The Greek Boss's Bride

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CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

COMING NEXT MONTH

PROLOGUE

NIKOS NIARCHOU’S VISIT to the London offices of the Niarchou Leisure Group was the subject of intense excitement among all the staff. All the staff bar one, Kezia thought impatiently, as she crossed the reception area and was assailed by the overpowering smell of furniture polish.

‘Anyone would think we were expecting a visit from royalty,’ she muttered to Jo Stafford, her colleague from the PR department, as they stepped into the lift.

‘A visit from the company chairman is as good as,’ Jo replied seriously. ‘It’s over a year since he last came, and the MD is sweating buckets that we make a good impression. Nik Niarchou demands high standards from every member of staff, from top management down to office junior. You must remember him,’ she added, when Kezia failed to look suitably overawed.

‘I joined the company just after his last visit. I remember there was a lot of talk about it, but I’ve never met him so I’m afraid I don’t know what all the fuss is about.’

‘You must have heard about him, though,’ Jo protested. ‘His reputation in the bedroom is almost as legendary as it is in the boardroom. The gossip columns can’t get enough of him—but let’s face it: he’s a gorgeous Greek multimillionaire who has the added attraction of being single. It’s not surprising he grabs the headlines—especially now he’s decided to settle permanently in England. Apparently he’s bought some fantastic stately home in Hertfordshire called Otterbourne House, and there’s a queue a mile long for the position of lady of the manor.’

The lift stopped at Kezia’s floor and she stepped out. ‘You’d better point this demi-god out to me when he arrives. It could prove embarrassing if I don’t recognise him,’ she added dryly.

‘You’ll know him,’ Jo assured her with a grin. ‘Nik Niarchou is unlike any man you’ve ever met. Trust me, he’s unforgettable.’

Kezia hurried past the front desk of the PR department and shook her head at the sight of the receptionist, who was measuring the length of each tulip stalk before placing the bloom carefully in a vase.

The whole place had gone mad, she thought irritably, and all because of one man. How great could he be? Jo had described Nikos Niarchou as some sort of Greek colossus, but it was amazing how blinding the lure of money could be. In reality he was probably short, balding and middle aged—with a paunch, Kezia added for good measure. However, there was no denying the fact that as company chairman, Mr Niarchou was supremely powerful. It was reputed that he had impossibly high standards and she prayed that her boss, Frank Warner, would actually make it into the office on time and sober this morning.

By ten-thirty Frank hadn’t shown up, and she was panicking. She had worked as PA to the head of the Niarchou Group’s public relations department for the past year, and had to admit that the job was not quite as she had anticipated. Her boss was struggling to cope with an acrimonious divorce and a drink problem. She wasn’t sure which one had triggered the other, but she couldn’t go on covering for him for much longer without other members of staff noticing. She was fond of Frank, but right now she could cheerfully boil him in oil, Kezia thought darkly as she walked along to the coffee machine and stared down at the car park, searching for his car. There was no sign of him, and with a groan she headed back along the corridor.

‘Damn it, Frank, where are you?’ she muttered, halting abruptly in the doorway of her office as a figure swung round from the window.

Her first impression of the man who turned towards her was his exceptional height. He was easily five inches over six feet tall, she estimated, unable to drag her gaze from the formidable width of his shoulders. His black, impeccably tailored suit sheathed a lean, hard body, and she noted the impressive muscle definition of his abdomen visible beneath his silk shirt. As if in slow motion she lifted her eyes to his face—and swallowed as the full impact of his handsome face overwhelmed her. Razor-sharp cheekbones, a square jaw that hinted an implacably determined character, and a mouth that was wide, full-lipped and innately sensual.

Jo had been right, Kezia acceded numbly. Nikos Niarchou was unlike any man she had ever met.

There was no doubt in her mind that the man who was watching her with the silent stillness of a predator was the head of the phenomenally successful Niarchou Group. He possessed an air of authority teamed with a barely concealed impatience. But nothing had prepared her for his raw sexual magnetism—or her reaction to it.

