‘No.’ Tahlia fought to keep the panic from her voice. If her father phoned Vantage he would learn from Thanos that there was no deal and never had been, that the offer to buy Reynolds had just been part of a cruel trick designed to punish her. This was her fault, she thought despairingly. If Vantage had not approached her father he would have sold Reynolds to one of the other firms who had been interested, and Carlton House would be safe.
‘Are you prepared to stand by and allow your father to lose the company…?’ Thanos’s voice mocked her. The thought had torn her apart, but she had rejected his solution, vowing to find another way to save Reynolds. The defeated note in her father’s voice now made it clear there was no other way. It was not simply the company that was in danger but Carlton House, and her parents’ happiness and peace of mind.
‘Each of us has something the other wants.’ Thanos was a billionaire who had the means to buy Reynolds, and in return he wanted…
A tremor ran through her. He wanted to have sex with her. She couldn’t do it, she thought wildly. But hard on the heels of that thought came the acknowledgement that she had no choice. Her father had admitted he was at rock bottom, and she was at the limit on her own overdraft and credit cards. She could not raise enough money to cover one mortgage repayment on Carlton, let alone clear the arrears.
‘There are just a couple of minor points that need clarification before Vantage agrees to the deal,’ she told her father, forcing herself to sound calm. ‘I’ll get back to them and sort it out. Can I speak to Mum?’ she asked quickly, before her father could argue.
‘Oh, yes—of course…’ There was a moment’s silence, and then Vivienne’s voice sounded down the line.
‘Tahlia! Isn’t it wonderful?’ she said tremulously. ‘I feel as though I’ve been given a second chance at life.’
The raw emotion in her mother’s voice tore at Tahlia’s heart, and she swallowed the tears that clogged her throat. ‘I hope you enjoy every minute of it, Mum,’ she whispered. ‘You and Dad deserve to be happy.’
And she would do everything in her power to help them, she vowed fiercely as she put down the phone. Even the unthinkable.
Thanos emerged from the en suite bathroom and padded across the bedroom to answer the phone, his brows lowering in a frown as he listened to the message relayed by the receptionist. He hesitated for a few moments, wondering why Tahlia Reynolds was standing in the lobby of his hotel at eleven o’clock at night, and silently acknowledged that he was intrigued.
‘Inform Miss Reynolds that I will see her in my suite in fifteen minutes,’ he murmured, before he replaced the receiver. It wouldn’t hurt Tahlia to cool her heels, and if the reason for her unexpected visit was sufficiently important she would wait until he was ready to see her. He also needed to get dressed—unless he intended to greet her wearing nothing but a towel around his hips. When he recalled his body’s involuntary reaction to her at their last meeting it was clear that clothes were a necessity, he conceded, his mouth curving into a self-derisive grimace.
To his annoyance his curiosity grew over the following quarter of an hour, and after pouring himself a liberal malt Scotch he paced restlessly around his suite. What did Tahlia want? Had she, after all, decided to offer her body in return for him saving her father from financial ruin? His mouth twisted as he recalled her scathing refusal to sell herself to him earlier in the day. Her reaction had surprised him, he acknowledged. He had first-hand evidence that she had the morals of an alley cat, and the recent story of her affair with another married actor was not the first time her love-life had been reported in the press.
He had been certain that she would agree to sleep with him in return for his agreement to buy Reynolds Gems, but instead she had looked as scandalised as if she were a vestal virgin—which was a laughable notion, he thought sardonically.
‘Hell will freeze over before I agree to your disgusting suggestion,’ she’d flung at him with icy scorn. So why was she here now? Undoubtedly she wanted something. In his experience women always did, he thought cynically. He stared out of the window at the night-time view of London: the myriad lights of buildings and cars glowing like bright jewels against the black velvet sky, the illuminated London Eye sparkling like an enormous static Catherine wheel. His mind flew back six months to another hotel—this time in Athens—and another woman whose visit had been unexpected.
He had been shocked when Yalena had phoned him out of the blue and suggested they meet up. Fifteen years had passed since the woman he had loved had broken off their engagement and married his best friend, and he admitted he had been curious to gauge his reaction when he met Yalena and Takis again. But Yalena had come to his hotel alone, dressed like a tart and clearly confident that Thanos would not turn down her offer to leave her husband for him. She had made a mistake all those years ago, she had told him tearfully. She realised now that she loved him, not Takis—although Thanos noted that she had only arrived at that conclusion since his name had been included on the list of the world’s top one hundred richest men.
Yalena had been dismissive of the fact that her husband adored her, and worked hard to give her a good lifestyle, and Thanos had felt a mixture of disgust and disappointment that he had been so wrong about her. For years he had put her on a pedestal—the discovery that she was an avaricious gold-digger, just like every other woman he had ever met, had filled him with contempt and the bitter realisation that he had been a fool to waste his emotions on her.
The knock on the door dragged him from his memories. Tahlia was here. He finished the whisky, savouring its warmth as it slid down his throat. What would he do if she had come to offer herself to him? He felt a tightening sensation in his groin, and his nostrils flared as sexual heat flooded through him. He wanted her badly, and he could afford her. Why not indulge himself? he brooded. He hadn’t had sex for months. Combining visiting Melina in hospital with running a billion-pound company had meant that he’d had neither the time nor the inclination for his usual meaningless sexual liaisons with lovers who knew better than to expect commitment from him. Celibacy did not suit him, he owned as he strode across the suite. His body felt taut, hungry for satisfaction, and anticipation licked in his veins.
The door of Thanos’s suite swung open and Tahlia wondered if he could hear her heart beating frantically against her ribs.
‘Tahlia,’ he greeted her coolly.
His heavily accented voice caused a delicious little shiver to run down her spine, and at the same time exacerbated the tension that had shredded her nerves during the fifteen minutes she had been forced to wait downstairs in the bar. He stood back for her to enter, and for a few seconds her resolve wobbled, and she was tempted to turn tail and flee. But somehow her legs continued to propel her forward—like a lamb into the wolf’s lair, the voice in her head whispered as she moved into the centre of the room. Another tremor ran through her when she heard the click of the door closing behind her.
‘You are the mistress of surprise,’ Thanos drawled as he strolled towards her.
‘What do you mean?’ she queried sharply, colour storming into her cheeks. The word mistress touched a raw nerve. Thanos believed she had been James Hamilton’s mistress. He assumed that she was sexually experienced. The fact that she was not made what she was about to do even harder.
‘I did not expect to see you at the art gallery, and I did not anticipate you turning up here tonight.’ Nor had he anticipated his reaction to her when he had opened the door—the way his heart had slammed in his chest at the sight of her, looking utterly exquisite in the same blue silk gown she had been wearing the other evening. His desire for her weakened him, and he resented the effect she had on him. ‘What