Contracted To Her Greek Enemy / Crowning His Unlikely Princess
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Steph’s eyebrows rose. ‘Nevertheless, it’s time I returned.’
‘I’d hoped we could talk.’
‘Talk?’ What could they possibly have to discuss? ‘We have nothing to talk about.’
Was it her imagination or did that strong jaw clench? The gleam in those remarkable eyes dimmed and Steph had the impression, suddenly, that something serious lurked behind his air of assurance.
‘About Melbourne—’
‘There’s nothing to discuss. It’s in the past.’
‘It doesn’t feel like it. You look at me with hostility, Stephanie.’
Her fingers curled around the stem of the champagne glass as she fought the impulse to throw the rest of her drink over his too-handsome face.
Except she wouldn’t make a scene at Emma’s wedding.
Her eyes rounded in disbelief. ‘You’re surprised by that?’
‘I apologised.’
‘Oh, and that makes it all right, does it?’ Steph waved her hand and vintage champagne arced through the air, splashing onto the ground.
‘I did what was necessary to help my friend.’
‘You kidnapped me!’ Steph jammed her finger into the centre of his chest.
‘Only a very little kidnap. Christo was desperate, wondering where his bride had disappeared to on their wedding day.’
‘That’s no excuse. She sent a message saying she was safe. Besides, you can’t blame Emma for leaving when she discovered the real reason he’d married her.’
Slowly Damen shook his head. ‘They’ve made their peace now. But that week Christo was mad with worry. I had to help him locate her. And you,’ suddenly he leaned towards her, his free hand covering hers and capturing it against his chest, ‘you knew where she was.’
‘You assumed I did.’ Steph kept her eyes on his face, rather than that broad chest where his heart thudded strongly beneath her palm.
‘It was more than an assumption, Stephanie. It didn’t take a genius to work out she’d had help disappearing so completely and quickly. I could see you were uncomfortable keeping quiet about Emma’s whereabouts. I knew if I could just get you alone and persuade you…’
The heat in Steph’s cheeks turned scorching hot, exploding in fiery darts that shot through her whole body. She ripped her hand from his grasp and stepped back.
‘Is that what you call it? Persuasion?’ Her breath came in sawing gasps that didn’t fill her lungs.
Dull colour scored his sculpted cheekbones but Steph felt no satisfaction that she’d actually dented his ego or his conscience.
She was too busy remembering that it wasn’t Damen but she who’d made the first move that night.
Exhausted from a long week at work, she’d had no excuse to refuse Damen when he arrived saying he had a lead on Emma’s location. He’d asked her to go with him to persuade her back to her husband. Steph had known Emma was in Corfu, since she’d made Emma’s travel arrangements. But she couldn’t admit that. So she’d gone with Damen, only to doze off on the long drive out of the city.
When she’d woken the car had stopped and Damen was leaning towards her, his breath warm on her face. Half-awake and unthinking, she’d reacted instinctively and lifted her hand to his face. He’d stilled and Steph could have sworn the atmosphere turned electric with mutual need. Then his arms were around her and she was arching into him as he kissed her with a thoroughness that unravelled everything she thought she knew about desire, and every defence she’d ever erected.
Her hands had ploughed through that thick, soft hair with a desperation that betrayed an attraction she’d tried and failed to suppress. All week she’d seen Damen, handsome, caring Damen, support his friend and Emma’s family, checking on them all, leaving no stone unturned in the quest to find Emma.
It was only when they’d finally left the car for the deserted beach house that Steph discovered the truth. She’d been walking on air, her blood singing in her veins. Until Damen admitted why he’d brought her to that isolated place.
He’d hold her there till she told him where Emma was, for days if necessary. Even then she hadn’t believed him. Thought he actually had a romantic rendezvous in mind. Till eventually she’d reached for her phone and he’d told her he’d taken it from her bag in the car and locked it away.
He hadn’t been leaning towards her to wake her, or to steal a kiss. He’d been reaching into her handbag, palming her phone so she couldn’t call for assistance.
And when she’d reached for him?
Well, why look a gift horse in the mouth? He must have decided that softening her up with a little seduction would make it easier to get to the truth.
