Page 15 of Virgin's Night with the Greek

Well, she was tough enough to handle rejection, should it come to that. Fighting to establish a career in the notoriously tight-knit art world had strengthened her determination to go for what she wanted, and right now she wanted him and more of the excitement he’d shown her. Her mother’s sudden death had proved that life was short, and she’d far rather regret something she had done than something she hadn’t.

So, yielding to the instinct that was now drumming so insistently through her and blocking out the voice in her head demanding to know if she’d gone stark, raving mad, Willow galvanised into action. Because if Leowasleaving, then he wasn’t leaving alone.

The large silver car pulled up outside the hotel just as Leo pushed through the heavy glass door and emerged into the warm Athens night. He stashed the phone he’d used to summon it in the inside pocket of his dinner jacket and jogged down the steps to the pavement. With a brief nod at Stavros, the chauffeur who was now holding open the rear door nearest the kerb, he climbed in, instantly welcoming the peace and seclusion.

The door closed with a softthunk, shutting out the madness and the chaos, and relief flooded his system. He’d had such a lucky escape, he thought grimly, tugging at one end of his bow tie to loosen the knot, then undoing the top two buttons of his dress shirt and feeling as though he could breathe for the first time in hours.

Could he even begin to hope that his moment of complete and utter insanity had been witnessed by no one but his brother? It had been dark. The dance floor had been crowded. On the other hand, in a sea of more muted colours, Willow’s yellow dress drew attention and her eye-catching hair—so thick and soft and silky wrapped around his fingers—shone like a beacon.

But no.

He was being idiotic. He had nothing to worry about. Even if anyone had seen him lose his head, they wouldn’t risk his displeasure by gossiping about it. Many there tonight had lucrative business dealings with him. The rest sought them. There was no cause for concern. On that front, at least. Walking out on his sister’s wedding, however? That would not have gone unnoticed—at least, not by his family—which was yet another thing he’d no doubt have to deal with in the morning.

Leo sat back against the butter-soft leather and rubbed his eyes, a wave of weariness washing over him. He could sleep for a week. But he was flying to New York tomorrow evening to discuss a potential shipping merger that would add billions to the company’s bottom line, so that wasn’t happening. Once he’d tied things up there, he had a series of board meetings in London to host. And at some point he’d have to put a stop to the unveiling of a portrait that might well make him a global laughing stock if it went on show. Relaxing, taking some time out, was but a distant dream.

As was peace and seclusion clearly, because barely had Stavros taken his place behind the wheel when the other back door of the car suddenly flung open, shattering the silence and jolting him out of his thoughts. A second later, in a blur of colour, movement and sparkle, into the car and onto the seat slid Willow.

Leo jerked upright, his muscles rigid with tension. His heart crashed against his ribs and a powerful combination of shock and alarm pummelled through him.

What the hell?

‘Hi,’ she said with one of those dazzling smiles that had too often stunned him into speechlessness, but to which now, thanks to the swift reconstruction of his iron-clad control back there on the dance floor, he was immune.

‘Get out.’

‘That’s rude.’

He stared at her, barely able to believe his ears. She had a nerve. ‘What’s rude is you ambushing me in my car and invading my space.’

‘Needs must.’

He clenched his jaw. ‘What do you want, Willow?’

‘I was hoping you might be able to give me a lift.’

No. Absolutely not. It was out of the question. The back of his car, which he’d always considered airily spacious, suddenly felt unnervingly claustrophobic. When she’d hopped in, the oxygen had whooshed out. Her scent filled his head. Despite the ample width of the seat, he could feel the hot energy she radiated. And something else. Something that had the hairs on the back of his neck quivering and his pulse racing, which he needed like a hole in the head.

Ignoring the entire bloody lot of it, Leo reached into his jacket pocket and extracted his phone. ‘I’ll call you a cab.’

At that, Willow frowned. ‘No, no,’ she said, shaking her head, which made the beads in her hair catch the overhead light and twinkle. ‘That’s no good at all.’

‘Too bad.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘To bed.’

‘That will do.’

She settled back and made herself comfortable and he had to dig deep to quell both the furious frustration that surged inside him at her intransigence and the volcano of heat that erupted at the thought of her in his bed. ‘Are you going to do as I ask and get out of my car?’

‘No.’

Having shoved his phone back in his jacket pocket, Leo leaned forwards, pressed a button on the panel that separated the back from the front and said in English, ‘Stavros, please take Miss Jacobs wherever she wishes to go. I’ll walk.’

He turned to yank open the door, practically tasting fresh air and freedom, when suddenly her body slammed into his back and her hand landed on his arm. Leo froze. His senses reeled. Willow was curled around him in the darkness, and he could barely breathe.

‘OK, wait,’ she said, so close her warm breath tickled his neck while his arm appeared to be on fire. ‘Forget the lift. It was just an excuse. I wanted to talk to you.’

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