PROLOGUE

THESEXUALTENSION between Erin Murphy and the man in the elevator was thick enough to cut with a knife. A million and one sensations fizzed through her blood and body. Triumph. The satisfaction of a job well done. But more than all that was desire.

But even the word desire was too polite. It was sheer, raw lust. And danger. Illicitness.

Because the man was no mere man. He was her boss. Not even her boss. He was her boss's, boss's boss. With probably a couple more bosses in between.

It had been building for the last few weeks, while they'd been locked in rooms with the most intense negotiations taking place.

Obviously she'd been aware of how gorgeous he was. How sexy. The whole world knew it, and it had hit her right between the eyes the day she'd been hired on to his legal team as an attorney, proving she was no different from the masses. But she'd buried it down deep—because she knew it was so inappropriate to fancy him, and because she was eager to make a good impression. This was her first job since completing a master's degree in corporate law, and she'd been hired specifically because of that additional expertise.

She'd thought she'd had her crush under control. Until these last few weeks of being in the professional equivalent of a pressure cooker.

Ajax Nikolau was a Greek god. Or, as near to a god as a mortal could be. Beautiful, with mesmeric deep-set green-blue eyes that popped from a chiseled face, and a mouth that called to mind sin and sex. Thick wavy dark hair. Tall, powerful build. Athletic. He wore suits, but the way they moulded to his sculpted form was downright provocative.

Together with a mind as sharp as a rapier, it was a potent combination.

He was also, arguably, one of the wealthiest men in the world—since approximately an hour ago, when the last contract had been signed. He now had full control of his family logistics business. He'd been rich before—astronomically—but now he was on a par with fabled Indian steel magnates and media titans.

But Erin didn't care about any of that. Because it didn't mean anything to her beyond the fact that she'd done her job. All she could see was him. The man. Flesh and blood. Sinew and bone. Hard muscle. Eyes blazing with a heat that connected directly to her core in a way that had never happened to her before.

They'd had champagne to celebrate with the rest of the team after the signing, and the sparkling wine still lingered in her veins like bubbling electricity. She couldn't believe that this was happening. Even though nothing had actually been articulated. It was in the air. Potent.

Just moments ago they'd been in the foyer of Ajax Nikolau's office building in downtown Manhattan, and as Erin had been about to leave, along with the rest of the legal team, he'd called her name.

She'd turned around, fixing a polite smile to her face. ‘Yes?'

‘I have some papers in my home office. I think it's best if you take them for safekeeping. Is that okay?'

Erin had frowned briefly. The last thing Ajax Nikolau had to worry about was the security of anything. The man was more well-guarded than a head of state. Along with his offices, he had properties strewn from one end of the globe to the other. So it had been an odd request.

But then she'd looked into his eyes and she'd seen the veneer of civility stripped away.

He wants me.

It had hit her like a thunderbolt right in the gut. She'd suspected, but whenever she'd caught him watching her over the previous weeks she'd looked away, telling herself she was being ridiculous. Mortified to have been caught looking at him.

Why on earth would a man like Ajax Nikolau be remotely interested in a woman like her? She didn't incite men to paroxsyms of desire. Especially not men like him. She was reasonably fit. Her features were symmetrical enough. But there was nothing about her that drew attention, and that was how she liked it.

Except now she was in this elevator, with him, and she had to face the unbelievable fact that somehow she'd drawn the eye of one of the most exciting men in the world. There wasn't enough oxygen going to her brain for her to try and figure out why.

This was, without a doubt, the most spontaneous, out-of-character thing she'd ever done in her life.

Meanwhile the elevator kept ascending to the penthouse. And suddenly Erin went cold with a flash of panic. What if she'd read the signals wrong? What if the triumph of the deal, the champagne, had all gone to her head and here she was, mentally climbing the man like a monkey, when he literally meant to just give her some papers and send her on her way?

But then, as if reading her mind, he put out a hand, pressed a button, and the elevator came to an incongruously smooth stop between floors.

Nikolau's voice was a little rough. ‘Just so we're clear: I want you, Erin. But you're under no obligation to do anything except take the papers and leave.'

Erin gulped. Had he read her mind? Had she spoken out loud?

He does want me. I'm not hallucinating.

A mixture of relief and dizzying excitement made her tremble. She said faintly, ‘There are actually papers?'

He nodded. ‘But I won't lie. I used them as a pretext to get you alone. For weeks now you've been driving me crazy. I know this is crossing a million boundaries—and, believe me, if I felt I could resist... I would.'