Steph shut her eyes, trying to blot out the memory of that night. Of how she’d betrayed her yearning for a man who didn’t care for her. Who’d callously used her attraction to him for his own ends. No doubt he’d silently laughed at her gullibility.
‘Stephanie?’ A firm hand gripped her elbow. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Don’t. Touch. Me.’
One staggering step back and she came up against a cypress tree. Instead of sinking against it she stood straight and stared up into green eyes dark with concern.
He was a good actor. Last year in Australia she’d believed he was as attracted as she.
The worst of it was that to him it had merely been a little kidnap, since Christo had phoned soon after Damen’s revelation with news he’d discovered Emma’s whereabouts. Her abductor had then apologised for his ‘drastic action’ and driven her home, politely seeing her to her door in a painful parody of a date. All the time she’d squirmed at how she’d revealed her feelings for him. Feelings he didn’t return. Feelings he’d callously used.
Steph had felt about an inch tall.
Like all those times when her dad had failed to show up, despite his promises. Because something had cropped up that was more important than spending time with his girl.
‘I wanted to apologise.’
Damen’s deep voice held a husky edge that might have sounded like guilt. Except Steph would rather trust a crocodile that claimed to be vegetarian than she would this man.
‘You’ve done that before.’
Wide shoulders lifted. ‘It obviously didn’t work.’
‘Work?’ Her gaze slewed back to his face and she took in his serious expression.
‘You haven’t forgiven me.’
For a long time his eyes held hers, then she looked beyond him to the bluer than blue sky and the scented cypress trees. ‘You can’t have everything.’
She was not going to absolve his outrageous behaviour.
‘Yet you haven’t told Emma what happened.’
Unwillingly she turned back to him. ‘Emma had enough to deal with. And later…’ She shrugged. ‘There was no reason to tell her. Especially as you’re her husband’s best friend. Why put her in the impossible position of disliking you when she’ll have no choice but to see you regularly?’
‘Is that how you feel? You dislike me?’ Again that echo of something Steph couldn’t identify in his tone.
Regret?
Probably more like curiosity. Steph was fairly certain most people approved of Damen Nicolaides, given his looks, charm and stonking great fortune.
She breathed deep, steadying herself. It was time to end this. ‘I was brought up to be polite, Mr Nicolaides. But clearly you’re too thick-skinned to get the message.’ Steph wondered if anyone, particularly a woman, had ever said no to him. Had they all fallen victim to his charm? ‘The answer is yes, I dislike you.’
To her chagrin he didn’t react. Not even a flicker in that sharp green stare. Clearly her words had no impact on his monumental ego.
Her chin hiked higher. ‘I’ll be happy if I never have to see or speak with you again.’
That was when she saw it. A stiffening of muscles, drawing the skin tight across the hard planes of his face. A flare of imperious nostrils. A twitch of the lips. And those eyes…despite their cool colour they burned for a second with shocking heat.
A moment later Steph was left wondering if she’d imagined his reaction. He looked as he always did, effortlessly urbane and totally at ease, as if his only worry was deciding whether to summon his jet for a jaunt to Acapulco or Monte Carlo.
His mouth stretched into a smile that made Steph’s thudding heart skip. It was a crying shame that the man should be so formidably attractive when he was such a louse.
‘That’s unfortunate. I was hoping to get to know you better. Spend some time together.’
‘Together?’ Steph couldn’t believe it. Did he really think she’d be sucked into falling for his macho charisma again? Couldn’t he comprehend how thoroughly she detested him? ‘You have to be joking. I wouldn’t spend time with you if you offered me a million dollars.’
A heartbeat’s silence, a tic of pulse at his temple, just time enough for Steph to wonder how far her strident words had carried. She was turning towards the path back to the wedding when his voice halted her.
‘Then how about two million dollars?’
CHAPTER TWO
THE WORDS WERE out before Damen could think about them. But even as they sank in, he felt a surge of satisfaction.
Because finally Stephanie looked at him with something other than disdain?
Or because instinct told him the offer, despite being instinctive, was pure genius?
He’d wanted a woman who was single, attractive, clever and short-term. Stephanie met his requirements exactly. The fact she didn’t like him only made her more perfect.