‘That’s a very good question, Miss Trevellyn. Where exactly is Frank Warner?’

His voice was deep timbred, with a pronounced Greek accent that was so sexy it made her toes curl. Get a grip, she told herself fiercely, irritated by the discovery that she seemed to have lost the power of speech.

His dark eyes travelled over her in a slow appraisal, noting the simplicity of her grey skirt and white blouse, and Kezia crossed her arms instinctively over her chest, longing for the protection of her jacket. Her clothes were smart and practical, but beneath his intense scrutiny she was aware that her blouse gaped fractionally over her breasts and her skirt clung faithfully to her curvaceous hips and rounded bottom. His gaze moved lower and skimmed her legs in their sheer black hose before trawling up again, and she had the feeling that he had mentally stripped her bare, leaving her exposed to his gaze.

With a huge effort she forced herself to relax and moved further into the room. ‘You have the advantage of knowing my name, but I’m afraid I don’t know yours—Mr…?’

‘Niarchou—Nikos Niarchou.’

The gleam in his eyes warned her that he was amused by her pretence that she did not know his identity. He dismantled her air of cool efficiency with humiliating ease, and she blushed as she proffered her hand to formalise their introduction.

‘And you are Kezia Trevellyn, Frank’s personal assistant.’

His hand closed around hers and instantly engulfed it. She had expected the contact to be brief and impersonal, but incredibly he lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed his lips against her fingers. It was electrifying; she almost literally felt sparks shoot down her arm. Her whole body was on fire, and with a gasp she tore her fingers free from his grasp.

Her legs felt distinctly wobbly as a mixture of embarrassment and fierce sexual heat coursed through her veins. She had never felt anything remotely like it before. It was like being hit by a bulldozer. Jo hadn’t lied when she’d said Nik Niarchou was unforgettable. Kezia knew instinctively that his darkly handsome features would be imprinted on her brain for ever. But from somewhere she salvaged a little of her self-possession and glanced at him coolly.

‘Yes, I’m Frank Warner’s PA, but I’m afraid he’s out of the office this morning.’ She crossed to her desk and made a show of flicking through the diary. ‘His meeting is scheduled to finish around lunchtime. If there’s something you need to discuss with him, I’ll ask him to call you as soon as he gets back.’ She awarded him an impersonal smile and moved towards the door, her body language clearly indicating that she expected him to follow her.

Instead he pulled out the chair from behind the desk and sat down.

‘Come and take a seat, Miss Trevellyn—or can I call you Kezia?’

The gleam in his eyes told her he would call her what he liked, with or without her permission. He was patently a man who liked his own way, and she was aware that for Frank’s sake she had better curb her hot temper.

Once she was seated opposite him he subjected her to a long, hard stare until she shifted restlessly. His expression was unfathomable, his eyes shaded by long black lashes that matched the colour of his hair. This close she caught the subtle tang of his cologne, and her senses flared. She couldn’t think straight, and try as she might she seemed to be physically unable to prevent her gaze from straying to his mouth.

‘What’s going on, Kezia?’ he demanded abruptly, the harshness of his tone making her jump. ‘We’re both aware that Frank’s diary is as empty this week as last. I glanced through it before you came in,’ he added blandly, plainly unconcerned by her indignant gasp.

‘You had no right to snoop through my desk—’ she began, her voice faltering as his brows lifted fractionally. He was the company chairman, he had the right to do what he damn well liked and they both knew it.

‘Where is he now? The pub?’

‘At eleven o’clock in the morning! Of course not—’ She broke off and tucked a stray copper-coloured curl behind her ear. ‘It’s true Frank has had some difficulties in his private life recently,’ she admitted slowly. ‘I understand that his divorce from his wife was very bitter.’

‘And what part did you play in the ending of his marriage?’ Nik’s hard expression did not flicker as twin spots of colour flared on Kezia’s cheeks.

‘I’m sorry? Why should Frank’s divorce have anything to do with me?’

