“You will soon learn, Kizzy,” he announced calmly, “that when it comes to your own staff, eyes in the back of your head are simply not enough. It is necessary to observe, smell, touch, taste, and above all feel what is happening around you, to sense where everyone is or should be at any given point in time.”
His eyes slipped involuntarily to her red lips and then snapped back to her eyes almost as quickly. He was in total control of the situation.
“Stephanos knows what is expected of him at any moment of his working day. Today’s trip down to Lindos is no exception. He always comes to take a refreshment order ten minutes into the voyage.” Andreas felt a twinge of self-reproach as he noted the injured expression on Kizzy’s face. He smothered his reaction by focusing on his lecture. “You also need to be aware that disappointment in the past has taught me to trust only a handful of individuals in my employ, and they’re all men. It’s quite a rare thing to find a woman telling you the truth when you’re an unmarried billionaire in a world of material greed and insatiable want. I’m not sure it’s ever happened.”
“And you kiss all your staff?” Kizzy inquired.
She was suddenly as sharp as needles, he observed with surprise, and rose to the verbal challenge as any good lawyer would.
“Only the female ones,” he replied with the lazy, intoxicating smile he saved for especially delicate negotiations. “And then only very selectively. Until now only platonically. What have you done to me, Miss Dean?” he demanded. “I appear to have been abandoning my principles all over the place since we met.”
“You have?” Kizzy replied. “Can’t say I’ve noticed—apart from a few moments ago.”
She fiddled needlessly with the embroidered trim of her top.
Andreas feigned amusement and then got her attention with a viselike stare. “It was the ‘no mixing business with pleasure’ one.”
“So that’s one of your very fine principles.” She bristled, feeling more out of her depth with every syllable uttered. “What about the rest?”
His smile faded.
“I won’t bore you with those,” he replied, flashing her a look that said “don’t push your luck,” and levered himself away from the balcony. “And now I must speak with the captain. Before I leave, would you like some refreshments? You ate precious little on our flight.”
“I wasn’t hungry,” she said quickly. “And I’m still not.”
“Very well.” Andreas shrugged. “The food at your hotel is excellent. You can eat on the terrace or in your suite. It has a private balcony.”
“Suite?”
“Is that a problem?” Andreas drawled, and glanced at his watch.
“It’s extravagant and not something I can afford, thank you. Perhaps some simple village room or a modest bed and breakfast could be arranged?”
“Kizzy,” he said, with undisguised exasperation, “there is only one, yes, one hotel in Lindos village. It’s the best, the most exquisite. I had to call in quite a few favors to get rooms there.”
“How much is it a night?”
He looked at her. “That’s not important.”
“It is to me.”
“About five hundred euros.”
Her mouth fell open with horror. “What?”
“There’s nothing else, it’s high season, and I need you to be in the village, not stuck miles out of town with all the package vacationers. I can afford it, you know.”
“I’d rather sleep on the beach.”
“Of course you would.” He looked ostentatiously at his watch again. He’d noticed that it seemed to irritate her.
“Yes, I would.”
“Not with a body like that, Miss Dean,” he said laughing briefly, and made sure she saw him appraising her figure. “I’d never see you again!”
She was scowling. “I’ll take my chances.”
“Not as my employee.” He reached out and took her chin firmly between his fingers, forcing her to look him in the eye. “We have a deal, remember?”
“Nothing’s been signed,” she said reminding him sharply, taking a step backward as though to evade his touch.
“So what are you going to do?” His hand fell away from her face, and he thrust it roughly into his trouser pocket. “Jump ship and swim back to a cardboard box in Portsmouth? Sell your body to buy food?”
“Are you suggesting that I couldn’t?”
“You could, of course,” he mused, “but judging by your behavior so far you’d price your services far too low.”
He leaned back lazily and crossed his arms across his chest, allowing himself the hint of a smirk at her floundering argument.
“You’re disgusting,” Kizzy muttered.
“Disgusting…and a bastard?” Andreas mockingly flicked the tips of his fingers across the dark shadow emerging on his square chin. “Unfortunately, your behavior tells me I don’t repulse you quite as much as you suggest. You positively melted into that kiss.”
“You took me by surprise. I hadn’t expected—“
“You don’t fool me for a moment, Kizzy. All this frost and propriety is just a front. I felt what was happening when you were in my arms just now. It was unbelievable, you can’t deny it.”
“I have no intention of discussing this further, Mr. Lazarides. You’re my boss and there are certain standards that need to be maintained. So I’m quite prepared to consider that our—that it—never happened.”
“And I’m quite prepared to be discreet.” He stepped closer and made as if to stroke her cheek. “Your job is quite safe, I guarantee it, whatever may happen between us.”
“Nothing will happen between us,” Kizzy replied, twisting her face away to avoid his touch. “Nothing but business, let me assure you of that.”
He might be as sexy as hell and as rich as Croesus, but she’d seen his dark side in Rhodes and there was no doubt in her mind that he was cold enough to use a woman for sex and then discard her. She would never risk becoming a man’s sexual plaything; having witnessed her own mother’s degradation and misery would make sure of that.
“We’ll see,” he said, and his hand fell to his side. “I have a determined nature.”
“You also have a very high opinion of yourself.”
He laughed bitterly. “But I’ve earned the right, you see? There are not too many self-made billionaires in the world. Certainly not those who collected donkey droppings and worked for a pittance in a supermarket before school just to survive.” He shot her a cold, twisted smile. “My father didn’t believe in breakfast. Or education. I’d have been better nurtured by a feral cat, frankly.”