Alix barely looked at it. He speared her with that grey gaze and said, ‘I want to take you out to dinner.’
Panic fluttered in Leila’s gut and her hand tightened on the envelope, crushing it. ‘What did you say?’
He pushed open his light overcoat to put his hands in his pockets, drawing attention to another pristine three-piece suit, lovingly moulded to muscles that did not belong to an urban civilised man, more to a warrior.
‘I said I would like you to join me for dinner.’
Leila frowned. ‘But you have a mistress.’
Something stern crossed Alix Saint Croix’s face and the grey in his eyes turned to steel. ‘She is no longer my mistress.’
Leila recalled what she’d seen the previous night and blurted out, ‘But I saw you—you were together—’ She stopped and couldn’t curb the heat rising. The last thing she wanted was for him to know she’d been spying, and she said quickly, ‘She certainly seemed to be under the impression that you were together.’
She hoped he’d assume she was referring to when she’d seen the woman waiting for him outside the shop.
Alix’s face was
indecipherable. ‘As I said, we are no longer together.’
Leila felt desperate. And disgusted. And disappointed, which was even worse. Of course a man like him would interchange his women without breaking a sweat.
‘But I don’t even know you—you’re a total stranger.’
His mouth twitched slightly. ‘Which could be helped by sharing conversation over dinner, non?’
Leila had a very strong urge to back away, but forced herself to stand her ground. She was in her shop. Her space. And everything in her screamed at her to resist this man. He was too gorgeous, too big, too smooth, too famous...too much.
Something reckless gripped her and she blurted out, ‘I saw you. The two of you... I didn’t intend to, but when I looked out of my window last night I saw you in your room. With her. She was taking off her clothes...’
Leila willed down the embarrassed heat and tilted up her chin defiantly. She didn’t care if he thought she was some kind of stalker.
His gaze narrowed on her. ‘I saw you too...across the square, silhouetted in your window.’
Now she blanched. ‘You did?’
He nodded. ‘It merely confirmed that I wanted you. And not her.’
Leila was caught, trapped in his gaze and in his own confession. ‘You pulled the curtain across. For privacy.’
His mouth firmed. ‘Yes. For privacy while I asked her to put her dress back on and get out, because the relationship was over.’
Leila shivered at his coolness. ‘But that’s so cruel. You’d just bought her a gift.’
Something infinitely cynical lit those grey eyes and Leila hated it.
‘Believe me, a woman like Carmen is no soft-centred fool with notions of where the relationship was going. She knew it was finite. The relationship was ending whether I’d met you or not.’
Leila balked. She definitely veered more towards the soft-centred fool end of the scale.
She folded her arms and fought the pull from her gut to follow him blindly. She’d done that with a man once before, with her stupid, vulnerable heart on her sleeve. It made her hard now. ‘Thank you for the invitation, but I’m afraid I must say no.’
His brows snapped together in a frown. ‘Are you married?’
His gaze dropped to her left hand as if to look for a ring, and something flashed in his eyes when he took in her ringless fingers. Leila’s hands curled tight. Too late.
The personal question told her she was doing the right thing and she said frostily, ‘That is none of your business, sir. I’d like you to leave.’
For a tiny moment Alix Saint Croix’s eyes widened on her, and then he said coolly, ‘Very well, I’m sorry for disturbing you. Good evening, Miss Verughese.’