The Virgin's Secret Page 3

  ‘I will,’ he bit out. ‘But not before we’ve proved your words to be a lie.’

  Before Angel could take a breath he’d cupped her face in both his hands, stepped right up to her body, and his mouth was crashing down onto her shocked open one with all the force of a huge wave. Her hands covered his in a hazy attempt to remove them, and she struggled against the onslaught, but it felt like going against the strongest current.

  Her open mouth had provided an unwitting invitation to his, and his tongue stabbed deep and plundered, seeking hers, sucking it deep. To be kissed so intimately shook her to her core.

  Her body had stiffened with the shock of his action, but a spreading, melting sensation was quickly taking over. The urge to fight was becoming more and more distant. All Angel could feel was the sinewy strength of those hands. They were so big that he was cradling her entire head, long fingers threading through her hair, massaging her scalp. And all the while his mouth and tongue were sucking her down into a deep spiral of the unknown.

  When she stopped trying to pull his hands away she would never know. Nor would she be able to say when she moved her own hands and arms to wind their way up and over his shoulders.

  She only knew that all reality had ceased to exist as they kissed and kissed with furious intensity. Their bodies were tight together and she pressed against the long, lean hardness of him. The thundering beating of their hearts was drowning out voices, concerns. She strained against him, on tiptoe to get even closer…could feel the unmistakable signs of his burgeoning arousal, and when she felt that her brain melted completely.

  And then all of a sudden it was over, and he was stepping back from her. Angel made an awfully betraying move towards him, as if loath to let him go, her hands still out-stretched from where they’d been wrapped like clinging vines around his shoulders. It was only then that she noticed her hands were held in his…. and the awful suspicion arose. Had he had to forcibly take them down? Mortification flooded Angel even as she tried to assess the situation, gather her scattered nerves. Her heart still hammered. She was mute. Dizzy.

  Leonidas Parnassus just looked at her, his face flushed…with anger? Or satisfaction that he’d proved himself right? Angel’s mortification rose to a new level.

  A discreet cough came from close by, and then a voice.

  ‘Sir? If you could join your father inside now…please?’

  Leonidas just looked at Angel, nothing given away on his face. It held a steely imperviousness that she would never have guessed the teasing man she’d met earlier to possess.

  ‘I’ll be right in.’ Leonidas pitched his voice to reach the hovering staff member, but his eyes never left hers. He seemed to be utterly in control, apart from that betraying colour in his cheeks. She felt as if she was unravelling at the seams.

  ‘I—’ Angel began ineffectually.

  He cut her off with an autocratic, ‘Wait for me here. I’m not done with you yet.’

  And with that he turned on his heel, and Angel watched him stride powerfully back into the thronged room, raking a hand through his hair as he did so. His back was huge and broad in the black of his tuxedo.

  She couldn’t believe what had just happened.

  In shock she put a finger to her mouth, where her lips felt plump and bruised. Thoroughly kissed. In a fresh rush of embarrassment and disgust Angel could remember wantonly arching her body even closer to his…almost as if she’d wanted to climb into his skin. Not even in the most passionate moment of her relationship with Achilles had she felt that intensity of desire, every thought wiped clean from her mind. But then, she recalled bitterly, that had been part of the problem…

  Angel felt raw and exposed, and painful memories were surging back, as if it wasn’t awful enough to deal with what had just happened.

  She heard a hush descend on the crowd in the salon, and searched for some means of escape. Finally, growing desperate, she spotted where some steps led down from the patio to the lower levels, and presumably back around to the kitchen. Hurrying down, she knew that she could forget about her job. The incident with the wine would have sealed her fate anyway; her disappearance with the guest of honour would have merely ensured it.

  If her boss hadn’t known the significance of who she was, he soon would, and she didn’t want to be around to witness that.

  Down in the kitchen she grabbed her things, and then crept out and headed down the drive, away from the glittering villa, not looking back once.

