He laughed softly. ‘Fine. Miss Hargreaves.’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘Just Annie. I’m begging you.’
He lifted his sunglasses so she could see his eyes—one was blue and the other brown. ‘Fine, Annie. If you insist.’
‘I do.’ It was a small victory, but it felt important that Annie should hold on to the essence of who she was for as long as possible. ‘Thank you. Now, where’s Dimitrios?’
With a nod, Henderson gestured to a pair of shiny black glass doors. Annie stopped walking, her breath hitching in her throat as she read the word boldly emblazoned in the signage above. The name was world-famous, synonymous with luxury and prestige. It was the kind of shop she’d never even walked past, far less thought of entering.
‘Why?’ she asked Henderson, a tone of pleading in her voice.
Henderson smiled, but didn’t respond.
Annie stifled a groan but started walking once more, one foot in front of the other, until they reached the doors. Henderson lifted his hand to a buzzer, pressed it and then they waited.
It took only a couple of seconds before the doors whooshed inwards, revealing a shining floor made of large marble tiles, high ceilings, ornate chandeliers dangling from the ceiling and an army of at least ten staff standing in a group. And beside them, Dimitrios, impeccably dressed in one of his custom-made suits with shining shoes, dark hair waved back from his brow, eyes on Annie with a singular focus that made a hint of perspiration form in the valley of her breasts. She was grateful then for Henderson at her side.
‘Annabelle.’ Dimitrios strode towards her, drawing her into his arms. His eyes glittered with hers, giving Annie only a moment of warning before he dropped his head and crushed his lips to hers, kissing her with an excellent approximation of fierce possession.
She knew it was just for the benefit of their audience, but that didn’t change anything. She felt the flicker of desire in the pit of her stomach and, before she could stop it, full-blown need was coursing through her veins. Her arms lifted of their own accord, one hand pressing to his chest, the other curling around the nape of his neck, her fingers teasing the dark hair there, holding him where he was. His tongue expertly duelled with hers, reminding her of his mastery over her, the ease with which he’d driven her senseless with longing all those years ago.
That should have been enough of a reminder. It should have made her put an end to the kiss. But her body was in complete control and it wanted him with a ferocity that was too hard to bear.
His arm curved around her back, as though he knew she needed his support, and he held her there as he lifted his head, his eyes boring into hers, his expression impossible to interpret. But his cheeks were darker than normal, slashed along the ridges of his bones, and she knew he had been as stirred by their kiss as she had been.
‘What was that?’ she asked, wishing she felt angrier, more outraged, when all she could muster was disbelief that it had ended so quickly.
‘Remember, agape,’ he said quietly, then lowered his head so only she could hear the rest of his sentence. ‘All the world believes this is a love match. Try to play along.’
It was the ice water she needed, the stark dose of reality to bring sense back to her addled mind.
‘Of course, darling.’ She mimicked his tone, forcing an over-bright smile to her face.
‘Thank you for meeting me here,’ he murmured, taking hold of her hand and weaving their fingers together.
‘Did I have a choice?’ she queried, without letting her smile drop, her voice just a whisper.
His eyes held a warning. ‘Not really.’
He began to walk towards the staff, who had been discreetly looking away from the couple. A man stepped forward. ‘Madam, it is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Gustav and I am the manager of the Sydney store. Mr Papandreo has asked me to help you this morning with anything you might require.’
Annie wrinkled her nose, looking around the high-end boutique with a burgeoning and unwelcome sense of inadequacy. ‘Honestly, I don’t know how you can help me,’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t really shop in places like this.’
‘Then that has been our loss,’ the manager inserted charmingly. ‘Now, let’s get to work.’
All the staff scattered except the manager, who asked Annie, ‘Now, champagne and an almond croissant?’
It was on the tip of her tongue to point out that it was just after nine o’clock in the morning, when she thought about how welcome a glass of bubbly would be, given the over-wrought state of her nerves. ‘Just a little,’ she conceded, nodding a little.
‘Excellent. And for you, sir?’
‘Coffee.’
‘Very good.’
When the manager disappeared, they were completely alone, Henderson waited by the doors with his arms crossed, the last word in forbidding.
‘Where are all the other customers?’