His jaw clenched at that, as if he was irritated with himself, with his own lack of control.

The mere thought of pushing this man to the edge of his control was beyond heady.

Something ridiculous ocurred to her. ‘What do I call you?' She'd always referred to him as ‘Mr Nikolau', even though he had said to them all that they should call him Ajax.

‘My name is Ajax.'

She tried it out. ‘Ajax...' It felt strange. Illicit.

He touched her jaw. ‘I like the way it sounds when you say it.'

Erin might have rolled her eyes if she'd been less in awe and not still reeling.

What he'd just said—that he couldn't resist her—was just so beyond her comprehension of who she was—essentially boring—that she almost felt like giggling a little hysterically. But then the look on his face stopped her. It was stark. Hungry.

For her.

Plain, academic, serious Erin Murphy.

She'd led an academically driven existence for as long as she could remember. As the only child of a professor, it was all she'd really known. Her life had rarely, if ever, been given over to moments of spontaneity or just...fun. Not that this moment could be described as ‘fun', exactly, when Ajax was looking at her with such an intense expression that she realised she'd never really seen him smile.

She knew there were reasons for that—he'd tragically lost his wife and child in an accident some years ago—and suddenly, as if galvanised by that reminder, and the sense of her own somewhat staid life, instead of doing the sane thing, the safe thing—stepping back out of this moment of madness—Erin moved towards him. Towards the madness.

She touched her mouth to his, trembling all over. For a second he didn't move, and Erin became acutely aware that she was pressed up against a wall of steel. She went cold again. Maybe she'd overstepped the mark? Even though he'd told her he wanted her, maybe he was the kind of guy who didn't appreciate women making the first move?

But before she could overthink it he took her elbows in his hands, holding her to him, and his mouth moved over hers. Any suspicion that she'd done the wrong thing because she'd initiated contact was gone. Melted. Turned to ash.

She couldn't feel her legs. His mouth was hard and soft, demanding but asking, all at once. It was like no kiss she'd ever experienced. Erin had to pull back for a second, dragging in a breath. Her vision was blurred. Kissing Ajax was like being pulled into a vortex, going faster and faster.

As if he sensed she was overwhelmed, he stopped and cupped her jaw. She felt her hair being freed from its tidy chignon, falling around her shoulders. His eyes followed the movement, and then his fingers were in her hair.

‘It's like burnt gold.'

She couldn't find a breath. He was making her hair sound...extraordinary. But really it was nothing special. It wasn't blonde, or red...it was somewhere in between. Her mother's hair. But her mother was the last person Erin wanted to think about at that moment, because thinking of her inevitably brought painful memories of abandonment, so she reached for his tie and loosened it, opening his top button of his shirt.

The hollow at the bottom of his throat was exposed, and it felt ridiculously intimate even though they were both still fully clothed.

As if reading Erin's mind again, Ajax pushed her jacket off her shoulders and it fell to the ground. Long fingers efficiently undid the silk bow at her neck and then moved down to her buttons. She imagined them slipping free of the silk, eager to please him.

She almost felt like giggling again, but sobered up when he pushed her open shirt aside and looked at her for a long moment. At her breasts, encased in silk. Erin felt a blush rise into her face. She'd always had a slightly embarrassing preference for expensive materials close to her skin. A taste for luxury that didn't exist anywhere else in her life.

He dislodged her shirt so that it fell off one shoulder. He slipped his fingers under the strap of her bra, dropping it onto her arm, and the cup immediately fell down over the curve of her breast.

She shivered.

Erin had no idea what to expect...she hadn't gone as far as audaciously fantasising about what it would be like with a man like this. But she knew she never would have imagined this...this exquisite slow-burn torture.

He cupped her breast and her nipple pinched tight. Her breath became more shallow. And then he lowered his head and his mouth closed over the straining tip.

It was like an electric shock to the system, the laving of his tongue and the sucking of his mouth...all that hot moisture. Her hands tangled in his hair. She couldn't even remember putting her hands there. She wanted to do the same to him—take off his clothes, bare him—but he was kissing her again and palming her breast, fingers trapping that nipple and pinching.

She gasped into his mouth.

His tongue was hot, demanding, and she had no choice but to submit with an eagerness that might have mortified her if she'd been capable of rational thought.

Erin could feel his erection pressing against her and she moved against him instinctively, seeking more contact. He pulled her skirt up, bunching it over her hips, and then his fingers were spreading over her thigh, lifting it to hook her leg around his waist, bringing her into even deeper contact with his body.

