not this man.
‘I’ve done you a favour. Your father will realise you’re serious about wanting your independence. And before you get all sanctimonious can I remind you again that you came to me?’ he said flatly. ‘I didn’t kidnap you, force you into a dress and thrust a glass of champagne in your hand. You were the one who begged me for money and you were pretty much willing to do anything to get it, I might add. If you cast your mind back to your drunken episode my behaviour was impeccable. You did everything you could to seduce me and I said no.’
Humiliation piled onto anger and misery. ‘You’re just a saint.’
‘I never claimed to be a saint. You were the one who came to me in a nun’s outfit with ridiculous expectations.’
She stared at him, mute, seeing the uncomfortable truth in everything he was saying. It had been her decision to come. Her decision to drink champagne. Her decision to kiss him and go to bed with him.
She’d wanted so badly to be able to make her own decisions and all she’d done was make bad ones. Lonely and desperate, she’d built him up in her mind as some sort of perfect being and the truth was a horrible blow.
He’d used her to score points against her father and she was the one who would pay the price. And her mother.
Thinking of it made her limbs shake. ‘You’re right, of course. From now on I’ll be making more careful decisions. And the first will be to stay away from men like you. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? You wanted me to be more cynical. Well, now I am. I’m officially cynical.’
His features taut, he stepped towards her. ‘Selene—’
‘Don’t touch me. You only invited me to the party because you knew it would upset him.’
‘That isn’t true. I invited you to the party because you’re sexy as hell and your innocence was—refreshing.’
‘Well, I’m not innocent any more.’
‘You are overreacting. This will be to your advantage. Once he realises you’re serious about being independent and making your business a success he’ll let you go.’ Those wide shoulders lifted in a dismissive shrug. ‘I’ve done you a favour. There’s no point in rebelling if no one knows you’re rebelling.’
‘I’ve told you this isn’t about rebellion. It was never about rebellion.’ Selene could hardly breathe as her mind ran swiftly through the possible consequences.
‘If you allow your father to bully you, he will always bully you.’
‘You have no idea. No idea what you’ve done. No idea of the consequences that this will have.’ Galvanised into action, she stumbled around the room, gathering her things and stuffing them frantically into her bag. ‘I have to leave, right now. Is there a ferry from here?’ How long did she have? How long? She was panicking too much to make the calculation and truthfully it was impossible to know because she didn’t know what time her father would have seen the photographs.
He swore under his breath. ‘You need to calm down—’
‘When would these photos have come out? What time?’ Someone, somewhere would have seen them. She was sure of that. Her father was so paranoid and self-absorbed that he had whole teams of people scouring the media for mentions of himself. The moment the images had appeared on the internet someone would have seen them and would have told him. She had no doubt that he already knew everything. Nothing escaped him—especially something as catastrophic as this.
‘I don’t understand why you’re so concerned. I’ve already told you I’m giving you the money. You’ll be able to have the lifestyle you want. Buy what you like without your father’s approval.’
All the money in the world would be useless if she couldn’t get her mother away from the island. ‘What time?’
Stefan flicked his gaze back to the screen of his phone. ‘This one was posted around midnight.’
‘Midnight?’ Hours ago. And she’d been lying in his bed, basking in the ability to make her own choices, unaware that she’d made nothing but bad ones. Fear gripped her like a nasty virus. She felt dizzy with it. Sick. ‘If my father saw these at midnight then that means—’ He might already be on his way back to the island and her mother was alone and unprotected. ‘I have to leave now.’
Stefan swore under his breath and reached out his hand but she flinched away from him, flattening herself against the wall.
‘Get away from me. Don’t pretend you care about me,’ she mumbled. ‘I know you don’t. I don’t ever want you to touch me again.’
‘Fine. I won’t touch you.’ He spoke through clenched teeth. ‘But at least stand still and look at me. The way to handle this is not to sprint home like a good, obedient girl.’
‘You have no idea. You have no idea what you’ve done.’
‘At worst I’ve annoyed your father and reinforced the message that you want to be independent.’
‘You might have taken that opportunity away from me—’ Her throat was thick with tears. If her father returned home before her, her mother would be too afraid to leave. She’d lose her nerve as she’d lost it so many times before. ‘I want to leave. Now.’
‘Fine, if that’s what you want. Run home. That’s clearly where you belong. You’re a child, not a woman.’ Stefan’s face was a frozen mask as he strode across the room and opened a safe concealed in the wall. ‘I promised you money. I always keep my promises.’
‘Because you’re such a good guy?’
‘No.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Not because of that. Call my office any time you need business help.’ He dropped the money into her bag and strode towards the door. ‘I’ll arrange for your transport home.’
‘STEFAN, are you even listening to me?’
Stefan turned his gaze from the window of his Athens office to his lawyer, Kostas. ‘Pardon?’
‘Have you heard a word I’ve been saying? I’ve been telling you that Baxter has agreed to all our terms. We’ve been working on this deal for over a year. We should celebrate.’
Stefan didn’t feel like celebrating. He listened to his friend offer profuse congratulations, his mind preoccupied with Selene.
What the hell had possessed him to sleep with someone as inexperienced as her?
Her overreaction to the news of the photographs had made him realise how young she was. She’d said she wanted independence, but then freaked out at the thought of her father finding out.
Clearly surprised by the lack of response, Kostas paused. ‘Don’t you want to hear the details?’
‘No. I pay you an exorbitant amount to handle details for me.’
Was it the sex that had made her panic? Remembering the bruises made him shift in his seat but nothing relieved the guilt. He’d never bruised a woman before. A love-bite maybe, but not bruises like those. They were finger-marks, caused by someone grabbing her too roughly, and the worst thing was he had no recollection of doing it.
Kostas closed the file. ‘Do you want to meet him in person?’
‘Meet who in person?’
Stefan went through their encounter in minute detail, trying to identify when exactly he’d hurt her. He’d been gentle with her. Careful. At no point had he been rough and yet somehow he’d caused those sick-looking yellow bruises.
Yellow bruises. He frowned. ‘How old is a bruise when it turns yellow?’
His