  Leo stood and listened to his father’s unashamedly emotional speech, Georgios Parnassus made no secret of the fact that he was ready to hand over the reins of power to Leo. The prospect of a shift in power had been evident in the room instantaneously. Again, Leo felt that welling of some ancient pride, that sense of right to be here. While he wasn’t going to give the old man the satisfaction of capitulating so easily, he couldn’t deny the sense of needing to stake his own claim to his birthright, the birthright that had been stolen from him.

  His old man was no fool. No doubt he’d banked on exactly this by asking him to come to Greece, but Leo was not about to let him see that he might have won so soon.

  Even while Leo was able to function and articulate his thoughts and intentions as the rapturous applause died away after his father’s speech and the din of conversation rose again, his body still hummed with desire for the woman he’d left outside on the patio. He flicked a glance to the doors, once again open, but couldn’t see her. Irritation prickled to think she might have moved. He’d told her to wait for him. He was trapped now, though, by the usual sycophants, all vying to get a slice of him.

  He chafed to leave, to get back outside, finish what they’d started, and that irked him. Here he was at the potential forking of the road in his life, a huge moment, and all he could think about was a sexy waitress who’d had the temerity to blow hot and cold and then hot again. Anger gripped him, surprising him. He’d never encountered that before. He’d had women play hard to get in an effort to snag his interest and it never worked. He didn’t indulge in games. The women in his life were experienced, mature…and knew the score. No emotional entanglement and no game-playing.

  But when she had looked at him as if he’d been some callow youth trying to maul her…he’d seen red. He’d never felt that singular desire before to prove someone wrong, to imprint himself on a woman. He’d never felt such a ruthless need to kiss anyone like that…and then, when he’d felt her initial struggle fade, when he’d felt her grow hot and wanton in his arms, kissing him back almost as if her life—

  ‘Georgios couldn’t have been more obvious—so, are you ready to take the bait, Parnassus?’

  Leo was so helplessly deep in his thoughts that it took a second for his brain to function and come back into the room. The fawning crowd surrounding him was gone. He blinked and saw that Aristotle Levakis, his father’s business partner, was looking at him expectantly. Leo liked Ari Levakis; they’d worked closely together at the time of the merger, albeit with Leo based in New York. But, much to his chagrin now, he had to force himself to remember what Ari had just said.

  He couldn’t shake the building tension, wanting to get back out to her. What if she’d gone? He didn’t even know her name. He forced himself to smile and joked, ‘You think I’m going to discuss it with you and have any decision I make all over Athens by morning?’

  Ari tutted good-naturedly. Leo tried to concentrate on their conversation even as he looked for glossy brown hair piled high, exposing a delicate jaw and neck.

  He missed something Ari said then, and cursed himself. ‘I’m sorry, what did you say?’

  ‘That I was surprised to see her here. I saw you taking her outside—did you ask her to leave?’ Ari was shaking his head. ‘I’ll admit she has some nerve…’

  Leo went very still. ‘Her?’

  ‘Angel Kassianides. Tito’s eldest daughter. She was here working as a waitress… She spilt wine over Pia Kyriapoulos and you took her outside. I think everyone presumed tha
t you were telling her where to go.’ Ari looked around for a moment. ‘And I haven’t seen her since, so whatever you said worked.’

  Leo had an instant reaction to hearing the Kassianides name mentioned. It was the name of their enemy; a name that represented loss, pain, humiliation, and unbelievable heartache. He frowned, trying to understand. ‘Angel Kassianides…She’s a Kassianides?’

  Ari looked back and nodded, frowning when he saw Leo’s face. ‘You didn’t know?’

  Leo shook his head, his brain struggling to take in this information. Why would he know what Tito Kassianides’ children looked like? They’d not dealt directly with the Kassianides family during the merger. The merger itself had been all that was needed to precipitate their downfall. It had been a clean and sterile revenge, but it felt curiously insufficient now, when he’d been faced by one of them here tonight. When he’d kissed one of them.

