The Millionaire's Virgin

Mills & Boon is proud to present a fabulous collection of fantastic novels by bestselling, much loved author

ANNE MATHER

Anne has a stellar record of achievement within the

publishing industry, having written over one hundred

and sixty books, with worldwide sales of more than

forty-eight MILLION copies in multiple languages.

This amazing collection of classic stories offers a chance

for readers to recapture the pleasure Anne’s powerful,

passionate writing has given.

We are sure you will love them all!

I’ve always wanted to write—which is not to say I’ve always wanted to be a professional writer. On the contrary, for years I only wrote for my own pleasure and it wasn’t until my husband suggested sending one of my stories to a publisher that we put several publishers’ names into a hat and pulled one out. The rest, as they say, is history. And now, one hundred and sixty-two books later, I’m literally—excuse the pun—staggered by what’s happened.

I had written all through my infant and junior years and on into my teens, the stories changing from children’s adventures to torrid gypsy passions. My mother used to gather these manuscripts up from time to time, when my bedroom became too untidy, and dispose of them! In those days, I used not to finish any of the stories and Caroline, my first published novel, was the first I’d ever completed. I was newly married then and my daughter was just a baby, and it was quite a job juggling my household chores and scribbling away in exercise books every chance I got. Not very professional, as you can imagine, but that’s the way it was.

These days, I have a bit more time to devote to my work, but that first love of writing has never changed. I can’t imagine not having a current book on the typewriter—yes, it’s my husband who transcribes everything on to the computer. He’s my partner in both life and work and I depend on his good sense more than I care to admit.

We have two grown-up children, a son and a daughter, and two almost grown-up grandchildren, Abi and Ben. My e-mail address is mystic-am@msn.com and I’d be happy to hear from any of my wonderful readers.

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CONTENTS

Cover

About the Author

TITLE PAGE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

EPILOGUE

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

THE man sitting at the table wasn’t Martin Price.

Paige’s stomach hollowed and she glanced blankly at the waiter who was escorting her across the restaurant. There’d been some mistake. Martin’s shoulders weren’t as broad, his skin wasn’t as dark, and his fair curls bore no resemblance to the thick black hair that erupted in rough splendour over the rim of white collar that was visible above his charcoal tailoring.

She was about to make her protest when the man rose to his feet and turned to face her. ‘Ah, Paige,’ he said, as her legs threatened to slip out from under her. ‘How good of you to come.’

Paige didn’t know what to do; what to say. There had been a mistake. She saw that now. And she’d made it. She’d believed she was coming here to meet her ex-fiancé, but it was obvious that that had only been a ploy on someone’s part to get her here. She turned frantically to the waiter but he was already walking away, and although she badly wanted to follow him people were watching them and she was too much of a coward to make a scene.

‘Won’t you sit down?’ he said, indicating the chair opposite. His lips parted in a thin smile. ‘It’s good to see you again.’

Paige hesitated. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘You will.’ His dark eyes narrowed between lashes that had always been absurdly long for a man. ‘If you’ll give me a few minutes of your time.’

‘Why should I?’ Paige was panicking now, but she couldn’t help it.

‘Oh, I think you owe me considerably more than that,’ he remarked, his expression hardening. ‘Please—’ It was hardly a request. ‘Sit down.’

Paige drew in a breath but unless she wanted to embarrass herself she didn’t have a lot of choice. Still, it was with evident reluctance that she subsided into the chair across the table, wrapping her hands about the purse in her lap as if it provided a lifeline.

‘Good.’ Having succeeded in his objective, he resumed his seat just as the wine waiter arrived at his elbow. ‘Now, what will you have to drink?’

He was drinking wine, she noticed. Red wine that reflected the light from the chandeliers above their heads and gave off a ruby brilliance. She was tempted to join him; she loved wine and he knew it, but she had no intention of giving him any advantage and in her present condition it would probably go straight to her head.

‘Um—just mineral water, please,’ she murmured, after a moment, addressing herself to the waiter, and he gave her a polite little bow before going to attend to her order.

