A Marriage of Convenience
The Andreou Marriage Arrangement
Helen Bianchin
The Replacement Wife
Caitlin Crews

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

The Andreou Marriage Arrangement

Excerpt

About the Author

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

The Replacement Wife

Excerpt

Dedication

About the Author

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

Copyright

The Andreou Marriage Arrangement

‘Yes or no, Alesha.’ His expression was unreadable, his eyes dark and unwavering as they regarded her.

It had to be yes. ‘I have no choice but to agree, subject to certain conditions.’

There was a strength apparent in her demeanour, a determination he could only admire, given she’d taken a king-hit about the true state of her father’s corporation.

‘Name them.’ His voice held a silkiness she chose to ignore.

‘I retain my position in Karsouli.’

Loukas inclined his head in agreement. ‘Naturally.’

Now for the cruncher. ‘A separate suite of rooms in whatever home we share.’

His gaze narrowed. ‘Your reason being…?’

‘A personal preference.’

He regarded her in silence for several timeless seconds. ‘The same bedroom, separate beds.’ He waited a beat. ‘Until you feel comfortable sharing mine.’

HELEN BIANCHIN was born in New Zealand and travelled to Australia before marrying her Italian-born husband. After three years they moved, returned to New Zealand with their daughter, had two sons and then resettled in Australia. Encouraged by friends to recount anecdotes of her years as a tobacco share farmer’s wife living in an Italian community, Helen began setting words on paper and her first novel was published in 1975. An animal lover, she says her terrier and Persian cat regard her study as as much theirs as hers.

Chapter One

ALESHA sat in stunned silence as the lawyer finished reading her late father’s will.

Surprise didn’t even begin to cut it.

What had Dimitri Karsouli been thinking in selling a twenty-five-per-cent share in the Karsouli Corporation to Loukas Andreou?

Worse…gifting Loukas a further twenty-five-per-cent share. Representing several hundred million dollars on today’s market.

Subject to marriage.

The breath caught in her throat as realization hit. Dear heaven. Her father had bought her a husband?

It was beyond comprehension.

Yet she was all too aware how her father’s mind worked; it didn’t take much to do the maths.

A year ago Alesha’s disastrous short-lived marriage had formally ended in divorce from a man who had professed to love her…only for her to discover to her cost that Seth Armitage’s main goal had been a stake in her father’s fortune and a free ride on the gravy train. It had devastated her and angered her father…more than she had known.

Dimitri, out of a sense of parental devotion, had clearly conspired to arrange what he perceived to be a fail-safe liaison for his daughter via marriage to a man who had his total approval. A man of integrity, trust, possessed of astute business nous, and a worthy companion.

Loukas Andreou, the inflexible omnipotent head of the Athens branch of the Andreou Corporation, whose financial interests included shipping and considerable ancillary assets worldwide.

Loukas, whose father Constantine had been Dimitri’s lifelong friend and associate…a man whose powerful image sprang so readily to Alesha’s mind, it was almost as if his presence became a tangible entity in the room.

In his late thirties, attractive, if one admired masculine warrior features, with the height, breadth of shoulder and facial bone structure that comprised angles and planes. Loukas had brilliant dark eyes and a mouth that promised much.

Sophisticated apparel did little to diminish an innate ruthlessness resting beneath the surface of his control.

It was utterly devastating for Alesha to even begin to imagine what had possessed Dimitri to revise his will to include a clause stipulating his bequest of the remaining fifty-per-cent share in the Karsouli Corporation to his only child, Alesha Eleni Karsouli. This bequest was conditional on a marriage taking place to Loukas Andreou within a month of Dimitri’s demise, thus ensuring a one-hundred-per-cent joint family ownership, thereby securing the corporation and ensuring it would continue into another generation.

‘A court of law could rule the marriage stipulation as invalid,’ Alesha voiced.

The lawyer regarded her thoughtfully. ‘While there would be a degree of sympathy regarding that specific clause, your father’s instructions were very clearly defined. I counselled him to reconsider, but he was adamant that clause should stand.’

Alesha stifled a startled curse beneath her breath.