  He felt acutely vulnerable; if Ari had recognised her, then who was to say that others hadn’t? He remembered how he’d led her outside with one thought in mind: getting her alone so he could explore his attraction, with no clue as to her identity. He let anger dispel the unwelcome feeling of vulnerability. Had she been planning some sort of incident? What the hell had she been playing at with him? Seducing him with those huge blue eyes and then trying to pretend she didn’t desire him? She’d been toying with him from that moment by the pool. Those widening eyes must have held recognition of who he was, not the mutual flash of attraction he’d believed it to be. The thought made bile rise. He hadn’t felt so exposed…ever.

  Had her father sent her, like some sort of pawn? Had the whole thing been an act? Leo’s entire body stiffened in rejection of that thought. Just then he saw his own father approaching, with a delegation of other men. He had no time to process this now, and for the rest of the evening Leo would have to act and smile and pretend that he didn’t want to rip off his bow tie, throw his jacket down and go and find Angel Kassianides and get her to answer some very pertinent questions.

  A week later, New York

  Leo stood at the huge window in his office that looked out over downtown Manhattan. The view was familiar, but he didn’t see it. All he could see, and all he had seen every time he closed his eyes since Athens, was Angel Kassianides’ angelic face, tipped up to his, eyelids fluttering closed, just before he’d kissed her. He laughed caustically to himself. Angel. Whoever had named her had named her well.

  He wrenched his mind away from Angel and thought of Athens. Not that he’d admit it to anyone yet, and certainly not his father, but Athens had changed something fundamental inside him. New York was spread out below him and he felt nothing. It was as if even though he’d been born and brought up here it had never claimed him. It didn’t resonate within him the way it once had. Now it was just a fast-living jumble of towering buildings.

  He’d even rung his mistress that morning, after avoiding her all week, which was not like him, and broken it off. Her histrionics still rang in his ear. But he hadn’t even felt a twinge of conscience. He’d felt relief.

  Angel. It irritated him how easily she kept inserting herself into his consciousness. He hadn’t been able to indulge in seeking her out and asking her just what the hell she’d been playing at in his father’s villa due to a crisis erupting here in his head office. A crisis that looked set to continue for at least a few weeks, much to his irritation. Not that it was serving to take his mind off her. He wasn’t used to women distracting his attention, and certainly not ones he hadn’t even slept with.

  Anger bubbled low within him. The feeling that he’d been made a fool of was a novel one, and not something he was prepared to allow for a moment longer. Angel Kassianides was playing with fire if she thought she could make a fool out of a Parnassus. Out of him. How dared she? After everything her family had done to his? On the very night of his public introduction to Athens society?

  Her sheer audacity struck him again. Evidently the Kassianides family weren’t content to let the past be the past. Did they want to rake up old enmity or worse, to fight to the death until they reined supreme again?

  Leo frowned. Perhaps they had the support of some of the old Athens elite? Perhaps the threat was something to be concerned about…? And then, he chastised himself. Maybe it was all nothing. A pure coincidence that Angel had been there that night.

  A small voice mocked: was it a coincidence that out of all the people there, she was the one you noticed? Leo’s hands fisted in his pockets. He was not going to let her get away with this.

  He turned around and picked up his phone and made a call. His conversation with the person on the other end was short and succinct. When he was finished he turned back to the view. Leo had just made a momentous announcement with the minimum of fuss: he was going to return to Athens and take over Parnassus Shipping. A tingling anticipation skated over his skin, made his blood hum.

  The thought of facing Angel Kassianides again and forcing her to explain herself made the blood fizz and jump in Leo’s veins. His jaw tightened as he fought the sudden surge of extreme impatience, a demand in his body that he act on his decision and go right now. He had things to do, his business in New York to sort out; a crisis at hand. He would bide his time and prepare, drive down this almost animalistic urge to leave. He assured himself that Angel Kassianides was not the catalyst behind his decision; but she was going to be one of his first ports of call.

