By Request Collection April-June 2016. Оливия Гейтс

off at home anyway. ‘Jealous of what?’

      He leaned an arm up against the door, muscles pulling tight under his skin, making the most of the posture, and she cursed the fact he hadn’t thought to put on anything more than a towel yet. Or maybe that was his intention. To remind her what she’d be missing out on. Well, tough. After tonight she knew what she’d be missing out on. Of course, he was tempting, but there came a time where self-preservation came first.

      ‘You did make a point about having to send out those gifts to…my friends.’

      ‘Your ex-lovers, you mean.’

      ‘You are jealous.’

      She shrugged. ‘No. I’ve had my one night with you. Why should I be jealous?’

      ‘Well, something’s bugging you. What is it?’

      She turned toward him then, wishing she could just walk away, sensitive to the fact that she could still be at risk of losing her contract if she angered him but still bothered enough by the riddle that was Leo Zamos to ask. ‘You really want to know?’

      ‘Tell me.’

      ‘Okay,’ she started, her eyes taking this last opportunity to drink in the glorious definition of his body, wanting to imprint all she could upon her memory before she left, because after tonight her memories would be all she had. ‘What I don’t understand is you.’

      He laughed, a rich, deep sound she discovered she liked too much. ‘What’s so hard to understand?’

      ‘Everything. You’re confident and successful and ultra-rich—you have your own plane, for heaven’s sake!—and you’re a passionate lover and clearly have no trouble finding women willing to share your bed…’ She paused for a moment, wondering if she’d said enough, wondering if she added that he was drop-dead gorgeous and had a body that turned a woman’s thoughts to carnal acts, she would be saying more about herself than about him.

      He smiled. ‘That’s it? I’m not actually sure where your problem lies.’

      ‘No, that’s not it. You know there’s more. People are drawn to you, Leo, you know it. And it’s just that, with everything you have going for you, I don’t understand how it can be that when you feel the need to play happy families, you have to pay someone to pretend to be your fiancée.’

      ‘You would have done it for free?’ He gave a wry smile. ‘I’ll remember that for next time.’

      ‘No!’ she said, knowing she was making a hash of it, knowing he was laughing at her. ‘That’s not my point at all. I just don’t understand why you’re in the situation where you need to pretend. How is it that a man with clearly such great appeal to women hasn’t got a wife or a fiancée or even a serious girlfriend? How is that possible?’

      The smile slipped as he pushed away from the wall, moving closer, the menacing glint in his eyes putting her on sudden alert. ‘Maybe,’ he said, drawing near, touching his fingers to her brow, tracing a line south, ‘it’s because there is no lack of women willing to share my bed. What is that delightful saying? Why buy a book when you can join a library?’

      She stood stock-still, resisting the tremors set off by his merest touch, hating the smug look on his face, forcing a smile to hers. ‘Well, the loan on this particular book just expired. Goodnight, Leo.’

      He let her go, at least as far as the door.

      ‘Evelyn.’

      She halted, put her hand on the doorframe to stop herself swaying, and without turning around said, ‘Yes?’

      ‘Something I tell all the women I spend time with. Something I thought you might have understood, although, given your questions, maybe you need to hear it too.’

      She looked over her shoulder, curious about what it was he told his ‘women’, what he thought she needed to hear. ‘Yes?’

      ‘I like women. I like sex. But that’s where it starts and finishes. Because I don’t do family. It’s not going to happen.’

      This time she took a step towards him, stunned by his sheer arrogance. ‘You think I was on some kind of fishing expedition to work out what my chances were of becoming Mrs Leo Zamos for real?’

      ‘You were the one asking the questions.’

      ‘And I also said I don’t want to see you again. Which part of “I don’t want to see you again” equates to “Please marry me” exactly?’

      ‘I was just saying—’

      ‘And I’m saying you needn’t have bothered. I’m not in the market for a husband as it happens, but even if I were, I’m certain I’d prefer someone who didn’t profess to liking women and sex quite so much!’ She turned on her heel and strode through the bedroom, slipping on her heels and picking up her purse, scanning the room for anything she might have left.

      ‘Evelyn!’

      But she didn’t stop until she was through the living room then, turned, one more question to be answered before she left. ‘I’ll understand if you no longer want to retain me as your PA.’

      ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I want to keep you.’

      She nodded, relieved, suddenly realising how perilously close she’d come to blowing things. ‘All right. All the best with the deal tomorrow. I guess I’ll be hearing from you in due course.’ She offered him her hand, back to brisk, businesslike efficiency, even if she was dealing with a man wearing nothing more than a towel. ‘Thank you for a pleasant evening, Mr Zamos. I’ll see myself out, under the circumstances.’

      One eyebrow quirked at the formality but he took her hand, squeezing it gently. ‘It was my pleasure, Evelyn. My pleasure entirely.’

      Minutes later, she sank her head back against the plush leather headrest and sighed as the limousine slipped smoothly from the hotel. Better to end this way, she reflected; better that they had argued rather than agreeing to meet again. Better that it had ended now when anything else would merely have been putting off the inevitable.

      For it would have ended, nothing surer, and probably as soon as their next meeting. And then Leo would take off in his jet and find another convenient Evelyn somewhere else in the world, and she would be forgotten.

      But now they’d claimed their stolen night, the night they’d been cheated out of by conspiring circumstances those years ago, and it had been an amazing night and she’d managed to survive with both some degree of pride and her job intact. But it was for the best that it had ended on a sour note.

      Now they could both put it behind them.

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      SHE grappled with the front-door key, her baby growing heavier by the minute. That or her night of sinful and unfamiliar pleasures had taken it out of her, but the child dozing on her shoulder felt like he’d doubled in size and weight overnight. Then again, maybe he’d just had one too many pancakes. She knew she had. She’d woken this morning after too few hours’ sleep almost ravenous.

      She was barely inside the door when the phone started ringing and she picked it up more to shut it up than any desire to talk to whoever was calling. She had less desire to talk when she found out who it was.

      ‘Evelyn, it’s Leo.’

      The sound of his voice sent ripples of pleasure through her, triggering memories formed all too recently to not remember every single sensual detail. She sucked in air, but Leo was the last person she’d expected to call and there was nothing she could think of to say. Hadn’t they said everything that needed to be said last night?

      ‘Evelyn?’

      She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore the snatches of memory flashing through