She broke the kiss. His hardness was right there. At the apex of her legs. Where every nerve-ending was throbbing. Erin wanted to free him and push her underwear aside, so there would be no barrier to a more intimate connection. The need was so intense she could hardly breathe.

She tried to communicate it with her eyes. She'd never wanted anything so badly. So urgently. Here. Now.

Time stood still, and for an infinitesimal moment she could see that he was as hungry as her. But then something flickered across his face. So fast she couldn't decipher it. Yet it looked like shock.

He pulled back, and Erin almost whimpered. Mortifyingly.

He put her leg back down and said roughly, ‘Not here...like this. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me.'

Erin's brain was too heated to fully understand until he pushed the elevator button and it softly jolted into movement again. Upwards. She breathed out when she realised he wasn't taking them back down to the ground level.

They ascended so high her ears popped. Then the elevator stopped again and the doors opened, straight into what had to be Ajax's apartment. She'd never been there. His offices were a few levels down.

The apartment was sleek and minimalistic. Huge ceiling-to-floor glass windows. Modern art on the walls. Sofas and chairs that looked inviting but which Erin had a feeling had never really been sat in. She knew Ajax tended to entertain in venues. Not at home.

Even though she'd been working for him for weeks, she still wasn't used to the level of opulence in his world. But she wasn't given a chance to linger or look around. He took her hand and led her silently through the dimly lit space, down a corridor and into a room at the other end of the apartment.

His bedroom. There were huge walls of glass again, giving what had to be a breathtaking view of lower Manhattan at night, a glittering skyline of lights. The blinking lights of a helicopter flew across the night sky.

But then it was all eclipsed. Because Ajax turned her around to face him and she swallowed. Suddenly intimidated to be here, in his private space.

‘Are you sure you want to do this, Erin? You can stop...walk away at any time.'

Something inside her eased. She'd known he was a man of integrity after watching him do business, but to have him really care about her consent was something she hadn't even realised she needed.

She nodded. ‘I want this.' You.

She'd never considered herself a very sexual person. She'd had one boyfriend in college, here in Manhattan, and they'd both decided to amicably split up when they'd graduated and he'd moved to Los Angeles. There had been no major grief. She'd had no intention of leaving New York, where she'd been born and had grown up. And the sex... Her boyfriend was the only person she'd had sex with, and at no point had she ever felt for him what she was feeling now.

Desperate. Hungry.

It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once. As if she wasn't as in control of her own reactions as she'd always thought she was. Erin was a cerebral person, and she'd never been so aware of her body.

Ajax started to take off his clothes. Jacket shucked off and thrown to the floor. Tie pulled off. Shirt opened, revealing a broad, muscled chest with a dusting of hair across his pectorals.

Erin had hardly caught her breath when his hands were on his trousers and he was undoing them, pushing them down over lean hips. Stepping out of them. Shoes and socks gone.

Now he stood before her fully naked, and she was...in shock. She didn't know where to look and she wanted to look everywhere. Her gaze travelled over inches of dark golden flesh, the evidence of his lineage from Greece. Down further. Flat stomach, slim hips and...his erection. She gulped. He was big. The sheer evidence of his virility was daunting.

‘I'm feeling a little underdressed here, Erin.'

She looked up and could see his mouth twitching. That beautfiul sexy mouth.

Her heart hitched. Oh, my.

She realised her own state of undress. Shirt and bra half on, half off. Jacket gone. Still in the elevator? Skirt still ruched up over one thigh. Hair tumbling over her shoulders. Too long. She hadn't had time to get it cut.

Before she could figure out where to start, Ajax stepped close and pushed her shirt down over her arms and off. It fell to the floor. He reached around behind her to undo her bra. It too fell away.

For some inexplicable reason Erin didn't feel self-conscious. Maybe it was because Ajax had already bared himself. He reached for the fastening at the side of her skirt and opened it, easing it down over her hips.

Now all she wore was the matching underwear. Silk and lace. Decadent.

Ajax looked down. ‘I like your choice in underwear.'

‘Thank you.'

Literally words she'd never have expected to be exchanged between them, when up to this evening any dialogue had been focused solely on the dense legalese of delicate contract negotiations.

‘May I?'

She wasn't sure what he was asking until he was at her feet, looking up. Another revelation. Ajax Nikolau at her feet. She nodded dumbly.

