Page 3 of The Billionaire's Demand

The cynicism—the unspoken accusation over their own thwarted marriage—was open in his voice, but she would not flinch. She simply headed inside. She would find Chloe, then escape.

Escape, escape, escape—dear God, just get out of here!

Her friend saw her, gave a cry of pleasure.

‘Elli, you came! I’m so, so pleased. Andreas—here is Eliana, one of my dearest friends for ever! And with her is—’

She stopped short. Suddenly silenced.

Leandros wanted to laugh, but if he did, he knew it would be a savage sound. A snarl. As it was, he leashed his response into a terse, tight-lipped throwaway.

‘Don’t read anything into it. It’s chance, that’s all.’

Malign chance—mocking him.

Had he known—had he had the slightest idea that Eliana would be here—he’d never have shown his face. But it was too late now.

He let Andreas’s parents introduce him to their son’s fiancée, and said whatever it was that the occasion required. As he uttered his pro forma good wishes, Eliana stepped a little aside, as if to increase the distance between them.

As if it were not infinite already.

She was talking to someone else—an older couple, whom he took to be the bride-to-be’s parents. He turned away, letting more guests approach the engaged couple, heading for the bar. He needed a drink—a stiff one. Then he’d get out of here.

As for Eliana—

He blanked his mind—blanked her name. Blanked her very existence. Just as he had for six long years. As he would go on doing. Because anything else was unthinkable.

She’s out of my life—and she’s staying out.

But as he knocked back his shot of whisky at the bar he could still see her, imprinted on his retinas.

As beautiful as ever...hauntingly beautiful...

He slammed the empty glass down on the bar. He needed another shot.

Eliana stepped inside her room at the small two-star hotel which was all she could afford with a sense of shuddering relief. She stripped off her evening gown—a leftover from the days before her marriage. Her hands were shaking, heart hammering painfully. Weak suddenly, she sank down on the bed.

Oh, dear God, she had seen him again! Seen Leandros!

She had not set eyes on him since that hideous day when she’d slid his ring from her finger, told him she was not going to marry him, and walked away from him.

Gone to the man she was going to marry instead.

Shock broke over her at what had happened this evening, delayed and all the more devastating for it. She felt her tremors increase, the hammering of her heart become more painful yet.

To see Leandros again and to know...to know...

That he hates me with as much hatred as he ever did! That I am as loathsome to him now as then!

He held her in contempt, and she deserved it—that was the hardest thing to bear. To bear as she had had to bear it for six long years. Since she had walked out on him, rejecting him for another man. A man she hadn’t loved—a man she had married only for his money.

Guilt bit at her for what she had done to Leandros—the man she had once loved, whose love for her she had destroyed with her faithlessness.

And she felt guilt of another kind too—survivor guilt. For the man she had married instead of Leandros was now dead—smashed to pieces in a fatal car crash eighteen months ago.

Well, she was getting her just deserts now. She’d married for money, but widowhood had taken that away from her, reduced her to the poverty she had married to avoid. A poverty she deserved, and to which she was now condemned, eking out what little she had. And even that small portion came with a claim on it she could not refuse...

As her thoughts went in that direction they gave her a crumb of comfort. If there was anything to salvage from the wreck she had made of her life, it was that.

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