I cleared my throat. ‘Come in.’

One of the younger staff members who helped manage the villa entered with a shy smile. She’d been introduced to me last night, when my senses had been grappling with unfolding events.

With a strained smile, I pulled the robe closer around me and returned her greeting.

Her gaze passed quickly over my towel. ‘May I assist you with anything, kyria?’

‘If you could direct me to where my belongings are, I’d appreciate it.’

‘Of course. This way, please.’

Expecting her to leave the room, I was surprised when she crossed to the opposite side and opened another door.

I followed her through a short hallway into another impressive suite, complete with living room, bathroom and dressing room.

An adjoining suite.

‘I came to ask if you would like some breakfast, Kyria Xenakis?’

The title added another layer of shock to my system and it took me a few seconds to answer with a question of my own. ‘Um...is Kyrios Xenakis still here?’

She nodded. ‘Yes. But he will be leaving soon. So if you wish to—’

‘Yes, I would very much like to. Can you wait for me to get dressed?’

Her eyes widened a touch, probably at the request. But I didn’t care. I needed answers. Needed to know how he intended the next twelve months to proceed. And, if necessary, insist on taking back control of my life.

My father had shown me that he cared nothing about me except as a pawn to further his needs. Regardless of my commitment to Axios, I didn’t intend to be pushed around any more.

That affirmation anchored deep as I concentrated on getting dressed.

The small suitcase that had accompanied me when I left Nicrete was empty, its contents sitting on a lonely shelf in the vast dressing room. But those weren’t the only contents of the large, opulent space. Rack upon rack of clothes were displayed in fashion seasons, with matching shoes arranged by colour, height and style.

Awestruck, I stared. It was by far the most extensive collection I’d seen outside a clothes store. Simply because I didn’t know who the clothes in the closets belonged to, I fished out a simple shirt dress from my own belongings, added comfortable flats and caught my hair in a ponytail.

The maid led me down the stairs and through several halls before stopping at a set of double doors.

‘He’s in there,’ she said softly. Then melted away.

The faint sound of clinking cutlery reached my ears as I paused to take a fortifying breath. But, aware that no amount of deep breathing could prepare me for the morning after last night, I pushed the door open.

He was seated at the head of a long, exquisitely laid table. Impeccably dressed in formal business attire, minus the jacket, with the sun streaming down on him.

I almost lost my footing at the sheer visceral impact of his masculinity. It really was unfair how attractive Axios Xenakis was. How the simple act of caressing his bottom lip with his forefinger, his brow furrowed in concentration, could spark fire low in my belly.