Secrets of Cinderella’s Awakening by Sharon Kendrick

CHAPTER FIVE

THEKNOCKONthe door was quiet yet insistent, but Marnie ignored it. She didn’t want to see anyone and she definitely didn’t want to speak to anyone. The hurt and humiliation she’d felt when she’d seen Leon Kanonidou down by the poolside with all his sophisticated buddies had been bad enough but she probably could have coped with it. Of course she could, because didn’t it only reinforce what she had already known? That she could trust nobody. Nobody at all. The only person she could rely on was herself and she should forget that at her peril.

She had gone through the rest of the day on autopilot and returned to her room in time to receive a call from her twin in England—a short and deeply upsetting exchange before Pansy’s prison phone credit ran out, which it always did. But the gist of the conversation had been devastating. Her twin’s lawyer had announced that she probably was looking at a jail sentence and Marnie had listened to her sister’s rising hysteria, feeling impotent and useless and too far away.

It had been the final straw and she had given into a violent flurry of tears which had taken her by surprise, because crying was something she rarely succumbed to. Had her sexual awakening made her more susceptible to the great swings of emotion which were barrelling through her and if that were the case, then wasn’t that yet another reason to steer clear of men in future? Her sobs had subsided now and she had scrubbed at her face with a hankie, but someone knocking on her door was the last thing she wanted.

She didn’t care if it was Jodie calling to see if she was feeling better, or one of the hotel waitresses enquiring whether she’d be interested in going out for a drink later, which she never was. Basically, she just wanted to tick off the hours until she could fly back to London and discover for herself if Pansy’s lawyer was as bad as her sister claimed. And she would prefer to do it by burying her head underneath a duvet, and sleeping through the next twenty-four hours.

But it was only six in the evening and there was no duvet to be seen since, according to the hotel guidebook, the temperature on Paramenios was always warm—even in winter. And now, at the tail end of summer, it was almost unbearably hot in this cramped little room—with the noisy fan whirring away in one corner a poor substitute for air conditioning. And somehow she couldn’t escape from the taunting memories which seemed determined to plague her.

Pushing a clump of hair away from her sticky brow, she remembered Leon watching while she painted the glamorous Ariane’s nails. His gaze had been unsettlingly intense, as if he were examining her underneath a microscope, and she had felt...

No. She didn’t really want to think about how she had felt—because it wasn’t very helpful to realise that he had the ability to make her react in a way which was reminiscent of a helpless turtle which had just had the shell ripped from its back. She didn’t want to dwell on her rush of mortification either, when Ariane had pressed a large banknote into her hand as a tip. Obviously, the money would come in very useful, but the ultra-generous amount had made her feel awkward—and Marnie had only just stopped herself from declaring that she didn’t need it.

As if.

But as she had scuttled away from that glittering group of revellers, she had felt less than. Just as she’d felt throughout most of her life. An outsider. The odd one out. The object of ridicule and scorn.

The knock was repeated.

‘Will you go away?’ she said. But the caller was nothing if not persistent, so eventually Marnie got up from the lumpy mattress and opened the door—her heart clenching like a vice when she saw Leon standing there. He had changed from his pool attire into a pair of tailored trousers and a charcoal-coloured shirt, which emphasised the blackness of his hair. These clothes were also screamingly expensive and hugged his muscular frame as if they’d been designed for him—which they probably had—and once again he seemed to represent a personification of virile power.

His unexpected appearance was a massive shock to the system but not as unwelcome as it should have been and instantly Marnie could feel her body begin to betray her again. Beneath the uniform dress, which she hadn’t bothered to remove, she could feel her breasts springing into rampant life.

What was the matter with her? she wondered furiously. Why was she still attracted to such a deceiving cheat? Yet it horrified her to realise she was also worrying about how awful she must look, with her tear-streaked face and bedhead hair. Her hand tightened on the door handle as she tried not to think about the way he had kissed her. Tried to forget the hard warmth of his body and the way his fingers had stroked over her skin as her yelps of pleasure had subsided into purring little sighs. ‘Go away right now or I’ll slam the door in your face,’ she vowed softly. ‘And don’t think I won’t.’

‘Are you sure you want to do that, Marnie?’

‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure!’

‘I would have to disagree with you on that particular point,’ he remarked coolly and she blushed at the implication.

‘Do you really think trying to ignore me is the best way to deal with our predicament?’ he continued.

