‘I...I can’t,’ she said. ‘I just can’t pay that.’ Her lush, wide mouth trembled. ‘You’d best call the police.’
Bravado or bravery? Whatever it was, he admired her spirit.
He narrowed his eyes. ‘There’s no need for me to call the police. I have a way you can pay off your debt to me without money exchanging hands. Something not very arduous that you might even enjoy.’
* * *
Ashleigh was up and out of her chair so fast she tripped on her backpack and had to steady herself against the desk. She could hardly believe what she’d heard. Sexual favours to pay off a so-called fabricated debt? Clio had warned her there was a certain type of man who considered maids and waitresses to be fair game. Already she’d had to fend them off—especially towards the end of the night at a party when they’d had too much to drink. But this man! She was shocked—and disappointed. Lukas Christophedes had seemed better than that.
‘No,’ she said. ‘Never.’
He frowned, got up from his chair. The man was tall and powerfully built and she was glad there was a desk between them. ‘You say “no” before you’ve even heard my proposition?’ he asked, his frown deepening.
‘Sex is sex, no matter which variant you want me to trade with you.’ She glared at him then glanced at the open door, ready to bolt. ‘And the answer will always be no.’
He frowned. ‘You’ve got this wrong. I didn’t mean that at all.’ He wiped his hand across his forehead. ‘I would never suggest such a thing. My English...’
His lightly accented English was perfect. It wasn’t what he’d said but how he’d said it. Then she took in the bewilderment in his deep brown eyes and swallowed hard. Or could it be how she’d interpreted his words?
‘Maybe I...misunderstood?’ she asked hesitantly. Misunderstood big time, perhaps.
He came around the desk towards her. She took a step away, the back of her knees pressed against the edge of the chair. Just in case. After all, he was a stranger and she was alone with him in his house.
‘Whether I did not get my message across correctly or you misunderstood is beside the point,’ he said. ‘I am not asking you for sex. That is not how I do business.’
‘I...I’m glad to hear it.’ He must think her hopelessly naïve. ‘So...what is your proposition?’
‘I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend.’
Ashleigh felt as though all the air had been expelled from her lungs. ‘You what! How is that different from—’
He put up one large, well-shaped hand to halt her flow of words. ‘Completely above board, I assure you. Just for one evening. An important business dinner tomorrow. I’ve decided I need a date to...to deflect unwanted interest.’
‘And you want me to be a fake date?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Why? I can’t imagine a man like you would have a shortage of real dates. You’re wealthy, handsome. You’d just have to click your fingers for a multitude of women to come running.’
‘Perhaps not a multitude.’ He gave a wry, self-deprecating smile she found herself warming to. ‘Of course I know a few women in London.’ Ashleigh suspected that was a serious understatement. ‘But none whom I want to involve in this. No one I want to get the wrong impression.’
‘You mean the impression you’re serious about her.’
‘That is correct,’ he said. ‘This would be purely a business deal, with no continuing personal involvement. You are unknown in London and that suits me perfectly.’
Would being this man’s fake date be any worse than being hired as a waitress for an upscale private party? The idea intrigued her. He intrigued her. Wasn’t this why she’d come to London? To climb out of the deep rut she’d found herself in. To revel in freedom and independence. To be brave and take risks and open up to new experiences.
‘So tell me more about this “proposition”?’ she said.
Ashleigh stood by the chair close to her backpack, on the off chance she needed to pick it up and run. He paced up and down as he spoke.
‘I met this afternoon at The Shard with a potential business partner, someone I very much want to work with.’
Ashleigh loved the beautiful old buildings in London where history was alive on every corner. But she was fascinated by The Shard—London’s futuristic glass skyscraper. The first day she’d arrived, she’d stood at its base and craned her neck to gaze up at the incredible ninety-five-storey building, so tall its jagged top disappeared into the clouds. One rare free evening when they weren’t working, she and Sophie had gone up to the bar for a drink—just one as they were so expensive—and gawked at the incredible views of London old and new.
Of course The Shard would be just the place for a visiting billionaire to hold his meetings.
‘Excuse my ignorance,’ Ashleigh said. ‘But what exactly is your business?’
There was no point in pretending she knew anything about him—or in pretending she was anything other than who she was. Of course, if she agreed to be his fake date, that would take pretending to a whole new level. He was so handsome it wouldn’t be a hardship.
‘There are various arms to the Christophedes business but the one that concerns me now is electrical appliances. We dominate the Greek market, are one of the bestselling brands in mainland Europe, and export to Scandinavia and the Middle East. But the British market eludes me. I need a local partner.’
‘You mean a distributor?’
‘Yes. I did my due diligence and decided this woman’s company would be the best fit for what I need. I approached her and today was our initial meeting.’
‘Is she interested in doing business with you?’
‘Yes.’ He stopped his pacing, looked directly down at her. ‘She is also interested in me.’
‘That’s good, isn’t it?’ she said, perplexed at the doom-laden way he said it. ‘You would have to get on with her if you’re working on such a big deal.’
He cleared his throat and shifted from foot to foot. Ashleigh was surprised at his display of discomfort. ‘I mean she is interested in me as not just a business partner but as a man.’
For the first time Ashleigh saw a crack in the billionaire’s confident air of arrogance. She tried not to smile. Somehow she doubted that was the reaction he would expect. ‘I see,’ she said, trying to sound very serious.
‘Do you? Tina Norris is a very beautiful older woman used to getting her own way.’
‘So...she’s a cougar and she wants you as part of the deal?’ Who could blame the woman? The man was good-looking in the extreme. And, she suspected, when he wasn’t glaring or shouting at misbehaving maids, he could be charming.
‘That is the impression she gave me this afternoon.’ He shuddered. Again Ashleigh had to suppress a smile. He was no doubt used to being the hunter, not the hunted.
‘But you’re not interested?’
‘Not in the slightest. I found her...predatory. Besides, I would never get involved with a business partner.’
‘I see your dilemma—you don’t want to offend her.’
‘That is correct. I want her on side for the business.’
‘But not in your bed.’
He paused. ‘That’s a blunt way of putting it, but yes.’
‘Hence the fake date. It would be