Mediterranean Tycoons: Reckless & Ruthless: Husband on Trust / The Greek Tycoon's Revenge / Return of the Moralis Wife
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‘I do believe you are blushing, Eloise,’ Marcus teased as he moved her expertly around the floor to the sexy soft tones of a well-known Barry White recording.
‘It’s hot in here.’ She made herself look up at him.
Marcus’s perceptive black eyes ran over her now scarlet face, and deliberately he tightened his arm around her, bringing her into impossibly close contact with his long, lean length. He felt the tremor in her body, and he fought to mask the cynical smile of masculine satisfaction that threatened his oh, so caring features, even as he fought to mask his own body’s instant arousal. He dipped his head and whispered softly in her ear, ‘And getting hotter by the minute.’
He was flirting with her, Eloise knew, and she should have been angry, but the reverse was true. The slender fingers of her hand flexed, curved into his broad shoulder, and clung. His warm breath, his hard body, the softly murmured words all conspired to turn Eloise’s bones to mush; her legs felt wobbly, and her heart felt as if it would burst. It was as if the trauma of the past had been swept away and once again she was the adolescent teenager, totally besotted by the sophisticated overpowering charm of Marcus Kouvaris.
‘Your girlfriend,’ Eloise got out. What was Marcus trying to do to her? And in the middle of the dance floor with Nadine watching. ‘Nadine,’ she choked.
‘Forget Nadine. I did, the moment I saw you again,’ Marcus declared throatily, and observed the deepening colour in her cheeks with a cynical cool. God! The woman could blush on demand, but nothing of his thoughts showed on his chiselled features as his gaze roamed over the perfect oval of her face. ‘Why did you leave me without a word, Eloise?’ he asked softly, his dark eyes looking soulfully down into hers.
‘But I thought you left me.’ In shock at her own reactions, she answered honestly. ‘I waited ten days for you to contact me. Then we had to leave.’ She hadn’t wanted to, but her mother had insisted. ‘But I left you a note with my address and telephone number with the maid.’
‘My father died from the heart attack, and by the time the funeral was over it was two weeks before I could return to the villa. It was empty, no sign of a maid or a letter.’
‘I’m sorry about your father.’ Eloise’s green eyes shaded with compassion.
‘Yes, well, it was a few years ago now.’ He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘But I definitely never received a note from you, Eloise, believe me.’
With his hand stroking her back, and his expression sincere, she believed him. ‘I do. These things happen,’ she mumbled.
‘I guess the time wasn’t right for us then.’ He squeezed her gently and her pulse rate went into overdrive. ‘But the past is past and I am delighted to have met you again. I often wondered what happened to you,’ he said smoothly.
Wondered? Some understatement; a bitter smile tightened Marcus’s mouth. When he’d returned to the island and found her gone, he’d ruefully conceded she was the one that got away and tried to dismiss her from his mind. He didn’t chase after women, they chased after him, but she had haunted his dreams for years. It was only after Theo’s death and he was left with settling the man’s affairs that he had hired someone to find her sister Chloe, and only recently he had discovered Eloise Smith was the daughter, not the sister, of the devious late Chloe Baker. Seeing her with Ted had finally cured him of the romantic picture he’d carried in his head of an innocent young girl forced by her wicked mother into fraud! The gods must be laughing, he thought irreverently. But he allowed none of his thoughts to show. He eased her slightly away from him.
‘I would love to see you again and catch up with what you are doing.’ He gazed down into her beautiful face. ‘Have dinner with me tomorrow night?’ He held her closer, one long leg easing between hers, as he moved her skilfully in a turn. ‘Please.’ He watched the green eyes widen with a mixture of fear and excitement, and almost laughed out loud. She had good reason to fear him, the devious little witch—but her sort could never resist a challenge, he knew; he’d met enough in his time.
‘Will your girlfriend mind?’ The friction of his hard thigh against hers, even through the thickness of their clothes, was enough to send every nerve in her body hay-wire and Eloise said the first thing that entered her bemused brain.
‘Not at all. Nadine and I understand each other; we are casual friends, nothing more.’ And, easing her slightly away from him, he added, ‘But I’m forgetting your boyfriend, Ted.’ This time, Marcus could not keep the hard edge of cynicism out of his tone. ‘Will he object to you dating another man?’
