Innocent in Her Enemy’s Bed

He ignored the shouts of anger and kept walking.

A surge of triumph had Leander barking out a laugh and throwing both his arms around his fiancée, squeezing her lithe form while he started to plant an exuberant kiss—

She went stiff with rejection. Her face had drained so her complexion was more olive than honey-gold. Her arm was bent against his chest, not pushing him away, but tense enough to hold him off. Her thick black lashes were lowered to hide her eyes, but her mouth was tight with anxiety.

She was trembling so hard, a different compulsion rocked through him, the kind that wanted to cradle her close. He smoothed his hand over her narrow back, disconcerted to realize she was much slighter than she seemed. The way beauty radiated off her created a halo of presence that was bigger than she physically was.

“Are you going to faint?” he asked with concern.

“Of course not. But I’ve lost my appetite. I’d like to leave.” She extricated herself from his hold and reached for her handbag on the edge of the table.

Somehow, her hand took a wild lurch and knocked over her glass of wine.

Her inhale was a sharp tear of sound. He braced for a scream to come out of her, but she only stared at the spreading stain, body so taut he thought one touch would cause her to shatter.

She carefully released her breath and looked at his shirt button. Her mouth was quivering, her eyes unblinking. “I’ll find my own way back.”

“I’ll take you.”

She didn’t argue, only started for the stairs.

The server met them there and assured them their meal would be remade immediately.

“We’re leaving. Bill me for our meal and for all the guests who were affected. Allow them to order anything else they wish.” Leander left Androu’s number for the invoice.

As they slid into his vehicle, he was still hungry for food, still thirsty for blood. Still grimly gratified, but wondering if he had overplayed his hand. It had been very satisfying to watch his enemy take that kick to the stomach, but he would have preferred to spring the marriage on Midas when it was a fait accompli.

The way Ilona was reacting had him wondering if she would try to back out.

“What made you side with me?” he asked curiously.

She was bringing her phone to her ear and held up a trembling finger. Her voice was unsteady as she said, “It’s me—Yes, I know, Feodor. I just saw him. No, that’s fine.”

“Is that your assistant? Fire him,” Leander said in a spark of temper. Everything he’d been trying to do today had been jeopardized by Midas showing up in the middle of it. If Androu had ever revealed his whereabouts without his consent, he would know he was terminated before Leander had to think the words.

Ilona ignored him. “Tell Eugene to make a code yellow adjustment and meet me at the curb in fifteen minutes. Do that now, then come back to me.” She angled the phone away from her mouth. “Please take me to my office, Dino. I mean it this time.”

“Yes, kyría.” Dino pulled out and headed east.

“I don’t expect my employees to stand between me and my family,” Ilona told Leander. “Feodor knows to be as circumspect as possible, but Midas would only install spies in my company if he didn’t get the information he wants when he wants it. Feodor weighs the cost benefit and—Yes, I’m here.” She went back to her call. “I need to meet with accounting and legal as soon as I’m in the building. See if you can get my own accountant and lawyer into a room in the next day or two. I also want to speak with the property agent who found my flat.”

“I have a property agent,” Leander interjected. “We’ll meet with her together to find a house that suits us both.”

He should be on his own phone, telling Androu to set up his own meetings, but he was morbidly fascinated by Ilona’s swiftness to action. Disturbingly, it reminded him of those initial hours after he’d found his father, when his mind had been crystal clear and he’d done all the things so fast he couldn’t even remember how the emergency personnel had been notified or his father’s body removed. He’d come back to awareness two weeks later, rocked out of his stupor to realize he was in a utility vehicle rambling across the tundra without any recollection of how his father had been laid to rest or who had tried to console him.

“Hold a moment, Feodor.” She lowered the phone. “We can meet with your agent, but I need mine for something else. What is our timeline? Do you want a proper wedding? I don’t. They take ages to organize and I’d prefer something quiet since this isn’t—”

“Short timeline, big splash,” he stated. “Weeks not months. I’ll arrange the wedding if you don’t want to.”

She made a face and went back to her assistant. “I need you to hire a wedding planner—” Something Feodor said broke through her shield and she gave a bemused shake of her head. “You’re such a cliché sometimes. Yes, take the lead, but you can’t do it all yourself. I have a lot to accomplish in the next short while so hire a professional planner and—Pardon? Oh, it’s, um...” Her stark expression slid to Leander. The pinpoints of her pupils exploded to swallow the dark brown of her irises. “I’m marrying Leander Vasilou.”

Her words struck in his ears like a hammer, reverberating through his whole being. He was doing this. Marrying her. A Pagonis.

He didn’t even know if he could trust her. A phrase he’d heard his English mother once use emerged from his suppressed childhood. Marry in haste, repent at leisure.

“Almost there,” Ilona said, peering forward. “Send my private number to Leander’s assistant. I’ll see you in a moment.” She ended the call and dropped her phone into her clutch.

Callas Cosmetics had manufacturing facilities around the world, but its head office and research laboratory were still located in its original building, one that Ilona had taken over from a long-defunct textile plant, revitalizing a depressed area into upscale industry.