He took her elbow and pulled her forward. “You don’t sound happy to be out of there.”
Keeping her gaze ahead, which was sure going to break her neck, she quipped, “More like not happy to be out here. I don’t want to go in there, Dmitri. I just need a few more minutes of your—”
“We’re going to need a lot more than a few minutes to sort things out, Jasmine. And if I can belong here,” he threw at her arrogantly, “then you can.”
“Sort out...what? Why?”
His long fingers dug into her flesh as if to jostle her. She pulled at his grip with her fingers but he didn’t relent. “You will not look at me. Why?”
She angled her head and caught a quick glimpse just to defy him.
Piercing gray eyes held hers in an open challenge and she turned away.
The doorman held out the door for them, a familiar smile on his face. Dmitri greeted him by name and Jasmine followed slowly. He had been so close all these years. And she had never known.
“You stay here regularly?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t realize you visited London anymore.”
“And you would know because you have kept in touch?” An impression of contained energy and a barely civil smile hit her. “Stavros prefers to look after the Athens side of the business.”
Entering the brilliantly lit lobby from the dark, hushed luxury of the outside was like stepping into a different world. Jasmine blinked and stared around, losing her bearings for a few minutes.
Black-and-white art deco flooring complemented soft beige walls while a stunning, magnificent chandelier took center stage in the vast space. Bold lines and sweeping curves made the hotel look timelessly elegant.
And Dmitri stood in the center of it all.
Black jeans and black leather jacket made him look effortlessly breathtaking, the long, lean lines of his body drawing looks from more than one woman even in the predawn hours.
He might have started where she did, but there was an aura of casual power and panache that made Dmitri not just blend, but stand out amidst the extravagant grandeur of the hotel.
At five-ten, she matched his six-three stride easily. She only wished she could say the same of her clothes and more important, her insides. The vast foyer felt as if it would take forever to cross and all she wanted to do was to fade away from the brilliant lights.
It was not that she thought herself plain. On the contrary, she had heard all her life, and felt nauseous, that she was exotic, lush, possessed of perfect voluptuousness for her vocation. She was stared at six nights of the week and earned her living making love to a pole, but it was how she felt next to the casual elegance of the man next to her that bothered her.
The shame that always clung to her, as if it was etched into her very skin, was amplified when she stood next to him. Just as it stung her that he had seen her at such a weak moment.
As if suddenly he was a measure of her looks, her world, her very life.
She flinched when he pulled her away from the reception area toward the bank of elevators. He held her loosely and yet a thread of his emotions, not so contained, brimmed within him.
Beneath that polite smile, she had a feeling he was ragingly furious. And she was afraid of finding out why.
“The hotel is fit for a king,” she said, trying to keep the utter awe she felt out of her words.
“I have a feeling that you’re the opposite of impressed.”
The doors of the lift closed with a soft ping, trapping them inside. Her heart beat like the thundering hooves of a horse when he hit the stop button.
“You have to look at me now, Jasmine” came his soft command.
“You’re making a big deal out of...”
“Are you afraid of me, thee mou?”
Shaking her head, she looked up.
The four walls of the lift were glittering mirrors that showed her a stunningly gorgeous face.
Her femininity, beaten down and stuffed into a bag, roared a primal scream of joy at the sight of the magnificent man in front of her. Every inch of her—from her skin to her breasts, from her cells to her core—stood to attention.
His legs crossed at the ankles, his hands gripping the wall behind him, he filled the space with his masculinity. Something else burst into life in that enclosed space, swelling and arching, until Jasmine felt as though there was a hum inside her every nerve.
Even at sixteen, he had had arresting features, but now...the power he exuded and his command of the world filled the planes and angles of his face, making him a lethal combination of stunning looks and effortless masculinity.