Eased from the close contact with his lithe body, Eloise did not know whether to be relieved or aggrieved. He aroused a host of sensations she had never thought she would experience again and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Relief won.
‘You’re kidding.’ She chuckled. ‘Ted is a charming man but he isn’t my boyfriend. Tonight is a business dinner, nothing more.’ That Marcus could imagine even for a moment that she would go out with a man old enough to be her father was ludicrous, and consequently she told him the truth.
‘In that case, give me your telephone number.’ His eyes narrowed on her laughing face and his large body tensed as he let her go. Was she up to her late mother’s tricks, and so sure of success that she had readily admitted her involvement with Ted Charlton was simply business? Marcus needed to know more, but this wasn’t the right time to question her, with Nadine waiting at the table for him and Ted watching Eloise like a drooling fool.
Eloise felt the sudden tension in his body, just before his arm fell from her waist; her puzzled gaze shot to his but his expression was bland. Then she realised it was because the music had stopped.
‘Your number, Eloise?’ Marcus murmured as, with one hand lightly in the centre of her back, he urged her towards the table.
Still in a state of shock at the unexpected meeting and her own response to Marcus, Eloise reeled off her number. ‘You will never remember it,’ and added, ‘but our company, KHE, designer jewellery, is in the directory.’
She did not see his strong handsome face harden into disgust at the mention of designer jewellery, or the flare of white-hot fury in his dark eyes, as he stood behind her and pulled out her chair. By the time she was seated and she had recovered some slight control over her racing pulse and scattered nerves enough to join in the general conversation, and finally look at Marcus, he was all urbane charm and about to leave with Nadine.
‘A very impressive man,’ Ted said as Eloise watched Marcus and Nadine stroll off to where their table awaited them. The maître d’ stood hovering around the pair like a mother hen. But then, a man of Marcus Kouvaris’s power and wealth commanded that kind of attention wherever he went, Eloise thought wryly.
‘Yes, Ted.’ She sighed and turned her attention back to Ted. ‘Nadine is a lucky woman.’
‘No, you’re wrong there, Eloise. She hasn’t a hope in hell of catching Kouvaris. But you—you watch out. Take it from a man who knows his own sex. I saw the way Kouvaris looked, and danced with you. But I have heard rumours about his womanising, and you are far too nice a lady for a man of his reputation.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ Eloise said softly. ‘But I don’t think you need worry.’ And, with a swift glance at the other couple, the black head touching the blonde, she grinned ruefully back at Ted. ‘You’re right, he’s way out of my league.’
They finished off their dinner with coffee, and Ted persuaded Eloise to make a night of it, so they stayed to watch the late-night cabaret, and dance. It was a fun evening, and Eloise was yawning widely by the time Ted took her home in a taxi.
At the door of the town house where Eloise lived and worked, Ted smiled teasingly down at her. ‘I won’t come in, before you ask, but thank you for a lovely evening, Eloise, and you can tell your partners they have nothing to worry about. I will invest. I’ll be in touch with Harry in the morning to do the deal. Okay?’ Planting a brief kiss on her cheek, he said, ‘Good night.’
Letting herself into the elegant entrance hall, Eloise ran lightly up the staircase, and stopped at the first floor. She glanced at her wristwatch, and grimaced. Three a.m. It was far too late to call on Katy and Harry now and tell them the good news and she turned to mount the next flight of stairs.
Strictly speaking, the house was Eloise’s, but it was also the biggest asset of the company. The basement was the work room, the ground floor the showroom and offices, the first floor was Katy and Harry’s apartment, the second floor Eloise’s, and the attic apartment was rented by a gay couple.
Julian and Jeff were two beautiful young men. Julian earned his living as a freelance photographer and had made up a fantastic catalogue for KHE jewellery, and also talked quite a few models into wearing it, and that had been instrumental in getting the firm noticed and into several of the glossy magazines. Jeff worked in the showroom of KHE and was great at selling. The female customers adored him, and the male customers, while taking his advice, were not threatened by his beauty. For Eloise it was the ideal set-up; she loved the house and felt perfectly safe.
‘Is that you, Eloise?’ A stage whisper broke into Eloise’s thoughts and, swinging around, she ran lightly back down the stairs and straight into the arms of Harry.
