His Penniless Beauty

‘Tough.’ His reply was unsympathetic.

She glared at him, but said nothing. She had no choice but to take what was handed out to her. Just the way she had for four hideous years. Taking everything thrown at her. Swallowing it. Enduring it.

And she would endure this too. Because the lifeline he was tossing at her was one she could not afford to throw back in his face.

He waited, pointedly, as she moved around the table.

‘I’ll have my driver take you home now,’ he told her, pulling out his mobile to summon his car. ‘Give you time to pack.’

She said nothing. She couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything except let him steer her out of the hotel on to the pavement. A sleek saloon was there already, and the driver got out, opening the rear passenger door for her. How many times had she shared Nikos’s chauffeured car, been out with him in the evening? Been escorted home by him, her heart singing with bliss…?

She pulled her gaze away. Away from his tall, commanding figure that could make her heart skip a beat just looking at it.

But not any more.

Never again.

As she plunged inside the car, scooping her long, clinging skirt out of the way as she did so, she twisted her head away, staring out of the far window at the traffic coursing heedlessly by. Refusing to look back at Nikos.

The driver spoke to her on his intercom, and she gave him her address then hunkered further back into the corner of her seat, still not looking out at Nikos, not knowing if he were even still there or not as the car pulled out into the traffic.

On the pavement, heedless of passers-by, Nikos stood stock still, staring after the disappearing car. His face was expressionless. But inside, virulently, he was calling himself every kind of fool for having allowed himself to see her again, to do this face to face instead of setting one of his staff to sort it, keeping himself well away from her. Too late now, though—it was done. Sophie was dealt with, and also the danger she threatened his family with. Silencing his castigations, he reached out his hand to flag down a passing taxi.

Heading the other way.

The way that did not have Sophie Granton in its path.

CHAPTER FIVE

NIKOS gazed abstractedly out across the expanse of his London office, filled with late morning light, and wondered what Sophie Granton was making of her new accommodation. It would be quite a shock for her, that was for certain. He gave a thin, humourless smile. A luxury venue it was not.

What had she been expecting? he wondered to himself. That he would keep her in the comfort she was so used to? His smile narrowed to a tight, whipped line. After all, that had always been his main purpose in her life, as far as she was concerned…

That was what he must make himself remember about Sophie Granton. Nothing else.

Nothing about the way she’d used to smile at him, the way they would talk, endlessly, about anything and everything. The way she’d gaze at him, her eyes sparkling like diamonds, when he complimented her. Or the way they’d laughed together, danced together, walked hand in hand together…

He snapped his mind away. What the hell was the point in thinking back to a past he never wanted to remember again? What, indeed, was the point of thinking about Sophie Granton at all?

None, he told himself resolutely. He had done what was necessary to minimise the risk to his family from her sordid lifestyle and that was enough. Anything else was irrelevant.

Irrelevant to think about her now, to think about where she was now, wondering what she was doing, what she made of where he had stashed her to keep her away from London, from Cosmo—from himself.

Because that was why he’d sent her out of town, he knew. To keep her far, far away from him.

Far away was the safest place for Sophie Granton to be.

So he would be safe from her and all that she had once meant to him—and never could again.

With a short, sharp, decisive intake of breath, he reached for his keyboard and got on with his work.

Hot sunlight was baking down, and Sophie could feel sweat trickling down into the small of her back beneath her already damp T-shirt. She rolled her shoulders a moment, stretching her neck, the movement shifting the crouching position she was in and making her rebalance her muscles as she lifted her gaze. A brief, wry expression formed in her eyes as a glance reaffirmed her surroundings.

Was it really only four days since she had been deposited here? It seemed a lot longer. A lot longer since she had climbed, tensely, into the sleek chauffeured car that had been parked so incongruously at the kerb of the bleak, blighted street where she had to live now. Her stomach had been tied into knots, and the mental hardness she’d relied on the previous night to get through the ordeal of seeing Nikos again had dissolved into a morass of viscous, glutinous, conflicting emotions that she’d scarcely been able to give a name to.