She could see Damon Latousakis standing at the back with a glass of barely touched champagne in his hand. He turned and locked gazes with her, the seductive promise she could see glittering there making her heart stumble in her chest.
‘Members and honoured guests, ladies and gentlemen.’ The museum manager took his place at the microphone, his booming voice thankfully kick-starting Charlotte’s heart once more. ‘It is our very great honour to have with us Mr Damon Latousakis, the head of the Eleni Foundation, who has travelled all the way from the beautiful Greek island of Santorini to be with us this evening.’ He sent an ingratiating smile in Damon’s direction before returning to the microphone.
‘I would now like to call upon our acting museum curator, Ms Charlotte Woodruff, who is going to speak to you about how the exhibition cannot go ahead without the continued support of you—our members and our wonderful sponsors, including the very generous Mr Latousakis. Charlotte?’
Charlotte staggered towards the microphone, her mind going completely blank. What was she going to say? With the distraction of Stacey’s impromptu visit and Damon’s sudden appearance in the corridor she hadn’t had time to prepare a speech.
Think! Think!
The microphone needed lowering to her height of five foot five, which gave her a few precious seconds to get her brain into gear.
‘Members and honoured guests, ladies and gentlemen…’ she began and somehow continued her speech without once looking in Damon Latousakis’s direction, but she could feel his black diamond gaze on her all the same.
Finally it was over.
She stepped down from the podium on legs that felt like not quite set jelly and took the glass of champagne Diane was holding out for her.
Diane spirited her away to a quiet corner. ‘What did I tell you? You did a fabulous job. God, Damon Latousakis was looking at you the whole time like he was seeing right through that dress. You might think he’s arrogant, but it sure looks as if you’ve taken his fancy.’
Charlotte took a deep slug of her drink, more to put moisture in her dry mouth than for Dutch courage. ‘I’m sure you’re mistaken. He doesn’t like me one little bit,’ she said, letting her worried gaze drift to where Damon was leaning down to hear what one of the board members was saying.
‘What do you mean?’ Diane frowned as she followed the line of Charlotte’s vision.
‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this,’ Charlotte said, gripping her glass even more tightly.
Diane gave her a probing look. ‘Have you met him before?’
Charlotte didn’t answer but her expression must have given her away for Diane suddenly crowed, ‘I’ve got it! You met him in Greece when you went to do some research for your studies, right?’
Charlotte put her half-drunk champagne down on a side table and turned around so she couldn’t see the man who had torn her heart from her chest.
‘We have a past, yes. But I’d rather not talk about it. Sorry, Diane. It’s just too painful.’
‘Don’t worry, my lips are sealed,’ Diane said. ‘Uh-oh, he’s coming back over. I’d better scoot.’
‘No, don’t leave me!’ Charlotte made a quick grab for her colleague’s arm but it was too late. Diane had already been nabbed by one of the members, who was leading her away to show her something of interest on the far side of the room.
‘It is time for you to fulfil your promise, Charlotte,’ Damon Latousakis said, towering over her, his expression set in intractable lines. ‘Let us go and have that drink, hmm?’
‘Um…I…I’m not sure that would be appropriate right at this moment…I have some more people to see and—’
He stepped closer so she had to crane her neck to keep eye contact, which she could only assume was a deliberate attempt to intimidate her. He had always used his exceptional height to his advantage and now was clearly no different. He towered head and shoulders over everyone else in the room, but with him standing so close she felt even shorter than she really was. And not just shorter, but stripped of any scrap of power she had fooled herself into believing she had.
‘You are not reneging on our arrangement, are you?’ he asked.
‘I—I’m not sure it’s such a good idea to revisit the past…’ She moistened her mouth and added shakily, ‘I’ve had a long day and I think it might be best if I go straight home…’
His eyes burned down into hers with a warning she knew was going to be impossible to ignore. ‘Perhaps it would be a timely reminder at this point to inform you that if you do not follow through on your promise to have a drink with me, you could find yourself without an exhibition and, dare I say, without a job?’
It was true, Charlotte thought with a sickening wave of panic. If she did anything to compromise the exhibition’s success her one-off chance at being head museum curator was going to remain exactly that—one-off. She would never be considered for promotion again and, as he’d intimated—perhaps even fired.
‘The evening is drawing to a close,’ Damon said. ‘I have a limousine waiting outside. You and I will leave in it together and go back to my hotel, where we will have our private discussion and that little drink, understood?’
She swallowed the rough-edged lump in her throat. ‘If you insist,’ she said with undiluted resentment, her eyes flashing her ire.
‘Good,’ he said, taking her by the elbow. ‘Let us go right away. Smile for the cameras, agape mou. It would not look good if you were seen in tomorrow’s papers scowling at me as if I were the devil himself.’
Charlotte didn’t trust herself to answer, but she could feel the touch of his fingers burn through the winter sleeves of her velvet evening gown, the subtle suggestion of force underpinning his hold striking a deep note of unease in her.
The stretch limousine was, as he’d said, waiting outside the museum’s entrance and she made her way down the sandstone steps on legs that were struggling to keep her upright.
Once they were inside the car, Damon closed the panel separating the driver from the rear and joined her on the seat and his weight as he sat back on the plush leather caused her to tip sideways towards him. She put out a hand to stabilise herself but it landed on his strong, muscular thigh. She whipped her hand away but he caught it in mid-air and put it back down on his thigh, but much higher this time.
Charlotte’s eyes flared with panic as she felt his body stir beneath her hand. She could feel her cheeks turning a hundred shades of red as she tried to ease herself away but he was having none of it.
‘What is wrong, Charlotte?’ he asked. ‘Do you not remember how you used to slip your hot little hand inside my trousers in the past? Is that what you were hoping to do tonight, touching me like that to remind me of what we had shared in case I had forgotten?’
She felt a burst of liquid fire explode between her thighs as a host of memories assailed her. Oh, God! He had taught her such intimacies. She had learned under a master, her body singing with the tune of his touch each and every time.
‘And what about your equally scorching little tongue?’ he continued, his eyes still lasering hers. ‘Can you still taste me in your mouth, agape mou?’
She stared at him, unable to speak, unable to move, barely able to breathe.
He slowly brought his mouth to the side of her neck, his lips moving against her sensitive skin as he spoke. ‘I can still taste you. Your saltiness and your sweetness are branded on my tongue.’
Charlotte’s belly prickled with a thousand tiny needles of desire, her skin heating from the inside out. She tried to ease away but he continued his caress of her neck until he came to the upper curve of her right