When Christakos Meets His Match Page 3

  She forced herself to relax her grip on her bag and said, in as calm a voice as she could muster, ‘Fine. I just thought that in light of...who you are...you might appreciate some more space. I mean physically. You’re not exactly...’ Sidonie stopped and bit her lip, slid her gaze from his uncomfortably.

  In an effort to distract him she started to take stuff out of her bag again: a book, papers...

  ‘I’m not exactly what?’

  Sidonie could hear the barely suppressed smile in his voice and it made her prickle at being such an object of humour for him.

  ‘You know very well what I mean...’ She waved a hand in his general direction. ‘You’re not exactly designed to fit into economy class, are you?’

  She could have sworn she heard a muffled snort but refused to look, thrusting her bag back down under the seat in front. She hated to acknowledge the zinging sensation in her blood, as if she’d been plugged into a mild electric current.

  She sat back and crossed her arms, and looked at him to find him regarding her with a small smile playing around his mouth. Lord. Almost accusingly she asked, ‘Why are you here anyway? Apparently you could be on a private jet rather than waiting here like the rest of us.’

  That green gaze was steady, unsettling.

  ‘It’s a spot-check. I like to do them from time to time, to make sure things are running smoothly.’

  Sidonie breathed out as something clicked in her brain. ‘Of course. I read about that.’

  He frowned and she clarified reluctantly, feeling hot and self-conscious. ‘You were a case study in my business module at college.’

  That information didn’t appear to be news to him. ‘What else did you study at college?’

  Embarrassed now, Sidonie admitted, ‘Technically I’m still in college... I had to leave before the start of my final year just over a year ago, due to personal events. I’m saving money to try and complete my course... My degree is in Business and French.’

  ‘What happened?’

  Sidonie looked at him. On some level she was shocked at his directness, but it was also curiously refreshing. She couldn’t seem to remove her gaze from his. The small space they occupied felt strangely intimate, cocoon-like.

  ‘I... Well, my father lost his construction business when the property boom crashed in Ireland. He struggled for a while but it was useless. He only managed to get himself into debt.’ Sidonie went cold inside. ‘He passed away not long afterwards. Everything was gone—the business, the house... College was paid for up to a point, but then the money ran out. I had to leave and work.’

  Sidonie felt uncomfortable under his gaze. It was intense, unsettling.

  ‘And why were you in Paris?’

  Sidonie arched a brow. ‘What is this? Twenty questions? What were you doing in Paris?’

  Alexio crossed his arms and Sidonie’s belly clenched when she saw how the muscles in his arm bunched under the thin silk of his shirt. She gulped and looked back into that hypnotising gaze.

  ‘I was in Milan yesterday at my brother’s wedding, he said. ‘Then I flew to Paris this morning to catch this flight, so that I could do my check while en route to London.’

  ‘Are you not concerned about missing your meeting?’

  Alexio smiled and the bottom dropped out of Sidonie’s belly.

  ‘It’s not ideal, but they’ll wait for me.’

  Of course they would, she thought faintly. Who wouldn’t wait for this man?

  ‘So,’ he said patiently, ‘now will you tell me why you were in Paris?’

  Sidonie looked at him and unbidden a lump came to her throat for her wayward. selfish mother and her poor Tante Josephine who was so worried. She swallowed it down.

  ‘I was here to meet with a solicitor to deal with my mother’s affairs. She passed away in Paris a couple of months ago. She’d been living with my aunt; she’s from here originally.’ She corrected herself. ‘Was from here, I mean. She moved back after my father died.’

  Alexio uncrossed his arms and his expression sobered. ‘That’s rough—to lose both parents in such a short space of time. I lost my mother too—five months ago.’

  Sidonie’s chest tightened. A moment of empathy. Union. ‘I’m sorry... It’s hard, isn’t it?’

  His mouth twisted. ‘I have to admit that we weren’t that close—but, yes, it was still a shock.’