‘The only predicament we have, Leon,’ she echoed sarcastically, ‘is two strangers standing looking at one another, with one of them wishing they’d never met.’

‘So would that be you, I wonder, agape mou? Or me?’

‘Oh!’she said, as wrong-footed by his silken retort as by his use of the word he’d murmured against her neck last night just before he’d made his fateful discovery of her innocence. But she didn’t want to think about that either. She wanted to remind herself that he was trespassing and she had the upper hand. ‘I’m not going to say it again,’ she vowed.

‘Five minutes. That’s all.’

‘And then you’ll go?’

He shrugged. ‘If you still want me to.’

He sounded so sure of himself, she thought furiously. So completely certain that she would comply with his wishes. She supposed the subtext was that no woman in her right mind would ever eject a man like him from the premises. Which was exactly what she should do. But his gaze was so steady and compelling and once again he was managing to exude an aura of power so spellbinding that, stupidly, she didn’t want him to go. At least, not yet. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to hear him out, especially as they had been so intimate. Because what if someone saw him and worked out what he was doing on her doorstep? Hadn’t one of the waitresses recently been sacked for skinny-dipping with one of the clientele? She mustn’t forget that she was leaving the day after tomorrow—so why jeopardise her much-needed bonus, by risking someone discovering she’d had sex with one of the hotel’s most important guests?

She opened the door a little wider. ‘I suppose you’d better come in,’ she said.

‘Efharisto.’

‘I’d like to say you’re welcome,but I’m not that much of a hypocrite!’

He smiled and instantly his powerful body seemed to suck up all the available light and air, as if the universe were silently acknowledging his formidable presence. Clicking the door shut, Marnie moved as far away from him as possible—not terribly easy in this confined space—because close up he was making her feel helpless. And she wasn’t helpless. That was what she needed to remember. She was strong. That was her trademark. Her legacy from having been ejected from her mother’s womb a full five minutes before her sister, and then left to deal with the dreadful fallout of that day. She tilted her chin and regarded him unwaveringly.

‘Okay. You’ve got five minutes, and the clock is ticking.’

He didn’t seem in the least bit fazed by her attitude—in fact, he was behaving as if he was enjoying the challenge rather than being annoyed by it. And didn’t his unflustered air only add to his lazy confidence, which had been one of the things which had attracted her to him in the first place?

‘You’re angry,’ he mused.

‘Yes, I’m angry. But I’ll get over it.’

‘And you’ve been crying.’

‘So? That’s not a crime, is it?’

‘Is it because I didn’t ask to see you again?’

‘Oh, the arrogance! Is that what you really think? That I’ve been sobbing into my pillow because you made clear it wasn’t going to happen again?’ She gave what she hoped was a liberated smile instead of the bitter laugh which was hovering on her lips. ‘I may not have had much experience with men, but I’ve listened to enough people over the years to understand the meaning of a casual hook-up. Don’t worry about it, Leon. I certainly wasn’t expecting a repeat performance.’

‘So what’s the problem?’

Her smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. The problem was that she felt overwhelmed by all her emotions—concern for her sister in prison but also how to deal with him. She’d been hurt before—many times—but never by a man, because she’d never put herself into a position where that could happen. And none of her usual coping mechanisms seemed to be working. She could admit that she’d found it humiliating to rock up with her manicure kit while he was standing quaffing champagne with his billionaire mates, but that wasn’t really what all this was about.

‘I thought you were like me,’ she said.

He frowned. ‘In what way?’

‘Ordinary.’ The word puffed out of her mouth. ‘Not...’

‘Rich?’ he prompted, into the pause which followed.

‘Rich?’she echoed. ‘Oh, come on, Leon. I suspect that’s a pretty modest assessment, judging by the bar bill which your party apparently ran up at lunch time, and by the way all the hotel staff keep referring to you all as if you’re some kind of royalty.’ She shook her head. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were staying here when you dropped me off last night, instead of letting me run across you while I was working? I felt completely disoriented when I saw you down by the pool.’

‘If you must know, I felt pretty disoriented myself.’

‘My heart bleeds for you.’

‘It doesn’t show,’ he said softly, his gaze flicking to the bodice of her white dress.