‘Break out the champagne, folks. Ted is going to come in with us,’ she said as Harry swung her around and into the open door of their apartment where Katy was waiting looking, thankfully, very well, if rather round.
‘You’re sure?’ Katy grasped her arm and pulled her into the sitting room. ‘Tell all.’
Half an hour later her two friends had the whole story.
‘So…’ Katy looked mischievous but beautiful with her black curly hair and big brown eyes; she fixed Eloise with a speculative glance. ‘We can take it the business will expand, much like my waistline. But what about this Mr Kouvaris? Wasn’t that the name of the chap you met, and then left you on that holiday with your mother?’
Immediately on the defensive, Eloise said, ‘Marcus didn’t leave me—he was called away because his father was ill, and apparently the old man died.’ It was strange to be saying his name out loud after five years of trying to forget it, and stupidly she could feel herself blushing. ‘It was no big deal and look, it’s four o’clock in the morning. We’ll talk tomorrow.’
She was still trying to convince herself of the fact ages later lying in her queen-sized bed, unable to sleep. She did not want to take a sleeping tablet the doctor had prescribed. She hadn’t used them in years, and simply seeing Marcus Kouvaris again was not going to drive her into taking one.
CHAPTER TWO
INSTEAD she practised her relaxation exercises, turned on her back, and let her mind roam freely back to her holiday in Greece.
Eloise had been carrying a tray of drinks out on to the terrace when she had first seen Marcus. He was standing next to her mother and Theo Toumbis by the edge of the swimming pool, laughing at something her mother had said. Eloise had nearly dropped the tray, such was the instant effect of his sheer male beauty on her teenage heart. Dressed casually in white shorts, and a shirt open down the front revealing his muscular chest with a sprinkling of black body hair, and long legs glazed in gold by the afternoon sun, the man looked like the reincarnation of a Greek god to Eloise’s naïve eyes and she had stood transfixed simply staring at him.
‘Stop loitering, sis, we are dying of thirst here.’ Her mother’s command had the ten or so people around the pool turning to look at her, including Marcus.
Eloise blushed scarlet, and for a second Marcus’s eyes met hers, before she dropped her head and stepped forward.
Miraculously he appeared at her side. ‘Here, let me take that. A beautiful young girl like you should be waited on, not the other way around.’ And that was how it had started…
He’d introduced himself as Theo’s nephew and had encouraged her to strip off the long cotton shift that concealed her white skinned, bikini-clad body, and join him in the pool. Marcus in his swimming trunks was enough to make any woman weak at the knees, and Eloise had been no exception. He had talked and teased and flirted with her and by the end of the evening he knew she was an unattached nineteen-year-old student on holiday abroad for the first time in her life with her sister Chloe who had rented the villa.
Eloise had hated lying to him, but her mother had insisted no one should know they were mother and daughter, and it had seemed a small price to pay to spend time with her mother. Eloise knew her mother loved her in her own way; she had proved it when after the funeral of her parents Chloe had not even minded that they had left all they owned to Eloise, including the house. Eloise had felt terrible, and it had taken all her powers of persuasion to get her mum to at least take the money from the sale of the house. Even so her mum suggested she set up a joint account and they could share the proceeds. Eloise happily agreed, but never touched the account until after her mother’s death.
Stirring restlessly on the bed, Eloise ran the tip of her tongue over her full lips; it seemed like only yesterday she had felt the touch of Marcus’s lips on hers for the first time. Sighing, she rolled over on her stomach and buried her head in the pillow, the memories coming thick and fast.
Before Marcus had finally left, well after midnight, he’d gathered Eloise gently into his arms and kissed her, and from that moment she knew she was in love.
At ten the next morning Marcus had turned up in an open-topped sports car, and whisked her away to the other side of the island.
‘Come on, sweetheart.’ Marcus stopped the car only a few feet away from the edge of a cliff, stepped out and was holding open the passenger door with one hand and a picnic basket in the other with a blanket over his arm. ‘We’re going to have a picnic.’
‘Here?’ Eloise glanced around the rocky outcrop not more that a yard square.
‘Trust me.’ Marcus grinned, and she did.