‘Mineral water?’ His tone was mocking now but Paige refused to be intimidated.

‘What do you want, Nikolas?’ she asked, avoiding his sardonic gaze. She didn’t want to look into his eyes again, didn’t want to feel the sudden rush of sexual awareness she’d felt when she’d first realised who he was. ‘Where’s Martin?’

‘He’s not coming.’ He said the words without apology. ‘Ah, here’s your—water.’

Paige gazed at him now, ignoring the waiter completely. ‘What do you mean, he’s not coming?’ she demanded. ‘I think you’d better tell me what’s going on.’

‘Do you?’ His tone was ironic. ‘I gather he didn’t explain the situation when he spoke to you.’

‘No.’

Paige swallowed. She refused to admit that it was Martin’s secretary who had contacted her and arranged this meeting. She’d been so relieved to hear from him again, she hadn’t questioned why, after breaking their engagement, he’d suddenly decided to invite her to lunch at one of London’s most exclusive restaurants. The fact that it used to be their favourite restaurant had persuaded her that Martin had had second thoughts and wanted to start seeing her again.

What a fool she’d been.

‘So you have no idea why I invited you here?’

‘Haven’t I just said so?’ Paige was abrupt, but she couldn’t help it. This was just another occasion when nothing turned out as she’d expected.

‘Tell me,’ murmured Nikolas after a moment, his low, attractive voice barely exhibiting any trace of an accent, ‘how long were you and Price—what shall I say?—’ he frowned ‘—together?’

Paige stiffened. ‘What business is that of yours?’

‘Humour me.’

‘Why should I?’

‘Well…’ He paused. ‘If we are to have any kind of a working relationship—’

‘A what!’

She interrupted him then, getting half out of her chair before his hand on her forearm pressed her down again into her seat. He did it so effortlessly, she thought, rubbing her arm when he released her, glaring at him with resentful eyes. All trace of sexual awareness was swamped now by the very real feelings of outrage that were gripping her.

‘Calm down,’ he said mildly. ‘You are looking for a job, aren’t you?’ He regarded her dispassionately. ‘I may have one to offer.’

‘No, thanks.’

Paige looked away from his dark-skinned face, wondering how Martin could have done this to her. She’d thought he’d loved her. But she’d been wrong about that, too. Wrong about everything.

‘Don’t be too hasty,’ Nikolas murmured now. He pushed the glass of water towards her. ‘Drink. You’ll feel better after some refreshment.’

‘I don’t want anything.’ Paige realised she was behaving like a petulant child, but events were moving too fast for her to keep any kind of control over her emotions. She straightened her spine. ‘I’d just like to know how Martin knew that you—that you and I—had—had—’

‘Been lovers?’ Nikolas suggested softly, and despite herself her face suffused with colour.

‘Known one another,’ she amended tersely. ‘We were never lovers.’

‘No.’ He conceded the point with a certain amount of regret. ‘Or you would not have done what you did, ohi?’

‘I did nothing,’ she insisted. ‘Nothing wrong, that is.’ Then, realising she was getting into deep waters, she added, ‘How did Martin know we knew one another?’

‘He didn’t.’ Nikolas was careless. ‘As far as your—fiancé is concerned, we had never met before today.’

‘He’s not my fiancé.’ Paige could feel her jaw quivering and hurriedly pressed her lips together to control it. ‘I suppose you thought it was amusing, deceiving him like that?’

‘I deceived no one.’ His harsh features mirrored a momentary displeasure. ‘Your Martin is not the most perceptive of men.’

‘He’s not my Martin.’

‘No.’ An air of satisfaction surrounded him at this admission. ‘He told me that also.’

‘He told you—’ Paige’s lips parted in dismay. ‘He discussed our relationship with you.’

‘Let us say that when your name entered the conversation I—persuaded him to confide in me,’ declared Nikolas smugly. ‘I can be very persuasive, as I’m sure you remember.’

Paige shook her head, refusing to explore that particular time bomb. ‘What did he tell you? How do you know him?’