‘Someone in the spa was talking about you just before I finished my shift earlier,’ she said, wishing he wouldn’t look at her that way. Wishing he’d pull her into his arms and kiss her as she wanted to be kissed. She swallowed in an attempt to dissolve the erotic image. ‘And that’s when I discovered how inaccurately you had described yourself. Because you’re not a builder, are you, Leon? You’re one of the biggest property developers around. One of the richest men in the world apparently.’

‘I don’t deny it.’ He shrugged. ‘Perhaps now you can understand why I didn’t tell you.’

‘Actually, I don’t. So why don’t you enlighten me?’

Leon’s eyes narrowed. Did she really need him to spell it out? Usually, he would have sidestepped her questions because analysis was something he avoided whenever possible. But as he stared into her defiant face he honestly thought he would answer anything she asked of him right then. Was it her innate impishness, or the memory of her tight body which made him unusually indulgent with her? ‘The Kanonidou name carries a lot of baggage,’ he said heavily. ‘And a lot of expectations.’

‘And, what? Did you imagine I’d be trying to extract some of your fortune if I’d had any idea how rich you were? Demanding to know why you hadn’t used a gold-plated pair of tweezers to remove the sea-urchin spines?’

‘Do tweezers actually come in gold plate?’

‘I expect so,’ she said, pursing her lips as if she were trying not to laugh. ‘You can get pretty much anything you want if the price is right.’

‘You think I don’t know that?’ he demanded. ‘For once in my life I was enjoying the fact that you didn’t know who I was, or what I was worth, or what the papers are saying about my family. I can’t remember the last time that happened.’ He paused. ‘And I’ve never had dinner with a woman who offered to split the bill before.’

The look on her face became proud—the light in her eyes very bright.

‘I’ve always paid my way!’ she declared. ‘And it wouldn’t have made the slightest bit of difference if I’d known how much you had in your bank account, because I don’t care. That wasn’t the reason I had sex with you.’

‘I know, that was what was different for me. But I’m confused—what was the reason, then? Because that’s the bit that puzzles me, Marnie. For most women their virginity is a big deal. Why give your innocence to someone you’ve only just met?’

As he stared her down Marnie realised she had backed herself into a corner. Naturally, she was reluctant to admit how special he’d made her feel because it was, well...irrelevant. It would make her appear needy—as if nobody else had ever made her feel so desired, which also happened to be true. And it would undoubtedly feed his ego, which seemed inflated enough already. Yet if all the things she’d heard were correct, sex was mostly about the physical not the emotional, especially where men were concerned.

So what was wrong with identifying with that part of the equation?

Who wasn’t to say that, when she got back to England and managed to sort out Pansy’s current problems, she might actually find herself a permanent boyfriend? Someone more on her own wavelength. An ordinary man with an ordinary job, not some unreachable Greek tycoon with the face of a fallen angel. And if that were the case, then surely it would be better to be a little bit experienced. Men had always made her super-cautious but now she’d lost her virginity—and, given how much she’d enjoyed it, why shouldn’t she explore her own sexuality a little? Leon Kanonidou had asked her a straightforward question, so why not give him a straightforward answer?

‘Because I wanted to,’ she said bluntly. ‘I wanted to forget the outside world and everything which was going on in my life and somehow you made me...’ She shrugged. ‘You made me...’

‘I made you, what?’

The air seemed to grow very still. ‘Desire you,’ she breathed, her words sounding deliberate, and heavy.

‘Wow.’ His shuttered gaze made his eyes resemble splinters of sapphire as he breathed out his reaction. ‘That’s quite some testimony.’

‘You aren’t used to women praising your prowess?’

‘Not like that.’

‘Well, I give you full permission to use it on your CV,’ she said flippantly. ‘But I’d prefer the source to remain anonymous, if it’s all the same to you.’

‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ he said, and gave a low growl of laughter.

The sound was rich and sexy but Marnie forced herself to remember that it meant nothing. It was an illusion. She’d just made a powerful man laugh—so what? Nothing had changed. He was still a billionaire who had preferred to keep his identity private in case she started muscling in on his wealth, and she was still a tear-stained misfit standing in an overheated room, due to go back to England where a mountain of problems awaited her.

‘So now you know and you can go,’ she said quietly.

‘But I don’t know. Your explanation has only thrown up more questions.’ He stood there like a dark and immovable force, his eyes glittering as they stared her down. ‘And now I’m curious to know what was going on in your life which you so badly wanted to forget.’