The steps were cut deep into an almost vertical cliff, with an old rope strung along the cliff face as a handrail. It was the scariest walk Eloise had ever experienced in her young life, and when she finally stepped onto the smooth sand at the base of the cliff her legs were trembling. Marcus dropped the hamper and the blanket on the white sand and gathered her into his arms.
‘All right?’
Fighting to steady her erratic breathing, whether it was from the descent or the sensation of being enfolded against his hard, lean, scantily-clad body, she did not know, Eloise looked around and then up into his grinning face. ‘It’s perfect.’ It was a totally secluded horseshoe shape of sand that led down to sparkling blue sea.
After a swim, they shared a meal of cold meat, chicken, salad, and fresh crusty bread, washed down with champagne.
‘You’re spoiling me.’ Eloise sighed, lying back on the blanket, replete and perfectly happy.
Propped up on one elbow, Marcus’s dark eyes sparkled with amusement and something more as they met hers. Suddenly the clear summer air shimmered with tension. ‘This is nothing to what I would like to do for you,’ he murmured huskily, the index finger of one hand gently outlining her lips. ‘For your mouth,’ he husked; the finger trailed down her throat, and lingered for a moment on the pulse beating madly there. ‘For your elegant neck,’ and then lower to the valley between her breasts. ‘For your luscious breasts.’ His voice thickened.
Eloise felt as though she was touched by fire, every nerve-end in her body tingling with vibrant life. She linked her hands around his neck, her fingers tangling in the silky black hair of his head. Marcus raised his head and moved so he was straddling her trembling body, and then gently brought his mouth down on hers, the tip of his tongue outlining her lips and, as her mouth opened, plunging deep into the moist sweet depths. Electric excitement thrilled through her, the rub of his thighs against the outside of her hips incredibly erotic, and as his mouth followed the path his finger had so recently taken, her excitement built higher and higher.
He buried his head in the valley between her breasts, and somehow her bikini top was no more. She trembled violently as he murmured something huskily in Greek, before his tongue licked across the crown of her breast, and very gently suckled the rosy tip in his mouth.
A lightning flare of response struck her without warning, and her body arched up against his hard, lean frame, brushing his groin in helpless response.
Marcus lifted his head, and gazed down into her dazed green eyes. ‘You like that,’ he husked. With one hand he stroked down from her breast to the tiny waist to lay flat on her belly. ‘Tell me what more you like, my Eloise?’ he demanded throatily, while his mouth found her other breast and repeated the sensual assault.
Eloise had never experienced anything like it before, yet somehow it all seemed natural—Marcus, the kiss, his touch. Tremor after tremor coursed through her veins as his other hand swept down the length of her body, from hips to thigh to calf and back up. His touch scorched her sensitive skin like a brand, and her breasts ached with a pleasure that she did not know existed, creating a need for more and more of the miraculous sensations.
His long fingers effortlessly slipped under the last scrap of material covering her nakedness, and suddenly Eloise tensed in innocent fear of where her wild emotions were leading. Her hands fell to push against his chest. ‘No, no.’ He was going too far, too fast…
Marcus jerked his head back, and her hands dropped to her sides. ‘No. You say “No,” but you want me.’ His keen gaze raked the full length of her near-naked body, the pointed tips of her breasts, and then back to her eyes.
She stared up at him, her lips parted to speak. She did want him, but… Her green eyes huge, she glanced past him to the sea.
‘You’re not a tease, I hope?’ his deep voice demanded hardily and she glanced back at him. ‘I abhor women who lead a man on, lie with their body.’
‘No. No.’ Eloise could not bear him to look at her so cynically. ‘It’s just, I… Well, I haven’t.’ She could feel her skin getting even hotter but it was not with excitement, it was with embarrassment. He was a twenty-nine-year-old sophisticated man of the world; how could she tell him…? ‘I’ve never, I haven’t—’ She lowered her lashes over her too revealing eyes, and swallowed hard. ‘I’m a virgin.’
‘A virgin?’ he exclaimed. ‘You’re not protected.’ His black eyes widened in stunned amazement, and then narrowed at her guileless face, the blush that suffused her skin, and a slow smile parted his sensual mouth. ‘Ah,’ he murmured and from that moment on his whole attitude changed.
