by Maya Blake
He jerked as Perla’s hand touched his in gentle sympathy. ‘I’m sorry that happened to you.’
Sincerity blazed from her clear green eyes. Sincerity he wanted to take and wrap around his damaged heart. Instead, he forced himself to nod.
Slowly, he pulled his hand away.
Because, even in the midst of excruciating reminiscing, he could feel that pull again, that potent hunger that lurked like the sweetest siren call, ready to tempt him.
‘Why?’
Her fingers curled around her piece of bread. ‘Because...because no one deserves to go through what you did.’
Their drinks arrived and he took a healthy gulp of wine, exhaling in satisfaction as the fire in the alcohol temporarily replaced the fire of lust. ‘But I survived. Some would say I triumphed.’
‘But you’re still affected by it, aren’t you?’
He tensed. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Yesterday you didn’t want me to find out what your father had done. Clearly you’re still affected by what happened.’
‘Are we not all shaped by our pasts to some extent? You’re clearly steeped in the past and reacting to your own experiences.’
Her cheeks lost a bit of colour. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘Yesterday you admitted your lack of judgement when it comes to dealing with people. I don’t need to be a genius to work out the root cause of it.’
Paling further, she shook her head. ‘I...I’m not...’
‘Tell me how you met Lowell?’ he asked before he could stop himself. ‘Of all the men you could’ve dated, why him?’
‘Because I didn’t have a crystal ball that could look into the future to see how things would turn out. And you say of all the men as if I had hundreds at my feet.’
He barely stopped himself from glancing up at her hair. The idea that no man had shown interest in her was laughable. ‘So he was the first man to show his interest?’ He tried to force a neutral tone and barely pulled it off.
‘He was charming; he paid me the right sort of attention...at the beginning. I believed I was making the right choice, that we had the same goals and that my feelings were reciprocated.’
Anger roiled through his belly. ‘Instead, he abandoned you shortly after you were married?’
Shocked eyes met his. ‘How did you know that?’
‘I’m a major shareholder in the company he tried to destroy. My brother dealt with the bulk of the investigation but I saw enough.’
Her gaze grew haunted, then it slid away and she reached for the glass of water. After a few sips she set the glass down. ‘So you know a great deal about me.’
‘Enough to know there are no mention of your parents anywhere on record. You take care of your in-laws but what about your own parents?’ he asked, eager to get away from the subject of dead spouses.
The earlier anguish he’d glimpsed returned. ‘I don’t have... I was placed in the foster system when I was one month old. My birth mother left me in front of the social security office with my first name and my date of birth pinned to my blanket. My birth date could be wrong because there was no birth certificate, although the doctors are fairly sure I was born in the month I was left but there were no hospital records so I don’t even know where I was born. So no, I have no record of who my parents are,’ she murmured in a voice ravaged with pain. ‘I’m the child no one wanted.’
His fingers tightened around his glass and he realised he was holding on tight so he wouldn’t reach out for her like she’d reached out for him.
Only he wanted to take her face between his hands and kiss away her pain. He wanted to rewind time, take a different track of conversation that was so far off what he’d come here for it was ludicrous. He should’ve stuck to business, facts, figures.
Not their painful personal pasts. And he should certainly not be sitting here, hanging onto that connection that stemmed from opening up and sharing his desolate history with her.
He wasn’t a sharer.
‘Perla—’
She forced a laugh. ‘How do we always end up on the personal when we vow never to again?’
‘We’re especially bad at pulling the forbidden out of each other.’
‘Or exceptionally good?’ she joked.
He stared at her. And just like that the madness descended again. He tried to shift away from it but it clawed into him, sank its merciless talons into his gut and held him down. Almost in slow motion, he watched her mouth part, her nostrils quiver delicately as she sucked in a desperate breath.
Theos!
She gave a distressed shake of her head and glanced down at the now powered down tablet. ‘The resort. We were discussing the resort,’ she said after clearing her throat.
He forced his mind on track. ‘Yes. I wanted to float the idea of you handling the pre-opening VIP events for the Bermuda resort on your own. If you agree to take on the task, you’ll have to work fast to organise it. The guests arrive at the resort at the end of next week.’
‘The pre-opening event is so your A-list clients can experience the resort and spread the word to their other A-list friends by the time the resort opens properly, correct?’
He nodded. ‘So it needs to be extra-special. Your input here in Washington has been invaluable and you can choose to stay here if you wish, but I think this is more along the lines of what you used to do in your previous position, only on a much larger scale?’
‘Yes, but I’ve never worked in such an exotic location before.’
‘This will be your chance to prove yourself then. I want to see how you fare spearheading a larger project.’ He sipped his wine—absently acknowledging he would have to abandon his beloved sports car in favour of another means of transport to return to the hotel—and watched her digest the information.
Slowly her stunning green eyes widened. ‘Spearheading? Are you serious?’
‘You can handpick your own team, hire and fire as you see fit. You’ll be provided with the initial list of attending guests but you can extend the list if you think you can handle it.’
