Modern Romance December 2016 Books 1-4. Кейт Хьюит

No one disturbed him in his study. Maria knew it was off-limits, and Sofia would never dare. Which left one person who could be knocking at his door, one person who dared to disturb his privacy.

      ‘Enter,’ he barked, and the door swung open to reveal Talia standing there, her hands on her hips, her eyes blazing.

      * * *

      Talia was furious. She’d been furious ever since Angelos’s helicopter had landed three hours ago, and he hadn’t even come upstairs to say hello to his daughter.

      When he’d appeared for dinner, she’d managed to calm down a little. Maybe he really was busy with work. He’d come back earlier than he’d intended, and he was making the effort to have a meal with them. She was willing to be appeased, even impressed. But then his behaviour during that meal—the bitten-off questions, the stony looks—had made her fury return in full force. And no matter what happened, even if the man fired her, she knew she couldn’t stay silent any longer. For Sofia’s sake she had to speak.

      ‘Did you need something?’ Angelos asked, his tone as curt as ever. He looked devastatingly sexy standing there, with the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt unbuttoned, revealing the tanned column of his throat, and the sleeves rolled up to show his powerful forearms. His hair was slightly mussed, and a five-o’clock shadow glinted on his strong jaw. Just the sight of him was enough to make every thought empty out of Talia’s head, and she had a hard time remembering why she was so angry.

      ‘I thought,’ Angelos continued as he turned to his desk, effectively dismissing her, ‘that Maria would have told you my study is off-limits.’

      ‘You mean you’re off-limits,’ Talia returned. She was fast recalling her fury, especially when Angelos didn’t even look up as he answered her. No matter how sexy the man was, he could still act like an ass.

      ‘When I am working, yes.’

      She gestured to his closed laptop. ‘Have you been working, Kyrie Mena?’

      Angelos glanced up then, clearly annoyed by her challenge. ‘What is it you want, Miss Di Sione?’

      ‘I thought you were going to call me Talia,’ she reminded him with acid sweetness. ‘Not that you’ve ever asked me to call you by your first name.’

      ‘I am your employer.’

      Talia rolled her eyes. ‘You are also the most stiff and formal man I’ve ever met. In this day and age, I think it would be perfectly appropriate for us to call each other by our first names.’

      He looked utterly nonplussed by this apparently outrageous suggestion. ‘Is this why you came into my study? To discuss how we address each other?’

      ‘No.’ Talia let out her breath in a huff. She was picking the wrong fight, but there was so much about Angelos and his distant, disdainful attitude that got up her nose. Made her want to come out swinging for Sofia’s sake. ‘But I thought I’d mention it, as an aside.’

      ‘Fine. You’ve mentioned it.’ He turned away again and Talia clenched her hands into fists.

      ‘You know, I think you love your daughter,’ she said, her voice shaking with the force of her feeling, ‘but I wouldn’t be able to tell from your behaviour. At all.’

      Angelos turned around slowly. His face was blank, his eyes like two dark pools, his huge body radiating menace. Talia felt a tremor of trepidation go through her; she’d already learned that Angelos was at his most terrifying when she couldn’t tell anything from his expression.

      ‘I have no interest in what you think,’ he said, enunciating each harsh word with cold precision. ‘And no desire for you to come and invade my privacy with your ridiculous presumption.’

      She blinked, half amazed at the blatant insults he delivered with such deliberate cruelty, even as part of her recognised it as a tactic. A defence, and one she was determined to break through. ‘You really are incredibly rude,’ she told him, glad her voice came out evenly. ‘As well as—dare I say it?—short-sighted. I spend more time with your daughter than anyone else does. Maybe you should care what I think.’

      Two spots of colour appeared high on Angelos’s sharp cheekbones, but his expression remained glacial, his eyes like chips of dark ice. ‘You overstep yourself, Miss Di Sione,’ he said, his voice a quiet, warning hiss. Talia felt a tremble of fear, and yet courage or perhaps just a deep conviction of what Sofia needed propelled her onwards.

      ‘So what are you going to do, fire me?’ she demanded as she took a step towards him, felt the heat from his body and inhaled the clean male scent of him. ‘I’m overstepping myself because I care about your daughter. And your behaviour hurts her terribly, even though she tries to hide it. Why can’t you be more—’ She broke off, searching for a word, and Angelos raised his eyebrows, his whole body tensed with suppressed fury.

      ‘Be more what?’ he asked, biting off each word and spitting it out.

      ‘Loving,’ she burst out. ‘She’s a little girl. She has so few people in her life. She wants to be loved by her papa.’

      Her words seemed to echo in the taut stillness of the room, and for one brief second Angelos’s features twisted in what looked like a grimace of anguish, and Talia felt as if her heart was suspended in her chest as realisation slammed into her. He was hurting...just as Sofia was hurting.

      Just as she was hurting.

      Then his expression ironed out and he turned away, busying himself with some papers on his desk, his back to her.

      ‘This conversation is over.’

      ‘Angelos...’ It was the first time she’d dared to call him by his first name, and it felt weirdly intimate, as if she had just used an endearment. She took a step towards him, reaching a hand out, wanting to touch him, to offer him that little comfort, and her too. She imagined the feel of his shoulder under her palm, hot and hard and strong. She craved that connection, however brief and illusory it was, and she imagined, foolishly perhaps, he craved it too. Yet even so she didn’t dare. ‘Surely someone else,’ she said quietly, ‘Maria or one of the nannies, has spoken to you about this? Has been as concerned as I have?’

      ‘The other nannies were not nearly as interested in Sofia as you seem to be,’ Angelos answered tonelessly. ‘Now I wonder if that was no bad thing.’ He glanced up at her, his expression as cold and implacable as it ever had been, and Talia knew any moment of connection she had been hoping for was well and truly severed. ‘I am not asking for your opinion on these matters. You are here for a short time only, Talia. You are not part of our lives. In a month you will be gone from here, as good as forgotten.’

      The deliberate brutality of his words felt like a slap to the face, a fist to the gut. She blinked rapidly, startled by how hurt she felt by Angelos’s cold statement. She may have only been on Kallos for ten days, but she felt as if she’d become part of Sofia’s life, as if she mattered. And, Talia realised with a stab of remorse, she mattered to so few people in her life. Her grandfather, her brothers and sisters...her circle of loved ones was incredibly small. She hadn’t thought she minded, but now...

      ‘That may be true,’ she managed when she trusted her voice not to tremble with the force of her hurt. ‘But I’m part of Sofia’s life now. I matter to her now, and she matters to me.’ Angelos simply stared, blatantly unimpressed. Talia fought the urge to cry, or maybe scream. She felt as if she were banging her head against a wall. A very hard wall. Maybe Angelos was right, and she should just stop. It wasn’t as if she’d ever see these people again after the next month. Why was she pushing so much? Why did she care so much?

      Because you know how Sofia feels.

      She took a deep breath and forced all the feelings back. ‘How long are you staying for this time?’ she asked, and she saw surprise flicker across Angelos’s face at the abrupt change in topic.

      ‘I have not yet decided. I came to make sure you were doing an adequate job—’

      ‘And