Dimitri had known how much Karsouli meant to her, how she’d lived and breathed it for as long as she could remember. Absorbing every aspect, studying for degrees at university to ensure she acquired the relevant knowledge, the edge…aware the word nepotism didn’t exist in her father’s vocabulary.

He knew too the pride she’d taken in working her way from the ground up to her current position of authority.

It had been a foregone conclusion his only child would assume control upon Dimitri’s demise.

And he had, Alesha conceded, gifted her that…with strings attached. Conditions aimed to protect Karsouli, and her. Especially her.

To attempt to force her into a marriage she didn’t want was the ultimate manipulative act, and in that moment she could almost hate him for it.

Two days ago she’d weathered the funeral service at the chapel. Walked behind the hearse to the grave site. Stood in silent despair and grieved as the ritual played out.

Aware of Loukas Andreou’s presence…imagining he’d flown in from Athens to attend Dimitri’s funeral as a mark of respect. And totally unaware of any subterfuge.

She could walk away; ignore the marriage clause, resign from the Karsouli Corporation and seek a position in a rival firm.

Except she was a Karsouli, born and bred, legally reverting to her maiden name after her failed marriage. Hadn’t her father groomed her to rise to her current position? Conditioning her to believe it didn’t matter she was female; women in the twenty-first century held positions of power, and he’d given her no reason to suppose otherwise.

Dimitri Karsouli had ruled his life and his business interests with an iron fist in a velvet glove, earning him a corporation now worth a fortune.

His father before him had come from humble beginnings in Athens, and, fostering an idea presented to the right person at the right time, initiated the founding office in Athens of the Karsouli Corporation. Dimitri, his only son, had followed in hallowed footsteps, living and breathing the business and injecting it with new ideas, broadening its scope and extending it onto a global market.

Dimitri had married and moved to Sydney and had sought to have his own son continue, except his marriage had gifted him a daughter, born in difficult circumstances that had rendered his wife unable to produce another child.

A beloved daughter, Alesha, who had become her father’s pride and joy, especially when she proved she’d inherited his business acumen and sharp mind.

Privately educated and exclusively schooled, Alesha had graduated from university with honours in a business degree, and had entered Karsouli in a lowly position, rising in the ranks through hard work and dedication.

Her one error in judgement had been to marry in haste, against her father’s wishes, a man who, while playing a part to perfection during their brief courtship, had revealed his true persona within hours of leaving the wedding reception.

A painful time, when divorce and a handsome pay-out had been the only option. Especially so, as it was compounded by her mother’s losing battle with a virulent form of cancer.

Alesha’s adamant refusal to consider marriage at any future stage became a bone of contention between father and daughter. Now, by a conditional clause in his will, Dimitri was bent on manipulating her into matrimony with a man of whom he approved. A man of Greek descent. Someone who had his utmost trust…to take the reins of Karsouli and lead his daughter into the marriage bed.

Dimitri had to be smiling in his grave, assured Alesha would never concede to losing what she loved most in life…the family firm.

In that respect she’d inherited her father’s genes. His bloodline was so strong, the desire to achieve, to succeed, to prove her worth beyond doubt, irrespective of gender.

‘This…scheme has Loukas Andreou’s approval?’

The lawyer spread his hands in a telling gesture. ‘I understand he has indicated his consent.’

‘It’s outrageous,’ Alesha uttered with considerable heat. ‘Impossible,’ she added for good measure. ‘I don’t want to marry anyone.’

Loukas Andreou had been welcomed into her parents’ home on the few occasions he’d visited Sydney. She’d dined in his company, and met up with him in Athens on the occasional trip to Greece with her parents. Combining business with pleasure…or so she’d thought at the time.

Now, she wasn’t so sure. Even then, had Dimitri sown the seeds of a possible future marriage?

Loukas Andreou. The man was a force to be reckoned with in the business arena…and the bedroom, if rumour had any basis in fact.

Old money. His great-grandfather, so the Andreou biographical details depicted on record revealed, had made his fortune in shipping. A fortune added to by each succeeding generation.

The Andreou consortium owned two Greek Islands, property, residences in most European cities, and there was the private cruiser, the Lear jet, the expensive cars…the women.