‘Ah.’ Nikolas relaxed back in his chair and Paige was reminded of a sleek predator that, having successfully subdued its prey, was now prepared to play with it. ‘I happened to be looking for a new financial advisor and the firm of Seton Ross appeared to have an excellent reputation.’

‘So you met quite by chance?’

‘How else?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t believe you.’

‘Why not?’ He adopted an air of injured innocence.

‘Because if Nikolas Petronides approached a firm like Seton Ross he wouldn’t be put off with one of the minor associates. Either Neville Ross or Andrew Dawes would have dealt with you personally.’

‘Indeed.’ Nikolas smiled. ‘It pleases me that you would think I warrant a more expert evaluation than your—friend was able to offer. It proves that you have not been entirely deceived by his rather obvious charms. Be thankful he broke the engagement, aghapita. You can do much better, I am sure.’

Paige fumed. ‘Don’t patronise me.’

‘Was I doing that?’ Nikolas moved his silk-clad shoulders in a dismissive gesture. ‘I am sorry.’

She was sure he was nothing of the kind, but she waited impatiently for him to go on. When he didn’t, she said shortly, ‘I’d still like to know how you came to discuss my—situation.’

‘Yes…’ He was evidently in no hurry to satisfy her curiosity. ‘Well, let me see, how did the conversation go? I think we were discussing the recent fall in the stock market and how even recognised firms of stockbrokers were not immune from collapse. Naturally, Tennants was mentioned—’

‘Naturally!’

‘It was, after all, one of the most disastrous falls of the decade, was it not? And your father’s untimely death was a real tragedy.’ There was nothing but compassion in his face as he continued, ‘Please: I cannot tell you how sorry I am; how much sympathy I feel for you and your sister.’

‘We don’t need your sympathy,’ retorted Paige tightly, but even though it was months since her father had suffered the massive stroke that had ended his life she still felt totally bereft.

‘Etsi ki alios, it is sincere,’ Nikolas assured her. ‘Although I had no love for the man, I would not wish what happened to him on my worst enemy.’

Paige regarded him coldly. ‘So you decided to offer me a job,’ she said scornfully. ‘How kind!’

‘Do not be bitter, Paige.’ Nikolas sighed. ‘It does not become you. Just because your fiancé has deserted you, do not—’

‘How dare you?’

Once again, Paige attempted to push her chair away from the table, but this time the waiter thwarted her. Misunderstanding, he assumed she was trying to pull her chair closer to the table, and he assisted her in doing just that before presenting her with the menu.

‘I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order,’ he said politely, and Paige was obliged to stay where she was, at least until he had returned to his station.

But as soon as he’d moved away she fixed Nikolas with a furious stare. ‘How dare you?’ she demanded again. ‘How dare you discuss my private life with—with—?’

‘With the man you’d hoped to share your life with?’ suggested her companion drily. ‘Perhaps you should be asking him why he’s telling all and sundry that the Tennant sisters are virtually penniless.’

‘Oh, I intend to.’

‘What?’ Nikolas’s brows rose sardonically. ‘And give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he’s hurt you? Think again, Paige. As I said before, he’s not worth it.’

‘And you are?’ She was contemptuous.

‘Let us say, I have reason to enjoy your humiliation. He does not.’

Paige glanced about her. ‘And that’s what this is all about? Humiliation?’

‘No.’

‘Oh, please…’ She gazed at him disbelievingly. ‘At least have the decency to tell me the truth.’

‘I will. If you’ll let me.’ He shrugged. ‘Have lunch with me. That is why you came, after all.’

‘To have lunch with Martin,’ she corrected him tersely, and then, remembering what her ex-fiancé had done, she realised how pathetic that sounded. She hesitated. ‘Why should I?’

‘Because you’re here; because you’re curious.’ His thin lips twitched. ‘Let me tell you why I let Price arrange this meeting.’

Paige took a considering breath but once again the waiter made the decision for her. Returning to take their order, he regarded them both with polite, enquiring eyes, and Nikolas turned somewhat impatiently to his own menu.

