The Billionaire's Virgin Box Set

She shrank as she imagined how much he must now be regretting his uncharacteristic lack of control. It was all too easy to imagine him calculating what that one awkward lapse was going to cost him in terms of money and adverse publicity. ‘Well, anyway, it doesn’t change the facts. I need to leave.’

‘My father was kind to you.’

‘Yes.’

‘Then you must stay. You owe him this favour.’

She stared at him helplessly. ‘That’s not fair—’

‘I don’t play fair, Chantal,’ he said softly. ‘I play to win.’

She closed her eyes and tried to find the steely streak she needed to refuse. ‘I can’t—’

‘His health is fragile. You have the ability to make him happy. Can you deprive him of that?’

She opened her eyes. ‘You’re totally ruthless, aren’t you?’

‘Focused.’

She turned her head away, feeling as though she were a leaf caught in a hurricane. The force of his personality was too powerful to resist.

‘I don’t see how my presence will really help him…’ But she was wavering and he sensed it, moving in for the kill like a lion spotting a wonded antelope.

‘Your presence could make all the difference to his recovery.’

She wanted to say no, but she couldn’t forget the kindness his father had shown her.

‘All right.’ The words were dragged from her lips. ‘I’ll stay—’

‘Of course you will.’ Clearly supremely confident of his own negotiation skills, he didn’t look surprised by her decision.

‘—But only if you let me pay you.’

‘I don’t understand your desire to be independent.’

‘It isn’t about independence—’ She broke off, realising that if she stuck by that claim then she’d have to explain herself. And she had no intention of doing that. He already knew far too much about her.

His dark eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t want your money.’

‘Take it,’ she said fiercely. ‘Or I’m going home right now.’

He studied her in silence, his expression unreadable. ‘All right. If it makes you happy.’ With economy of movement he reached for the roll of notes and slipped it into his pocket. ‘So, now that problem is solved you can unpack your suitcase. My father is waiting for us on the terrace. Why don’t you change and then join us?’

It was only after he’d strode from the room that Chantal realised they still hadn’t discussed what had happened in the pool.

* * *

‘I’m not that hungry,’ Costas protested as Chantal spooned a small helping of roasted peppers onto his plate.

‘They’re delicious,’ she enthused. ‘You just have to try them. Just a mouthful.’

‘Women.’ Costas sighed and picked up his fork. ‘They never let a man rest.’

‘You can rest later.’ She helped herself to a different dish, examining the contents closely. ‘What’s this?’

‘Fasoláda—kidney beans baked in the oven with vegetables, herbs and olive oil. It’s delicious. Try it.’

‘Only if you try some, too.’ Her smile engaging, she spooned a small amount onto his plate and watched while he ate. ‘Well?’