Except for that niggle deep in Damen’s belly when she looked at him like he was something unsavoury.
Then he felt guilt. Regret.
And, he admitted, indignation.
He knew he deserved her anger, understood he’d hurt her. But how could he have stood by and watched his best friend go crazy with worry, knowing Stephanie Logan held the answers he needed?
He’d tried everything he could think of to get the truth out of her but she’d withstood all his appeals for help. When those failed he’d acted decisively to end the farce that she didn’t know where Emma was. His motives had been laudable. He’d done it for the best, to give Christo a chance to find his bride and sort out their problems.
Yet it was true Damen had been too taken up with getting answers to consider his actions from Stephanie’s perspective. Until she’d looked at him with those huge brown eyes full of hurt. Even her subsequent lashing temper hadn’t erased the memory of her embarrassment and pain. That night Damen felt emotions he hadn’t felt in a decade or more. Since he’d faced his father that fateful night.
Damen had intended to see her again, to make things right between them, except there’d been a business crisis that needed his personal attention and he’d had to leave.
Or maybe it was easier to walk away and not face what she made you feel.
‘If that’s your idea of a joke I don’t appreciate it.’
Stephanie swung away, her loose, dark curls bouncing.
She’d had short hair in Melbourne. Short and severe, yet somehow the boyish style had emphasised the feminine allure of features that should be merely ordinary.
Watching those glossy curls swirl around her head, Damen recognised she was anything but ordinary. How could she be when she was so vibrant? The air around her crackled with energy and an inner force lit her features whether she was sad, happy or furious.
And when she kissed—
‘It’s no joke.’
That stopped her. She slammed to a stop and turned to face him. Her chin hiked up as if she had a chance of meeting his gaze on the same level. Yet, though she was far shorter, somehow she managed to look down that petite nose at him. One eyebrow arched and her velvety gaze turned piercing.
That was better.
Her anger he could handle. It was the shadow of hurt he’d seen before that discomfited him.
As if he, Damen Nicolaides, could be swayed by a tiny brunette’s emotions! He regularly played hardball at the negotiating table with competitors, contractors, unions and regulators.
The idea was laughable. And yet…
‘Obviously you’re not serious. You’d never pay two million dollars to—’
‘Spend time with you?’ He stepped towards her, but cautiously, not wanting her to dash off in a temper before she heard him out. ‘In fact I do mean it.’
She shook her head, her forehead wrinkling. ‘How much have you had to drink?’
Damen felt his mouth stretch in a grin. ‘Barely anything. I’m stone-cold sober.’ Far from being insulted, he enjoyed her directness. Only his close family and Christo treated him like a real person these days. Most others were busy trying to get on his good side.
‘It can’t be a pick-up line because I know you have no interest in picking me up.’
Her voice was cool but the streaks of pink across her cheeks betrayed emotion. Instantly Damen was swept back to that night outside Melbourne. How delicious she’d been in his arms. How delectably flushed and aroused.
‘So what’s your game? Are you trying to make a fool of me again? Did you enjoy it so much you’ve developed a taste for it?’
She looked like she could spit fire, arms crossed, empty wine glass beating a tattoo against her bare arm. In her slinky green dress she looked like an angry sea sprite.
Damen felt a tug of desire. He had vivid recollections of how her initial, tentative caresses had grown demanding and surprisingly addictive.
He forced himself to concentrate.
‘Come on, Stephanie. I’m not like that. You know why I did what I did.’ Enough was enough. He’d inadvertently hurt her but she made him out to be some sort of sadistic manipulator. ‘I’ve said I’m sorry. I’ll do what I can to make amends for what I did.’
‘Good.’ She inclined her head regally. ‘You can leave me alone. That will do nicely.’
With a flounce she spun away. The long dress flared out around her legs, drawing attention to her tiny waist. Damen’s fingers twitched as he remembered the feel of her slim, restless body against his.
‘Don’t you want to hear about the two million dollars?’ he said silkily, crossing his arms. One thing he knew. There were few people who’d spurn the chance to get their hands on that sort of money.
Naturally she paused. Money talked. Damen told himself he wasn’t disappointed that she was like all the rest. He was pleased, because he needed her.
