The Abby Green Modern Collection. ABBY GREEN

Paris? Didn’t you go to college in the UK?’

      She nodded slowly, determined not to show her fear, her sense of being intimidated. But despite her wariness, she found it surprisingly easy to talk.

      ‘After my mother and father died, I wanted to get away from London. I’ve always loved Paris. I had spent a year here during my business degree, taking French…’ She shrugged, awkward under his intense gaze. ‘It seemed like an obvious choice. I had money from my inheritance and set up our small firm. We got busy quickly as we seemed to corner the niche in doing PR for English companies setting up here and vice versa for French ones in London…’

      Alexandros thought of the rapid research he’d done on Kallie that day. The countless pictures he’d unearthed of her at various parties, looking like the life and soul of each one. Although her appearance opposite him begged to differ, as she sat there in her plain skirt and blouse, which did little to disguise the curves he’d seen on display the other night.

      And despite her abstinence from alcohol so far, he didn’t doubt that she used it and maybe more to enhance her partying. He felt inarticulate rage start to rise, some indefinable sense of disappointment, and forced himself to be civil. For now.

      ‘You’ve done more than corner the niche. I read about your company in the financial press—you were awarded best new small business last year. That’s some achievement.’

      Kallie was too surprised at his praise and it was given in far too much of a backhand manner for her to feel a glow of pride. She shrugged again modestly. ‘Like I said, we just got in at a good time. Britain has never been so close to France with the tunnel, and plenty of people are capitalising on it. I’m one of many.’

      ‘Yes, but not everyone makes a success of it. You obviously have the Demarchis genes.’

      ‘Which are nothing compared to the Kouros genes,’ she pointed out with a wry smile, feeling herself start to relax slightly. The smile surprised her and she pursed her lips immediately. She knew that to feel relaxed was entering very dangerous territory.

      ‘Maybe so.’ Alexandros’s eyes dropped to her mouth and rested on her full bottom lip. Her sudden smile had caught him off guard. His head felt uncharacteristically hazy as all he could imagine was how it might feel to take that bottom lip between his, explore its lush cushiony softness, parting them softly with his tongue…

      With relief, he saw the head waiter from the restaurant approach the table. ‘Mr Kouros, I’m sorry to bother you. Will you be having another drink here or taking your table now?’

      He stood with the grace of a huge jungle cat, making Kallie shiver. ‘Now, Pierre. Thank you for waiting.’

      He waited for Kallie to stand and precede him from the bar, curling his hands into fists when an urge struck him to reach out and place a hand on the curve of her hip, feel it sway against his hand, explore how the silky fabric of her shirt played across her skin. He took in the sheen of glossy hair, longer at the back than he’d thought, the soft waves tamed from the unruly curls of her youth.

      The crippling ennui was definitely fading, and he had to admit that he was looking forward to the future for the first time in a very long time.

      ‘Good?’ Alexandros’s soft question came across the table. Kallie looked at him warily. He lounged back in his own chair. At obvious ease in the sumptuous, gilded surroundings, the famous restaurant, Les Ambassadeurs. She’d heard that this was the hotel that hosted every year an exclusive ball for debutantes, where twenty-four privileged young women from all over the world, aged from fifteen to nineteen, would have their introduction into society. Kallie’s insides clenched when she thought of herself at seventeen.

      She dragged her attention back, nodded and set her knife and fork on her cleared plate. A slight flush of colour entered her cheeks. Why couldn’t she have just ignored the plate of food? He must be disgusted by the way she’d tucked in. Stress for her meant eating more, not less, and she hated to be reminded of the fact. It wasn’t so long ago that she’d still carried around her puppy fat.

      ‘Amazing,’ she said tightly with a bright smile. ‘My appetite has never been a problem, as I’m sure you remember.’

      His eyes ran down her body, what he could see of it. To where her waist curved in before swelling out again to her hips in a way that was fast becoming a provocative invitation to him.

      Kallie felt her insides heat up under his look. Why had she drawn attention to herself? She remembered his nasty jibe that she must have had work done. His eyes thankfully rose to meet hers again.

      ‘You seem to still be self-conscious. You were a little chubby maybe, but what teenager doesn’t go through that?’

      Chubby…!

      Humiliation flooded Kallie when she thought of how impassioned she’d been that night on the patio. How her body had burned for him, how for once she’d been unaware of anything other than the sensations that had overwhelmed her, her untutored, gauche advances. And how she’d ever imagined for a second that he might be turned on by her. But, of course, he hadn’t been. It hadn’t taken long for him to come to his senses. She wanted to close her eyes, block out the potent sight of him.

      ‘Alexandros, surely it’s time to tell me—’

      He ignored her plea, butting in. ‘No. It’s not.’

      She flinched back slightly at his harsh tone and he seemed to notice. She could see a pulse flicker at his jaw, as if he was controlling something.

      ‘Tell me, Kallie. Why did you feel it necessary to tell that rag about our conversations? Wasn’t it enough to just publish the photo?’

      She flushed a dull red. It had killed her when she’d found out just how her own trust had been abused so abominably. But by then it had been too late. And would he understand what it was like to be a teenage girl in the throes of young passion? How she’d merely confided in someone she’d thought she could trust? Of course he wouldn’t. The Alexandros she’d known a long time ago might have…but this man wouldn’t.

      She gave thanks for having held her tongue about Eleni…for not having blurted out the truth. Eleni’s situation meant that Kallie couldn’t use her as an easy excuse for vindication. She had to find out just what he wanted. Because that was as clear as the nose on her face. He wanted something.

      Kallie hardened her heart. She had to. Those conversations he mentioned had belonged to another time, a more innocent time when she’d believed he’d had different sensibilities, like her own. But, she had to remind herself, once his father had died and he’d taken over running Kouros Shipping, he’d changed. Under his hands it had gone from million-dollar profits to generating billions. That wasn’t the same person she’d known who had confided a wish to go to art college. He’d obviously smelt the chance to make money, lots of it, and he’d changed.

      But, pathetically, she couldn’t stand the thought that he would tar her with the same brush, despite the evidence she knew was stacked against her. ‘I didn’t…It wasn’t how you think…’ she said ineffectually, miserably.

      He leant forward, his face hard. ‘Oh, and just how was it, Kallie?’

      Now they were getting to it. Kallie felt something like relief flood through her. This she could handle. Alexandros being angry, hating her.

      She looked at him slightly defiantly. She could, at least for the moment, be honest about this. ‘I never intended to hurt you, Alexandros. Believe what you want—you made up your mind that day.’

      He was derisive. ‘Oh, you didn’t hurt me, Kallie. But you did wreak a trail of destruction with your careless, cruel actions.’

      She swallowed painfully. She hadn’t been intentionally cruel. But he was right—she’d been careless, and foolish. She couldn’t argue with him about that.

      ‘Your uncle Alexei…’

      He didn’t finish the sentence. His rapid changes of subject