‘You are serious!’ Shocked happiness erased the last evidence of her bleak foray into the past and, watching her, enchantment eased through him.
Examining himself closer, he realised he felt lighter than he had in a long while. He refused to believe unburdening his past to Perla had succeeded in lightening the heavy load of bitterness and pain, but he had no other explanation for it.
When he found himself smiling in reaction to her still stunned expression, something tugged hard in his chest. ‘Serious enough to promise a quick firing and slow roasting if you mess up my opening.’
She popped another piece of bread into her mouth. ‘Which is really no better than a slow firing and a quick roasting since both sound horrific.’
He laughed and saw her gaze linger on his face and her eyes darken a fraction.
No, he wasn’t going there. They were not going there.
He beckoned the hovering waiter and paused as Perla examined the menu. Slowly she pulled her lower lip into her mouth and pondered some more.
‘Can I help?’ he offered after several minutes.
She looked up in relief. ‘Would you? I never know what to order when I go to a restaurant and I always end up hating what I choose and coveting what’s on other people’s plates.’
‘I’ll order a variety of dishes and you can decide which ones you like and which ones you don’t.’
She smiled. ‘That works for me. Efharisto.’
He froze, the sound of his mother tongue so erotically charged coming from her that he forgot to breathe. ‘You’re learning Greek?’
‘I work for a Greek company. It seems wise to learn a few essential words like thank you and where the hell is the coffee? I find some of the pronunciations qu
ite hard, though.’
‘Let me know what you have difficulty with and I’ll teach you.’ Again the words slipped out before he could stop them.
What in heaven’s name was wrong with him?
Mentally shaking his head, he recited the dishes he wanted prepared to the waiter and added a command for haste.
They discussed the Bermuda resort and her initial ideas. The passion she exhibited for business made him glad he’d offered her the chance. So much so, he slightly regretted it when their meal arrived and intruded on the atmosphere. Small platters of roasted vegetables, tenderly prepared meats served on a bed of traditional salad, hummus and oven-baked breads.
He watched her dig into the food with the same gusto she’d eaten that night at his apartment in London. Then, as now, he’d found her appetite refreshing.
Recalling her comment earlier about putting on weight, Ari’s gaze slid to her breasts. They looked slightly heavier, plumper than they had in London, and her cleavage seemed deeper.
Warmth rushed into his mouth that had nothing to do with the sumptuous textures of the food and everything to do with recalling the exquisite taste of her hard nipples on his tongue. He forced his gaze away. Only to snap it back to her when she made a sound of distress.
Her eyes had widened and she was reaching for her water. ‘Um...Ari...I don’t feel so good.’
Ari frowned and he jerked to his feet. ‘What’s wrong? What is it?’
She dropped her glass and water splashed across the table. In one move, he was by her side, pushing her chair back so he could take her face in his hands.
‘Perla?’
She jumped up and looked around wildly, drawing the attention of other diners. She must have spotted the signs for the lavatory because she grabbed her bag and lurched forward.
‘Excuse me.’ She clamped her hand over her mouth and fled.
CHAPTER NINE
THE DEBILITATING WEAKNESS was back again, weighting her limbs down and fanning a dull ache throughout her body.
But it was nothing compared to the crushing weight of suspicion anchoring her heart.
No matter how much she tried to push the thought away, it kept coming back, intruding, demanding to be heard, to be acknowledged.
Perla cast a furtive glance at the man who stood beside her in the hotel lift, his hand gripping her arm. He hadn’t said a word since they left the restaurant. He’d been there when she emerged from the Ladies, pale, weak and shaky, barely able to meet his gaze when he’d enquired whether she wanted to leave.
The restaurant staff had been profusely apologetic but she hadn’t had the courage to reassure them that what was going on was most likely not the fault of their food. She’d left the soothing of ruffled feathers to Ari, simply because she hadn’t been able to think past the stark reality of what she could be facing.
They exited the lift and she followed him numbly. It wasn’t until they were inside the suite that was easily three times the size of hers that she realised they hadn’t returned to her suite but to his. He bypassed the living room, the study and the master bedroom and entered a second bedroom.
Before her stood what was easily an emperor-sized bed, complete with solid four-posters and cream silk muslin curtains. A bathroom and walk-in closet were visible through a golden-lit arch and beyond the windows Washington DC shone its powerful light over the city.
Her gaze returned from sweeping the room to find Ari standing with his hands on his hips, those mesmerising eyes fixed questioningly on hers.
‘There’s a new toothbrush through there if you need to use it?’
She nodded, dropped her clutch on the bed and darted into the bathroom. The need to escape was less to do with cleaning her mouth properly and more to do with delaying the inevitable.
Quickly, she brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth. Then gripped the edge of the sink as a fresh wave of apprehension rolled through her.
Arion Pantelides wasn’t stupid. The knowledge in his eyes told her his thoughts had taken the same path as hers.
‘Perla.’
