Rags To Riches: Hired For His Satisfaction

CHAPTER FOUR

ALEXIUS surveyed Rosie where she lay on the sofa in his penthouse apartment. She was coming round again, her slight body shifting, a sigh fleeing her lips. She looked like a doll, a doll dressed as a teenager in jeans, striped sweater and jacket. A woolly hat with a bobble actually stuck out of one jacket pocket. The canvas shoes on her feet were badly worn, the fabric backing showing through in places. Thee mou, what the hell had he been thinking of when he bedded her? And the answer was that he had not been thinking at all. Finally, he let his attention rove to her delicate profile, the lashes fluttering now, faint pink warming her cheekbones as natural colour drove away the extreme pallor she had worn only minutes earlier. Her soft pink mouth pouted and he hardened in a reaction as predictable as a wave hitting the shore, he decided wrathfully. He could still feel the hot tight embrace of her body, but even better did he recall the look of wonder in her eyes afterwards. No woman had ever treated Alexius to a look quite like that. Indeed, for three long, endless weeks, Alexius had been reliving that night, trying to sleep with an erection that wouldn’t quit, dreaming about her, waking up still unsatisfied and still angry with himself.

He had got involved, something he never did with a woman, and it looked as if that error of judgement was going to pay off in spades in record time.

Rosie opened her eyes on a great wall of glass that she didn’t recognise and sat up in dismay to glimpse a rooftop view of London that could only belong to someone who inhabited a hugely privileged world. Her head swam and she grimaced at the discomfort.

‘Don’t try to get up while you’re still feeling woozy,’ Alex advised smoothly.

Not Alex, Alexius, she reminded herself doggedly, finally turning her head to look at him. There he was, standing straight and tall, arrogant black head tilted back, and it was a moment when he looked every inch what he was: a very well-dressed rich and powerful businessman with silver eyes as sharp as a laser beam. He was so beautiful it hurt her to look at him and she dropped her gaze again, protecting herself from her weakness. But those lean, darkly handsome features of his were breathtakingly beautiful and she no longer marvelled at the ease with which he had got her into bed. He was uber-temptation, way beyond what an ordinary girl could expect to meet up with and withstand.

‘Where am I?’ she asked.

‘This apartment is above my office. I wanted privacy in which to talk to you.’ His voice was concise, cool, measured. His complete calm gave her a horrendously strong desire to slap him.

‘You lied to me about who you were.’

It begins, Alexius thought fatalistically. ‘I didn’t lie. I merely omitted certain portions of the truth.’

Rosie swung her feet to the smooth wooden floor. Her attention skittered across smoked glass tables, luxury furniture and several very impressive paintings and the dazed feeling she was suffering from returned in full force. She was a fish out of water in such opulent surroundings. ‘Semantics and I just bet you’re a master of them! What the heck kind of a game were you playing with me?’

‘Sit down again, Rosie,’ Alexius urged. ‘It wasn’t a game. Your grandfather—’

‘I don’t have a grandfather—’

‘Your father’s father, Socrates Seferis, is still very much alive,’ he countered.

‘My mother told me that my father had no living relatives,’ she replied argumentatively, chin lifting in challenge.

Even with her hair scraped back in a no-nonsense ponytail, she was quite astonishingly pretty, Alexius reflected grimly, not best pleased to have noticed the fact. Quite deliberately he thought of the sort of woman who usually attracted him. Tall, curvy, dark-haired and ladylike, and here was Rosie, tiny, boyish in shape, quick-tempered and cheeky and quite irresistibly appealing on some level he couldn’t penetrate.

‘Your mother knew very well that your grandfather existed because she applied to him for financial help after your father deserted her when she was pregnant with you,’ Alexius told her. ‘He gave her money.’

Rosie had paled and slowly she sat down again. ‘But I never saw any money.’

‘That may be so. I’m aware that you grew up in foster care but nonetheless the fact remains, your grandfather did care about what happened to you and did what he could to ensure that you were raised in comfort and security.’

Rosie stared at her canvas-shod feet. She had never had security, even at Beryl’s house when she was aware that she could be moved on to other carers at any time. But she was now recalling a period in her life when her visits with her mother had been almost exciting. Jenny had had loads of photos to show her daughter of foreign beaches and fancy hotels and she had worn colourful flashy clothes and skyscraper heels. Later, with hindsight, Rosie had assumed that her mother must’ve had a rich boyfriend providing her with those luxuries. But what if the money that had financed Jenny’s designer wardrobe and frequent travels abroad had come from Rosie’s grandfather, Socrates, instead? It was certainly possible that Jenny Gray had lied. If she had accepted money to help her raise the child she was not actually raising, it would have been an act of fraud that could have got her mother into serious trouble, Rosie reasoned ruefully. What was more, even as a child Rosie had realised that her mother commonly told lies when it suited her to do so. It made sense that Jenny would have concealed Socrates’s existence to cover her own tracks. Alexius’s version of events might well be the truth as Rosie had never known it but what she could not comprehend was why Alexius Stavroulakis should be discussing her unknown grandfather with her.