‘It’s not unheard of for a man of a certain age to make a fool of himself over his much younger secretary. Especially when that secretary is an attractive woman like yourself,’ he added coolly, ignoring the sparks of fury in her eyes. ‘Your loyalty to your boss is admirable, Kezia, but I’m curious to understand why you would lie in defence of a man who I understand is out of the office more often that he’s in it. Word is, you’re carrying Frank. The success of the last ad campaign was solely down to you, although you allowed him to take the credit.’

‘And my loyalty to him is proof that I’m sleeping with him?’ Kezia snapped, trembling with outrage. ‘Frank’s a friend and colleague, nothing more, and to imply otherwise is hideous.’

She jumped to her feet and glared at Nik Niarchou across the desk. Sinfully sexy and as arrogant as hell, she surmised darkly. He was also far more aware of the problems within the PR department than she had credited, and she feared there was little she could do to help Frank Warner.

‘So, if it’s not an affair it must be the drink,’ Nik mused. ‘You have to appreciate that the situation can’t carry on, Kezia.’ He rose to his feet, towering over her so that she was forced to crane her neck to look at him.

‘What will you do? Frank’s a good man…’ she muttered as he strolled over to the door. She scurried after him. For a moment she thought he was going to ignore her, but then he turned and glanced down at her anxious face.

‘Obviously there will need to be changes,’ he told her bluntly.

To her consternation he caught hold of her chin and tilted her face so her eyes locked with his. Instantly her senses quivered. He was a sorcerer, and she was held powerless in his spell. He would be an incredible lover, she acknowledged numbly as liquid heat flooded through her veins. His eyes narrowed, his body suddenly taut, and she was mortified by the horrifying realisation that he must have read her mind.

‘Your loyalty to Warner is misjudged but impressive, as is your work record. My PA has inconveniently decided to get married and move to Australia with her husband,’ he informed her, and Kezia frowned at the unexpected change of subject. ‘After ten years of dedicated service, Donna is deserting me.’

‘With good reason, as far as I can see,’ Kezia muttered, allowing her unruly tongue get the better of her. But to her surprise Nik flung his head back and laughed.

‘Spirited as well as beautiful—a dangerous combination,’ he drawled. ‘But I like danger. It adds spice, don’t you think, Kezia? The post of my PA will become available in the next couple of months. I’ll look forward to receiving your application.’

‘What makes you so sure I’d be interested?’ she demanded crossly, irritated by his arrogance.

‘Instinct,’ he replied softly, his smile deepening as he noted the hectic colour on her cheeks. ‘And I’m rarely wrong.’

CHAPTER ONE

NIK WAS DUE home any minute.

Kezia glanced at the clock on the dashboard and pressed her foot down on the accelerator. At this rate her dynamic and notoriously impatient boss would arrive at his country mansion ahead of her, and all hell would break loose. Nik was bringing a group of Bulgarian businessmen to Otterbourne House, hoping to impress them with his plans for a hotel complex on the Black Sea coast, and he expected his PA to be ready and waiting to greet his guests.

Could the day get any worse? Kezia wondered grimly as she peered through the rain. It was bad enough that the catering company she had booked for tonight’s party had pulled out at the last minute. Most of the staff had come down with flu, the harassed administrator had explained. But with a day’s notice to try and make alternative arrangements, Kezia had been short on sympathy. Fortunately Nik’s housekeeper, Mrs Jessop, had rallied round, and was busy preparing a lavish dinner that was set to impress the guests. It had been left to Kezia to collect a selection of desserts from the patisserie, but the trip into town had taken longer than she had anticipated. The torrential downpour had caused serious flooding along the narrow country lanes, and now dusk was falling.

She needed to focus all her concentration on the road, but as usual it was a certain sexy Greek who dominated her thoughts. An unbidden image of Nik’s handsome face filled her mind as she pictured his classically sculpted features. Get a grip, she admonished herself sternly, irritated at the way her heartbeat quickened with every mile that she drew nearer to Otterbourne.