She jumped and whirled so fast, her vision blurred.
Callused hands steadied her, one curving around her waist and the other rising to cradle her cheek for a moment before he dropped his hand.
‘Come.’
The gentle gesture threatened her equilibrium and she fought not to react as he led her back to the room and sank onto the bed beside her. He’d discarded his jacket and folded back the sleeves of his shirt.
The sight of the silky hairs on his forearm made sensation scythe through her but it was the look in his eyes that stopped her breath.
His fingers trembled as they caught her chin and an emotion moved through her heart she was almost too afraid to examine. ‘How do you feel?’ he asked in a low, deep voice.
Something in his tone made her glance at him. His face had lost a few shades of vibrancy and in his eyes dark, unfathomable shadows lurked.
Whatever was ahead of them, Perla knew it wouldn’t be an easy road.
‘I...I’m...’ Her throat felt swollen and scratchy so she stopped.
‘Here, have some water.’ He passed her a glass and waited while she took a few sips. His gaze never left her and, feeling her hands begin to shake, she put the glass down.
Trepidation welled up inside her. ‘Ari...’
More colour leached from his face. ‘Before you say anything, Perla, I need you to be one hundred per cent sure.’
The depth of emotion in his voice made her heart flip over, then thunder with enough force to threaten her ribs. ‘Why?’ she asked before she could stop herself.
‘Because the ramifications would mean more than you could ever imagine.’ The roughness in his voice and the faint trembling of the hand still at her waist made her insides quake.
Incomprehensible emotions swirled around inside her. Unbidden, tears welled up in her eyes and slipped down her cheeks.
‘Theos, do not cry. Please,’ he ordered raggedly.
‘Sorry, I’m not normally a crier,’ she muttered, then cringed as more tears fell. ‘I just can’t seem to help myself.’
He gritted his teeth and brushed her cheeks with his thumbs, then stared down at her with dark eyes but said nothing as the tears continued to fall.
The knock on the door made him turn away but not before she caught another glimpse of jagged torment in his eyes. ‘The doctor’s here.’
‘The doctor?’ When had he even called him? ‘Ari, I don’t need a doctor. I feel fine.’
He stood and stared at her for a long moment before he shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘I can send him away if that’s what you want. But I think we need to make absolutely sure that you’re not coming down with an illness. That is not negotiable. So we can do it now or we can do it tomorrow. Your choice.’
She gripped the covers, the feeling of hurtling towards the unknown growing by the second. But Ari was right. They needed to be sure nothing else was wrong before they went any further.
She nodded. ‘Okay, we do it now.’
He left the room and returned moments later followed by a tall, lanky man with brown hair and serious brown eyes. He proceeded to look her over and fire questions at her that made her cringe. Ari stood, hand in his pocket next to the bed the whole time, his eyes never leaving her.
‘The headache and fatigue worries me a bit, and your glands are slightly swollen,’ the doctor finally said. ‘My advice is to rest for a few days—’
‘Yes, she’ll do that—’
‘No, she won’t,’ she countered sharply with a frown which he returned twice as hard and twice as dangerous. ‘I’m not sick, Ari. Seriously, I’ll be fine by morning.’
The doctor looked between them, clearly sensing the undercurrents. ‘Or I can give you a f
lu shot just in case? Head it off at the pass?’
At her nod, he opened his bag and took out the needle. She tensed and tried to curb her nerves but Ari’s narrowed gaze told her he’d seen her reaction.
Rounding the bed, he slid in beside her and pulled her close, his warm, hard body a solid comfort. ‘You fear needles and yet you’re refusing the simple alternative.’
‘I’ll take a small prick any day compared to days lazing about in bed.’
The small charged silence that followed gave her time to hear her words echo in the room. Then a fierce blush washed over her face.
The doctor hid a smile as he focused on preparing the syringe. Ari’s mocking laughter lightened the tense atmosphere a touch, although she could feel his tension. ‘It’s not gentlemanly to laugh at a harmless double entendre. Especially when it comes at the patient’s expense.’
He blinked and his gaze dropped to her mouth.
This close, his designer stubble was within touching distance and the gold flecks in his eyes and the sensual curve of his mouth were even more mesmerising. The hand he’d slipped around her tightened, drawing her infinitesimally closer to his body. Heat oozed through her, breaking loose that wild yearning she seemed to be useless at keeping sealed up.
The doctor clearing his throat made her jump. The needle filled with liquid was poised against her skin. ‘Stop! Will this harm a pregnancy?’ she blurted.
Beside her, Ari tensed.
The doctor frowned. ‘Are you pregnant, Miss Lowell?’
‘It’s Mrs...actually,’ she murmured absently as her gaze swung and collided with Ari’s. In that moment, she knew.
And so did he.
The doctor moved. With a swiftness that stunned the breath out of her, Ari grabbed the doctor’s needle-holding hand and held it in a death grip. All without taking his eyes from hers.
‘So you’re sure?’ he rasped.