The Millionaire's Virgin

‘We don’t need your sympathy,’ retorted Paige tightly, but even though it was months since her father had suffered the massive stroke that had ended his life she still felt totally bereft.

‘Etsi ki alios, it is sincere,’ Nikolas assured her. ‘Although I had no love for the man, I would not wish what happened to him on my worst enemy.’

Paige regarded him coldly. ‘So you decided to offer me a job,’ she said scornfully. ‘How kind!’

‘Do not be bitter, Paige.’ Nikolas sighed. ‘It does not become you. Just because your fiancé has deserted you, do not—’

‘How dare you?’

Once again, Paige attempted to push her chair away from the table, but this time the waiter thwarted her. Misunderstanding, he assumed she was trying to pull her chair closer to the table, and he assisted her in doing just that before presenting her with the menu.

‘I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order,’ he said politely, and Paige was obliged to stay where she was, at least until he had returned to his station.

But as soon as he’d moved away she fixed Nikolas with a furious stare. ‘How dare you?’ she demanded again. ‘How dare you discuss my private life with—with—?’

‘With the man you’d hoped to share your life with?’ suggested her companion drily. ‘Perhaps you should be asking him why he’s telling all and sundry that the Tennant sisters are virtually penniless.’

‘Oh, I intend to.’

‘What?’ Nikolas’s brows rose sardonically. ‘And give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he’s hurt you? Think again, Paige. As I said before, he’s not worth it.’

‘And you are?’ She was contemptuous.

‘Let us say, I have reason to enjoy your humiliation. He does not.’

Paige glanced about her. ‘And that’s what this is all about? Humiliation?’

‘No.’

‘Oh, please…’ She gazed at him disbelievingly. ‘At least have the decency to tell me the truth.’

‘I will. If you’ll let me.’ He shrugged. ‘Have lunch with me. That is why you came, after all.’

‘To have lunch with Martin,’ she corrected him tersely, and then, remembering what her ex-fiancé had done, she realised how pathetic that sounded. She hesitated. ‘Why should I?’

‘Because you’re here; because you’re curious.’ His thin lips twitched. ‘Let me tell you why I let Price arrange this meeting.’

Paige took a considering breath but once again the waiter made the decision for her. Returning to take their order, he regarded them both with polite, enquiring eyes, and Nikolas turned somewhat impatiently to his own menu.

‘Shall I order for us both?’ he enquired, and because Paige was too bemused to argue with him she gave an unwilling nod. ‘We’ll have the avocado mousse and the grilled salmon,’ he told the waiter smoothly. ‘It is fresh salmon, not farmed?’ After gaining the waiter’s reassurance, he said, ‘Thank you.’

Paige had forgotten how efficient Nikolas was in any situation. How easily he could make a decision and act on it without resorting to discussion. He could decide what he was going to eat in less time than it had taken Martin to open a menu, and he had an effortless air of command that would persuade even the hardiest maître d’ to do his bidding.

The waiter collected the menus and went away and they were alone again. But not for long. The wine waiter returned with his list, but this time Nikolas was ready for him. ‘A bottle of the ’97 Chardonnay,’ he said, waving the list away. ‘That’s all.’

Paige breathed deeply, trying desperately to achieve even a little of his composure, but it was almost impossible. Despite her frustration at being put in such a position, she couldn’t deny a certain exhilaration at this unexpected turn of events. It was a long time since anything had inspired her to the kind of emotional upheaval Nikolas had so effortlessly created. And, while she still resented the way both he and Martin had treated her, her eyes were continually drawn to the lean brown fingers that played with the stem of his glass and the coarse black hair that dusted his wrists below the pristine cuffs of his shirt.

Nikolas was such a masculine animal, she thought, a sense of suffocation at his nearness almost overwhelming her. The only man she’d ever known who could reduce her to trembling supplication with just a single look. Or, at least, he had when she was younger, she corrected herself fiercely. She was much older—much wiser—now.

‘So,’ he said, startling her out of her reverie, ‘you would like to know about the job, ne?’

‘If I must,’ she answered tautly. ‘If there really is a job.’

‘You think I would be here otherwise?’

Paige realised that to admit that that was what she had been thinking was conceited, and amended her response. ‘Perhaps.’

‘First of all, am I right in assuming that you are looking for employment?’ he asked softly, and two red flags of colour burned in her pale cheeks.

‘If Martin said it, then it must be true,’ she replied frostily, resenting the question. ‘I suppose he also told you I have no qualifications to speak of.’

‘You have discussed your problems with him?’ Nikolas frowned.

‘No.’ Paige was indignant. ‘Sophie did. She’s desperate for me to get a job so we can find somewhere else to live.’

‘Ah, Sophie.’ He nodded. ‘Your sister. Regrettably, we were never introduced.’

Paige shrugged. ‘She was at school when—when—’

‘When your father was attempting to blind me with his elder daughter’s beauty?’ suggested Nikolas ironically. ‘Yes, I know. How old is she now?’

‘Sixteen.’ Paige pursed her lips. And then, because she couldn’t let him get away with defaming her father’s memory, she added, ‘And Daddy only introduced us. It wasn’t his fault that we—that you betrayed his trust.’

Nikolas’s lips twisted. ‘You do not really believe that.’

‘Why not? And the Murchison deal appeared to be an attractive proposition. He was trying to do you a favour by offering you the chance to invest…’

‘In something that folded only a few months later,’ remarked her companion bleakly. ‘At which time, I’d have lost a considerable amount of money.’

You could afford it, thought Paige defiantly, but she kept that opinion to herself. ‘It might have succeeded if you’d been prepared to back it,’ she said instead, only to meet a blank wall of contempt.

‘Be honest,’ said Nikolas harshly. ‘Theos, the shipping line was already losing money and all your father really wanted was someone else to share the burden of his mistake. Why else do you think he destroyed our relationship? As soon as he realised he was wasting his time with me, he moved on to the next—what is that word you use?—sucker? Yes, sucker.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘Of course it’s true.’

‘No—’

‘Yes—’

‘Avocado mousse, madam.’

The arrival of the meal put an end to any further argument, and although Paige had the feeling she was betraying her father’s memory by even being here now she refused to let Nikolas Petronides have the last word. All the same, meeting his dark eyes across the table, eyes that could turn from black velvet to burnished agate in a twinkling, she suspected she was playing a dangerous game.

‘Perhaps we should discuss why I had Price invite you here,’ he declared, after the waiter had departed again. ‘I’m sure you understand why I prevailed upon him to offer the invitation. I was fairly sure that were I to contact you you would not submit.’

‘Submit?’ Paige pushed the delicate mousse around her plate. ‘That’s a typically Petronides word to use, isn’t it? But you’re right. I wouldn’t have come.’