‘What’s your place in all this?’ Rosie demanded with spirit. ‘What connection do you have to my grandfather? How do you know these things about my background?’

‘Socrates Seferis is my godfather and a very old friend.’ Alexius breathed in deep and slow, relieved that she seemed calm for all the air of bewilderment that clung to her. ‘He asked me to get to know you and tell him what you were like.’

‘Get to know me?’ Rosie repeated, studying him in frank astonishment. ‘Why would he do that?’

‘He wanted to know what sort of woman you were before he invited you to visit him in Greece and he trusted my judgement. It should interest you to know that I’ve already informed Socrates that you are everything he could hope for in a granddaughter,’ he delivered with patronising cool.

‘ And that’s why you started talking to me, helped me out with Jason, took me for a meal?’ Rosie guessed sickly, her heart sinking down to her sock soles in the strained silence. It had all been a lie, everything from his first taking notice of her to his seeming interest and the amazing pleasure he had introduced her to in bed that same evening.

‘Naturally the sex wasn’t part of the plan,’ Alexius remarked with perceptible distaste.

White as milk, whipped by that distaste, Rosie gazed back at him, big green eyes pools of distress and censure. Her small hands balled into defensive fists.

‘I took advantage of you when you were vulnerable. That was wrong,’ Alexius murmured even though it was a challenge for him to sound suitably humble. He had no intention of apologising for the best sex he’d had in a decade but he was well aware it had been inappropriate in the circumstances.

Rosie stared at him through her cloaking lashes, her heart thumping far too fast for comfort. With shame she felt the clamour of her awakened body respond to him, the tightening tingle of her nipples and the surge of damp awareness between her legs. He had taught her to want him and now that deceptive sense of intimate connection was ready to betray her. But he was not the guy she had believed he was: he really was a stranger. She refused to think about him taking advantage of her because that made her feel small and out of control of her own destiny. That was a humiliating appraisal of their intimacy that she just did not need at that moment.

‘That cash that supposedly got caught up in the vacuum cleaner? Was that some sort of a test?’ Rosie pressed bitterly.

‘A rudimentary but effective one. I needed to know for my godfather’s sake if you could be trusted,’ Alexius declared smoothly. ‘Please accept that I did not intend to injure you in any way when I approached you. I was trying to help out a close friend at his request. Have you no questions to ask about your grandfather?’

Picking up on the hint of reproach in that query, Rosie stiffened even more. ‘Should I have? A man whom I didn’t even know existed until five minutes ago? A man who knew I existed but who has never tried to meet me? And a man who asked you to check me out for him, rather than get to know me himself?’

That was a cooler and more critical appraisal of the situation than he had expected to receive from a woman who had already admitted that she was keen to have a family. Alexius frowned, disappointed by her response. ‘There is some excuse for his behaviour. Socrates had major heart surgery only a couple of weeks ago and he is currently recuperating at his home in Athens. He is in no shape to fly over here to meet you in person.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that, but since he was so keen to have me vetted behind my back to see if I was the sort of person he was willing to know, I can’t say much more,’ Rosie countered curtly. ‘I think this is a horrible way to find out that I have a grandfather. You lied to me—’

‘I didn’t lie,’ Alexius shot back at her icily. ‘My full name is legally Alexius Kolovos Stavroulakis.’

Her triangular face froze as if overnight frost had struck it pale and tight. ‘You lied,’ she said again. ‘You wanted to mislead me as to who you really were and it worked. I was so stupid, I fell for it!’

Alexius stiffened, fiercely resisting an urge to move closer. The distress in her darkened eyes struck him like a slap in the face. ‘I’m sorry but I hope you will forgive me when you meet your grandfather—’

‘I’m not planning to meet him,’ Rosie told him flatly. ‘I’ve got enough trouble in my life without going out on a limb to meet some old man who tried to judge whether or not I was worth knowing before he even met me.’

‘Socrates has asked me to bring you to Greece. Don’t let the offence I have caused be laid at his door,’ he advised grimly. ‘If you do, I believe you will live to regret it. You are a kind-hearted woman.’

‘Kind-hearted?’ Rosie settled blistering green eyes of condemnation on him. ‘If you were standing at an open window at this moment I’d push you out of it! I hate you—’

‘You hardly know me … how can you hate me?’ Alexius fielded drily.

Taken aback by that unwelcome reminder, Rosie stood up and walked across the room, taking in everything around her, recognising that the perfectly decorated walls and toning upholstery were undoubtedly the work of a top-class interior designer. It looked like a glossy magazine spread: faintly unreal. She turned back to collide unexpectedly with stormy liquid-silver eyes. ‘Why are you angry with me? What have you got to be angry about?’ she demanded furiously.

Alexius, who prided himself on his powers of camouflage and reserve, gritted his even white teeth together. ‘I’m angry that I made such a mess of getting to know you that you will take it out on your grandfather.’

‘I don’t take things out on people who haven’t done me any harm. I’m sure he’s a nice old man and I wish him well, I truly do,’ she muttered uncomfortably. ‘But I don’t know if I want to meet him and I certainly don’t want to go anywhere with you after what I’ve found out about you!’

