For what had to be the first time ever he found himself at a loss for words.
Judging by the expression in her wide eyes, pain emanating from them as she gazed back at him, she was struggling to form words on her own tongue too.
It was Greta who broke the silence, with a shout of, ‘Champagne!’ She grinned at Helios, slipped her arm through Amy’s and whisked her off to find them a glass each.
‘Thanks,’ Amy muttered the second they were out of his earshot. Her heart was hammering so hard she could swear she was suffering from palpitations.
‘You’re welcome. Here,’ said Greta, thrusting a glass into Amy’s hand. ‘Drink this.’
‘I’ve had enough already.’ They’d had a couple of shots of ouzo each in Greta’s flat, before the car had arrived for them, and while not drunk she definitely felt a little light-headed.
Greta shook her head. ‘You’re going to need a lot more than this to get through the night without throwing yourself at him.’
‘I’m not going to throw myself at him.’
‘You could have fooled me from the way you were just staring at each other.’
‘We’re over,’ Amy stated flatly.
‘So you keep telling yourself.’
‘I mean it.’
‘I know you do. The problem is I don’t think your heart believes it.’ Greta squeezed her hand. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll stop you from entering the big bad wolf’s clutches again.’
Fighting to stop her gaze flickering back to him, Amy nodded and swallowed half of her champagne.
‘Let’s see what’s in these envelopes,’ Greta said, ripping hers open.
Amy followed suit and found inside a personalised card, thanking her for all her hard work since joining the museum, and two hundred euros to spend in the casino.
‘Last year we spent a day on Helios’s yacht,’ Greta confided, fingering her own pile of notes lovingly. ‘It was amazing—when we got back to shore Talia was so drunk Pedro had to carry her off.’
Her words did the trick, making Amy laugh at the image of Helios’s prim private secretary, brought along to keep events ticking along smoothly, losing control of herself in such a manner.
Some of her angst loosened and she made a pledge to enjoy herself. At some point just about everyone who’d had a work-based affair had to deal with an ex being present. She didn’t have to make a big deal of it. If she stuck to Greta’s side and avoided even looking at Helios she would be fine.
But stopping herself from staring became harder when they were taken through to the restaurant, which had been put aside for their private use. The seating plan meant she had an excellent view of the top table, where Helios was seated. So good was her view that the moment she took her seat his eyes found her.
She cast her eyes down to her menu, ostensibly familiarising herself with her selections. When she dared to look back up he was engaged in conversation with Jessica, an American curator who had worked at the museum for two decades.
‘You’re staring,’ Greta hissed.
Smiling tightly, Amy forced small talk from her lips, taking a small breath of relief when the starters were brought out.
Her plate was placed before her, and the waiter removed the silver lid with a flourish to release the beautiful aromas of roast sea scallops and smoked celeriac purée sitting in a shellfish broth. It tasted as wonderful as it smelled, and she wished she could appreciate it more, but as hard as she tried her awareness of Helios two tables away was all-consuming.
She was powerless to stop her eyes flickering to him, taking in the strong brown throat exposed by his unbuttoned white silk shirt—all the other men wore ties—and the way his dark blue dinner jacket emphasised the breadth of his chest. If she could only ever stare at one thing for the rest of her life it would be him.
He was laughing at something Jessica had said, his generous smile wide, his liquid eyes lively. A burst of jealousy ripped through her to see him enjoying Jessica’s company so much, a totally irrational feeling, considering that Jessica was old enough to be his mother, but real nonetheless.
It was some consolation that he hadn’t brought the Princess with him. If she’d had to watch him talking and laughing with her, Amy was certain she would have been sick.
And then his gaze found hers again and her stomach somersaulted. He raised his glass of wine slowly and took a long swallow.
An elbow in her ribs brought her back to earth.
‘Stop it!’ Greta whispered fiercely.
But she couldn’t.
Even when her main course of fillet of beef and truffle mash was brought out to her she couldn’t stop her eyes from constantly darting to him.