‘I can’t believe you’re serious.’
‘Oh, I’m serious.’ He’d do whatever it took to bring peace to Clio and her family. Two million was nothing compared with their wellbeing.
‘Okay, then.’ Again that chin hitched high. Her eyes narrowed to suspicious slits. ‘What do you want?’
‘You.’ He watched her stiffen and hurried on. ‘Or, more precisely, your company in public.’
‘In public?’
What had she thought? That he’d pay for her in his bed? His jaw tightened. He’d never paid for sex and he didn’t intend to begin now. His voice was steely as he answered. ‘Of course in public. This is a PR exercise, nothing else. I’m not proposing we become lovers.’
Inexplicably, though, his stomach clenched as her head jerked back and her cheeks turned pale.
As if he’d insulted her.
It reminded him of her bruised look that night in Australia after their kisses in the car. When she discovered he’d taken her there not for seduction but to demand the truth about Emma’s location. He’d hurt her and clearly he wasn’t forgiven.
The look in those liquid dark eyes when she’d woken to discover him leaning across her, slipping the phone from her bag, had been one of delight. Not surprise, but welcome. As if there was nothing more natural than the pair of them together.
For a few minutes Damen had forgotten why they were there and fallen under her sensual spell. It had been surprisingly potent and he’d been shocked at the depth of his response. The extent to which she distracted him from his purpose.
Ignoring a sharp pang that felt like guilt, Damen spoke. ‘I need a woman to act as my companion, my girlfriend, for the next few months. And who’ll keep the secret that it’s a pretence. That’s all.’
‘That’s all?’ Her eyes rounded. ‘What happened? You can’t get a girlfriend? Have all the women in Greece finally seen past the smiles and the charm to the louse behind the mask?’
Now she tried his temper. A temper Damen was barely aware he had. For years everything in his world had gone the way he wanted it to. Except for the trying tendency of women to see him as a matrimonial prize.
Damen’s chin lifted as he stood straighter. Stephanie’s expression stilled, her eyes growing wary as she sensed his anger, yet she didn’t retreat.
With enormous restraint Damen refused to take the bait. Stephanie’s dislike of him meant she was perfect in this role. She’d never hanker for more from him than his money.
‘We’re not discussing my personal life, except to say that I don’t have a lover at the moment. You wouldn’t be stepping on anyone’s toes.’ She opened her mouth, no doubt to say something he didn’t want to hear, so Damen kept talking. ‘I need someone who can give the appearance of being my girlfriend.’
‘Why?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Of course it matters. No woman worth her salt would get involved in such a crazy scheme without knowing why. It sounds shonky. You’re asking me to lie.’
‘As I recall, it’s not the first time you’ve done that.’
Her cheeks pinkened and despite his impatience Damen found himself intrigued as fire flashed in her eyes. He couldn’t remember any other woman who telegraphed her emotions that way, or who regularly managed to get a reaction from him.
‘That was different! I was protecting my friend.’
‘As I was protecting mine.’
Her breath exhaled in a slow stream as she clearly fought for control.
‘Okay, I’ll bite, Mr Nicolaides. Tell me more.’
‘Damen.’ He stifled a sigh. He sensed he’d wait till Hades froze before she willingly used his name. That should please him, more proof that she had no scheme to become his girlfriend for real, yet he was chagrined. He wasn’t used to being summarily rejected by a woman. Especially a woman who still…intrigued him.
He digested that. It could be a mistake, asking her to do this when he wasn’t totally immune to the appeal of those big brown eyes or that trim figure.
Plus it would be problematic getting involved with Emma’s best friend. He could do without the repercussions.
But if this scheme was to work he had to act now. Cassie’s wedding was soon and this masquerade had to seem plausible. The earlier reports filtered to the press and to Manos that Damen had a live-in lover, the better. Anyone who knew him would understand how momentous that was, for in Damen’s world the words ‘live-in’ and ‘lover’ never existed together.
‘I want it to appear for the next month or two that I’m committed to a woman.’
She shook her head, curls swirling around her face. ‘But why? As a decoy while you have an affair with a married woman? Am I supposed to keep her husband off the scent?’ Her mouth pursed.
