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Demos knew what his mother was implying. Her hints had never been subtle. She wanted him married…for Brianna’s sake as well as his own. And for the first time he considered it, the image of Althea and her teasing smile flashing through his mind with seductive promise.
Perhaps in one fell swoop he could influence Brianna—show her something more positive than the playboy antics she’d been watching from afar.
Perhaps his marriage would be good for Brianna, good for Althea. Good for him. Perhaps it was time.
He sighed. ‘Thank you for telling me. I’ll bring Brianna back tomorrow.’
‘It will be good to see you here, Demos.’
Demos shrugged off the guilt that threatened to settle on him like a shroud. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been at his mother’s house. There were reasons he didn’t go back home. Home… His mother’s house had never been his home. Nerissa had married Stavros when Demos was twenty-four, just when he’d started making money, trading the provision of a millionaire for that of a working-class butcher.
Demos’s mouth twisted in sardonic acknowledgement of his own snobbery. Stavros provided decently for his wife and family, yet Demos could have given them so much more.
‘Yes,’ he said at last. ‘Itwill.’ But his words sounded hollow to his own ears, and as he severed the connection he was left staring into the darkness, lost in the shadows and memories of his past.
CHAPTER THREE
‘FOUND you.’
Althea looked up from the book she’d been engrossed in and her eyes widened in surprise, awareness prickling along her bare arms. Demos Atrikes sprawled in the chair across from her, grinning with the gloating satisfaction of a little boy. Although there was nothing boyish about the sensual glint in his eyes as his gaze roved over her.
Althea swallowed and looked away. She forced herself to idly turn a page of her book. ‘Am I meant to be impressed?’
‘Of course.’ Demos’s gaze flicked over her once more, lingering on the book in her lap. ‘I didn’t expect to find you in a library.’
‘Oh? Where did you expect to find me?’ Althea slipped the book into her bag and raised one haughty eyebrow, her lips curving with sardonic mockery. ‘In a club? A boutique? A salon?’
Demos just smiled. ‘You’re different,’ he said. ‘I like that.’
‘And I’m so thrilled to oblige you.’ Althea reached for her bag as she began to stand up. Demos checked her with one hand.
‘Don’t be offended,’ he said with a little smile. ‘It was a compliment, you know. “Thank you” is usually the expected response.’
Althea shrugged his hand off and slipped her bag onto her shoulder. ‘You really don’t know anything about me.’
‘I know your name. Althea. It means healing.’
‘You’ve done your homework,’ she acknowledged, her eyes flashing. ‘Good boy.’
Demos grinned lazily. With irritation, Althea realised she was simply amusing him. He wasn’t one of the callow, spoiled young men she was accustomed to, boys who were all too easily put off by her put-downs. Demos Atrikes had too much confidence, too much ease and comfort in who he was for her stinging little remarks to be anything more than a diversion.
‘Have dinner with me,’ he said, and although he spoke it like an invitation, Althea heard the command in his voice. Demos Atrikes was a man determined to get what he wanted. ‘Please,’ he added mildly, his eyes glinting with amused appreciation, and Althea let out an exasperated sigh.
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