Page 84 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 5-8

“Do you do this deliberately?” he asked her as he took in what she was working on, there in the large office suite in its own wing of the carriage house. “Do you ignore what you are told because it makes you feel better to think you’re doing this all by yourself?”

“This might come as a great shock to you,” Jolie replied to him in that sharply serene manner of hers, complete with that smile that might as well have been a dagger, “but I do not spend a great deal of time thinking about you at all.”

He stopped at the desk where she was sitting, and leaned back against it so she had no choice but to lift her gaze to him. “Liar.”

Jolie sat back in her chair, and he thought that while she might have looked languid from a distance—he was closer than that. That meant he could see the awareness in her gaze. He could see the faint hint of color in her cheeks.

No matter what she said, she was not unaffected.

And that, in turn, affected him.

Tremendously.

But he knew better than to show his hand again so soon. That night when she’d teased him and left him standing there in the hall, wild with frustrated need, haunted him.

In more ways than one.

Back when he’d believed she was a useless bit of fluff he could simply maneuver around as he pleased.

“What is it that you want from this interaction, Apostolis?” she asked, and there was a hint of impatience in her voice—perhaps more than a hint—but he could see the truth in her gaze. There was a heat there that had nothing to do withimpatience. He could read that, clear as day. “I walked into the office this morning, these things weren’t done, and so I’m doing them. That’s all it is. Not everything is a plot against you.” She shook her head as if she’d never heard of something so silly. “Why do you think that it is?”

Apostolis thought about the conversation that he’d had with Alceu. And he also thought about strategy. He told himself it had nothing to do with the fact that she wasn’t looking at him as if he was a science experiment when she asked the question.

Not at the moment, anyway. She looked as if she was genuinely interested.

“Have you not heard?” he asked lightly. “My father was always disappointed in my business acumen. I feel certain he would have mentioned it. He and I spoke of very little else on the rare occasions we spoke.”

“Your father liked cocktail parties,” she replied in the same tone. “He left the business to me. And that was a fairly overwhelming task, most days, so I did not spend a lot of time worrying about anyone else’sbusiness acumen.”

He frowned at that. “What are you saying? He can’t possibly have let you run the whole of the hotel business all on your—”

But he cut himself off, because why was he astonished to hear such a thing? He was well-versed in his father’s hypocrisy. He had lived it.

“Your father had a business manager many years ago to do all of this. Firing him was one of the first things I did when I arrived.” Her smile sharpened as she looked up at him, as if defying him to argue once again that none of this could be true. That he still doubted what he had seen unfold in all parts of the hotel, before his very eyes, since their marriage. “And if you’re wondering if anyone took a young woman like me seriously at first, the answer is no. Of course they didn’t. But it didn’t matter. Your father wanted to continue on as he had always done. He liked to be the life of the party, but he didn’t like toplanthe party. And as it turns out, my education made me a perfect fit for party planner extraordinaire.”

They both seemed to realize they were actuallytalkingto each other for a change at the same time. It clearly shook her as much as it did him.

Jolie stood. Apostolis straightened from the desk.

For a moment, maybe two, they frowned at each other as if there was atrick, here. As if one of them haddone somethingto force this unheard-of moment of accord.

“And here I thought your marriage to my father was blissful in every regard,” he heard himself say, but it wasn’t as scathing as he’d meant it to be.

Surely he’dmeantit to be.

“It had its ups and downs.” Jolie’s chin rose just slightly as she said it. Just enough to hint at defiance without entirely committing to it. “You seem overly interested in my previous relationship. If I were you, I’d worry a little bit more about this one.”

“But I have heard your relationship with my father described asaffectionate,”he reminded her, with, perhaps a little too much sardonic inflection in his voice, if such a thing existed. “Surely this cannot all have been a mirage.”

Her eyes flashed and he expected her to strike back at him—but instead, she shook her head. A bit as if she despaired of him. Or was exhausted by him.

Not the reaction most women had to his presence, he could admit.

“You think that everything is about greed,” she said in her quiet way that still managed to land hard. “That tells me that the only thing you think about is greediness—maybe other people’s, maybe your own. Meanwhile, there are other reasons in this world to do things that others might find unpalatable. That you might find hard to bear yourself. I’m happy for you, Apostolis, that you’ve never had to make such choices.”

This was as close to an admission that things had not been wonderful with his father as she’d ever given him.

“Tell me,” he said, suddenly seized with an urgency that he did not understand. “Just once, tell me the truth. Why did you marry him?”

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