digested that. ‘You’ve never met the right person.’
‘I don’t believe in love.’
‘You—’ She rocked back on her heels, her attention caught. ‘So what do you believe in?’
‘Money, influence and power.’ He shrugged. ‘Tangible, measurable goals.’
‘You can measure power and influence? Don’t tell me—you stamp your foot and it registers on the Richter scale.’
He loosened his tie. ‘You’d be surprised.’
‘I’m already surprised. Gosh, you are so cool. You are my new role model.’ Finally she managed to coax ink from the pen. ‘It is never too late to change. From now on I’m all about tangible, measurable goals, too. As a matter of interest, what is your goal in relationships?’
‘Orgasm.’ He gave a slow smile and she felt herself turn scarlet.
‘Right. Well, that serves me right for asking a stupid question. That’s definitely a measurable goal. You’re obviously able to be cold and ruthlessly detached when it comes to relationships. I’m aiming for that. I’ve dripped all over your floor. Be careful not to slip.’
He was leaning against the wall, watching her with amusement. ‘This is what you look like when you’re being cold and ruthlessly detached?’
‘I haven’t actually started yet, but the moment my radar warns me I might be in danger of falling for the wrong type, bam—’ she punched the air with her fist ‘—I’m going to turn on my freezing side. From now on I have armour around my heart. Kevlar.’ She gave him a friendly smile. ‘You think I’m crazy, right? All this is natural to you. But it isn’t to me. This is the first stage of my personality transplant. I’d love to do the whole thing under anaesthetic and wake up all new and perfect, but that isn’t possible so I’m trying to embrace the process.’
A vibrating noise caught her attention and she glanced across the room towards his jacket. When he didn’t move, she looked at him expectantly. ‘That’s your phone.’
He was still watching her, his gaze disturbingly intent. ‘Yes.’
‘You’re not going to answer it?’ She scrambled to her feet, still clutching the towel. ‘It might be her, asking for your forgiveness.’
‘I’m sure it is, which is why I don’t intend to answer it.’
Lily absorbed that with admiration. ‘This is a perfect example of why I need to be like you and not like me. If that had been my phone, I would have answered it and when whoever was on the end apologised for treating me badly, I would have told him it was fine. I would have forgiven them.’
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘You do need help. What’s your name?’
She shifted, her wet feet sticking to the floor. ‘Lily. Like the flower.’
‘You look familiar. Have we met before?’
Lily felt the colour pour into her cheeks. ‘I’ve been working as an intern at your company two days a week for the past couple of months. I’m second assistant to your personal assistant.’ I’m the one who broke the photocopier and the coffee machine.
Dark eyebrows rose. ‘We’ve met?’
‘No. I’ve only seen you once in person. I don’t count the time I was hiding in the bathroom.’
‘You hid in the bathroom?’
‘You were on a firing spree. I didn’t want to be noticed.’
‘So you work for me two days a week, and on the other three days you’re working as a cleaner?’
‘No, I only do that job in the evenings. The other three days I’m doing fieldwork up at Aptera for the summer. But that’s almost finished. I’ve reached a crossroads in my life and I’ve no idea which direction to take.’
‘Fieldwork?’ That sparked his interest. ‘You’re an archaeologist?’
‘Yes, I’m part of a project funded by the university but that part doesn’t pay off my massive college loans so I have other jobs.’
‘How much do you know about Minoan antiquities?’
Lily blinked. ‘Probably more than is healthy for a woman of twenty-four.’
‘Good. Get back into the bathroom and dry yourself off while I find you a dress. Tonight I have to open the new wing of the museum. You’re coming with me.’
‘Me? Don’t you have a date?’
‘I had a date,’ he said smoothly. ‘As you’re partially responsible for the fact she’s no longer here, you’re coming in her place.’
‘But—’ She licked her lips. ‘I’m supposed to be cleaning your villa.’
His gaze slid from her face to the wash of water covering the bathroom floor. ‘I’d say you’ve done a pretty thorough job. By the time we get home, the flood will have spread down the stairs and across the living areas, so it will clean itself.’
Lily gave a gurgle of laughter. She wondered if any of his employees realised he had a sense of humour. ‘You’re not going to fire me?’
‘You should have more confidence in yourself. If you have knowledge of Minoan artefacts then I still have a use for you and I never fire people who are useful.’ He reached for the towel and tugged it off, leaving her clad only in her soaking wet underwear.
‘What are you doing?’ She gave a squeak of embarrassment and snatched at the towel but he held it out of reach.
‘Stop wriggling. I can’t be the first man to see you half naked.’
‘Usually I’m in a relationship when a man sees me naked. And being stared at is very unnerving, especially when you’ve been called fat by someone who looks like a toast rack—’ Lily broke off as he turned and strolled away from her. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or affronted. ‘If you want to know my size you could ask me!’
He reached for his phone and dialled. While he waited for the person on the other end to answer, he scanned her body and gave her a slow, knowing smile. ‘I don’t need to ask, theé mou,’ he said softly. ‘I already know your size.’
Copyright © 2015 by Sarah Morgan
Annie West
‘Don’t apologise.’ Asim breathed deep, filling the void in his lungs. ‘I don’t like it when you’re…meek.’
The words surprised him as much as her. He felt the shock of the admission reverberate through him even as he saw it ripple across her face.
He didn’t approve of the way she argued with him, refusing to be silenced after he’d made a decision. It happened daily when she tried to wheedle access to records or palace staff or ancient pavilions that had been locked up as unsafe generations ago. Yet seeing her hesitant and downcast was like watching a bright light dim.
For long seconds their eyes locked. Long enough for him to notice that in the syrupy lateafternoon light her eyes flashed with shards of gold.
Slowly her mouth eased into a crooked smile.
‘In that case, Asim…’ Jacqui paused over his name as if savouring it ‘…I promise not to be meek with you again.’
She scooped up her towel and wrapped it around herself, hurrying towards her room. But her chin was up and her shoulders back and, despite his body’s