He had been away for the past few weeks, visiting his family in Greece, and she was dismayed at how much she had missed him. It was pathetic for a grown woman of twenty-four to have developed such a ridiculous fixation with a man who was way out of her league, she reminded herself savagely. She felt like a teenager in the throes of her first crush and she would die of shame if he ever guessed how much he affected her.

She reached the outskirts of the village and breathed a sigh of relief. Another five minutes and she would be turning in to the gates leading to Otterbourne House. With any luck she would just beat Nik—although she would have little time to tidy her hair or check her make-up. Not that he would notice, she conceded bleakly. As far as Nik was concerned she was his ultra-efficient PA, whose sole purpose was to ensure that his life ran smoothly.

As he had explained at her interview, three months ago, he didn’t want a decorative bimbo running his office; he was looking for someone who was prepared to put in long hours and who would blend unobtrusively into the background. With her unruly curls tamed into a sleek chignon, and her sensible navy blue suit, he had obviously deemed Kezia the ideal choice.

There had been no element of the sexual tension she recalled from their first meeting at the London head office—at least not on his part. He’d given no indication that he even remembered her, and the fact that her tongue had tied itself in knots throughout the interview had added to her embarrassment. It was evident that he was only interested in her organisational skills, and sometimes she wondered whether he would notice if she paraded around the office stark naked.

Without warning something shot out from the shadows and ran in front of the car. Kezia hit the brakes, skidded on the wet road and lost control. She was heading for the trees, and with a frantic cry she jerked the wheel. The engine stalled and she ploughed into the bushes that lined the road. So much for concentrating, she thought shakily. The seat belt had saved her from serious injury, but the force of the impact had caused her to hit her head on the steering wheel, and already she could feel a lump the size of an egg swelling on her temple.

She restarted the engine and cautiously backed up onto the road before climbing out of the car. It was too dark to make a proper inspection for damage, but at least the car was drivable. A wave of sickness swept over her. What was it that had run out? Probably a fox that had now disappeared into the undergrowth, she told herself as she squinted through the rain. She was cold and wet, and running seriously late, but the thought of leaving an animal lying injured on the roadside was abhorrent to her, and with a muttered curse she began to search along the verge.

Ten minutes later she was soaked to the skin and ready to give up when a faint whimper drew her attention to the other side of the ditch. The dog was no more than a bag of bones. Its fur was wet and matted, and in the dark in was impossible to see if it was injured, but when she held out her hand it moved tentatively towards her.

‘Come on, boy,’ she whispered gently, feeling the animal tremble with a mixture of cold and fright as she lifted it into her arms. ‘Let’s get out of this rain.’

She waded back across the ditch, but as she scrabbled up the slippery bank she felt the heel of one of her shoes give way and cursed loudly. Her new kitten-heel shoes were ruined, and her skirt was covered in mud. Nik was going to go mad, Kezia acknowledged as she hobbled over to the car and deposited the dog on the front seat. He had spent the past week on the phone, relaying precise instructions for the weekend, and it was safe to assume that he would not be impressed when his PA turned up late, looking as if she’d been dragged through a hedge backwards.

Otterbourne House stood at the end of a long drive, hidden from view by tall conifers. Nikos Niarchou felt his heart lift as the limousine rounded the bend and he absorbed the classical elegance of his English country manor. It was good to be back, he thought with a surge of satisfaction—despite the rain. Much as he had enjoyed his trip to Greece, the past couple of weeks seemed to have lasted a lifetime.

It had been good to spend time with his family, but his parents’ unsubtle hints about it being time for him to find a nice Greek girl and settle down had driven him mad. His mother had seized on his visit as an opportunity to nag him to slow his pace, assuring him that he looked tired and accusing him of overdoing things, but it had been the sight of his father, unexpectedly frail and looking every one of his eighty years, that had caused Nik to take a break from his hectic schedule.

Now he was eager to get back to work—starting with the presentation that he hoped would impress the Bulgarians into backing his plans for a hotel complex. He was confident that Kezia had organised tonight’s reception with her usual efficiency. As he ushered his guests through the front door, he glanced around the entrance hall expectantly. Kezia was supposed to be here. He had specifically asked her to act as his hostess, and he frowned when his elderly housekeeper stepped forward to greet him.

