The Millionaire's Virgin

‘Good.’ Having succeeded in his objective, he resumed his seat just as the wine waiter arrived at his elbow. ‘Now, what will you have to drink?’

He was drinking wine, she noticed. Red wine that reflected the light from the chandeliers above their heads and gave off a ruby brilliance. She was tempted to join him; she loved wine and he knew it, but she had no intention of giving him any advantage and in her present condition it would probably go straight to her head.

‘Um—just mineral water, please,’ she murmured, after a moment, addressing herself to the waiter, and he gave her a polite little bow before going to attend to her order.

‘Mineral water?’ His tone was mocking now but Paige refused to be intimidated.

‘What do you want, Nikolas?’ she asked, avoiding his sardonic gaze. She didn’t want to look into his eyes again, didn’t want to feel the sudden rush of sexual awareness she’d felt when she’d first realised who he was. ‘Where’s Martin?’

‘He’s not coming.’ He said the words without apology. ‘Ah, here’s your—water.’

Paige gazed at him now, ignoring the waiter completely. ‘What do you mean, he’s not coming?’ she demanded. ‘I think you’d better tell me what’s going on.’

‘Do you?’ His tone was ironic. ‘I gather he didn’t explain the situation when he spoke to you.’

‘No.’

Paige swallowed. She refused to admit that it was Martin’s secretary who had contacted her and arranged this meeting. She’d been so relieved to hear from him again, she hadn’t questioned why, after breaking their engagement, he’d suddenly decided to invite her to lunch at one of London’s most exclusive restaurants. The fact that it used to be their favourite restaurant had persuaded her that Martin had had second thoughts and wanted to start seeing her again.

What a fool she’d been.

‘So you have no idea why I invited you here?’

‘Haven’t I just said so?’ Paige was abrupt, but she couldn’t help it. This was just another occasion when nothing turned out as she’d expected.

‘Tell me,’ murmured Nikolas after a moment, his low, attractive voice barely exhibiting any trace of an accent, ‘how long were you and Price—what shall I say?—’ he frowned ‘—together?’

Paige stiffened. ‘What business is that of yours?’

‘Humour me.’

‘Why should I?’

‘Well…’ He paused. ‘If we are to have any kind of a working relationship—’

‘A what!’

She interrupted him then, getting half out of her chair before his hand on her forearm pressed her down again into her seat. He did it so effortlessly, she thought, rubbing her arm when he released her, glaring at him with resentful eyes. All trace of sexual awareness was swamped now by the very real feelings of outrage that were gripping her.

‘Calm down,’ he said mildly. ‘You are looking for a job, aren’t you?’ He regarded her dispassionately. ‘I may have one to offer.’

‘No, thanks.’

Paige looked away from his dark-skinned face, wondering how Martin could have done this to her. She’d thought he’d loved her. But she’d been wrong about that, too. Wrong about everything.

‘Don’t be too hasty,’ Nikolas murmured now. He pushed the glass of water towards her. ‘Drink. You’ll feel better after some refreshment.’

‘I don’t want anything.’ Paige realised she was behaving like a petulant child, but events were moving too fast for her to keep any kind of control over her emotions. She straightened her spine. ‘I’d just like to know how Martin knew that you—that you and I—had—had—’

‘Been lovers?’ Nikolas suggested softly, and despite herself her face suffused with colour.

‘Known one another,’ she amended tersely. ‘We were never lovers.’

‘No.’ He conceded the point with a certain amount of regret. ‘Or you would not have done what you did, ohi?’

‘I did nothing,’ she insisted. ‘Nothing wrong, that is.’ Then, realising she was getting into deep waters, she added, ‘How did Martin know we knew one another?’

‘He didn’t.’ Nikolas was careless. ‘As far as your—fiancé is concerned, we had never met before today.’

‘He’s not my fiancé.’ Paige could feel her jaw quivering and hurriedly pressed her lips together to control it. ‘I suppose you thought it was amusing, deceiving him like that?’

‘I deceived no one.’ His harsh features mirrored a momentary displeasure. ‘Your Martin is not the most perceptive of men.’

‘He’s not my Martin.’

‘No.’ An air of satisfaction surrounded him at this admission. ‘He told me that also.’

‘He told you—’ Paige’s lips parted in dismay. ‘He discussed our relationship with you.’

‘Let us say that when your name entered the conversation I—persuaded him to confide in me,’ declared Nikolas smugly. ‘I can be very persuasive, as I’m sure you remember.’

Paige shook her head, refusing to explore that particular time bomb. ‘What did he tell you? How do you know him?’

‘Ah.’ Nikolas relaxed back in his chair and Paige was reminded of a sleek predator that, having successfully subdued its prey, was now prepared to play with it. ‘I happened to be looking for a new financial advisor and the firm of Seton Ross appeared to have an excellent reputation.’

‘So you met quite by chance?’

‘How else?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t believe you.’

‘Why not?’ He adopted an air of injured innocence.

‘Because if Nikolas Petronides approached a firm like Seton Ross he wouldn’t be put off with one of the minor associates. Either Neville Ross or Andrew Dawes would have dealt with you personally.’

‘Indeed.’ Nikolas smiled. ‘It pleases me that you would think I warrant a more expert evaluation than your—friend was able to offer. It proves that you have not been entirely deceived by his rather obvious charms. Be thankful he broke the engagement, aghapita. You can do much better, I am sure.’

Paige fumed. ‘Don’t patronise me.’

‘Was I doing that?’ Nikolas moved his silk-clad shoulders in a dismissive gesture. ‘I am sorry.’

She was sure he was nothing of the kind, but she waited impatiently for him to go on. When he didn’t, she said shortly, ‘I’d still like to know how you came to discuss my—situation.’

‘Yes…’ He was evidently in no hurry to satisfy her curiosity. ‘Well, let me see, how did the conversation go? I think we were discussing the recent fall in the stock market and how even recognised firms of stockbrokers were not immune from collapse. Naturally, Tennants was mentioned—’

‘Naturally!’

‘It was, after all, one of the most disastrous falls of the decade, was it not? And your father’s untimely death was a real tragedy.’ There was nothing but compassion in his face as he continued, ‘Please: I cannot tell you how sorry I am; how much sympathy I feel for you and your sister.’