When she looked up Adoni had tilted his head to one side as if to view her better. ‘And what about your long-term lover? Or doesn’t he count?’
‘Long-term lover? I don’t have a lover.’
He leaned forward, teeth bared in what might have passed for a smile if it didn’t make Alice think of a ravening wolf. Even his teeth were white and almost perfectly straight!
‘That’s not what I hear. In fact I’m informed you’re afemme fatale, living off gullible men.’
Alice shook her head, bemused. ‘You’ve got me confused with someone else.’
‘No.You’vegotmeconfused with someone who’d fall for your lies.’
‘I’m not lying! I never had a lover before...you.’
Where had all this animosity come from? She’d shared things with Adoni Petrakis that she’d never shared with anyone. She wouldn’t have known him for the same man who’d laughed with her and made love so wonderfully.
‘Really? What about David Bannister? I hear you lived with him for years.’
‘David?’ She frowned, sitting back in her seat. ‘How did you...?’ Alice shook her head. It didn’t matter how he knew, just that he’d misunderstood. ‘You’ve got it wrong. David was a friend.’
‘A very dear friend. Much older and very wealthy.’ Cynicism dripped from every syllable.
‘That had nothing to do with—’
‘It seems to be a habit of yours, makingfriendswith older, wealthy men. Like when you barged into my private space.’ He leaned nearer, his gaze needle-sharp. ‘Did someone tell you that night that I owned the hotel? Or had you been planning your approach for some time?’
‘No!’ Alice threw up one hand, trying to stem the flow of accusations. ‘You’ve got it all wrong. I’m not like that.’ Her breath came in short, hard gasps. If it weren’t so appallingly horrible, it would have been absurd. Her, as a gold-digger! ‘Whoever told you about David made a mistake.’
Adoni’s lip curled. ‘Which is what I’d expect you to say.’
The feral light in his eyes, the cruel twist of his mouth and the furious rasp of that deep-pitched voice cut through Alice’s composure. Suddenly she felt not indignant but anxious. It was clear mere words wouldn’t convince him.
Once, maybe, she’d have stood her ground and made him eat his words. But she’d changed. Maybe it was exhaustion from her first ever bout of full-blown morning sickness on the train this morning. Or the primal need to remove her unborn child from the vicinity of danger. But suddenly she was on her feet, putting the chair between her and the man giving off such waves of aggression.
The door opened and his secretary came in, carrying a tray with cups and a cafetière. The woman slanted a surprised look at Alice, then placed the tray on a low table, said something to her boss and left.
Alice pried her fingers off the back of the chair and turned to follow her, feeling as if every move took far too much effort. Stress, she assured herself.
She’d only taken a few steps when the scent of coffee hit her. Good strong, aromatic coffee. The sort she’d once loved.
Bile rose in her throat and she gagged. She froze, one hand going to her stomach and the other to her mouth. Time splintered as she fought against the indignity of vomiting here, in front of this inimical stranger.
Then Adoni was standing before her, those winged eyebrows scrunched in concern. ‘What is it? You look grey.’
‘Coffee,’ she whispered. ‘The smell.’
For a second he stood, uncomprehending, then he whipped round, grabbed the tray and carried it out.
When he got back Alice had found his private bathroom. Her hands were braced on the edge of the black marble basin and she was shaking. She hadn’t been ill this time but it had been a close call. Nausea still hovered and her mouth tasted of acid.
Studiously she avoided her image in the mirror. Instead she took slow breaths, willing the nausea to subside.
‘Alice?’ His voice was deep and soft. If she closed her eyes she could almost believe herself back in his luxury hotel suite when he’d been charming and gentle.
She sucked in a hiss of air then croaked, ‘I’ll be okay in a minute.’
Silence extended, then she heard running water. A moment later damp towelling settled on the nape of her neck, cool and surprisingly refreshing. Without hesitation she let her head droop forward, accepting his ministrations.
After a couple of minutes he murmured, ‘Turn,’ and it seemed natural to comply. Still with eyes shut, she leant back against the basin while the damp cloth traced her cheeks and mouth, her forehead and throat.