When Christakos Meets His Match(20)

                Sidonie shook her head quickly and at the same time shot him an insulted look. ‘No... I would never do...what we just did...if I had...’

                She stopped for a moment, then focused on him again and looked tortured, but it was little comfort to Alexio.

                ‘I just...can’t do this. With you.’ Her chin lifted. ‘I’m not easy, Alexio. I won’t just fall into bed with you because you click your fingers and expect me to.’

                Alexio wanted to smash aside the trolley, rip off those glasses and grab her, kiss her into submission. Kiss her again. Instead he bit out, lying admirably, ‘I asked you for dinner, Sidonie, not for sex.’

                She blanched and avoided his gaze again, slinging her bag across her body. It did little to douse his desire—the strap coming between her breasts made them stand out, defining their pert shape. Theos, what was wrong with him? Had he lost all reason in the past hour?

                Sidonie took the trolley and said, ‘Look...thanks, okay? If I lived in London maybe I’d go out with you, but I don’t, and I have to go home.’

                She was pulling away, taking the trolley with her case on it, and something like panic gripped Alexio’s chest, constricting his breathing. He thrust a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a card, handed it to her.

                She took it reluctantly and he wanted to push it into her hand, wrap her fingers around it. ‘Those are my private numbers. If anything changes...call me.’

                After a few torturous seconds she just nodded and said, ‘It was nice to meet you...’

                And then she pulled the trolley round, disappeared into the departures hall and was swallowed up by a thousand faceless, nameless people.

                Alexio did not like this feeling of being out of control. At all. It was something he’d fought against his whole life—every time his father had tried to mould him into the son and heir he’d wanted. Every time his father had suffocated him with the weight of his expectations. And most all every time he’d seen his father lose it because he couldn’t control his emotions around his cold wife.

                And yet this wisp of a woman had managed to slide control out from under his feet without him even noticing.

                He cursed volubly.

                * * *

                Twenty minutes later Sidonie was about to scream with frustration. Her body was still sensitive, tingling with an overload of sexual awareness. All she could see in her mind’s eye was Alexio Christakos’s hard-boned gorgeous face and that mouth-wateringly perfect body, but all she could hear was the airline official saying again, ‘Look, miss, I’m sorry. This is the weekend of the England versus Ireland rugby final. There is no way you are going to get a ticket to Dublin today or tomorrow. So unless you want to try swimming the Irish Sea...’

                Sidonie felt the press of people behind her, all looking to get home, and felt despair. The official was already dealing with the next person and, despondent, Sidonie turned away. She went back out through the main doors, half expecting to see Alexio still standing there with an imperious look on his face, but he and his car were gone and Sidonie felt absurdly like crying.

                Why had she been so hell-bent on denying herself an evening with the most charismatic man she’d ever met? The ghost of her mother whispered to her, reminding Sidonie of her strong instinct to deny anything that was just for herself. She always had to work for it.

                She’d vowed long ago not to be grasping like her mother, who had been oblivious to the pain of others around her—especially that of her husband, who had devoted his life to her in spite of the fact that she’d humiliated him publicly. In spite of the fact that he’d always known that Sidonie wasn’t even his biological daughter.