Page 18 of Twins to Tame Him

Laila’s first instinct was to pack up the boys and run away, which was laughable in itself because where would she run to and from what. And she wasn’t the sort to run away from reality in the first place. This was her life now, even if disappointment clung like bitter bile to the back of her throat. What she needed was to get out of the villa, at least for a short while. Meet someone from her plane of reality to get her head screwed on right.

After all, this villa and the lifestyle and the man himself... They could all be from an alien planet she’d been thrust into.

She made arrangements with Paloma and her helpers early next morning so that she could have the afternoon for herself. She refused Annika’s offer to accompany her on her “shopping trip,” having already divided Annika’s loyalties enough to cause the rift of a lifetime. Sebastian was still avoiding her and the last thing she needed was to disclose her thorny feelings about him to her.

When Alexandros commanded in that steely voice of his that he’d arranged for a chopper to bring her to Athens, she’d almost lost her temper at him. But he wasn’t her culprit. And she was working hard on convincing herself that no one was.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but really was maybe thirty minutes, the chopper dropped her off on top of a skyscraper in the business district of Athens, close enough to the café that was her destination.

Laila took the elevator down to the boutique Annika had recommended. Not that she could afford anything more than a pair of shoelaces there, but to kill time before her friend was due.

When she stepped onto the sprawling thirty-second floor, with its shining mosaic floors and all-glass facades—clearly home to a host of exclusive, designer stores—the entire level was suspiciously empty. As was the boutique with its gleaming black marble floors, pristine white counters and a lingering expensive scent that made Laila feel like a wild creature in the plastic jungle.

Looking around the quiet space, she wondered if she’d somehow missed a local holiday. On further inspection, she found the boutique to be open, with a tall, stylish woman hovering around the entrance, looking at Laila as if she was a royal dignitary gracing the boutique with her magnanimous presence.

“Dr. Jaafri? Welcome,” the woman said. “I’m Natasha. The store and I are at your disposal for the next several hours.”

Laila opened her mouth, closed it, then followed the woman into the store. Now, she felt churlish for refusing Ani’s company when she’d clearly arranged everything for her. She spent the next hour pleasantly surprised when she tried out the collection of frothy silk dresses, soft-as-butter blouses and trousers she preferred for work that the woman picked out to suit her unusual frame of wide shoulders, small breasts and hippy...hips.

Even though she couldn’t really keep any of the pieces, Laila gave in to the pleasurable folly of trying dresses that were utterly unsuitable for her lifestyle and way out of her price range. Neither did she miss the fact that at these astronomical designer price tags, even her body could look damn good.

Two glasses of the most delicious champagne and two macarons later, she felt giddy enough to try a daring sleeveless little number in a burnt orange shade that did wonders for her golden brown complexion. The bodice was pretty much a strap around her breasts and then flared, falling a couple of inches above her knees, showing off her long legs.

Having thanked Natasha for helping her into it, Laila was about to look at herself when her nape prickled. She turned and heard the woman leave the room immediately, the door closing behind her.

Sebastian stood inside the room, immediately shrinking it in size.

In a leather jacket and dark denim that hugged his long legs, he looked like he could be one of the perfectly proportioned mannequins. Except no man made of synthetic materials could hold that warm, wicked light his gray eyes did. He looked how she imagined he’d look after a couple of nights of debauchery. Dark shadows clung to his eyes and there was at least two days’ worth of stubble on his jaw. Despite his disheveled state, there was a faint buzz of sensuality that emanated from him, as if he couldn’t help putting that particular vibe out.

Had he rolled out of that model’s bed an hour ago? Had he come here with that woman’s scent on him?

The tacky, jealousy-filled questions gave her whiplash as she fought to tamp them. None of my business didn’t really seem to work.

Even the fact that he might have been with another woman not an hour ago could diminish his appeal, though. She had to consciously work on tugging her gaze away from the V of his T-shirt, from the corded column of his throat, that hollow she desperately wanted to...lick and smush her face against.

“Did you miss me, Laila?”

“Excuse me?”

“You have that look in your eyes, the one that says you want to inhale me whole.”

Heat crested her cheeks. “That’s probably the champagne on an empty stomach. What are you doing here?” Suddenly, the empty building made sense.

“Alexandros informed me about your sudden expedition. The building was evacuated. I had this store open since Ani said you wanted to shop here.”

She swallowed and looked around. So, Natasha and the little surprise had been his doing? Because he wanted to assuage a guilty conscience? “Isn’t that a bit much?”

“Given there were hordes of reporters here half an hour ago, I would say not.”

“Reporters?” she repeated blankly. “Here? Why?”

“I’m not fond of saying I told you so. Smacks of self-righteous pride. I believe it might be because news got out that I have sons.” He pushed off the wall with a smooth grace, immediately giving her the impression that he was on the chase and she was his prey. “Alexandros said he barely got you to take the chopper. You should have—”

“I didn’t realize I was under house arrest. Or that I need your permission every time I need a break.”

Hands tucked into the back pockets of his trousers, chin tucked down, he stared at her. “Something is wrong. Is it Zayn? Has Nikos—?”

“They’re fine. Though Nikos won’t stop asking after you.”

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