‘Having fun?’
Tessa’s hand spasmed at the sound of that deep, mocking voice and the dice clattered to the board. She jerked her head round to find Stavros pacing slowly towards her.
Like a rabbit caught in a spotlight she stared, unable to move, as he halted beside her. Close enough for her to see the rise and fall of his muscled chest under the silk business shirt. For her to discern the steady tic of his pulse at the base of his throat, where he’d tugged open his tie and undone the first couple of buttons.
But it wasn’t the proximity of his powerful body that snared her gaze. It was the predatory intensity of his eyes. They were simmering hot, glazed with strong emotion.
And they scared her.
His eyes were dark charcoal-grey as they flicked from her face, down her body and back up again. That look grazed her skin, heating it to unwilling awareness. But more, his gaze seemed to devour her. As if she were some tasty morsel served up for Stavros Denakis’ delectation.
She shivered as the hairs stood up on the back of her neck, then watched his slow, deliberate smile as he held her eyes with his.
He knew how he intimidated her, and he enjoyed it!
Her hands were clammy with sweat as she sat up straighter, ready to defend herself. He might be bigger and more powerful than she, but she’d fight tooth and nail if she had to.
‘The girl learns fast,’ said Vassilis Denakis from across the table. ‘With practice she’ll be an adversary to be reckoned with.’
Tessa shot a surprised look across the table at the unreadable face of the old man who’d been a surprisingly pleasant companion this afternoon. He was watching his son intently, as if to assess the impact of his words.
‘It wouldn’t pay to underestimate her,’ he added.
‘There’s little chance of that, Patera. A man would be a fool not to treat this woman with the utmost caution.’
Despite her anxiety, Tessa felt her hackles rise at being referred to as if she weren’t there.
‘I’ve enjoyed our game.’ She turned to Vassilis Denakis with a tentative smile, knowing that their quiet interlude was over. ‘Thank you for teaching me.’
‘The pleasure was entirely mine.’ He inclined his head in a courtly gesture that surprised her. It seemed that the Denakis men could be charming if they chose. Or at least this one could.
She was all too conscious of Stavros looming beside her, vibrating with impatience and something darker, more dangerous, that she wanted to avoid at all costs.
‘I’ll look forward to our next game,’ the old man added.
Tessa flicked an urgent glance at Stavros, but his attention now was on his father, his brows slightly raised.
It was her chance to get away from the fraught atmosphere and the giant of a man who menaced her with barely an effort. She pushed back her chair, careless of it scraping across the broad tiles.
‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you two to catch up. I need to go and…’
‘Yes, Tessa?’ Stavros’ deep voice stroked across her skin, like rough suede. ‘What is it that you must do?’
She tilted her head up, up, till she met his eyes and managed not to flinch as his scorching gaze captured hers.
Desperately her heart thudded out a panicky beat. She swallowed hard and smoothed her clammy hands down her cotton trousers.
‘I have to go and wash my hair.’
Let him make what he liked of that!
She rose, concentrating on trying to appear confident and at ease. All the while her nerves jittered in distress.
With a nod to Vassilis Denakis and a cold stare at his son, she forced herself to walk slowly across the massive room and out towards the main foyer. It wasn’t until she was halfway up the impressive staircase that her resolve splintered and she stumbled into a run, desperate to reach the sanctuary of her room.
Tessa was in the bathroom, unpinning her hair, when an atavistic presentiment that she was being watched shivered through her. Her hands froze, the weight of her hair sliding down in a lopsided tumble, as the skin of her neck tingled and she spun round to face the door to the bedroom.
He’d discarded his tie and jacket, rolled up his sleeves and stood, one forearm propped casually against the door jamb just above his head. But there was nothing casual about the look on Stavros Denakis’ face. It wasn’t a scowl, yet she felt disapproval emanate from him in waves. And more. Something urgent and powerful that made her want to shrink away. But there was nowhere to run. She was trapped.
Tessa’s pulse notched up as she fought the primitive impulse to flee. The only way out was past him and the look in his eye told her he wasn’t ready to let her go anywhere just yet.
What did he want?