AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The hotel had been more than Hannah had expected, despite its billing as one of the world’s finest. It was true six-star luxury, from the white marble floor to the gold columns that extended to the triple-height ceilings, the glossy grand piano in one corner being expertly played by a renowned pianist, the enormous crystal chandeliers that hung overhead.
As they approached the lifts, a suited bellhop dipped his head in deferential welcome. ‘Good evening, sir,’ he murmured. ‘Madam.’
His gloved hand pressed the button to call the lift and Hannah stood beside Leonidas, waiting in complete silence. The lift arrived seconds later and Leonidas stood back, allowing Hannah to enter before him.
She stepped into the plush interior, her breath held, her senses rioting with the madness of what she was about to do.
But the moment she felt regret or doubt, she closed her eyes and conjured the image of Angus’s pale face brightened by his sensual exertions with Michelle and determination kicked inside her.
Not that she needed it—desire alone was propelling her through this, but anger was a good backup.
‘You are no longer engaged?’
The lift pulled upwards, but that wasn’t why her stomach swooped.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I’ve left him—everyone—far behind.’
‘You are angry?’
‘No.’ She was. And she wasn’t. She was...hurt. Reeling. Confused. And if she was angry, it was mostly with herself, for having been so stupid as to believe him, to care for him, to get so hooked on the idea of the picture-perfect future that she’d stopped paying attention to the present, to whether or not Angus even made her happy.
The lift doors eased open silently, directly into a large living room. It took only a moment to realise they were on the top floor of the hotel and that this magnificent space must surely be the penthouse.
‘Wow.’ For a second, everything but admiration left her—this place was amazing. Every bit as decadent as the foyer but even more so because it was designed with a single occupant in mind. Everything was pale—cream, Scandinavian wood furniture, glass, mirrors, except for the artwork that was bold—a Picasso hung on one wall. There were plants, too, large fiddle-leaf figs that added a bold hint of architectural interest.
Sliding glass doors led to a balcony that showed a stunning view of Athens in the distance—glowing golden warm, an ancient city, so full of stories and interest.
‘This is beautiful.’
He dipped his head in silent concession, moving towards the kitchen and pulling a bottle of champagne from the fridge. She recognised the label for its distinctive golden colour.
She watched as he unfurled the foil and popped the cork effortlessly, grabbing two flutes and half filling them.
‘What brings you to Chrysá Vráchia, Hannah?’
There it was again, her name in his mouth, being kissed by his accent. Her knees felt shaky; she wasn’t sure she trusted them to carry her across the room.
‘A change,’ she said cryptically. ‘And you?’
His lips twisted and she felt something sharpen within him, something that sparked a thousand little questions inside her. ‘It’s routine. I come here every year.’
‘What for?’
He didn’t answer. Instead, he strode across the room, champagne flute in hand, passing Hannah’s to her as though he were fighting himself, as though he were fighting this.
And she couldn’t understand that.
If it weren’t for the gale-force strength of her own needs, she might have paused to ask him why he was looking at her with such intensity, why he stared at her in a way that seemed to strip her soul bare.
But the incessant thrumming of her own desire was all Hannah was conscious of.
‘Habit,’ he said simply, swallowing so his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.
She bit down on her lip, and his eyes dropped to her mouth, so her desire became louder, more urgent, desperation rolling through her. This was crazy. Madness. Necessary.
Outside, a spark of colour exploded through the sky—bright red, vibrant, its beauty an imperative they both resisted.
‘Happy new year,’ she said quietly, unable to take her eyes off his face.
