The Kiss She Claimed From The Greek

Sofie floated downstairs, her blood still rushing giddily through her veins after that kiss. She was unsteady in heels at the best of times, and these strappy sandals were vertiginous, so she was happy to sit and wait in the lounge, as suggested by another of Achilles’s house staff.

Céline must have gone home... Sofie missed a familiar face in such intimidating surroundings.

When the stylist had suggested she try on this dress earlier, she’d protested. It had looked like a mere sliver of black silk on the hanger. It couldn’t possibly be a full garment. But then she’d put it on and looked at herself in the mirror and had genuinely not recognised herself.

She’d never imagined she could look like this. Kind of...sleek and sultry. She looked down and saw the curves of her bare breasts and fought back the urge to pull the dress closed over them again.

As Achilles had pointed out, there would be women dressed in less. She wasn’t a total hick—she read the gossip magazines like everyone else—so she knew what people wore to exclusive parties.

At that moment she heard low voices outside the room and stood up just as Achilles entered. Her legs immediately felt weak. He was wearing a classic black tuxedo and he’d shaved. He was all sharp angles and hard bones. And that beautiful mouth. But his hair was still a little overlong. He looked exactly like what he was. A modern-day titan of industry.

‘Ready to go?’

‘No,’ Sofie responded honestly.

Achilles smiled and held out a hand. ‘Trust me, it’ll be fine.’

Sofie walked forward and put her hand in his. She very much doubted that, but she couldn’t deny she was curious to get a little taste of a life she would never experience again after tonight.

‘Close your mouth.’

This instruction was delivered with a dry tone. Sofie immediately clamped her mouth shut, feeling heat rise into her face. She couldn’t help her awe and wonder, though. They were in one of the country’s most famous museums, which had been transformed into a glittering, golden wonderland populated by a species of human that Sofie had never seen before. Tall, sleek, beautiful.

The air smelled rich. Rarefied. Waiters moved so smoothly through the crowd it was as if they were on invisible wheels. Did they get training to move like that? Sofie wondered, just as Achilles took two glasses of champagne from one of the proffered trays and handed her a glass.

Sofie took a sip of the sparkling wine. Her second glass in one day. She’d only ever had sparkling wine before when she’d turned twenty-one, and it hadn’t been champagne.

At that moment a tall, beautiful woman glided out of the crowd to come and stand in front of Achilles. She was very blonde and very tall. And thin.

‘Achilles,’ she purred, ‘where have you been hiding? You weren’t at the opening of Nick’s new club in Paris...’

She pouted, and looked so ridiculous that Sofie almost laughed. But then she realised the woman was being serious.

The woman flicked her a dismissive up-and-down glance and then fake-smiled. ‘I’m sorry, I’m intruding. I didn’t realise you’d brought your assistant this evening. No rest for the wicked, eh?’

Achilles snaked an arm around Sofie’s waist and pulled her close. He said smoothly, ‘She’s not my assistant. Sofie MacKenzie, I’d like you to meet Naomi Winters.’

Sofie held out her right hand and smiled. ‘Nice to meet you.’

The woman’s eyes grew huge, and then she spluttered something unintelligible and melted back into the crowd.

Sofie hated to admit to the lance of insecurity and, worse, jealousy. ‘One of your ex-lovers?’ she asked.

Achilles made a sound. ‘Please credit me with some discernment. That woman has edges sharper than a knife.’

That only made Sofie think of the ex-lover she had seen online—the sultry Spanish beauty. ‘The man is incapable of feeling anything.’

She shivered slightly and Achilles’s arm tightened. ‘Cold?’

She looked up at him and felt dizzy at his beauty. No wonder the other woman had been so dismissive of Sofie. She must be standing out like a sore thumb. Sofie shook her head. ‘I’m fine.’

She let Achilles take her hand and lead her deeper into the crowd towards where music was playing and tried to keep her mouth shut.

Sofie was in Achilles’s arms on the dance floor. He was barely aware of the slow, jazzy music coming from the world-famous band. He was very aware of how Sofie felt in his arms. Soft and unbelievably sexy. He’d seen many people here this evening—contemporaries. Adversaries. Normally he would have engaged, but he’d found himself swerving away to steal more time with this woman.

Her reaction to their surroundings had been enthralling to him. She’d looked like a child in the middle of the world’s most expensive toyshop. He was so used to this type of venue himself that he barely took them in any more. And everyone he knew affected the same blasé attitude. They wouldn’t dare look impressed, even if they were.

Sofie was totally unaware of the social mores of a milieu like this. And in a way that should be a sign that perhaps she was right, and she should go home after one fantastical night, but still Achilles resisted.

He wanted more than one night.

He looked down at her. She was gaping at someone gliding past on the dance floor. He recognised her just as Sofie whispered, ‘Do you know who that is? She won an Oscar last year!’

‘Eyes up.’

Sofie dragged her gaze away and up to Achilles. He felt the effect of those huge dark blue eyes right in his gut. And lower.

She ducked her head. ‘Sorry, I’m embarrassing you.’

He tipped up her chin with his finger and shook his head. ‘No, you couldn’t embarrass me. I’m enjoying it.’

A glint came into Sofie’s eye, reminding him of that steely strength he’d noticed about her when they’d first met. She said, ‘The novelty factor?’

‘Not novel. Charming.’

‘Oh, you’re a smooth one.’

He found himself smiling, and it felt strange. He realised he was used to having to curb most of his emotions around women, not wanting them to get the wrong idea.

She looked a bit nervous. He found being able to read her equally enthralling. ‘Spit it out.’

She bit her lip, and then she said, ‘Earlier, I didn’t see any mention of your family...parents...siblings...’

That knife was slicing back through his ribs. Achilles fought not to tense. ‘My family are dead.’

The concern he’d imagined earlier came into Sofie’s eyes and the knife between his ribs twisted. ‘Oh, Achilles, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.’

He ungritted his jaw. ‘It was a long time ago.’

Before she could keep looking at him like that or say anything else, he took her hand and led her off the dance floor.

She picked up her skirts and followed him. ‘Where are we going?’

He looked back at her. ‘Home. We’ve got one night and I don’t intend to waste it.’

She was right. She didn’t belong here. With him. But it was just for one more night. He would let her go tomorrow and get on with his life. Put her, the island and his brief memory lapse out of his head for good.