don’t need a babysitter. I’m just going to have a bath, wash off the blood—that sort of thing. Go and finish your date.’
‘Since you seem determined to launch yourself from one disaster to another, you need supervision.’
Polly laughed and then wished she hadn’t because the movement amplified the pain in her head. Supervision? She hadn’t been supervised since she was a toddler. Right from the moment she could walk, her father had expected her to sort her own problems out.
Find a way, Pol.
‘Unless you’re planning on lying down on the bed next to me, I don’t see how you can supervise me.’ As his eyes met hers, she wished she hadn’t used those words. It was uncomfortably easy to think about sex around this man and she wasn’t used to thinking about sex. ‘I’m going to be fine. I just need painkillers and sleep, that’s all. I don’t need company for that.’
But the comfort she felt at knowing he was going to be close by shook her. Why did it matter? She’d never been a dependent sort of person. Just because the man had broad shoulders, it didn’t mean she had to lean on him.
Seriously unnerved, Polly was relieved when the elevator doors finally slid open and she could put some space between them.
Like everyone, she’d heard whispers and speculation about the duplex apartment that graced the top of the building. Everyone had. When the Doukakis Tower had been under construction there had been hushed talk of the penthousewith its three-hundred-and-sixty-degree views of London, roof garden and glass enclosed heated swimming pool. None of the rumours had prepared her for reality.
‘Oh—’ Stunned into silence, she stared at the sparkling cityscape that stretched in every direction. The architect had created a space to maximise the view and yet had managed to merge contemporary with homely by dividing that space into distinct living areas.
Polly had never seen so much glass in one place. ‘Well—no one is ever going to suffer from claustrophobia here,’ she said faintly. ‘It’s amazing. Seriously cool.’
‘I like the feeling of space. My villa in Greece is modern. I like light.’
It was the first personal thing he’d said to her and Polly stood awkwardly, realising just how useless she was at making small talk with men. ‘You have a villa in Greece? Lucky you.’
God, what a lame response.
No wonder he thought she was a complete idiot. He was obviously regretting playing nursemaid instead of continuing his date with someone who was no doubt a master at sophisticated conversation.
Chewing her lip, she decided to pretend he was a client. She never felt tongue-tied or awkward talking to clients, did she?
Damon gestured to the end of the room where the space narrowed. ‘You can use the guest suite at the end of this floor. I’ll show you where.’
Polly took one look at the thick white rugs covering the polished wooden floor and automatically tugged off her boots. Padding after him, she felt like a stray dog that had wandered into someone’s home. ‘It really is incredible.’ Gazing longingly at the deep, luxurious sofas, she followed him through the apartment. Despite the glass and the space it was surprisingly cosy and she felt a stab of envy. This man didn’t lie awake at night worrying about how to keep his company afloat andprotect people’s jobs. He was so phenomenally successful his only worry about money would be how to count it all.
She caught a glimpse of a futuristic-looking kitchen and he intercepted her look.
‘Are you hungry? I can ask my chef to make you something.’
‘Not unless he does pasta with painkiller sauce. Honestly, I couldn’t eat. But thanks for the thought.’ For the first time Polly noticed the spiral staircase rising from the centre of the room. Cleverly lit by tiny spotlights, it looked like something from a fairy tale. She’d never considered herself remotely romantic, but suddenly she was wondering if he’d ever carried a woman
‘Since you seem determined to launch yourself from one disaster to another, you need supervision.’
Polly laughed and then wished she hadn’t because the movement amplified the pain in her head. Supervision? She hadn’t been supervised since she was a toddler. Right from the moment she could walk, her father had expected her to sort her own problems out.
Find a way, Pol.
‘Unless you’re planning on lying down on the bed next to me, I don’t see how you can supervise me.’ As his eyes met hers, she wished she hadn’t used those words. It was uncomfortably easy to think about sex around this man and she wasn’t used to thinking about sex. ‘I’m going to be fine. I just need painkillers and sleep, that’s all. I don’t need company for that.’
But the comfort she felt at knowing he was going to be close by shook her. Why did it matter? She’d never been a dependent sort of person. Just because the man had broad shoulders, it didn’t mean she had to lean on him.
Seriously unnerved, Polly was relieved when the elevator doors finally slid open and she could put some space between them.
Like everyone, she’d heard whispers and speculation about the duplex apartment that graced the top of the building. Everyone had. When the Doukakis Tower had been under construction there had been hushed talk of the penthousewith its three-hundred-and-sixty-degree views of London, roof garden and glass enclosed heated swimming pool. None of the rumours had prepared her for reality.
‘Oh—’ Stunned into silence, she stared at the sparkling cityscape that stretched in every direction. The architect had created a space to maximise the view and yet had managed to merge contemporary with homely by dividing that space into distinct living areas.
Polly had never seen so much glass in one place. ‘Well—no one is ever going to suffer from claustrophobia here,’ she said faintly. ‘It’s amazing. Seriously cool.’
‘I like the feeling of space. My villa in Greece is modern. I like light.’
It was the first personal thing he’d said to her and Polly stood awkwardly, realising just how useless she was at making small talk with men. ‘You have a villa in Greece? Lucky you.’
God, what a lame response.
No wonder he thought she was a complete idiot. He was obviously regretting playing nursemaid instead of continuing his date with someone who was no doubt a master at sophisticated conversation.
Chewing her lip, she decided to pretend he was a client. She never felt tongue-tied or awkward talking to clients, did she?
Damon gestured to the end of the room where the space narrowed. ‘You can use the guest suite at the end of this floor. I’ll show you where.’
Polly took one look at the thick white rugs covering the polished wooden floor and automatically tugged off her boots. Padding after him, she felt like a stray dog that had wandered into someone’s home. ‘It really is incredible.’ Gazing longingly at the deep, luxurious sofas, she followed him through the apartment. Despite the glass and the space it was surprisingly cosy and she felt a stab of envy. This man didn’t lie awake at night worrying about how to keep his company afloat andprotect people’s jobs. He was so phenomenally successful his only worry about money would be how to count it all.
She caught a glimpse of a futuristic-looking kitchen and he intercepted her look.
‘Are you hungry? I can ask my chef to make you something.’
‘Not unless he does pasta with painkiller sauce. Honestly, I couldn’t eat. But thanks for the thought.’ For the first time Polly noticed the spiral staircase rising from the centre of the room. Cleverly lit by tiny spotlights, it looked like something from a fairy tale. She’d never considered herself remotely romantic, but suddenly she was wondering if he’d ever carried a woman
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