He tugged the sides of her panties down over her hips and thighs until they were at her feet. She stepped out of them.

But Ajax didn't stand up. He said, ‘Sit on the edge of the bed.'

Erin realised it was right behind her. She fell more than sat on the edge. Ajax put his hands on her knees, pushing them apart. Her heart was thumping so hard she thought it must be audible, but his gaze was fixed on her body, giving her an awareness of sensuality she'd never experienced before.

He stroked the back of his hand over her belly. Her muscles quivered.

‘Your skin is so pale...'

Erin felt breathless. ‘My parents were...are Irish... Or at least...you know...second or third generation.'

Ajax looked at her, a glint in his eye. ‘With a name like Murphy I never would have guessed.'

Her mouth almost fell open. He was joking with her! But now he was looking at her body again, moving between her legs, forcing them further apart. Cupping her breasts.

‘I used to fantasise about this during all those boring moments in the negotiations. You became a distraction.'

Erin struggled to get the words out, ‘You fantasised about...this...?'

He nodded. His thumbs were moving back and forth over her nipples and it was hard to focus on what he was saying—which was annoying, because what he was saying was...unbelievable.

‘I fantasised about what was under your prim suits. The silk shirts, the tight skirts... Do you have any idea how delectable your ass looked in those skirts?'

She shook her head. And then a memory flashed back. She'd been helping herself to some coffee during a break recently, and had bent down to pick up a fallen spoon. When she'd turned around she'd almost dropped her coffee cup. Ajax had been staring at her so broodingly she'd thought she'd done something wrong.

He leant forward now and placed his mouth over one nipple, sucking and then biting gently. Every cell in Erin's body seemed to spasm at once with pleasure. Ajax put his hands around her back, holding her to him as he administered the same torture to the other breast, until they were throbbing peaks of exquisite pain/pleasure.

And then he pulled away. ‘Lie back.'

She did, almost relieved at the respite. But there was to be no respite.

He pushed her thighs apart and she felt his eyes on her. Then his breath feathered on her inner thigh, his lips glancing across her skin as he came closer and closer to where all her nerve-endings were tingling... His breath was hot, but not as hot as his mouth when he pressed his lips and tongue to the core of her body.

Erin had to bite down on her hand to stop screaming, even though she was pretty sure there was no one to hear them. The man was remorseless, exploring her with a thoroughness that made her whole body clench, as if she could possibly stave off the inevitable.

She couldn't. It broke over her in an unstoppable wave. She had nowhere to hide. She'd never been so exposed, and yet she'd never felt more liberated. With her boyfriend, sex had felt self-conscious and a little laborious. Her orgasms hadn't had the power to break her apart. Sex had never felt this earthy or raw.

She was barely aware of Ajax moving, doing something, before he moved her up the bed as effortlessly as if she was a boneless, pliant lump of flesh.

He was on his knees between her spread legs and she looked up to see him rolling protection onto his body. His very hard body... Erin's inner muscles clenched in response.

He looked at her. ‘Are you okay?'

Was she? There wasn't a word invented for what she was right now. All she could do was nod. Stupidly.

He put his hands on her thighs and lifted her up towards him so that his erection was nudging the slick folds of her body.

But then he stopped and looked at her. ‘You're not...innocent?'

Erin shook her head quickly, a little mortified by how desperate she was to feel him inside her. Her voice was rough, breathy. ‘No...but it's been a while.'

‘We'll take it slow.'

Erin silently begged for mercy, because she knew this was going to be—Ohhhh! He thrust into her in one fluid, cataclysmic movement, watching her reaction. Her back arched. He was so big... She felt stretched, just on the border of being uncomfortable, but then he went deeper and she let out a shaky breath.

She'd never felt so...full.

Ajax adjusted his body so that he was almost completely over her. He slowly withdrew and she could feel her muscles massaging his length. His jaw was gritted. Sweat sheened his brow. Erin's own skin was slick with perspiration.

He moved back in again, and she gasped at the sensation as little flutters of pleasure emanated from the centre of her body. He moved rhythmically, in and out, and her tension wound higher with each move of his body.

Desperation pooled low inside her... An urgency. A need for more. She wasn't even aware she'd spoken out loud until Ajax was moving faster, going deeper.

Harder.

Had she said that? But soon he was moving with more force and her head tipped back. There was a force building inside her and she wanted to plead or beg, but she couldn't articulate what she needed.

Ajax threaded his fingers through hers and held her hands above her head. She felt like growling at him. She bit his shoulder. She heard a low huff of a chuckle.