  That feeling intensified in Sidonie’s chest. She revealed huskily, ‘I did love my mum, and I know she loved me, but we weren’t that close either. She was very...self-absorbed.’

  Suddenly the plane lurched into movement and Sidonie’s hands went to grab the armrests automatically as she looked out of the window. ‘Oh, God, we’re moving.’

  A dry voice came from her left. ‘That’s generally what a plane does before it takes off.’

  ‘Very funny,’ muttered Sidonie, and their recent conversation was wiped from her mind as she battled with the habitual fear of flying she faced.

  ‘Hey, are you okay? You look terrible.’

  ‘No,’ Sidonie got out painfully, knowing she’d probably gone ashen. Her eyes were closed. ‘I’m not okay, but I will be if you just leave me alone. Ignore me.’

  ‘You’re scared of flying? And you’re taking two flights to Dublin? Why didn’t you just take a direct flight?’ Now he sounded censorious.

  ‘Because,’ Sidonie gritted out, ‘it worked out cheaper to do it this way, and the direct flights were all full anyway. It was short notice.’

  The familiar nausea started to rise and she clamped her mouth shut, feeling cold and clammy. She tried not to think back to the huge breakfast her Tante Josephine had insisted on them both having before they’d left on their respective journeys. It sat heavily in her belly now.

  The plane was moving in earnest; this was always the worst part—and the take-off. And the landing. And sometimes in between if there was turbulence.

  ‘Did something happen to make you scared?’

  Sidonie wished he would just ignore her, but bit out, ‘What? You mean apart from the fact that I’m miles above the earth, surrounded by nothing but a bit of tin and fibreglass or whatever planes are made of?’

  ‘They’re actually made mainly of aluminium, although sometimes a composite of metals is used, and in newer technology they’re looking at carbon fibre. My brother designs and builds cars, so we’re actually looking into new technologies together.’

  Sidonie cracked open one eye and cast Alexio a baleful glance. ‘Why are you telling me this?’

  ‘Because your fears are irrational. You do know that air travel is the safest form of travel in the world?’

  Sidonie opened both eyes now and tried to avoid seeing outside the plane. She looked at Alexio. That didn’t really help, she had to admit.

  She said somewhat churlishly, ‘I suppose that the likelihood of the plane going down while its owner is on board is not very high.’

  He looked smug. ‘See?’

  Then he leant closer, making her pulse jump out of control.

  ‘And did you know that of all the seats on the plane these are the safest ones to be in—in the event of a crash?’

  Sidonie’s eyes widened. ‘Really?’

  She saw humour dancing in those golden depths and clamped her eyes shut again while something swooped precariously in her belly.

  ‘Very funny.’

  Then the plane jerked and Sidonie’s hands tightened on the armrests. She heard a deep sigh from beside her and then felt her left hand being taken by a much bigger one. Instantly she was short of breath which she could ill afford to lose.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she squeaked, very aware of how tiny her hand felt in his.

  ‘If it’s all right with you, I’d prefer it if you abused me rather than my armrests.’

>   Sidonie opened her eyes again and glanced left. Alexio was looking stern, but with a twitch of a smile playing around his mouth. Lord, oh, Lord. She said, a little breathlessly, ‘I think somehow that your armrests can withstand my feeble attempts to bend them out of shape.’

  ‘Nevertheless,’ Alexio replied easily, ‘I won’t let it be said that I couldn’t offer support to a valued customer in her hour of need.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  SOMETHING HOT AND shivery went through Sidonie’s body. He was flirting with her. She felt as if she was teetering on the edge of a huge canyon, with the exhilaration of the fall reaching out to beckon her into the unknown. He was so utterly gorgeous, and so charming when he turned it on. It was smooth, practised. And she was no match for a man like him.

  With her body screaming resistance, Sidonie pulled her hand free from his grip and smiled tightly. ‘I’ll be fine. But, thanks.’

  His eyes flashed for a second, as if he were taken aback or surprised. The regret in Sidonie’s body was like a sharp pang.

