He stared at her steadily. ‘Depends on the stranger.’
She felt the knot in her belly twist.
It was easier to be around him when he was angry. Safer. Cleaner. There wasn’t any muddying of emotion. Her chest tightened as he leaned forward to pour some more coffee. It was even safer when he wasn’t sitting so close. Because he smelled so good it made her want to breathe him in, to bottle him...
‘Perhaps we could say you were rescuing me from a difficult guest,’ she said, inching back in her chair.
The corners of his mouth curved very slightly. ‘Like I said, we should stick as closely to the truth as possible. Maybe play around with a Cinderella-style narrative.’
That was a good idea. Perfect in every way, Effie thought. Except, of course, Prince Charming and Cinderella’s marriage was based on love, not lies.
It took another hour before Achileas was satisfied with the start they’d made. ‘Obviously we’ll go over it again.’ He finished his coffee. ‘But we don’t want to sound too scripted.’
She nodded. It was easy to see why he was so successful. He was meticulous and focused, but he also had an ability to take a step back and see the big picture. In other words, he was more than just a pretty face. And that face was more than pretty. ‘Pretty’ was slight and ephemeral. Achileas Kane was beautiful. Unequivocally. In a way that transcended human limitations.
‘Is there a problem?’
Looking up, she found herself impaled by his disturbingly intense gaze and, horrified that he might read her thoughts—that last thought in particular—she shook her head. ‘No, I was just wondering how you ended up owning this island?’
He shifted back in his chair, his fingers tapping against the handle of his coffee cup. ‘The usual way,’ he said finally. ‘I saw it. I wanted it. I bought it.’
Her stomach clenched. Was that what had happened outside the Stanmore too?
In a way, yes. And yet at the hotel he had simply seen the maid’s uniform and not the woman inside. And afterwards he had only registered the details that mattered to him. Her lack of money. Her ability to keep her head. That was the Effie he’d seen and wanted. The Effie he had bought.
Everything else was of no interest to him.
Her pulse jerked as his phone began to vibrate against the table. He snatched it up, his lip curling like a wolf protecting its kill.
‘Wait!’he snapped into the mouthpiece as he got to his feet. ‘I have to take this, and then I have some other calls to make, so I won’t be joining you for lunch, but we can finish up later.’ His eyes found hers. ‘Stay away from the cliffs. In fact, don’t go wandering off again,’ he said, in that imperious way that was as much a part of him as breathing. ‘If you want to swim, use the pool.’
‘I can’t swim,’ she said quickly. Not really...not out of her depth anyway.
He stared at her blankly, as if she had suddenly admitted to sleeping upside down in a tree. ‘In that case, stay away from the pool too.’ He glanced down at her face; his brow creased. ‘It’ll get hot this afternoon—much hotter than this—so keep out of the sun. Can’t have you overheating.’
He leaned forward and she felt a wave of heat wash over her skin as he caught the brim of her hat and straightened it.
‘After all, you’ll be no use to me if you get sunstroke,’ he added softly.
She watched him leave, her heart beating heavily in her chest, feeling stupid. Just for a few half-seconds she had thought he cared about her as a person. But he’d just been thinking about his own agenda. And now he had upped and gone.
Only what had she expected?
That he would stay and spend time with her because...? Because what? Because of that kiss?
The memory rose up inside her...more than a memory. It was tactile, scorching a path through her as if it had just happened. And then she remembered that look of dark impatience on his face and she shivered inside.
Stupid, stupid Effie.
It hadn’t been real. She knew that. Knew, too, that it didn’t matter that she was no longer wearing a uniform. When Achileas looked at her he still saw a chambermaid. Somebody paid to make everything look perfect.
Only instead of rearranging the contents of his mini bar or turning down the sheets on his bed, she was here to turn his life into a storybook romance.
She felt a spark of defiance. This was her life too, and maybe he was investing in her business, but he was wrong if he thought that made her just an investment.
He was right about the temperature, though.
It was getting hotter. And hotter.