“No.” She handed back the crumpled handkerchief. “He’s a complete and utter bastard.”
A dark eyebrow rose. “Is that so?”
“Sorry—I’m not usually so insulting about people, but this man is different.” Kizzy felt annoyance as the stranger shrugged and rocked back on his heels, clearly unconvinced. “If you must know, this man intends to take my job, my home and my entire future from me. And he hasn’t even got the guts to do it to my face.”
The Suit looked over his shoulder and then at his watch. “He must have his reasons.”
“I doubt if Andreas Lazarides gives a damn about anyone or anything.” She glared angrily up at the gigantic tubular wheel spokes splayed across the sky. “But I’m not giving in without a fight.”
Kizzy glanced across at him as the man squinted into the distance. He must be a big shot in the city, she thought. Smart and gorgeous, but undoubtedly a workaholic judging by the way he seemed to be constantly thinking, analyzing, speculating.
His dark eyes unexpectedly found hers again. “Andreas Lazarides. A Greek bastard, then?”
Kizzy nodded and shot him a crooked smile; his accent was quite compelling.
His own mouth remained stern. “So what’s your name? Miss…?”
She paused for a moment and tried not to be drawn further into the deep mocha swirl of his eyes. His tone had suddenly become a little harsh and her stomach clenched for a second. She needed to be careful. After all, he was a complete stranger.
He could be anyone.
“Isabella,” she murmured, before she could stop herself.
She held out a hand and suppressed a tremor of awareness as his large, warm hand captured hers and held it for a second longer than was absolutely necessary. The sensation rocketed straight to the middle of her chest and seemed to double her heart rate.
“Isabella Hoppenwilde,” she continued, lying instinctively.
The air hung still for a moment and Kizzy was aware of nothing but the way this city Adonis was staring at her, sucking her into the dangerous depths of his eyes, almost undressing her with his unwavering scrutiny.
Perhaps he was waiting for her to ask his name in return?
It would be the polite thing to do. Not that she was feeling particularly polite today, of all days.
“So how are you planning to find him? There are hundreds of people around.” He released her hand. “Unless, of course, he stands out from the crowd in some way.”
“I’m just going to watch while everyone comes off,” Kizzy said feebly, realizing that she had no idea what her quarry looked like. They had never even spoken on the phone, let alone met.
“Well, let me help you spot him,” he offered, much to her surprise. “What does he look like, this Andreas Lazarides?”
“He’s balding and generally surrounded by security staff,” she heard herself bluff shamelessly, not daring to hesitate in case he guessed she was lying. “And he’ll head straight for one of those ostentatious blacked-out vehicles that will be circling the area, a Mercedes or something. Oh yes, and he always struts about in a very pompous, self-important way—his method of compensating for being so short.”
She smiled with satisfaction at the image she had just created. He sounded quite revolting, her Andreas Lazarides.
“Sounds like he may be doing a couple of circuits of the wheel—especially if it’s a boozy corporate do,” the Suit replied and looked coldly skyward as heavy raindrops began to fall faster and closer together. “In which case, you could be standing out in this for an hour. I’ve got a better idea. My party seems to have let me down, and as you will discover,” he gestured toward the embarkation pier where a guide stood next to a silver-wheeled metal case, “the Eye waits for no one.”
She was hit by a rush of adrenaline as he grabbed her hand and pulled her along behind him. Her high heels clattered on the grooved metal plating underfoot as they shot along a roped-off “fast track” route to the front of the queue, netting curious stares and a number of speculative camera flashes as they went.
“No, I can’t!” Kizzy was quickly trying to work out a dignified exit route, a means of escape from a situation that was beginning to feel increasingly dangerous. “My boss—”
“I intend to help you find him.” He broke off briefly to speak into the waiting guide’s ear. “Join me for thirty minutes on the Eye and we’ll spot him while we’re up there. There can’t be too many stack-heeled bastards with receding hairlines per capsule and his henchmen are going to make it obvious where he is.”
“Really…I don’t want to put you out.”
Kizzy was frantically trying to decline his invitation without making a fool of herself. She was going to look completely nuts if she confessed she’d never even met her boss in the flesh.
“It’s moving so slowly, I could lose him if he gets off before us, so—”
She rubbed her brow without even realizing she was doing it, inadvertently revealing her unease.
“That won’t happen.” He tugged her sharply toward an empty capsule. “Now jump!”
The guide swiftly loaded the silver-wheeled box into the capsule and all Kizzy could do was watch the door slide closed as if in a horrible dream.
There was an eerie quietness as the rattle of London life was muffled into submission. Then the crowd outside gradually shrank from view as the Eye continued its relentless journey. Her attention was jolted back from the sight of the world disappearing beneath her feet by the sound of a popping champagne cork. It hit the ceiling and then rolled toward the soles of her uncomfortably shod feet.
“Let’s celebrate,” the dark stranger announced smoothly, handing her a champagne flute, “our chance meeting. Like two planets colliding. The chances of it happening? Slim. The results? Earth-shattering.”
Kizzy felt color warm her cheeks and couldn’t be sure if it was panic because she was alone with—practically kidnapped by, in fact—this incredibly sexy man, or shame at allowing her body to respond to his domineering smile in a way that was most unladylike.
“Thank you,” she murmured. Her fingers curled tightly around the slender champagne flute. “You’re incredibly generous, especially considering I’m a complete stranger.”
“A most beautiful stranger,” he corrected and smiled with obvious satisfaction at the deepening flush of color that accompanied the lowering of her eyelashes. “But, you know, it’s odd. Somehow it feels as if we have known each other for rather longer than five minutes.”