If only his words weren’t softened with what sounded like genuine concern. Something which resembled kindness. Because that was Marnie’s undoing. That was what made her defences begin to weaken. She curled her hands into two tight fists, her fight-or-flight instinct kicking into action. After a childhood of being let down so many times, she wasn’t used to people being kind because she never let them close enough to try. The habit of a lifetime had taught her to guard her secrets and lock them away, because that was the safest thing to do.

But Leon Kanonidou knew her more intimately than anyone else. He had been deep inside her, his hard flesh united with hers so that for a while she had actually felt as if they were one person. Was it that which made her hesitate and foolishly give him the opening he was seeking?

‘It’s my...sister,’ she said. ‘My twin sister, Pansy. I’ve been worried about her, that’s all.’

She recovered enough to follow this up with a dismissive nod, indicating that the subject was closed—but Leon Kanonidou was either oblivious to the hint or deliberately choosing to ignore it.

‘What’s happened to her?’

‘I didn’t say anything had happened to her.’

‘But that’s what you implied.’ His gaze was very steady. ‘Tell me.’

Was this how people got so powerful? Marnie wondered wildly. Did they just use the compelling force of their personalities to make you feel you actually wanted to confide in them? Well, maybe Leon would get more than he bargained for. She couldn’t imagine him hanging around to investigate further once he discovered the facts. ‘She’s in trouble with the law,’ she said, the words sticking like glue to her throat.

‘Why?’

She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Tell me,’ he said again.

Oh, but his voice was so soft, so deep, so cajoling. It lulled her into a false sense of security. It made her imagine—for one brief and shining moment—how it might feel to have someone you could lean on.

‘She’s always been a bad judge of men. Maybe it’s congenital.’ She gave a short laugh and had the pleasure of seeing him flinch. ‘Her latest boyfriend asked her to carry a bag to Monaco for him and she agreed. I’m sure you can guess the rest.’

‘Drugs?’ he said quietly, his expression grim.

‘Diamonds, actually.’ But then Marnie stopped thinking about Leon—stopped thinking about anything other than lovely Pansy, who should have known better, but who trusted people way more than she ever should. ‘But she didn’t know what was in it!’ she burst out passionately. ‘She honestly didn’t know. You could rightly accuse her of being too gullible, but she’s not a criminal. She’s innocent!’

His blue eyes were very intense. ‘That’s what they all say.’

His cynical assessment made Marnie furious that she’d told him, and as angry tears sprang to her eyes she tried to turn away from him. But he stopped her. He put his hands on her shoulders and she could feel the power which flowed from their steady weight. And then he did the most unexpected thing. He reached one hand to her face to slowly wipe away the track of wetness which had trickled down her cheek. Somehow the gesture disarmed her and she couldn’t afford to let it. She jerked away from him, aware and afraid of what his touch could do to her.

‘Don’t you dare judge her!’

‘I’m not judging her,’ he said. ‘I’m just telling you how a prosecution lawyer would look at it.’

‘Oh, so you’re an expert in law as well, are you?’

‘Let’s just say I have a working knowledge of legal matters,’ he answered drily. ‘Where is she now?’

‘In prison. In London.’ She stared at him defiantly. ‘There! Shocked?’

‘It takes a lot to shock me, agape,’ he demurred. ‘Won’t they grant her bail?’

She moved her shoulders uncomfortably, knowing that she had said too much, but something about his response made her want to continue—because hadn’t she been bottling this up for so long? ‘No,’ she said flatly. ‘No bail. They think she might be vulnerable to outside influence—which is probably true.’

‘From the boyfriend?’ he interjected.

She pulled a face. ‘Yeah. The ex-boyfriend now. The case comes to court soon but the lawyer they’ve given her is rubbish. That’s the reason I came to Greece. It’s pretty much a certainty that Pansy’s going to get a custodial sentence, so I took this job because it’s unbelievably well paid and my salon in London gave me a leave of absence.’ The words were bubbling out now. Bubbling out in a torrent she couldn’t seem to stop. Yet wasn’t it a relief to say this stuff out loud, instead of letting it join all the other dark secrets which hung heavy on her shoulders? ‘At first I was determined to get her a better lawyer but when I discovered how much they charge per hour, I realised how naïve I was being. So instead I thought...’

Sapphire eyes speared into her. ‘You thought what?’

She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Marnie.’ There was a pause. ‘Please.’

