The too-proud answer had Damen clearing his throat.
“I mean, thank you for your trust in me. I’ll make sure you won’t be disappointed, sir.”
William glanced at the ex-billionaire. “Willow has filled me in about your plan in the event that we do offer to publish your work. We can probably have a hundred ARCs ready in time for your party. It will be the day after tomorrow, correct?” It was William’s way of expressing his gratitude for Damen Leventis’ patience, something that not many people was able to offer his wayward daughter.
“That would be much appreciated. The book is to be my wife’s surprise, so I hope that nothing about it leaks out.” Damen walked forward to shake hands with Willow’s father.
William murmured, “You must love your wife very much to go to such lengths just to let her know of your feelings.”
Damen’s lips twisted in a smile. “If you have the chance to read the book, you’ll know that what I’m doing – or whatever I can think of doing – is not enough. I’ve hurt her too many times that having the chance to show my wife I love her is a privilege in itself.”
When William Somerset left with the other executives, Willow said accusingly, “You knew he was there, didn’t you?”
He said evenly, “Next time, I know you won’t have to be tricked into doing the same thing.”
Her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know about that. My nerves always get the better of me.”
“Come to the party. I have someone who’d be the perfect trainer for you.”
The offer was generous and kind, which of course made Willow feel uncomfortable, pushing her to mutter ungraciously, “I don’t need a trainer.”
“Yes. You do. And that answer is exactly why you need one.” Together, the two of them walked out of the conference room, Willow accompanying him until they reached the elevators.
It was only when the elevator doors slid open and Damen stepped in did Willow mumble, “Thanks for helping me in there.”
Damen smiled slightly. “Thank you for taking a chance on my admittedly ambitious and unorthodox project.”
Willow said seriously, “Good luck with winning your wife back, Damen.”
The doors closed at the same time his phone buzzed. The name on the screen made Damen frown, but in the end, he decided to reply. If he wanted a future that was completely free of any kind of obstacle that could hinder him and Mairi from getting back together permanently, then it was time to clear up all loose ends.
Starting…with Alina.
Chapter Eleven
She said: To wed a Greek billionaire, one becomes an expert at lie detection.
He said: Is that so?
She said: Go on. Test me.
He said: We’re in a private place.
She said: Lie. And umm, duh!
He said: We’re alone.
She said: Lie. Willow, tell me, is he for real?
He said: I’m not finished.
She said: Ooookay.
He said: You want to f**k me right now. I only have to touch your hair and you want me. I only have to look at you and you want me. I only have to say your name and you want me. Are those lies, matakia mou?
She said: Unfair! That’s a trick question!
Important meeting? Ha! Yeah, right. These were the thoughts that ran through Mairi’s head as she tried not to bang pots in Damen’s ultra-modern kitchen. She had taken pains to prepare breakfast, hoping they could eat it in bed, but instead he had told her in a distracted voice that he had to leave right away.
And then she had watched Damen – the man who she had never even seen glance at his reflection on the mirror unless he was ha**ng s*x with her in front of it – stand a good five minutes in front of his extensive wardrobe, a taut look on his face as he pulled out a new pinstriped suit. “Do you think this looks good on me?”
That was when she really knew. Oh my God, he really was having an affair with Alina Kokinos! She had read about this in those women’s magazines that Mandy secretly devoured in hopes of being more “sensitive” and “feminine”.
When Damen had raised a brow at her, Mairi had snapped, “No. I think you look bad in anything you wear.” And then she had shoved past her husband, muttering about eating breakfast with Drake.
For once, Damen’s jealousy had not made him go after Mairi.
“What’s with all the racket?” Drake asked as he entered the kitchen, wincing at all the banging and clanging that Mairi was making with her frying pans. He grabbed one of the stools by the counter, one eyebrow lifting when he saw the lineup of dishes Mairi had prepared. Pancakes, toasts, Eggs Benedict, bacon, and even a fruit platter – all of them untouched. “Are we celebrating or something?”
“Nope.” Mairi tried to keep her tone cheerful as she turned around to face Drake. Hair still wet from a shower and dressed in a white wife beater that exposed his broad shoulders and biceps, the ex-sniper appeared like he had just stepped out of a sexy edition of Bed Bath & Beyond.
Taking the stool next to him, Mairi stared at Drake for a long time, willing for her breath to catch, her heart to race, her body to tense. Mairi willed herself to feel something – anything – for Drake Morrison. Just one sign, Mairi thought desperately, to prove that she had not completely lost herself in Damen. Again.
But there was none.
The despair on Mairi’s brown eyes had Drake frowning. His first instinct was to be gentle, a feeling prompted by guilt, but Drake knew that wasn’t really what Mairi needed right now. He also knew that even if it was, it had never been his role to give Mairi a shoulder to cry on.
That was Damen Leventis’ role…even if he was likely the reason Mairi’s gaze was dark with misery.
Drake slapped a couple of pancakes on his plate, giving Mairi time to speak. From the corner of his eyes, he watched her reach for a piece of toast and munch on it. He said brusquely, “Pretending to be strong doesn’t actually make you strong, Mairi.”
Mairi flinched, her half-eaten toast falling from her fingers to her plate.
When she still didn’t speak, Drake swung his seat sideways so he could take a good look at her. “I taught you better than that, don’t you think?”
Yes, he did, Mairi acknowledged painfully, but sometimes it was just easier to fall back on old habits and keep pretending. Lowering her gaze to the table, she concentrated on picking the crumbs that had fallen off her plate. In a light voice, she said, “Damen left early for a meeting today.”
“And you’re upset because he wasn’t able to eat breakfast in bed with you?”