London, England

October 7

Zoe was so close to climax she didn’t register the sound at first.

She’d found an empty conference room near the party that was perfect for their needs and scored a bottle of champagne and two glasses from a passing waiter. But Eleni had been so delightfully eager that the bottle remained unopened, precariously balanced on the edge of the long table a few feet away.

Zoe reclined on top of the smooth mahogany surface, resting on her elbows, her dress hiked up to her waist. Eleni sat before her in a cushioned chair, positioned so Zoe’s legs were draped across her shoulders. Zoe had a perfect vantage point to watch the woman go down on her, and the visual, combined with the Greek’s talented tongue, were enough to send her rapidly toward the precipice.

Her mind was so hazy with lust and arousal it took too long for her to realize she had heard a knock on the door. Before she had the chance to reply or react, Eleni’s husband stood there, knuckles stark white as he clenched the doorknob.

“What the hell is going on?” he demanded in a thick accent. His angry glare was fixed on his wife, who’d bolted upright from her chair. Shame darkened Eleni’s features as she wiped at her mouth, smearing her lipstick.

Zoe never flinched and felt no compulsion to immediately adjust the dress still pooled about her waist. “If I have to explain, then surely the Greeks have been overestimated.”

Eleni’s husband moved into the room, leaving the door ajar, and the couple launched into a heated debate in their native language. Zoe had eased off the table and adjusted her dress when noise from the hallway alerted her they were about to have more company. But before she could make a discreet exit, her father joined them.

“Zoe?” Derrick’s tone was accusatory as he took in her dress, Eleni’s lipstick, her husband’s outrage, and the champagne bottle.

“Hi, Daddy,” she replied, nonplussed. This was nothing compared to some of her previous indiscretions. “Eleni and I were getting to know each other when her husband walked in.”

At this, the angry Greek ceased the tirade with Eleni and turned his attention toward Derrick. “Your daughter corrupted my wife.”

“Zoe?” her father said again, his expression extolling her to explain and apologize.

“Oh, please.” She pivoted to face Eleni’s husband. “Any woman displaying this much vigor and talent was ‘corrupted’ long before I came along.”

A burst of light from behind them made all four turn in the direction of the door. Several people had been drawn to the doorway by the shouting. Most were curious partygoers, but in the front was a well-known tabloid photographer who’d caught Zoe misbehaving on several previous occasions. Grinning at them, the man got a second shot of their startled expressions before anyone could react.

Derrick spoke first. “Get the hell out of here, you damn vulture.”

“Shit,” the Greek couple said in unison as they hurried out of the room.

The photographer ducked away, but several other voyeurs stood their ground. “The peep show’s over,” Zoe announced as she shut the door.

Derrick ran his hands through his hair. “How could you be so—”

“Bored and horny? Easy. The first usually precedes the latter.” As she always did in such circumstances, she tried to make light of the situation, and her blunt response was not unusual. Since her mother’s death, she and Derrick had always spoken frankly with each other.

But he was clearly in no mood for it tonight. “This is not the time for your customary flippancy,” he snapped, and began to pace.

“Don’t be dramatic, Dad,” she replied tiredly.

He stopped and glared at her. “This will be all over the tabloids by tomorrow.”

“It’s not like the paparazzi caught us in the act,” she said. “All he has is a snapshot of us talking. The rest is hearsay.”

“Which I’m sure some of the onlookers will verify.” Derrick sank into the chair Eleni had vacated and loosened his tie. “Christ, Zoe. Is it so difficult for you to stay out of trouble? To abstain from getting on your back?”

“Don’t make it sound like I’m some kind of nympho. Besides, I’ve been on my best behavior for—”

“Over a whole year.” Derrick was clearly infuriated and Zoe was beginning to regret her decision to mix business with pleasure tonight. “Give my daughter a trophy for staying out of the tabloids for three hundred and sixty-five days.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I was sure she had locked the door.”

“I’m sorry?” he repeated, shaking his head. “Aside from the fact that you sound disingenuous, I’m sure a part of you finds all this amusing.”

She frowned and took a tentative step in his direction. “That’s not true.”

“You’re a twenty-nine-year-old woman working for a multimillion-pound company, and all you have to say for yourself is that you’re sorry?”

Zoe couldn’t blame him for being angry. He’d bailed her out of trouble more times than she could count, always with little complaint. Everyone, she supposed, had their breaking point.

“The fact that you’re sorry does not change a damn thing,” her father said. Derrick rarely raised his voice at her and never cursed, so she began to grasp the seriousness of the situation. “Listen to me, Zoe, and listen carefully. I have spent the past year trying to save this company. I’ll never be able to do that if you keep putting our names—and the airline’s—in the scandal sheets. I love you, and you know and count on that, but I will not throw away a lifetime of hard work and sacrifice because you refuse to grow up.” He cradled his head between his hands tiredly and didn’t speak for several seconds. “Maybe we need to reconsider your involvement in this company.”

That got her attention. “What are you saying?” she asked carefully.

“It’s too late to find a replacement for the Colombian launch the day after tomorrow, and perhaps it’s a good idea to get you out of the country as this shit hits the tabloids. But after you get back… maybe it would do you good to…” He looked up at her.

“Can we skip the faux buildup?” she asked, her heartbeat accelerating. “What are you saying?”

“I’m about to do something I should have done a long time ago. Honey, it’s time you grew up, and it’s time I started acting like a father rather than a friend. Maybe if you have to worry about putting food on your table, you’ll have less time to get into trouble.”

Zoe gasped. “You’re cutting me off?”

“Only until you grow up.” He rose and put his hand over hers. “I’m also firing you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I just did.”

She knew that look on his face. He was determined to see this through. “You must be joking.”

“I’ll have the limo pick you up for the airport the day after tomorrow at six p.m. sharp. Please be ready.” He headed for the door.

“What if I refuse to go?” she called after him.

He had his hand on the doorknob but turned back to face her. “That would be a poor decision. This will be your last decent paycheck for a while, after all.”

“Bloody hell,” she whispered, still in shock.

“Welcome to the real world, honey.” He shut the door between them, leaving Zoe alone to contemplate her predicament.

Date: 2015-01-11; view: 864