somewhere deep inside her. She tried to douse it, extinguish it, but it wouldn’t be cooled. Instead it curled and spread through her as she just sat there, drinking in the man sitting opposite her, now being offered a taste of the wine that had just been opened.

She saw him sample the wine, saw him nod, saw the member of staff turn to fill her glass and then his employer’s, then be dismissed with his colleague, saw them both bowing briefly and then quitting the room, shutting the door behind them.

Leaving her alone with Leo Makarios.

With huge effort she quashed down the dangerous pooling heat inside her.

She opened her mouth to speak, protest his uninvited presence.

But Leo Makarios was before her.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘Mahlzeit.’

Anna’s mouth snapped shut again.

‘What?’

‘Mahlzeit,’ he repeated, in his accented voice. His eyes gleamed slightly. ‘Have you not heard that yet? Austrians invariably pronounce that to each other before eating. It means mealtime. It appears to be their version of bon appetit. Now, what may I help you to?’

He picked up the serving spoon and fork and let them hover over the plate of meats and salmon.

She took a deep breath.

‘Mr Makarios—’ she began.

He looked up. ‘Leo,’ he said. ‘I think we can dispense with the formalities now. Theos, it’s been a long evening! But,’ he went on, calmly selecting a slice of smoked chicken and placing it on her empty plate, ‘a highly successful one. Ham and salmon?’

‘No, thank you,’ she snapped. ‘Mr Makarios, I—’

The dark eyes lifted to her.

‘Leo,’ he said softly. ‘So, just chicken, then?’ He placed another slice on her plate. ‘Salad?’

‘No! I don’t want any food. I don’t want—’

He scooped up some salad and added it to her plate.

‘I ate very little this evening, and you ate absolutely nothing. You must be hungry.’

I’m always hungry, she wanted to snap. But if I eat I’ll put on weight and lose jobs. So I don’t eat. And I ignore hunger!

But even as the words formed in her mind she felt a treacherous pang in her stomach. She didn’t usually starve herself as she had done this evening. That was just counter-productive. But tonight had been so nerve-racking because of having to stay glued to Leo’s side that the very idea of eating some of the buffet food, however delicious, had been impossible. She had planned to have herbal tea and an orange—she never travelled without either—to see her through to breakfast in the morning.

But the sight and smell of the beautifully prepared and presented food was so enticing. The hunger pang came again. The scent of a freshly baked roll wafted to her. She felt her will-power weaken.

All right—she would eat a light supper, a very light supper, and then throw Leo Makarios out. It was perfectly obvious what he’d turned up here for—

Or was it?

Had she got it completely wrong?

He had started to speak again.

‘Tell me,’ he said, as he helped himself to food, ‘have you known the other three models long?’

Anna paused in the middle of lifting her fork to start eating. Chicken and salad without dressing wouldn’t be a crime—and she would, of course, ignore the rolls.

‘I beg your pardon?’ Her voice sounded surprised at his question.

He repeated it, shaking out a white damask napkin on his lap and lifting his plate.

She took a mouthful of chicken, which melted in her mouth. ‘I’ve known Jenny for several years, but this is the first time I’ve worked with Kate and Vanessa.’

‘Which one is the redhead?’ Leo Makarios asked.

‘That would be Vanessa,’ Anna replied with exaggerated politeness. ‘The one with the big boobs, in case you need another way of identifying her.’ Her voice was acid.

Dark eyes flicked over her.

‘You really do need to lose that attitude,’ Leo Makarios murmured.

‘So do you,’ she bit back. ‘Models do have names, as well as bodies.’

She forked up a large amount of salad with unnecessary vigour.

‘You take offence where none is intended—I merely had not yet managed to distinguish the four of you by name, only hair colour,’ he replied coolly. The eyes rested on her momentarily. She thought she saw irritation in them.