The Kanellis Scandal. Michelle Reid

down over the boy’s sleeping head.

      ‘Think about it,’ he urged, piling on the pressure while producing a neatly folded handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to her. She took it from him, which felt like a mild triumph. ‘This has nothing to do with Theo. This is just me offering you what I believe you need right now—a sanctuary, if you like, set in pleasant surroundings. I will not be living there. I have business to attend to overseas for the next few weeks anyway, so you will have the place all to yourself.’

      Anton knew he was not telling the absolute truth here. He knew that his killer instincts had kicked in and taken control the moment Zoe Kanellis had revealed her weakened state.

      Zoe was trying to talk herself out of Anton’s offer of a bolthole. She hated it that she had burst into tears in front of him too. He was a shark by nature and he knew when to circle his prey. She wasn’t fooled by his ‘no strings attached’ offer. She knew the pulse of concern he was giving off was probably false and that what he was really doing was inching control of the situation over to himself.

      But she also knew he was right about it being impossible for her to stay here while the press were still so interested in their story. Just thinking of little Lucy crying because she had been frightened by those awful people out there made her want to start weeping all over again.

      ‘I want you to promise that you won’t try to pressure me.’ She sniffed into the handkerchief.

      ‘You have my word.’

      ‘And you won’t tell my grandfather where I am.’

      Did she know she’d just used the forbidden word ‘grandfather’? ‘That is a tough one, but I will try my best to keep him out of the loop.’

      ‘And when I’m ready to come back home you won’t try to stop me.’

      ‘Scouts’ honour,’ Anton said.

      It startled her into glancing up at him through her tear sparkling eyelashes. Anton responded to the glimpse of electric-blue suspicion by raising a black eyebrow and she released a tear-thickened laugh. He liked Zoe Kanellis, he realised. He liked her courage in the face of all this adversity and her— Well, he liked her in other ways that were totally inappropriate, given the situation.

      Still, he could not resist daring another gesture by reaching up to brush a damp strand of hair from her cheek. She did not flinch away. In fact she didn’t do anything. It was really quite weird, he decided, how they’d ended up sitting here staring at each other without either seeming to want to look away.

      He did it; he blinked to break the connection then climbed gracefully back to his feet. ‘Tell me what needs to be done here.’

      Brisk and businesslike again, Zoe noted, as he glanced at his watch then dipped his hand in his pocket to collect his mobile phone. He looked energised, dynamic, excitingly gorgeous …

      Standing up just as abruptly as he had done, she went to settle Toby into his cot, feeling awkward suddenly and unwilling to look at him again. ‘I need to pack some things for myself and Toby, and I need to take a quick shower and change my clothes …’ she rattled off quickly in an effort to cover up an attack of confusion. ‘Does your house have baby facilities?’

      ‘It will have by the time we reach it,’ said the man used to organising anything. ‘Go and do what you need to do. You can leave the boy where he is,’ he added when she went to pick Toby up again. ‘I’ll watch over him.’

      Zoe was about to demand if he knew how to look after a baby, but he’d already turned away and was talking on his phone. With a shrug, Zoe left him to it. There was a part of her—a lurking part—questioning if she knew what she was doing, placing herself and Toby in the hands of the enemy. But for some reason she did not want to look too deeply into the question. And it did not stop her from packing a couple of bags then slipping into the bathroom to take her shower.

      By the time she came back downstairs again, Anton had been joined in the kitchen by a thick-set man wearing a black suit. They were talking in low voices but when they heard her step into the room both men stopped abruptly and looked at her. Zoe stilled, aware that she’d interrupted something important. Her gaze went from the newcomer’s tough, impassive features to Anton’s even harder-to-read face. Even his eyes had taken on a shadowy lustre which made her think of dark veils.

      Those eyes scanned her then disappeared completely behind his thick black eyelashes for a second before he brought them back to her face. She thought she saw a muscle twitch at the corner of his mouth but could not be absolutely sure of it because the mouth then stretched out a brief smile.

      ‘This is Kostas Demitris, my head of security,’ he told her.

      Drifting her blue gaze back to the other man she nodded her head in acknowledgment and he did the same back to her.

      ‘Kostas will make sure his men see that your home is secure once we have left it,’ Anton continued, bringing her gaze back to him. ‘Anything you think you might need from here that we cannot take with us now, tell Kostas and he will see that it follows us. It also would be wise if you gather together any personal documents you have around the place, so we can take them with us too—for safe keeping.’

      She parted her lips with the intention of questioning that particular command—and it had been a command, even if he’d made it sound like advice—but Anton got in first with, ‘We can secure the house to the best of our ability but once we have left here we cannot predict the determination of certain—low life—if they decide to take a look around in here in search of a new scoop.’

      Not liking the image that he’d just planted in her head, of some sleazy person deciding to ransack her home while she was away from it, once again Zoe parted her lips to say so.

      ‘It is a precaution, nothing more,’ he inserted again. ‘Kostas likes to be thorough in his forward planning.’

      Shifting her eyes back to the other man, he offered a confirming nod. ‘Anton is used to this level of precaution, Miss Kanellis. It is the down side of living a high-profile life.’

      Zoe took in a breath, ready to protest that her life wasn’t high profile, then stopped herself. She could not argue that it was certainly high profile right now.

      Both men were standing there waiting for her agreement. That questioning voice in her head asked her again why she was allowing them to take control like this. Then she thought of Lucy next door, scared and upset by those people out there; too-close-to the-surface tears formed together with an aching lump in her throat. With a mute nod, she gave them what they wanted, then walked over to Toby’s cot and bent over it, glad that her freshly washed and dried hair slithered forward to hide the bleak expression on her face.

      The scent of freshly sliced apples filtered up along the sunbeam glistening in the silky fall of her shining hair and entered Anton’s nostrils. He had a battle on his hands not to inhale deeply. In truth he was struggling to keep a lot of things together, not least his libido, which had been in a state of stirring defiance since she’d walked back into the room. For the pale and thin, grief-stricken creature who had walked out of here half an hour ago showed little resemblance to the one he was looking at now.

      This one was quite ravishingly beautiful, a breathtaking upgrade of the younger version he’d seen in the newspaper the day all of this had begun. Gone was the appalling baggy red cardigan, the scraped-back dull hair and the faded jeans. This version wore a dramatically plain shift dress in the most amazingly classy dove-grey jersey fabric which skimmed the fragile curves of her slender figure and finished halfway down the length of her long, slender thighs. OK, so the dress was a size too big right now because she had lost weight, but the promise of what still hid beneath it tantalised his imagination—as did the rest of her legs covered in stretchy black leggings and the delicacy of her slender white ankles elevated by her black platform shoes.

      ‘I hope you know what you’re doing,’ Kostas growled at him in softly spoken Greek.

      The sharp-sensed devil had picked up on what was happening to him, Anton realised.