Because, Alex, her one friend who hadn’t turned away from her, who had tried to contact her even after Calista’s death and her marriage, had ended up in jail on some trumped-up charges Stavros and that equally arrogant Dmitri had fabricated out of thin air.
The depth of her hatred for Stavros left her shaking uncontrollably.
A steel band wound around her waist and jerked her away from the stranger. Maybe he was even a teenager, she thought, feeling old and tired at just twenty-four.
She fell against a solid, hard frame with a soft thud that knocked the breath out of her.
Unlike the man she had been dancing with, Stavros was all hard, unforgiving muscle that sent her body into shock at the contact.
Long fingers held her arms in a grip this short of hurting and turned her, the heat emanating from his body hitting her like a wave of the sea.
Blinking, Leah raised her gaze and then shied away immediately.
Coward, a voice mocked her inside but she didn’t care.
The soporific effect of the alcohol she had consumed stunting the hatred that buzzed her blood, she went like a doll incapable of independent motion as he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.
The jutting bones of his shoulders dug into her rib cage, her breasts crushed by his muscular back but Leah refused to let even a whimper emerge.
The world tilted upside down and a tear seeped through despite her efforts. The quiet hush that preceded them was like the calm before the storm...
She had done what she had wanted to do.
She had made a spectacle of herself, she had Stavros’s attention.
Except nothing could numb her to the blistering contempt that had flashed in his gaze in the split second she had looked into it.
She squeezed her eyes shut and gave herself over to the haze in her head.
* * *
Leah jerked and breathed in great gulps as ice-cold water drenched her from all sides. She yelped and scooted back on her bum but there was no escape from the chilly spray. Her breath came in quick, short bursts, her lungs struggling to pump it out.
Another hard surface at her back thwarted her attempt at escape and she gave up, shuddering.
Reaching out with her hands, she touched cold marble. Her gaze flew open and she blinked to get the water out. The gold silk plastered to her body offered no protection against the cold. Shivering, she looked around, the chill sinking into her blood, raising goose bumps over her skin.
With shaking hands, she pushed her wet hair out of her face, her mascara running in black rivers down her fingers. So much for waterproof.
Blew out a long breath through her mouth and tried to make sense of her bearings.
She didn’t need to turn to see Stavros standing there, watching her with malicious satisfaction. Could muster not a bit of surprise at what he had done.
Even through every nerve in her flinched at the cold, Leah could still feel his wrath, the heat of his anger. She stretched her arm, still shaking and turned off the glinting silver faucets.
Suddenly, all she wanted to do was curl up in the marble tub and close her eyes. Her body sank into the tub as if her muscles had no rigidness anymore.
“Get out of the tub.” The quiet command landed on her like a slap, jerking her back to the purgatory that waited for her.
And the man who wanted to punish her for the rest of her life.
Even after years, she had no strength to face Stavros, couldn’t face...
No, she wouldn’t feel sorry for herself. Not after all that she had done today to just see him.
Clutching the marble, she pulled herself up to her legs.
Seconds piled on as the shaking in her legs subsided and the luxuriously spacious bathroom stopped swaying in front of her.
Blinking at the glare of light from a crystal chandelier overhead, she took in the dark oak floors and the blue sea outside the window.
Instead of the din, so nerve-racking that she swayed, utter calm reigned.
On shaking legs, she stepped out, dripping water everywhere. Her shoulders shook with the effort it took to keep standing.
A towel came straight at her with a resounding, “Cover yourself.”
She buried her face in the plush cotton, taking the few seconds of privacy it afforded to shore up her defenses. But the contemptuous note in his tone pricked, as if a needle had punctured her skin and drew blood.
Fighting the urge to stay behind the towel, she straightened her spine and threw the towel back. “I’m wearing a dress, thank you. It’s your fault if it reveals more than it covers,” she said, brazening it out.