why he’d forgotten you didn’t talk family business in front of strangers. ‘We can use one of the offices here at the gallery—they’re very accommodating,’ he added smoothly. ‘The owner is a friend of mine.’
‘But Keeley—’
‘Oh, don’t worry about Keeley. I’m sure she has the imagination to take care of herself. There’s plenty for her to look at.’ Ariston turned to give her a hard version of a smile, noticing that her knuckles had suddenly whitened as she clutched her thin shawl. For the first time he spoke directly to her, dropping his voice to a silken murmur which his business rivals would have recognised as being a tone you didn’t mess with. ‘And plenty of men hanging around who would be all too happy to take my brother’s place. In fact, I can see a couple watching you right now. I’m sure you could have a lot of fun with them, Keeley. You really mustn’t let us keep you any longer.’
Keeley felt her face freeze as Ariston spoke to her, wishing she could come up with a suitably crushing response to throw at the powerful Greek who was looking at her as if she was a stain on the pale floorboards and talking to her as if she was some kind of hooker. But the truth was that she didn’t trust herself to speak—afraid that her words would come out as meaningless babble. Because that was the effect he had on her. The effect he had on all women. Even when he was talking to them—or should she say at them?—with utter contempt in his eyes, he could reduce them to a level of longing which wasn’t like the stuff you felt around most men. He could make you have fantasies about him, even though he exuded nothing but darkness.
She’d seen the way her own mother had looked at him. She could see the other women in the gallery watching him now—their gazes hungry but wary—as if they were observing a different type of species and weren’t sure how to handle him. As if they realised they should stay well away but were itching to touch him all the same. And she could hardly judge them for that, could she? Because hadn’t she flung herself at him? Pressed her body hard against his and longed for him to take away the aching deep inside her. Behaved like a cheap little fool by misinterpreting a simple gesture on his part and managing to make a bad situation even worse.
The last time she’d seen him her life had pretty much imploded and eight years later she was still dealing with the fallout. Keeley’s mouth tightened. Because she’d come through far too much to let the arrogant billionaire make her feel bad about herself. She suspected that the mocking challenge sparking from his blue eyes was intended to make her excuse herself and disappear, but she wasn’t going to do that. A quiet rebellion began to build inside her. Did he really think he had the power to kick her out of this public gallery, as once he had kicked her off his private island?
‘I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,’ she said, seeing his eyes darken with anger. ‘I’m quite happy looking at photographs of Lasia. I’d forgotten just what a beautiful island it was and I can certainly keep myself occupied until you get back.’ She smiled. ‘I’ll wait here for you, Pavlos. Take as long as you like.’
It clearly wasn’t the response Ariston wanted and she saw the irritation which hardened his beautiful features.
‘As you wish,’ he said tightly. ‘Though I cannot guarantee how long we’ll be.’
She met his cold blue stare with a careless smile. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’m not in any hurry.’
He shrugged. ‘Very well. Come, Pavlos.’
He began to walk away with his brother by his side and, although she told herself to look away, Keeley could do nothing but stand and stare, just like everyone else in the gallery.
She’d forgotten how tall and rugged he was because she had forced herself to forget—to purge her memory of a sensuality which had affected her like no other. But now it was all coming back. The olive skin and tendrils of hair which brushed so blackly against his shirt collar. Yet she thought he seemed uncomfortable in the exquisite grey suit he wore. His muscular body looked constrained—as if he was more at home wearing the sawn-off denims he’d worn on Lasia. The ones which had emphasised his powerful thighs as he’d dived deep into the sapphire waters surrounding his island home. And it suddenly occurred to her that it didn’t matter what he wore or what he said because nothing had changed. Not really. You saw him and you wanted him, it was as simple as that. She thought how cruel life could be—as if she needed any reminding—that the only man she’d ever desired was someone who made no secret about despising her.
With an effort, she tore her gaze away and forced herself to focus on a photograph which showed the island which had been in the Kavakos family for generations. Lasia was known as the paradise of the Cyclades with good reason and Keeley had felt as if she’d tumbled into paradise the moment she’d first set foot on its silvery sands. She had explored its surprisingly lush interior with delight until her mother’s startling fall from grace had led to their visit being cut brutally short. She would never forget the hordes of press and the flash of cameras in their faces as they’d alighted from the boat which had taken them back to Piraeus. Or the screaming headlines when they’d arrived back in England—and the cringe-making interviews her mother had given afterwards, which had only made matters worse. Keeley had been tainted by the scandal—an unwilling victim of circumstances beyond her control—and the knock-on effect had continued to this day.
Wasn’t it that which had made her come here this afternoon—to meet up with Pavlos and remind herself of the beauty of the place? As if by doing that she could draw a line under the past and have some kind of closure? She’d hoped she might be able to eradicate some of the awful memories and replace them with better ones. She’d seen a picture of Ariston in the paper, attending the opening night, with some gorgeous redhead clinging like a vine to his arm. She certainly hadn’t expected him to show up here today. Would she have come if she had known?
Of course she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t have set foot within a million miles of the place.
‘Keeley?’
She turned around to find that Pavlos was back—with Ariston standing slightly behind him, not bothering to disguise the triumph curving his lips as his gaze clashed with hers.
‘Hi,’ she said, aware that the blue burn of his eyes was making her skin grow hot. ‘You weren’t long.’
A look of regret passed over Pavlos’s face and somehow Keeley knew what was coming.
‘No. I know I wasn’t. Look, I’m afraid I’m going to have to bail out, Keeley,’ he said. ‘And take a rain check. Ariston needs me to fly out to the Middle East and take care of a ship.’
‘What, now?’ questioned Keeley, before she could stop herself.
‘This very second,’ put in Ariston silkily before adding, ‘Should he have checked with you first?’
Pavlos bent to brush a brief kiss over each of her cheeks before giving her a quick smile. ‘I’ll message you later. Okay?’
‘Sure.’ She stood and watched him leave, aware that Ariston was still standing behind her but not trusting herself even to look at him. Instead, she tried very hard to concentrate on the photo she’d been studying—a sheltered bay where you could just make out shapes of giant turtles swimming in the crystal-clear waters. Perhaps he might just take the hint and go away. Leave her alone so that she could get to work on forgetting him all over again.
‘I can’t quite work out whether you are completely oblivious to my presence,’ he said, in his dark, accented voice, ‘or whether you just get a kick out of ignoring me.’
He had moved closer to stand beside her and Keeley lifted her gaze to find herself caught in that piercing sapphire stare and the resulting rush of blood went straight to her head. And her breasts. She could feel them become heavy and aching as the slow beat of her blood engorged them. Her mouth dried. How did he do that? Her fingers had grown numb and she was feeling almost dizzy but somehow she managed to compose a cool sentence. ‘Why, do women always notice you whenever you walk into a room?’
‘What do you think?’
And