Sofie put her hand into his, and before she could say anything he tugged her forward and cupped the back of her head, capturing her mouth with his. Letting her soft sweetness morph into something much more carnal and sexual.
She was falling into him, and he was ready to scoop her up and take her to the nearest soft flat surface, but then she pulled back. ‘You have to go to the doctor.’
There was a discreet knock on the door.
Achilles called out with a bite of frustration, ‘I’m coming.’ He looked at Sofie. ‘Do not move. I’ll be back in a few hours. I’ll have the dress delivered.’
‘Okay.’
Sofie watched Achilles stand up and walk out. She’d been so ready to leave and go home just a short while before, beyond intimidated by what she’d seen when she’d searched for Achilles Lykaios online. So many pictures and headlines. Each one landing in her solar plexus like a punch to the gut.
World’s richest industrialist makes a new acquisition!
Can anything stop Lykaios Industries from taking over the world?
Achilles Lykaios takes part in another death-defying stunt—how many lives does this man have?
Achilles Lykaios refuses to answer questions about his love life...
Achilles Lykaios plays as hard as he works...
This last headline was accompanied by pictures of Achilles attending a different glittering event every night of one week, each time with a different woman on his arm.
And yet more headlines:
Achilles Lykaios at world exclusive premiere with latest lover, top model Cassandra Nunez...
And then, mere days later...
Cassandra Nunez is seen out and about after split with Lykaios... ‘The man is incapable of feeling anything. He’s a robot.’
Sofie had felt sick as her head had filled with the image of the stunning dark-haired Spanish beauty. All flashing eyes, alluring curves and pouting mouth. She hadn’t looked happy.
This definitely wasn’t Sofie’s world. But maybe it could be for just one more night. Achilles made it sound so simple. And, as intimidated as she was, she didn’t want to walk away from him yet.
She knew that as soon as Achilles saw her in his milieu he would understand that she had to go home. But she vowed in that moment that she would see this experience as a portal into doing something about her ambitions to travel and see the world. To find meaningful work and maybe, one day, settle down and create the family she’d never experienced. And even if that didn’t happen it would be okay. Because just being around Achilles made her feel a sense of worth and visibility that she’d never felt before, and she would always cherish that.
So, really, what harm was one more night living the fantasy?
A few hours later, after being given the all-clear from his doctor, but with no explanation as to how and why his memory had chosen to come back at that particular moment, Achilles strode back into his Mayfair townhouse, welcoming the distraction of wondering about Sofie. The thought of her having left by now sent a wave of rejection through his body. He wasn’t ready to let her go. He’d asked her for one more night. She would stay for more. He was renowned for his powers of persuasion. In the bedroom and the boardroom.
He stopped at the door to the master suite. It was ajar. Sofie was inside, because he’d instructed that she be put in his room. She was facing away from him and was wearing a black dress that was cut away to the middle of her bare back. Straight shoulders. That fall of inky black hair against her pale skin.
As if sensing him, she turned around and his breath caught in his throat. The dress was held up by a jewelled collar, but his eyes skimmed over that detail and down to where a keyhole cut-out exposed the voluptuous curves of her bare breasts.
Gathered at the waist, the dress fell to the floor in soft drapes. It was daring, yet simple and elegant. She wore minimal make-up and her hair was loose and artfully tousled.
When she spoke she sounded nervous. ‘The stylist helped me with hair and make-up. I wouldn’t have a clue about that sort of thing.’ She picked at the sides of the hole at the front of the dress, as if to pull it closed over her breasts.
‘Stop,’ Achilles growled, suddenly feeling a little feral. ‘It’s meant to be like that.’
‘I feel naked.’
Achilles walked towards her. ‘Believe me, you’re not naked enough.’
She blushed.
He stopped just in front of her, a little surprised at the powerful rush of need in his blood. Enough to make him not act on impulse. Not to rip open that collar so that the dress fell open and he could feast on her luscious breasts. Later.
‘You look perfect. Plenty of women will be dressed in far more revealing dresses.’
‘Achilles, are you really sure you want to do this? I mean it’s not too late—there’s another sleeper train—’
Unable to stop himself, Achilles stepped up to Sofie and stopped her words with his mouth, his hands on her small waist. The dress was silky and slippery under his hands, making his blood surge as he imagined what she would feel like under his fingers, between her legs where heat throbbed, how she would cry out when he tasted her.
Dizzy at the speed with which a mere kiss was about to morph into something far more carnal, Achilles pulled back. When he could speak he said, ‘You are not leaving. Not yet.’
He took his hands off her waist. Her eyes looked a little blurry. Mouth pink.
‘Okay. Not leaving.’
‘I have to change. Why don’t you wait for me downstairs? I won’t be long.’ First, he needed to take a very cold shower.