It was a request but it was also a command and Marnie sucked in a breath, hating the way he seemed to be taking control. Hating it, yet revelling in it all at the same time. ‘I thought I could save some money for her. So she’d have something to support herself with when she was set free. A nest-egg to get her started. At least that’s something I can achieve.’

Leon watched as she fished a tissue from the pocket of her uniform and blew her nose, and afterwards surveyed him with an expression of defiance and vulnerability. He noted the untidy spill of her hair and the pinkness around her eyes and felt a tug of something he didn’t recognise deep inside him.

‘And what about your parents?’ he said. ‘Where do they come in all this? Can’t they help?’

He saw her stiffen.

‘My mother is dead and I never...’ She lifted her jaw almost pugnaciously. ‘I never knew my father. So now you know. You’ve heard everything and you can go.’ Her gaze was very steady. ‘Can’t you?’

All her defiance was still there but so too was a sudden sense of wariness which had made her words so brittle. Leon wondered if she was expecting condolences about her parents, but he made none. He couldn’t be that hypocritical and, besides, wouldn’t she be appalled if he told her the truth? That part of him envied her the inevitable freedom which resulted from being orphaned?

But she had painted a bleak picture of her life. Of someone struggling on her own and fighting against the odds. He looked around the small room, which was so hot it felt like being in a sauna. At the hairbrush lying on a table, next to a pile of well-read books and a photo of a beautiful woman who looked a lot like her. Was that her sister? A large, half-filled suitcase lay open on the floor in one corner and his gaze lingered on it for a moment longer. Did that mean she was leaving? And despite the inner voice of caution which was urging him to stay out of her troubles, he found himself ignoring it.

‘I can help you,’ he said suddenly.

Her suspicious eyes became iron-hard as she shook her head. ‘I don’t want your help.’

Leon frowned, for this was the last thing he had expected. In a world where wealth talked, he’d never met anyone who wasn’t eager to have a conversation. People never refused his money or influence. But then, he’d never met anyone like Marnie Porter before and the fierce pride radiating from her tiny frame drew from him an unwilling sense of admiration. ‘I have the wherewithal and the resources to help your sister,’ he growled. ‘Let me put them at your disposal.’

‘Thank you for the offer. It’s very kind of you and I appreciate it,’ she said. ‘But no.’

‘Why not?’

She considered his question for a moment. ‘Because I don’t really know you,’ she said at last. ‘And I don’t want to be beholden to you. I don’t want to be beholden to anyone.’

He stared into her determined face and could see she meant it. But he could also see that she was far from immune to him.

Nor he to her.

Her eyes had grown dark and the way she was chewing on her bottom lip was failing to conceal its telltale tremble. Against the bodice of the white uniform dress he could see the tantalising thrust of her nipples as they silently acknowledged his proximity—just as the hard ache at his groin acknowledged hers. He could feel the throb of mutual desire which flowed between them like like some tangible life-force. The sexual chemistry between them had been intense and powerful from the start—and, oh, the temptation to capitalise on it was overwhelming.

He knew he could pull her into his arms and kiss her and within minutes she would be kissing him back with the same hunger which had captivated him on the beach last night. He swallowed, tortured by all the possibilities which might follow such a move. He pictured his hands exploring her newly awoken body, hearing those mewling little cries of hunger as she touched him back. He imagined his fingers rucking up her uniform dress to slide down panties he suspected would already be wet. Would she instinctively tilt her pelvis towards him—inviting him to ravish her here, where she stood, her back pressed up against the wall and her legs wrapped around his back? Or would she lead him over to that lumpy-looking bed where they could spend a long and sticky night together?

But that would be wrong, on so many levels. He needed an outspoken hairdresser with a sister in jail like he needed a hole in the head.

The aching in his body was almost unendurable but Leon forced himself to project an indifference which, for once, was proving elusive.

‘If that’s what you want.’

‘It is.’

‘Then I guess I must wish you well. Goodbye, Marnie.’

‘Goodbye, Leon.’

He saw the shadow which flickered over her face just before he turned his back on her and wondered if she would break in the short time it took for him to walk to the door. Would she call him back and tell him she’d changed her mind? Tell him that she wanted his money and his body—and didn’t the prospect of that fill him with heady anticipation?

But she didn’t.

She didn’t say another word as he let himself out into the sultry darkness of the Greek evening and Leon experienced a powerful sense of disappointment.

And surprise.