‘No!’ Where did she get these ideas? Did she think he had no honour? ‘I’d never touch another man’s woman!’
Stephanie’s expression didn’t change. It was a new thing to have his word doubted. Damen didn’t like it.
He raked a hand through his hair, frustration rising. ‘Someone has the idea, the completely wrong idea, that I’m planning to marry…a particular woman. I need a pretend lover to convince them they’re wrong.’
‘You led some poor female to believe you were serious about a relationship and now—’
‘No!’ Damen blinked as he realised his voice had risen to a roar.
He never shouted. Nor did he explain himself. His pride smarted and his chest felt tight with anger and frustration. Suddenly Stephanie Logan’s suitability for this masquerade lessened. She had a knack for provoking him that no one else had.
‘I haven’t misled any woman. The woman in question has no interest in marrying me. It’s her family that wants the marriage, primarily because of my fortune.’
‘Now, that I can understand.’
Her tone implied no one would want Damen for himself, only for his money. That rankled. Especially as it cut too close to the truth.
The murky past raised its ugly head but he’d had years to practise avoiding painful memories. Ruthlessly he shoved thoughts of the past away.
And found his lips twitching.
A month with Stephanie Logan would whittle his ego down, that was for sure.
If he could get her to agree.
Had he ever met a woman so ready to think the worst of him?
‘Listen, the woman and I are friends only. However, her father has other ideas and he’s bullying her.’
‘To marry you?’
Damen nodded. ‘He’s a determined man and he’s making her life unbearable. He won’t let it rest unless I show him my interests lie elsewhere.’
Did Stephanie’s flush deepen or did he imagine it?
‘So you do want camouflage.’
‘Listen, Stephanie. No one will be hurt by this masquerade. On the contrary it will make life a whole lot easier for my friend and her family.’
For long moments Stephanie stared back at him. This time Damen found it impossible to read her thoughts. Was she leaning towards agreement? Wondering if she should ask for more money?
‘No one would believe we were together.’
He frowned. ‘Because we mix in different social circles?’
‘You’re saying you’re out of my league?’ She snapped out the words and he knew he’d offended her. ‘Actually, my friends wouldn’t believe it because I have better taste in men.’
Her bright eyes and angled chin signalled pure challenge. Strangely Damen found himself suppressing a smile. She was so determined to rile him. It made him wonder what it would be like if she put all that energy into something else. His thoughts strayed into scenarios that would make her blush if she knew.
‘Why me?’ she asked at last.
Damen shrugged. ‘You’re single. You’ve got some time free—Emma mentioned you were on holiday. And I know you wouldn’t misinterpret this as a chance to establish yourself in my life permanently. The fact you dislike me is a point in your favour.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Because any other woman would try to worm her way into your affections?’
He spread his hands wide. ‘It’s a possibility.’
She muttered something under her breath. The only word he heard was ‘ego’.
Damen stiffened.
Did he truly want to tie himself for a couple of months to a woman who despised him? Would she even be able to play the part of besotted lover?
The answer was yes and yes.
Stephanie Logan was the ideal candidate for this masquerade. She was an outsider, unknown to friends or family in Greece. And he could trust her motives to be strictly short-term.
As for acting besotted…they said love was the opposite side of hate. Damen just had to harness all that emotional energy in a constructive direction. The way the atmosphere sparked and sizzled when they were together would convince even a sceptic that they were connected.
‘And you don’t want to settle down because you’re busy being a carefree bachelor?’ Her voice dripped disapproval.
‘Something like that.’
Damen had no intention of explaining his plan to avoid marriage. He’d never have kids. Eventually he’d pass the family enterprise to his sisters’ children. Damen had enough family without creating more. Especially as he’d always wonder if his wife had married him for himself or his money.
‘I still don’t understand why you asked me and not someone else, but the answer’s no. I don’t like deception and you’re the last man I want to spend time with.’
Damen stared at Stephanie’s flushed face, her clenched jaw and those high breasts rising and falling with each rapid breath.
He wanted to seal this deal here and now but he read the warning signs. Stephanie was a passionate woman in a temper, ready to lash out, even if it meant passing up an opportunity she’d later regret.