I made him laugh.

But before that could register, he was releasing her hand and cupping her breast, feeding it to his mouth, teeth nipping at her sensitised flesh. Suddenly everything went very still—and then she was falling, tripping, end over end, down into a whirlpool of pleasure so intense that this time she couldn't stop herself from crying out.

She was only barely aware of Ajax's guttural shout as he followed her, his big, powerful body slumping over hers. She put her arms around him without even realising what she was doing.

Ajax stood at the window. Fully dressed. As if his clothes were some kind of armour.

Against what? asked a snide voice.

Against the naked woman behind him on the bed.

She was still asleep. He could see her reflection in the window. The pale skin, the graceful curves. The soft swells of breasts and buttocks and the flare of hips.

The long red-gold hair spread over the pillow. The same hair that trailed across his chest and down as she explored his body with her mouth, before wrapping a hand around him and—

Skata!Enough.

She was just a woman. Like any other.

So why had he vowed not to touch her again after that first night?

Because he'd known, even then, that what they'd shared had been...unprecedented, and that it should not be indulged again because he was not looking for encounters that went beyond being casual.

He'd woken the following morning—late. Unheard of for Ajax, who hadn't slept past dawn for years. He'd felt hungover. As if he'd been drinking. But it hadn't been a hangover from drink—again, not usual for him. It had been a sex hangover.

He'd had his share of sexual experiences—he wasn't a monk—but he'd never had sex like that. He'd had to have her. It had been building for weeks. She'd been distracting him from work. Unheard of.

In the aftermath of that night he'd put their chemistry down to the intense circumstances leading up to the negotiations that had finally put him in full control of Nikolau Industries.

Ajax and his legal team had been all but sequestered for weeks, in order to prevent any leaks. So it was no wonder he'd started to notice Erin Murphy, the newest member of his legal team. Who, he'd been assured upon her appointment, was brilliant.

She hadn't said much at first. Just watched. And listened. She'd been quiet. But something about her had kept drawing his eye. Something about her poise. Her quiet confidence. While others jockeyed for attention or kudos, she didn't.

Then one day, when tensions were high, there'd been a dispute about the wording of part of the contract. In the heated tense silence between arguments she'd posited a totally novel way to word it that had instantly defused the situation.

Ajax had seen in that moment that she'd made a couple of enemies among the more ambitious of the group, but she'd seemed oblivious.

She'd intrigued him in a way that no one else ever had. He'd found himself looking for her every day. Checking she was there. One day she hadn't been there, and her boss had informed Ajax that she was working on another project.

Ajax had told him to bring her back, as he didn't want the contract team broken up before they'd reached agreement. Which hadn't been entirely untrue. But his main motivation had been purely selfish.

The following day she'd been back in the room and their eyes had met. That was the other thing that had intrigued Ajax. She hadn't looked away. Not for a long moment. She hadn't been fazed by his regard. She hadn't sensed his interest and then exploited it, as most women would.

The sense of intrigue had grown into full-blown lust. Until it had been hard to focus or think straight. She wore practically the same thing every day. Pencil skirts. Silk blouses. Jackets. Court shoes. Muted colours. Minimal make-up and jewellery.

But she was provocative. Ajax hadn't been able to put his finger on why and that had irritated the hell out of him. He'd become transfixed by wondering what she would look like if her hair was down. And what was underneath those suits? Was she pale all over?

Her hair was a unique shade of dark strawberry blonde. He'd found himself wondering if she had hair the same colour there, guarding her sex, and that had resulted in a raging erection. In the middle of a meeting. Humiliating.

By the time the deal had been done and they'd celebrated there'd been no way he wasn't going to explore his fascination. He hadn't even been sure if she wanted him too—but as soon as he'd asked her to wait and she'd looked at him with those huge hazel-brown eyes, colour scoring her cheeks a tantalising blush, he'd known that she did want him.

They'd barely lasted a few seconds in the elevator. It had been the hottest, most erotic experience of his life.

But the following morning, when Ajax had woken late, she'd been gone. Long gone. He'd never experienced that before. Most of his lovers were all too keen to cultivate intimacy the next day—which was why he never hosted lovers in his own home. Something he'd apparently forgotten that night.

She hadn't even left a note. And when Ajax had seen her in the office a few days later, she'd looked at him as if nothing had happened. On one level he'd known he should be welcoming her lack of clinginess, but on another level he'd been incensed.