‘What have you found out about me that is so threatening?’ Alexius traded, striving not to notice the pert curve of her derriere in the jeans and the tininess of her waist. He liked her body, the delicacy and restraint of it, the slender perfection that had so entranced him in her bed. The pulse at his groin quickened, and he felt the heavy push of arousal.

‘You might as well be an alien from another planet,’ Rosie told him truculently, throwing up her hands in expressive comment on the opulent room. ‘You’re rich and educated. I’m poor and struggling to complete my education. But, worst of all, I can’t trust you because you don’t tell the truth.’

His shapely sensual mouth quirked with a hint of amusement that infuriated her. ‘If it helps, I can promise you now that I will not tell you another half-truth or omit the truth no matter how unwelcome it may be to you.’

‘That would be a good start. I mean, how rich are you?’ she prompted shakily. ‘Do you have a private jet?’

Alexius had a fleet of them but decided to keep that news to himself. He nodded confirmation.

Her face fell in disappointment because she had hoped that he was not that rich. ‘And do you own more than one house?’

Beginning to appreciate by the expression on her revealing little face that she was not enamoured of what she was finding out about his bank balance, Alexius released his breath in an impatient hiss. ‘Yes. I inherited a great deal of money from my parents, both of whom were wealthy in their own right when they married.’

How dumb must she have been to believe that he was a comparatively ordinary guy? Pain gripped Rosie, pain that she could have been so blind as not to notice the very expensive gold wristwatch he wore, the diamond-encrusted cufflink winking against the pristine white of his shirt, the impossibly well-tailored cut of his striking dove-grey business suit. Not an office worker with a company car. No, he owned and ran the business and, according to her employer, STA Industries was an extremely large international concern.

‘Why did you come looking for me, Rosie?’ Alexius prompted quietly, wondering why it had never occurred to him before that a woman might actually exist who saw his great wealth only as a barrier and a problem. The concept fascinated him.

Rosie rested dulled green eyes on him and shifted a tiny shoulder in a fatalistic shrug. ‘Because I’m pregnant …’

And that bold announcement just lay there in a silence that grew and grew until it seemed to fill the whole room and threaten to suffocate her, impelling her back into urgent speech.

‘Sorry to dump it on you like that but, although I was taking the contraceptive pill as I told you, I had a stomach upset that same week and my doctor thinks that the sickness probably wrecked the level of my protection,’ she extended in a jerky rush.

Alexius continued to study her much as though she had landed in a parachute in front of him without warning. He had lost colour beneath his bronzed complexion and he was very tense, his brilliant eyes veiled, his hard jaw line clearly delineated. ‘You’re pregnant? Are you sure?’

‘Of course, I’m sure. Tests can tell very early these days,’ she muttered uneasily.

‘And you’re sure it’s mine?’

‘You know there wasn’t anyone else before you and I can assure you that there’s not been anyone else since,’ Rosie proclaimed curtly, resenting that he had asked that question even if logic suggested he had the right to ask it. ‘It’s your baby.’

A baby. The very concept of a baby blitzed Alexius’s brain. Adrenalin pounded through him, powering aggression that had no hope of escape because with her words she had fulfilled his worst fear. She had trapped him as he had always sworn he would never be trapped. He had friends who had put themselves in the same position and it hadn’t worked out happily for any of them. All his adult life he had been careful not to take that risk and yet with her, for no more reason than the fact that his jacket was lying halfway across the room, he had had sex without adequate precautions. As the more experienced partner, he could only blame himself for accepting that threat of consequences without real thought of what it might mean if things went wrong. And they had gone wrong, horribly wrong, he registered harshly.

‘You’re shocked,’ Rosie breathed, stiff with discomfiture at the acknowledgement. ‘I was shocked too but I’m afraid I don’t want a termination—’

‘I wouldn’t ask you to have one,’ Alexius cut in smoothly. ‘We’re adults. We will deal with this.’

‘Babies aren’t so easy to deal with,’ Rosie remarked helplessly, thinking of the heavy round-the-clock demands of the babies she had come across in the foster-care system. A baby was almost a full-time job, she thought fearfully. It couldn’t be left alone for a minute. It needed constant care and might not even sleep through the night. The birth of a baby would blow her life apart and wreck all her plans for the future.

‘I could have done without this right now,’ Rosie added ruefully. ‘I have my exams to sit in two weeks. I’m in the middle of my revision and now I can’t concentrate—’

‘You’re studying for exams?’ Alexius emerged from his black cloud of foreboding to enquire.

‘Yes, I want to go to university in the autumn.’

Alexius thought about the giant holes in the investigation Socrates had had done on her. Just as the photo had not shown her beauty, the basic facts, right down to her current address, had been outrageously inaccurate. She was not content simply to clean offices for the rest of her life; clearly, she had drive and ambition and had he asked a few more personal questions he might have discovered that for himself. But in the long run, who she was, what she was, no longer mattered in the face of the fact that she had conceived his child. Socrates deserved better than that embarrassment at his hands. He dragged in a shuddering breath and braced himself to make the ultimate sacrifice of freedom and self-will. ‘I’ll marry you …’