  She clasped her hands in her lap, well out of reach, and turned her head, closing her eyes so that she didn’t have to look out of the window. Her battle with fear as the plane took off was being eclipsed by her need not to show it to the man beside her.

  More than once she wished that he’d take her hand again. His palm had felt ever so slightly callused. The hands of a working man, not a pampered man.

  ‘You can open your eyes now. The seatbelt sign is about to go off.’

  Sidonie took a deep breath and opened her eyes, releasing her hands from their death grip on each other. Alexio was looking at her. She had the impression that he’d been looking at her the whole time. She felt clammy. Hot.

  He held out his hand then, and said, ‘I believe you already know who I am, but I don’t know who you are...’

  He wasn’t backing off. Butterflies erupted in Sidonie’s belly again. She couldn’t ignore him. She put her hand in his, unable to help a small smile which was only in part to do with the trauma of take-off being over.

  ‘Sidonie Fitzgerald—pleased to meet you.’

  He clasped her hand and once again an electric current seemed to thrum through her blood.

  ‘Sidonie...’ he mused. ‘It sounds French.’

  ‘It is. My mother chose it. I told you she was French.’

  ‘That’s right...you did.’

  He was still holding her hand and Sidonie felt as if she was overheating. ‘Did they just turn the heating up?’

  ‘You do look hot. Maybe you should take your sweatshirt off.’

  He finally released her hand and it tingled. Faintly, Sidonie said, ‘I’m sure I’ll be fine...’ She had no intention of baring herself to this man’s far too assessing gaze.

  It was then that Sidonie remembered what they’d been talking about. The fact that they’d both lost their mothers recently. That feeling of kinship. Feeling exposed now, she looked away and reached for her book. She held it for a minute and then turned to Alexio again. He had put his head back against the seat, closed his eyes. She felt ridiculously deflated for a moment.

  But then she realised she could drink him in unobserved. His profile was patrician. His eyes deep-set, with long dark lashes. His cheekbones would have made a woman weep with envy, but the stark lines of his face took away any pretty edges.

  His jaw was firm, even in repose, and she could see the faint stubbling of fresh beard growth. A spasm of lust gripped her between her legs, taking her by surprise. She’d never experienced such raw desire. She’d had a couple of boyfriends at college and had had sex, but it had all been a bit...bland. A lot of fuss over nothing. Mildly excruciating. The guys had certainly seemed to enjoy it more than she had.

  She could imagine, though, that this man knew exactly what to do...how to make a woman feel exactly as she should. Especially a man with a mouth like his...sensual and wicked. Hard lines but soft contours... Sidonie pressed her legs together to stop the betraying throb between them. She hadn’t even known she had a pulse there, but she could feel it now, like a beacon.

  ‘It’s rude to stare, you know.’

  Sidonie sprang back. Cheeks flaming. One lazy eye had opened and was focused on her, seeing her mortification.

  She spluttered, ‘How did you know?’

  Before she could feel any more embarrassed he bent down and his head of thick dark hair, closely cropped to his skull, came dangerously near to her thighs. Heat bloomed from Sidonie’s groin.

  Then he straightened up, holding her book in his hand. He took a quick glance at the title before handing it back to her and commenting dryly, ‘Techniques for Analysing Successful Business Structures? That’s bound to send you to sleep.’

  Sidonie scowled and took the book from him jerkily. ‘I’m trying to keep up with my course so that when I go back I won’t be too rusty.’

  Alexio dipped his head. ‘Very commendable.’

  Sidonie felt defensive and wasn’t even sure why. ‘Some of us have to study the subject. We don’t have the natural ability or the support to be able to launch a stratospherically successful business first time.’

  His mouth tightened and Sidonie knew she’d raised his hackles.

  ‘I didn’t have any support—or did your case study not cover that?’

  Sidonie flushed and looked down, inspecting a spot of dirt on her jeans. She looked up again. ‘I didn’t mean it to sound like that... It’s common knowledge that you turned your back on your inheritance... However, you can’t deny that your background must have given you confidence and an anticipation of success that most mere mortals mightn’t feel or experience.’