‘Shall I order for us both?’ he enquired, and because Paige was too bemused to argue with him she gave an unwilling nod. ‘We’ll have the avocado mousse and the grilled salmon,’ he told the waiter smoothly. ‘It is fresh salmon, not farmed?’ After gaining the waiter’s reassurance, he said, ‘Thank you.’

Paige had forgotten how efficient Nikolas was in any situation. How easily he could make a decision and act on it without resorting to discussion. He could decide what he was going to eat in less time than it had taken Martin to open a menu, and he had an effortless air of command that would persuade even the hardiest maître d’ to do his bidding.

The waiter collected the menus and went away and they were alone again. But not for long. The wine waiter returned with his list, but this time Nikolas was ready for him. ‘A bottle of the ’97 Chardonnay,’ he said, waving the list away. ‘That’s all.’

Paige breathed deeply, trying desperately to achieve even a little of his composure, but it was almost impossible. Despite her frustration at being put in such a position, she couldn’t deny a certain exhilaration at this unexpected turn of events. It was a long time since anything had inspired her to the kind of emotional upheaval Nikolas had so effortlessly created. And, while she still resented the way both he and Martin had treated her, her eyes were continually drawn to the lean brown fingers that played with the stem of his glass and the coarse black hair that dusted his wrists below the pristine cuffs of his shirt.

Nikolas was such a masculine animal, she thought, a sense of suffocation at his nearness almost overwhelming her. The only man she’d ever known who could reduce her to trembling supplication with just a single look. Or, at least, he had when she was younger, she corrected herself fiercely. She was much older—much wiser—now.

‘So,’ he said, startling her out of her reverie, ‘you would like to know about the job, ne?’

‘If I must,’ she answered tautly. ‘If there really is a job.’

‘You think I would be here otherwise?’

Paige realised that to admit that that was what she had been thinking was conceited, and amended her response. ‘Perhaps.’

‘First of all, am I right in assuming that you are looking for employment?’ he asked softly, and two red flags of colour burned in her pale cheeks.

‘If Martin said it, then it must be true,’ she replied frostily, resenting the question. ‘I suppose he also told you I have no qualifications to speak of.’

‘You have discussed your problems with him?’ Nikolas frowned.

‘No.’ Paige was indignant. ‘Sophie did. She’s desperate for me to get a job so we can find somewhere else to live.’

‘Ah, Sophie.’ He nodded. ‘Your sister. Regrettably, we were never introduced.’

Paige shrugged. ‘She was at school when—when—’

‘When your father was attempting to blind me with his elder daughter’s beauty?’ suggested Nikolas ironically. ‘Yes, I know. How old is she now?’

‘Sixteen.’ Paige pursed her lips. And then, because she couldn’t let him get away with defaming her father’s memory, she added, ‘And Daddy only introduced us. It wasn’t his fault that we—that you betrayed his trust.’

Nikolas’s lips twisted. ‘You do not really believe that.’

‘Why not? And the Murchison deal appeared to be an attractive proposition. He was trying to do you a favour by offering you the chance to invest…’

‘In something that folded only a few months later,’ remarked her companion bleakly. ‘At which time, I’d have lost a considerable amount of money.’

You could afford it, thought Paige defiantly, but she kept that opinion to herself. ‘It might have succeeded if you’d been prepared to back it,’ she said instead, only to meet a blank wall of contempt.

‘Be honest,’ said Nikolas harshly. ‘Theos, the shipping line was already losing money and all your father really wanted was someone else to share the burden of his mistake. Why else do you think he destroyed our relationship? As soon as he realised he was wasting his time with me, he moved on to the next—what is that word you use?—sucker? Yes, sucker.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘Of course it’s true.’

‘No—’

‘Yes—’

‘Avocado mousse, madam.’

The arrival of the meal put an end to any further argument, and although Paige had the feeling she was betraying her father’s memory by even being here now she refused to let Nikolas Petronides have the last word. All the same, meeting his dark eyes across the table, eyes that could turn from black velvet to burnished agate in a twinkling, she suspected she was playing a dangerous game.