Had she not enjoyed the night? It had blown his mind... That suspicion alone—that she hadn't experienced it the way he had—had made him feel exposed and uncomfortable.

Eventually he'd managed to get her alone and he'd asked her what was going on.

‘What do you mean?' she'd asked.

‘We slept together, Erin.'

‘Yes, I know.'

‘You left the following morning.'

She'd gone a little pink at that reminder. ‘I didn't think you'd appreciate waking up to find me making breakfast.'

The fact that she was right hadn't comforted Ajax. Perversely. And then he'd realised what was going on. He'd cursed himself.

‘This is a play, isn't it?'

She'd frowned. ‘What do you mean?'

‘You're playing coy because you know it'll engage my interest and curiosity.'

She'd looked angry—the first time he'd seen any extreme of emotion on her face. And the fact that he'd noticed had made him feel more prickly.

She'd said tersely, ‘I don't play those kinds of games. I thought I was doing us both a favour...that neither of us wanted a post-mortem. It was just a one-night thing.'

Ajax had been a little speechless. He'd realised he believed her. And that she was speaking sense. Women didn't usually captivate him to the point where he had to discuss anything.

Feeling exposed, he'd said, ‘You're right.'

And so he'd walked away. And brooded for almost a month. But every time he'd seen her she'd seemed utterly serene—as if their night wasn't lingering in her blood and body the way it was in his, no matter how much he tried to deny it. Like a decadent aftertaste of something that you just want one more bite of.

Just a one-night thing...

But what about one more night?

It became an obsession. If he had one more night with her surely it would burn out—whatever this fascination was?

And so he'd said it. Yesterday. After a meeting he'd asked her to stay behind and he'd asked her bluntly, ‘Do you want one more night?'

She'd looked at him, cheeks going pink. Suddenly the veneer of serenity was slipping and Ajax had felt something victorious move through him.

She still wanted him.

‘I...' She'd hesitated. ‘I'm not sure if it's a good idea.'

‘I think it's the only way we can move on.'

It was definitely the only way he could move on.

‘You think one night is all it'll take?' she'd asked.

No.But he ignored the assertion. That was the lust talking. No woman had ever held his interest for longer than one or two nights.

He'd nodded. ‘Absolutely.'

There had been a long moment, as if she was battling some inner demon, but then she'd said, ‘Okay. When and where?'

Ajax liked that about her. Straight up. As she'd said, she didn't play games. And so she'd come up to his apartment last night.

Ajax had planned on them having dinner, but as soon as the elevator doors had closed behind her any attempt to be civilised had disintegrated. They'd been naked in seconds.

They hadn't eaten dinner until midnight—a surprisingly companionable interlude, with Erin dressed in one of his shirts, sitting on opposite sides of the kitchen island, picking at chicken salad and drinking wine.

It had been so unlike anything he'd ever indulged in with a woman he'd found it disconcerting. It had reminded him uncomfortably of the past, and how different it had been with his wife—a woman he'd committed to in the most permanent sense, in spite of the fact that he'd had no feelings for her.

Yet suddenly Ajax had found himself comparing the two experiences and wondering what it might be like to actually like a woman enough to want to spend more time with her...have a relationship.

A sound came from behind Ajax on the bed. He tensed against the inevitable surge of blood. Of awareness. So much for hoping one more night would douse the fire... He feared it had only made it worse. Even more reason, though, to do what he had to now. To say what he had to.

Because one thing was certain after last night: this woman was a danger to him. To everything he believed and had built up.

He wasn't in the market for a relationship and never had been. It wasn't in his DNA and never would be. Not after what had happened. If there ever had been a moment when he might have been persuaded, it had died a long time ago.

He steeled himself and turned around. Erin was up on one elbow, looking deliciously sleepy and well-loved. She had pulled the sheet up to her chest. Ajax lamented it while at the same time welcoming it. He didn't need the distraction. She'd distracted him enough.

‘Morning,' she said, and her voice was husky enough to almost make him change his mind. Almost.

But he was stronger than that. He had to be. He had a duty to his business and he had to transcend personal temptations.

Ajax had had his chance to make a personal life work and it had ended in tragedy. There would be no more personal for him, and it had been a mistake to allow Erin Murphy under his guard again.

If anything, last night just proved that he should have listened to his gut the first time round. The fact that the woman was making him even think of personal temptations and reminding him of what he'd lost was all the proof he needed. She was exposing his weakness and he could not afford to be weak.

Ajax said, ‘We need to talk.'