  His face relaxed somewhat and Sidonie felt herself relax too. Weird.

  ‘You’re right,’ he surprised her by admitting. ‘After all, I grew up absorbing my father’s business nous whether I want to admit it or not. And I had the best education money could buy... My brother is also a successful entrepreneur, so I learnt from him too.’

  Sidonie was itching to ask him why he’d turned his back on his inheritance, but just then the stewardess turned up with a trolley, smiling winsomely at Alexio. Sidonie felt the most bizarre rise of something hot and visceral. Possessiveness. It shocked her so much that she shrank back.

  Her sweatshirt felt hot and constricting, even more so now, and Sidonie longed to feel cool. While Alexio was distracted, ordering some coffee from the woman, Sidonie whipped it over her head—only to emerge seconds later to find two pairs of eyes on her. The distinctly cold blue of the stewardess and a green gaze, intent and disturbing.

  ‘What...?’ She looked from Alexio to the woman, who now spoke to her in tones even cooler than her arctic gaze.

  ‘Would you like some tea or coffee, madam?’

  In fluent French Sidonie replied that she would love some tea. She could sense the small smile playing around Alexio’s mouth without even looking. Her skin prickled as she put down her table and accepted the steaming tea. She felt exposed now, in her loose singlet top, even though it was layered over another one.

  Before she could reach for her purse Alexio had paid for her drink as well as his. Not a welcome move, according to the pursed lips of the stewardess who moved on with barely disguised huffiness.

  Alexio seemed oblivious, though.

  ‘Thank you,’ Sidonie said. ‘You didn’t have to do that.’

  He shrugged. ‘It’s nothing—my pleasure.’

  Sidonie shivered a little to think of his pleasure.

  To get away from such carnal imaginings, she remarked, ‘How is it beneficial to do a spot-check on one of your planes if everyone knows who you are?’ He quirked a brow at her as he took a sip of coffee and Sidonie blustered a bit. ‘Well, you know what I mean. That stewardess will obviously be doing her best to impress.’

&nbs
p; ‘True,’ he conceded, and put his cup down.

  Sidonie was acutely aware of how dark his hands looked against the cup, how large.

  ‘But I never inform them when I’m coming, and I’m not just interested in the behaviour of my staff—it’s everything. I can overhear the passengers’ observations too.’

  Sidonie frowned. ‘But don’t you have people who work for you who can do this sort of thing and report back?’

  Alexio shrugged minutely. ‘I have to go to London today—why not take one of my own commercial flights? If I expect others to do it then I should be able to, too. I am aware of my carbon footprint. I have a responsibility.’

  Sidonie could see unimstakable pride in his business on his face. She nodded her head. ‘It’s smart. Because if anyone ever criticises you you can say that you know first-hand what it’s like to fly on your budget flights. And,’ she added, warming to her theme, turning more towards Alexio, ‘it gives the customer a sense of kinship with you. You’re one of the people.’

  He smiled. ‘That too. Very good, business student. It’s a pity you had to drop out.’

  Sidonie glanced away, uncomfortable again under that gaze. It was as if he could see right through her to a place she wasn’t even aware of herself. Some secret part she’d not explored yet.

  ‘So your mother was French...and your father?’

  Sidonie rolled her eyes and said lightly, ‘Back to twenty questions again?’

  She sat back and tried not to notice how confined the space was. Their elbows kept touching lightly when they moved. Their thighs would be touching if she shifted hers towards him by about an inch. His legs were so long he had to spread them wide.

  Instantly warm again, Sidonie answered before he could comment. ‘My father was Irish. My mother went to Dublin many years ago...she met my father and stayed in Dublin and they got married.’

  Sidonie slid her gaze from Alexio’s, afraid he might see something of her very deep shame revealed. It wasn’t exactly the way things had happened, but near enough. He didn’t need to know the darker secrets of her parents’ relationship and her origins. Or about subsequent shattering events.