There was nothing wrong in looking, she told herself helplessly. So long as she kept away from him she could look. She just couldn’t touch.
After what felt like hours the meal was over. Before she could flee into the casino, away from the magnetism of Helios’s stare, he was on his feet and making a speech, which ended with him raising his glass and offering a toast to them all.
‘If you’d all make your way to the private beach at midnight you’ll find a last surprise for you,’ he finished with a grin. ‘Until then, enjoy the casino and the music and most of all have fun—you’ve earned it.’
Keeping herself glued to Greta’s side, Amy headed into the casino, which was every bit as opulent as she’d expected and very busy. However, Helios had arranged for them to have their own private poker, blackjack and roulette tables. She had no interest in playing but it was fun to observe, especially to watch Jessica, who seemed to be cleaning up on the blackjack table, to everyone’s amazement. There was soon a crowd forming around her.
The only blot on the landscape was a prickle on her neck: the weight of Helios’s stare upon her. It took everything she had not to return it. Without the dining tables separating them she felt vulnerable. It was only a matter of time before he sought her out.
Except it never happened. From out of the corner of her eye she watched him make his way around the casino and the adjoining dance room, speaking to all his staff in turn, his easy smile evident.
So many free drinks were being pressed into their hands that Amy felt herself becoming more light-headed by the minute. Soon it was enough to make herself switch to coffee.
She couldn’t stop her heart from jolting every time Helios moved away from one person and on to another. Irrationally, she longed for him to bestow his attentions on her. But other than with his eyes he made no such attempt. She must be the only member of staff he hadn’t made an effort to speak to. Apart from Greta, who hadn’t let Amy out of her sight all evening.
Maybe he’d finally accepted that they were over, despite his proclamation that she would always be his. Maybe their short time apart had convinced him she had been right to end things between them.
A dagger speared her stomach at the thought of never feeling his strong arms around her again, or the heat of his kiss.
She needed to get out of there, to go back to her apartment and lick her wounds in peace before she gave in to the howl building in her throat. She’d done her best tonight, but not even the alcohol had numbed the ache pounding beneath her ribs. If anything, it had got worse.
But what peace could she find in her apartment when Helios was only the other side of a secret passageway? How could she survive another five months of living so close to him? With her resignation rejected and his threat of legal action if she left hanging over her head, her choices were limited. Her career would be ruined. Who would trust her if she were to breach her contract and be sued by the heir to the throne of Agon?
Because she believed that if she were to leave now he would carry out his threat.
He wasn’t a cruel man, but when provoked Helios was hot-tempered, passionate and filled to the brim with pride. Her attempted resignation had punctured his ego.
But then, if he had finally accepted they were finished maybe he’d be more understanding and amenable to her leaving if she broached the subject again, once the Gala was over.
She wished so hard that she could hate him, but she couldn’t. How could anyone hate him?
‘It’s nearly midnight,’ Greta said animatedly. ‘Let’s go to the beach.’
Amy nodded. The low buzzing noise of all the surrounding chatter was making her head ache. Some fresh sea air would do her good. She’d go out and watch the last of the entertainment and then she would slip away and lick her wounds in earnest.
* * *
The hotel’s curved private beach brought gasps of delight from everyone. Helios was pleased by their reaction. Indeed, the whole evening had been a marked success. He was sure there would be plenty of foggy heads in the morning, but he doubted anyone would regret them.
Rows of wooden tables with benches had been set along the sand, and gas lamps had been placed on them for illumination under the moonless sky. The hotel’s beach bar was open and cocktails were being made.
To get to the beach you had to cut through the hotel’s garden and follow a gentle, meandering trail, then take half a dozen steep steps down to it. It wasn’t until the tables were half-full that he spotted Amy, making her way down with Greta, whom she’d clung to like a shield for the entire evening.
He knew why.
Amy didn’t want to be alone because she was scared he would pounce the second he had the chance. And if she was scared of him pouncing there could only be one reason—she knew she would struggle to resist.