‘Where’s Kezia?’ he demanded, without preamble.

‘Good evening, Mr Niarchou, it’s good to have you back.’

‘It’s good to be back, Mrs Jessop.’ His brief smile revealed a flash of white teeth that contrasted with his olive gold skin but failed to add warmth to his dark eyes. ‘I was expecting Kezia to be here,’ he muttered in an impatient undertone. ‘Where the hell is she?’

He had spent a trying day entertaining the Bulgarian businessmen and their wives aboard his private jet, the language barrier having proved an exasperating obstacle to conversation. He needed his PA here, damn it. Corporate entertaining was one of Kezia’s duties, and he had planned to leave his guests in her capable hands while he took a break to shower and unwind. He had given specific orders, and he did not expect them to be flouted without a very good reason.

‘There were some problems with the caterers. All sorted now,’ the housekeeper hastily reassured him, ‘but Kezia had to run into town. She’ll be here any minute, I’m sure.’

‘I hope so.’

Nik’s frown deepened in annoyance. He had come to rely on his PA over the past three months. Sensible and efficient, Kezia was an ideal employee, who could be relied upon to get on with her work without fuss. Beneath her calm demeanour she possessed a sharp wit that made conversations with her interesting—as he had discovered the first time he had met her at the London office. He was a man who liked to have his own way, yet he was secretly amused by Kezia’s refusal to let him dominate her. He had missed her while he was away, he realised with a flicker of surprise and he was looking forward to renewing their discussions on everything from politics to the arts.

His eyes narrowed as the drawing room door opened and a familiar figure emerged. ‘What is Miss Harvey doing here?’ he muttered under his breath to his housekeeper. Tania Harvey, his current mistress, was a sinful siren, with a body to die for, but she had little else to offer other than an encyclopaedic knowledge of celebrity gossip—and he was not in the mood to listen to hours of tittle-tattle about life on the modelling circuit.

‘I understand she’s joining you for dinner,’ Mrs Jessop replied brightly.

‘At whose invitation?’ There was no disguising the irritation in Nik’s voice and Mrs Jessop shrugged helplessly.

‘I don’t know. I assumed you…Perhaps Kezia invited her?’ she murmured. ‘That sounds like her car now—you can ask her.’

‘I intend to. Believe me.’

Tania was walking towards him, and with a supreme effort Nik stifled his impatience as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

‘Hello, darling. Welcome home,’ she murmured, pouting prettily in the way he had once found a turn-on but which was now as annoying as her overtly proprietary air. He had no intention of allowing Tania or any other woman to consider Otterbourne as home—at least not for the foreseeable future.

‘Tania, what a charming surprise—I hadn’t realised you would be here,’ he greeted her politely, as he disentangled himself from her grasp.

‘Your PA invited me—I assumed on your behalf.’ The pout deepened. ‘You are pleased to see me, aren’t you, Nik? Kezia was most insistent that I joined you for dinner.’

‘Was she? That was very thoughtful of her,’ he murmured dryly. ‘Naturally I’m pleased to see you, but I’m afraid I’m going to be busy for most of the weekend.’

‘Lucky I’m here, then. I can help you relax,’ Tania assured him blithely and Nik’s jaw tightened.

Tania Harvey was elegant and blonde, two of the attributes he looked for in a woman, but he freely admitted that he had a low boredom threshold. Her hints that she was hoping for a more permanent place in his life were the last straw. It was time to end the affair—which, if he was honest, had reached its sell-by date even before his trip to Greece.

Close up, Tania wasn’t as confident as she appeared. Beneath the glossy façade there were shadows in her eyes, and if he’d had any deep feelings for her he would have felt a tug of compassion. Instead all he felt was irritation with his PA for putting him in an awkward situation. Up until now Kezia Trevellyn had proved to be an excellent assistant, but he didn’t need anyone to organise his love-life.