Marcus was transformed from a sophisticated sensual male on the make, into a tender, caring companion. The rest of the day he treated her like some rare species of the female sex, though he could not stop touching her. But his touch was light on her silken skin, the few kisses they shared undemanding. When they parted later that night with a promise to meet again the next day, the kiss he pressed on her soft lips started as a gentle good night and quickly developed into a passionate embrace. But with iron self-control he ended it with a curse in Greek and a softly mouthed promise. ‘I am going to make everything perfect for you, Eloise.’
Eloise went to bed that night with a head full of dreams of love and marriage, and the next morning Marcus arrived and told her his father was ill, he had to leave, she had been sad, but not unduly worried, as he’d promised to return.
Yawning wildly, Eloise rolled over onto her side and burrowing deeper under the duvet. March in England was cold. Not like Greece, she thought wryly. But then her Greek dream had ended long ago and she would do better to forget the memories, and get on with her life today. She would go out to dinner with Marcus for old times’ sake, but that was all it would be, all it could be, now…
‘We’ve done it, girls.’ Harry came dashing into the basement workroom, with Jeff hot on his heels, waving a bottle of champagne, and a grinning Ted Charlton bringing up the rear.
Eloise looked up from her drawing board and Katy put the soldering tool down carefully on the workbench and slowly stood up, her eyes flicking from Harry to the older man.
‘You’re sure, Mr Charlton? Aren’t you supposed to be looking after the showroom, Jeff?’ she said sternly, but her brown eyes were alight with excitement.
‘I’m sure, lady.’ Ted chuckled. ‘So sure I have persuaded your husband and Jeff here to close the showroom and let me take everyone out to lunch to celebrate.’
Eloise said nothing but the grin on her face said it all.
Five minutes later, the bottle of champagne was opened and the five all raised their glasses. ‘To KHE, Paris. Thanks to you, Ted.’ Harry made the toast.
Over lunch the deal was discussed. The money Ted was investing would be used for the creation of a KHE boutique in Paris. Better still, Ted actually knew of a property for lease on the Rue St Honoré, one of the most fashionable streets in Paris, and he reckoned if Harry got in quick it could be theirs. Harry had already made the booking for his flight to France the next day and a meeting with the owners, and he had the cheque for the first instalment of Ted’s financing in his pocket.
The entry phone rang, and Eloise cast a last hasty look at her reflection in the mirrored door of the wardrobe. She grimaced slightly. She had tried for the sophisticated look, and had swept up her hair in a French pleat, and apart from the black skirt she had worn last night, she was wearing the only thing she possessed that was not casual: the suit she had bought for Katy’s wedding. A fine wool jade green suit in a classic style, the jacket short and with a matching camisole underneath, the straight skirt ending an inch above her knees, and kitten-heeled black pumps on her feet. Conservative, she told herself, except for the intricately set silver and amber pendant around her neck and the matching amber earrings, both her own designs.
Katy had been right last night when she’d made Eloise borrow the gold camisole. It was way past time Eloise updated her wardrobe. But, working behind the scenes in the jewellery business designing and manufacturing, her wardrobe consisted of jeans and sweaters, and a few voluminous Indian cotton caftans, for when the weather was hot. But it was too late to worry about the state of her wardrobe now and, snatching up her purse, she dashed from the bedroom through to the sitting room to the door of her apartment, just as someone knocked on the door.
Surprised for a second, she hesitated and the knock sounded again, and she opened the door.
Marcus was leaning negligently against the doorframe, wearing a superbly elegant dark blue suit, and looking every inch the incredibly attractive, sophisticated male of her dreams.
Heat prickled her skin. ‘How did you get in?’ she demanded. It was not the opening she had planned, it sounded rather aggressive even to her own ears.
‘Hello to you, too.’ A sardonic brow arched. ‘Shall I go out and start again.’
‘N-no, of course not.’ Eloise stammered, badly shaken by her instant response to his powerful presence.
‘Relax, Eloise, your friend Harry downstairs opened the front door.’ He smiled.
His smile dazzled her and, with his hand at her elbow supporting her, Eloise felt vaguely protected and actually did manage to relax slightly. ‘Harry and Katy are my business partners,’ she offered.
‘He sounded more like your guardian.’ Marcus remarked with a wry twist of his lips. ‘He managed, in the space of less than a minute, to ask me who I was, where I was taking you, and what time I intended bringing you back.’