Emma Darcy - Irresistible Greeks - Red-Hot and Rich - His Reputation Precedes Him / An Offer She Can't Refuse / Pretender to the Throne

All the colour drained from Eva’s cheeks. She knew that every word Markos spoke was the truth. Oh, not about Glen. But she was frightened—of Markos, and of what he made her feel when she was with him.

She didn’t want to feel that way about any man. After her divorce she had been relieved to feel so numb, to know that she would never again have to go through the pain of a broken relationship.

To now realise that Markos Lyonedes had penetrated her emotions, if only on a physical level, was not a welcome revelation.

‘Has anyone ever told you that you have an ego the size of Manhattan?’ She snorted disgustedly.

‘Not that I recall, no.’ He gave a slow and confident smile. ‘Was anything I said to you just now untrue?’

Her mouth thinned. ‘I’m not afraid of you.’

‘Then why not prove it by agreeing to redesign the interior of my apartment?’

Eva gave a disbelieving shake of her head. ‘I’m twenty-nine, Markos, not nine, and as such I’m not about to be goaded into a juvenile game of dare with you. Especially when I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to accept a commission from you.’

‘Kirsty is going to be so disappointed about that,’ he murmured regretfully.

‘Kirsty?’ she repeated warily.

‘Kirsty Foster. Her husband, Gerry, is my PA, and she was the one who recommended your work to me,’ he added pleasantly.

Ordinarily Eva would have been pleased to have her work so appreciated by one of her previous clients that they had chosen to recommend her to their friends. And she liked Kirsty Foster. The two women had remained friends even after Eva had completed the work on Kirsty’s bedroom, often meeting for coffee and a chat. Not so much recently, Eva recalled guiltily, as the other woman’s blossoming pregnancy was a painful reminder of her own aching hunger for a baby.

But Kirsty was the one who had recommended her work to Markos Lyonedes. The same Markos Lyonedes who employed Kirsty’s husband, Gerry…

Eva’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you threatening me, Markos…?’

He eyed her innocently. ‘I was merely commenting that Kirsty’s husband works for me.’

‘Which sounds suspiciously like a threat to me!’

His lips twitched with repressed humour. ‘That’s your prerogative, of course.’

Eva didn’t know whether to admire him for his audacity or lambast him for his arrogance. Either way, she couldn’t work for a man she didn’t even like…

Lying to herself wasn’t going to make this situation any easier, Eva immediately chastised herself. The problem was not that she didn’t like Markos Lyonedes, but that a single kiss had shown her that physically she liked him too much. Eva had been convinced she would never— could never—feel again. She was determined not to feel physical desire for any man when she knew it would ultimately lead to more pain and disillusionment.

‘What are you thinking about…?’ Markos had watched Eva’s expressions during the last few minutes of silence between them.

Had seen the dismay. The confusion. Followed by the doubt. And then what had looked like pained anguish. All of them emotions he would never previously have associated with the prickly and confident Eva.

She shook herself out of that mood of despondency with obvious effort. ‘I was just… Obviously if Kirsty recommended me—perhaps we could reschedule another meeting for later in the week?’ She gave a tight smile as she saw his sceptical expression. ‘I promise not to cancel this time.’

Markos regarded her through narrowed lids. ‘You never did say what the emergency was last Monday.’

Her smile turned to a look of exasperation. ‘A client was having hysterics when the curtain material I had ordered, which I duly took round for her to approve before the curtains were made up, turned out not to be exactly the same colour as her husband’s eyes after all.’

Markos’s eyes widened. ‘People really do things like that?’

She laughed softly. ‘You would be surprised. I had a client a couple of years ago who matched the colour of her carpet to her Golden Labrador.’

‘Must have made it difficult to find him when it came time to go for a walk!’ Markos murmured—only to watch in satisfaction as Eva’s laughter deepened, causing her eyes to glow a deep gold. ‘Have dinner with me tomorrow evening,’ he prompted abruptly.

‘To discuss the changes you’d like in your apartment?’

‘To discuss any damn thing you please.’

‘I was trying to tell you earlier…’ Eva frowned. ‘I make a point of never mixing my professional life with my personal one.’

‘So it’s one or the other?’

Eva instantly added stubborn determination to the list of things she was rapidly discovering about Markos Lyonedes. ‘I believe I’ve already taken you on as a client by agreeing to look at your apartment.’

‘And if I would prefer to have dinner with you tomorrow evening instead?’

Eva’s breath caught in her throat as her eyes widened. ‘Would you…?’

He frowned darkly. ‘Why don’t we compromise and make our next appointment in my apartment tomorrow evening at seven-thirty? That way I can arrange for us to have dinner together immediately afterwards, so that we can discuss any suggestions you might have.’

Manipulative determination. Eva wryly corrected that earlier addition to her ever-growing list of Markos’s character attributes. ‘I’m starting to see how you gave your Aunt Karelia grey hair!’

Markos gave a grin. ‘Does that mean you accept my invitation?’

Did it? There were so many reasons why Eva shouldn’t have dinner with Markos tomorrow evening—this man’s callous treatment of her cousin being only one of them. But—and she inwardly apologised to Donna—that certainly wasn’t the main reason Eva would prefer not to have dinner with Markos—tomorrow evening or any other time.

She straightened briskly. ‘I don’t think so, but thank you for asking.’

Markos eyed her frustratedly, knowing it wasn’t just the desire to have Eva in his bed that made him so determined. He also enjoyed her company. He appreciated the spirited way she stood up to him. The way her dry sense of humour was more than a match for his own. And he couldn’t help feeling curious as to what Eva had been thinking about earlier when she’d looked so wistful.

He raised dark brows. ‘And if I intend to keep on asking…?’

She shrugged. ‘Then I’ll just have to keep on refusing.’

‘And if I manage to wear you down…?’

‘You won’t.’ She smiled.

‘You sound very sure,’ Markos said knowingly.

‘I am.’ She nodded.

Had any woman turned him down so emphatically before? Markos wondered with a frown. Not that he could ever remember, no. And, again, that wasn’t arrogance talking—it was just a fact. Nor did he believe it was only Eva’s reluctance to see him again that made her so attractive to him.

Everything about Eva intrigued him. Even her obvious boredom on Saturday evening with the other guests at the cocktail party—including him—as if she had attended one too many parties just like it and met one too many arrogant men to be impressed by yet another one.

That behaviour had been completely nullified by her heated response to him a few minutes ago—before she had shut down that response with the finality of a steel trapdoor closing about her emotions.

And what had seemed like an expression of sadness, even anguish, only added to the mystery and contradiction that was fast becoming Evangeline Grey.

Markos sensed Eva had secrets hidden behind those beautiful golden eyes. Several of them. Secrets he was longing for Eva to share with him.