Now Rion knew what she had been hiding—why she had refused to go on the dive. And, worse, he realised that one exaggerated throwaway comment he had made had killed any hope he had of keeping Selina.
‘I know it is a lot to ask, because it is your precious business, but do me a favour when you speak to Bratchet again: don’t mention what I have told you. When you caught me on the phone the other night I wasn’t calling Aunt Peggy, but Trevor, to tell him I’d seen Bratchet and learnt he was heading back to the Far East. His sort never change, and with luck he might be caught and not be able to buy his way out again.’
‘You have my word,’ Rion promised quietly, but inside he was a seething mass of emotions—fury at Bratchet, and at himself for being so blind, so arrogant he had refused to recognise the love he felt for Selina until now, when she was leaving him.
‘Thank you. And, hey, look on the bright side. If Bratchet is arrested you might get his company even cheaper and we’ll both win,’ she said facetiously.
Rion slowly shook his head, the hint of a smile quirking the corners of his mouth. ‘You are an incredible lady, Selina.’ Sadly he resigned himself to the fact she was never going to be his. He didn’t deserve her after all he had done. ‘I’ll arrange you a flight back to England.’
‘No need. I have already got my flights booked for Cambodia. I usually spend a month every year helping Beth and Trevor—though it is only going to be three weeks this time.’
Her eyes lifted to his and Rion saw the disdain in their amber depths. He knew she was remembering why her trip had been cut short. As was he. And if it was possible to feel worse he did.
‘Then let me make a donation to the charity,’ he offered.
‘It is simple. Just mail the Taylor Foundation.’ Selina reeled off the e-mail address. ‘But I would make it anonymous. Beth is a real crusader for justice—much more high-minded than me.’
Rion didn’t try to stop her when she turned to leave. Didn’t even touch her. He didn’t dare.
‘Your luggage is in the car. I’ll tell the chauffeur to take you where you want to go.’
His original thought of persuading Selina to stay a night or two more with him, never mind marry him, was dead in the water and, moving to sit at his desk, he simply nodded as she walked out of the door.
Half an hour later Rion hadn’t moved, but still sat with his head in his hands. He knew with gut-wrenching certainty that the same day he had finally realised he loved Selina he had lost her …
The phone rang and he ignored it. His secretary walked in and he told her he was not to be disturbed for the rest of the day.
He glanced around his state-of-the-art office and rose to his feet to walk to the vast glass wall. He gazed out over Athens but it did nothing for him. He had health, wealth, work he enjoyed—a great life by any standard. Yet the one person he needed was forever unobtainable to him, and the pain was crippling.
SELINA stopped in the centre of the elegant foyer of the luxurious hotel in the centre of Rio that had been her home for the past ten days and turned to smile up at Antonio. Six foot tall, powerfully built and wearing a black tuxedo, white dress shirt and red bow tie, he was strikingly attractive—and a refreshingly honest man for all his wealth.
‘Thank you, Antonio, it was a lovely evening,’ she said. ‘And it has been a real pleasure working for you again. But I am leaving early in the morning so I will say goodbye now.’ She held out her hand but, ignoring it, he caught her shoulders and kissed her on both cheeks.
‘You could change your mind and accept my offer to stay on as my mistress,’ he prompted with a grin. ‘Currently I have a vacancy—in fact I will always have a vacancy for you, Selina.’
Stepping back, Selina laughed up at him, shaking her head. ‘You are incorrigible, Antonio—and, no, I could not. But if you ever need a translator again you know how to find me.’
‘True. And if you ever change your mind, Selina, or need me for anything you have my number. Call me. If I can’t have you as a lover I’ll settle for a friend.’ He smiled.
Selina saw the warmth in his dark eyes and was touched. ‘Thank you. I will. Goodbye.’ And, turning on her heel, she headed for the bank of elevators without looking back.
Once in her room, she gave a sigh of contentment as she closed the door. Another successful job completed, she thought and, kicking off her shoes, crossed to sit on the edge of the king-sized bed. She began unpinning her hair from its intricate chignon.
Antonio Soares, the head of the largest mining consortium in Brazil and with interests worldwide, was one of the good guys, Selina reflected. She had met him two months ago, as a client in Australia, and she had travelled to China with him. Then he had hired her again for a Chinese delegation visit to Brazil. The trip had been a success for both parties, and tonight had been the final celebratory dinner before the delegation left in the morning.
She finger-combed her hair, smiling. Antonio was a self-confessed womaniser but he was also fun, and he made her laugh with tales of the doyennes of Brazilian society who kept trying to get him to marry their daughters. He was like Rion in a way—he worked hard and played hard—but, unlike Rion, Antonio was not hard of heart. She had met his ten-year-old son, Eduardo, and knew his much-loved wife had died in childbirth and he had no intention of ever replacing her.
In fact, she thought, given a year or so to get over Rion she might even accept Antonio’s offer to be his mistress …
Rising to her feet, she reached around to untie the halter neck of her dress and paused. For the first time in the three months since leaving Rion she realised she was beginning to think more positively of the future, even considering another man. That had to be a sign she was getting better.
She was about to unfasten the bow at the back of her neck when she heard a loud knock on the door.
Odd, she thought, it was after eleven, and she had not ordered anything from room service. She walked towards the door, not intending to open it until she’d asked who it was. But she never got the chance. The door opened and a man walked in, slamming the door behind him.
‘You!’ Selina exclaimed, her eyes widening in shock even as her traitorous heart leapt as she recognised Rion. His hair was longer and falling over his brow, she noted, and his usual sartorial elegance had slipped a little. The superbly tailored navy suit he wore no longer fitted so well. The jacket was loose across his chest and he looked leaner, his handsome features honed to an even more chiselled edge.
‘What on earth are you doing here?’ she asked, shocked rigid. Her insides were shaking. ‘And how did you get in?’ Stupid question. ‘Never mind. Just get out or I will call the manager.’ She didn’t like the ferocious look on his face and suddenly she was afraid.
‘Call away, but it won’t do you any good. I own this hotel, I have a key, and I want to talk to you.’
‘Own the hotel?’ she parroted, a host of conflicting emotions flooding through her. ‘But how did you know I was here?’ she demanded.
Rion ran his hands through his hair. It was that or grabbing Selina, and he didn’t trust himself to touch her after witnessing the scene between her and Antonio Soares in the foyer. But he could not take his eyes off her. Her glorious hair tumbled around her bare shoulders and the golden-brown shot satin dress she wore revealed a tempting cleavage. The satin slid sensuously over her shapely body to the floor. She looked beautiful and sexy and she was driving him out of his mind.
Rion