  CHAPTER TWO

  A month later

  ANGEL’S heart hammered painfully. She felt a cold sweat break out all over her body. For the second time in just weeks she was in the worst place in the world: the Parnassus villa. She felt sick when she remembered what had happened out on the terrace. She closed her eyes and breathed deep. She could not be thinking of that now. Of Leo Parnassus. Of how he’d made her feel just before she’d found out exactly who he was. Of how it had been so hard to forget him.

  She opened her eyes again and tried to make out the rooms in the dim light. To her intense relief the place appeared to be empty, and she sent up silent thanks that for once the newspaper reports had been right. She’d read about Georgios Parnassus’ ailing health, and how he was taking a rest on a recently acquired Greek island. She felt the reassuring bulk of the document in the inside pocket of her jacket. This was why she was here. She was doing the right thing.

  Ever since it had been announced in the press just a few days ago that Leo Parnassus was taking over the reins of the Parnassus shipping fleet, and leaving New York to come back to Athens permanently, Angel had grown more skittish and her father more and more bitter and vitriolic, seeing any chance of redeeming himself diminish. A young, vibrant head of the Parnassus Corporation was a much bigger threat than the ailing father had been, despite their success.

  Angel had returned home from her new job yesterday to find her father cackling drunkenly over a thick document. He’d spotted her creeping through the hall and called her into the drawing room. Reluctantly she’d obeyed, knowing better than to annoy him.

  He’d gestured to the document. ‘D’you know what this is?’

  Angel had shaken her head. Of course she didn’t know.

  ‘This, dear daughter, is my ticket out of bankruptcy.’ He’d waved the sheaf of pages. ‘Do you realise what I’m holding here?’

  Angel had shaken her head again, an awful sick feeling creeping up her spine.

  Her father had slurred, ‘What I’m holding is the deepest, darkest secrets of the Parnassus family and their fate. Georgios Parnassus’ final will and testament. I now know everything. About all their assets, exactly how much they’re worth, and how he plans on distributing it all. I also know that his first wife killed herself. They must have hushed that up. Can you imagine what would happen if this was leaked to the right people? I can take them down with this.’

  I can take them down with this. Nausea had risen from Angel’s gut to think that after all these years, and after what the Parnassus family had been through, her father still wanted
to fuel the feud. He was so blinded by bitterness that he couldn’t see that doing something like this would make him and his family look even worse. Not to mention cause untold pain to the Parnassus family in revealing family secrets, if what he said about the suicide was true.

  ‘How did you get it?’

  Her father had waved a dismissive hand. ‘Doesn’t matter.’

  Familiar cold disgust had made Angel bite out, ‘You sent one of your goons to the villa to steal it.’

  Her father’s face had grown mottled, confirming what she’d said, or at least the fact that he had stolen it. She’d no idea how he had actually done it, but some slavishly loyal men still surrounded her father.

  Her father had become belligerent, clearly done with her. ‘What if I did? Now, get out of here. You make me sick every time I look at you and am reminded of your whore of a mother.’

  Angel was so used to her father speaking to her like that she hadn’t even flinched. He’d always blamed her for the fact that her glamorous Irish mother had walked out on them when Angel had been just two years old. She’d left the room, then waited for a while and gone back. Sure enough her father had passed out in his chair, one hand clutching the thick document, the other clutching an empty bottle of whisky to his chest. He’d been snoring loudly. It had been easy to slide the sheaf of pages out from his loosened fingers and creep back out.

  Early that morning she’d gone straight to work, taking the will with her, knowing that her father would still be passed out cold. And then, late that evening, she’d taken the journey up to the Parnassus villa, but had panicked momentarily when faced with a security guard and the enormity of what she had to do. She’d blurted out something about being at the function some weeks before and leaving something valuable behind.

  To her intense relief, after the unsmiling guard had consulted with someone, she’d been let in. To her further relief, when she’d reached the kitchens, she’d found no one and had crept up through the silent house, praying that she’d find the study. She’d leave the papers in a drawer and slip away again.