‘Perhaps we should discuss why I had Price invite you here,’ he declared, after the waiter had departed again. ‘I’m sure you understand why I prevailed upon him to offer the invitation. I was fairly sure that were I to contact you you would not submit.’

‘Submit?’ Paige pushed the delicate mousse around her plate. ‘That’s a typically Petronides word to use, isn’t it? But you’re right. I wouldn’t have come.’

‘I thought not.’ He paused. ‘That was why I suggested that as Price was a friend of yours he should arrange this meeting.’

Paige absorbed this as the wine waiter poured some of the deliciously flavoured Chardonnay into her glass. But when they were alone again she exclaimed, ‘And Martin had no idea that—that we knew one another?’

‘I’m afraid not.’ Nikolas looked at her over the rim of his own glass. ‘Poor Paige. The men in your life do seem perfectly willing to throw you to the—wolves, do they not?’

Paige refused to let him provoke her. ‘Is that a warning, Kirie Petronides?’ she asked mockingly, and had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes darken accordingly.

But, ‘Maybe,’ was all he said, and it was Paige who felt every nerve in her body tingle at the veiled menace in his voice.

They didn’t speak again until the grilled salmon had been served and then it was Paige who felt compelled to break the uneasy silence that had fallen. ‘I—I would have expected Yanis to handle any employee recruitment,’ she murmured, aware that she had barely touched the mousse and was only making a paltry effort with the salmon. A morsel caught in her dry throat and she was forced to cough and resort to her wine before continuing, ‘He is still with you, I assume?’

Nikolas was not deceived by her attempt at casual conversation. ‘Yanis is still my assistant, ne,’ he conceded evenly. ‘But this is a rather—delicate affair.’

‘Why?’ Despite herself, Paige was puzzled. She couldn’t believe it was anything to do with her.

‘Because it is a personal matter,’ he replied, taking another mouthful of his wine. Then, because she was still looking at him enquiringly, he went on, ‘The job I have in mind concerns my ward. In such circumstances, it is not—suitable—to leave the decision in Yanis’s hands.’

Paige gasped. ‘Your ward?’ She looked stunned. ‘I didn’t know you had a ward.’

‘That is because I did not have a ward when we—knew one another,’ he told her. ‘Ariadne’s father was a close friend, and when he and his wife were killed three years ago I discovered they had appointed me their daughter’s guardian. She has no other close relatives, you understand? Oriste, I have a ward.’

‘I see.’ Paige moved her shoulders uncertainly. ‘That’s quite a responsibility. How old is she?’

‘Ariadne is seventeen years of age. Not too much of a responsibility, as you can see.’

‘Oh.’ Paige was surprised. ‘Then why—?’

‘I am looking for a young woman of good family to—how shall I put it?—keep her company for the summer. And to share with her all those womanly confidences she can no longer share with her mother.’

‘And you thought that I—?’

‘In the absence of any other offers, yes,’ he essayed mildly. ‘Why not?’

Paige gasped. ‘I couldn’t work for you.’

‘Do not be too hasty, aghapita.’ He speared her with a penetrating look. ‘The position carries a generous salary with all expenses found, and the hours would not be too arduous.’

‘I’m not for sale, Nikolas.’

‘No, but you are short of funds, are you not? And you said yourself that your sister is eager for you to find alternative accommodation, ne?’

Paige put down her fork. ‘This is a pointless conversation. I don’t speak Greek.’

‘Ariadne understands English. She is still at school, of course. But she has been educated to a very high standard.’

‘Then she’s probably perfectly capable of taking care of herself,’ said Paige, thinking of her own sister. Sophie would die if anyone suggested she needed a chaperon. ‘Besides, as you’ve just mentioned, I have a sister, who—who—’ Had been quite a handful since Paige had had to remove her from the expensive boarding school she’d been attending. ‘Who I couldn’t possibly leave on her own.’

Or with Aunt Ingrid, she appended ruefully. Ever since their father died, they’d been staying with their mother’s sister in her ‘bijou’ cottage, as she described it, in Islington. And it was only because Paige was there to keep the peace between them that Sophie and her aunt remained on speaking terms…