The media followed and tabled Loukas’ every move, embellishing the smallest fact with gossip.

Tall, well-built frame, dark hair, ruggedly attractive facial features…he unsettled her. Almost as if he saw far more than she wanted anyone to see.

There were some secrets she’d buried so deep, no one would uncover them. Ever.

‘How long has Loukas been aware of the contents of my father’s will?’

‘It’s something you’ll have to ask him.’

She would…at the first opportunity!

Alesha glimpsed the faint lift in the lawyer’s brow.

‘You have two clear options,’ he cautioned quietly. ‘Agree to the marriage…or disagree. I strongly advise you not to make a decision until you’ve spoken with Loukas Andreou.’

She stood and indicated the consultation had reached a conclusion. The lawyer accompanied her into the lobby and pressed the call button to summon a lift.

Alesha gritted her teeth together in a need to prevent the urge to scream as the lift transported her to ground. Why had her father conspired to do what he had?

Except she knew precisely why.

Hadn’t Dimitri’s own marriage to her mother been deemed a satisfactory liaison benefitting both families?

Love? If it happened, well and good. If it didn’t, affection, family was enough to make a contented life.

Surprisingly, her parents had shared a good marriage. A little volatile at times, she reflected, remembering Dimitri’s voice raised in anger over some relatively minor conflict with her mother. A woman who’d stood her own ground and given back as much in kind. Had they shared a grand passion? Perhaps. Great affection, certainly.

Alesha had wanted the grand passion, the love generated by two souls in perfect accord. She’d thought she’d found it with Seth Armitage…only to discover he’d very cleverly played a cruel game, and her marriage was nothing more than a travesty. One she escaped from almost as soon as the ink had dried on their marriage certificate.

Dimitri, to give him his due, hadn’t vented with I told you so. He’d been supportive, caring.

Yet it hurt unbearably that behind the scenes he’d been conspiring to cement her future and the future of Karsouli. Worse, somehow, was Loukas Andreou’s complicity.

To think she’d accepted his condolences, shared his presence during the funeral service, suffered his silent watchfulness…and he knew.

Dear Lord in heaven.

Was she the only one who’d been in ignorance?

At this very moment, was Loukas Andreou already putting plans in motion to assume prime position within Karsouli?

Or had he already done that, skilfully lining everything up to ensure any hiccups would be only minor? And if he had, how could she have missed seeing it? Surely there should have been something, even subtle, that would have alerted her attention?

Yet even on brief reflection, she failed to pinpoint any one thing.

The Sydney skyline was slightly hazy in the prelude to evening dusk, the harbour assuming a darker hue as ferries left a white churning tail as they transported some of the city’s workers to the northern suburb of Manly. Her apartment formed part of a large old double-storeyed home in fashionable Double Bay, whose interior had been completely restructured into four self-contained two-bedroom apartments. Modern state-of-the-art appliances blended beautifully with the deliberate styling of the previous century.

It had given Alesha immense pleasure to add furnishings to complement the era…large comfortable sofas, antique furniture, exquisite lamps and beautiful Oriental rugs, large squares and runners providing an attractive foil for the stained wooden floors.

Home, for the past two years. Hers, alone.

Something completely different from the modern house gifted to her on her wedding day. A home she’d legally tussled over with Seth, along with his claim for a half share, together with a half share of the assets she’d brought to the marriage.

A slight shudder scudded down the length of her spine as she garaged her car.

Seth, the handsome charmer who’d played so skilfully into her hands…and who, once vows legalized their union, with his ring on her finger, had dropped the pretence he’d so carefully fostered.

Even now with hindsight, she had trouble relating the charmer to the hard, calculating monster he became.

It’s gone, done and dusted, Alesha dismissed as she entered the spacious foyer and trod the stairs to her apartment.

She was whole again, mentally and physically. Dating wasn’t on her agenda…hadn’t been since she’d walked out on her marriage. She had friends…a trusted few whose company she valued.

Life, until her father’s death a week ago, had become settled, predictable, comfortable.

Now it was about to take a backwards flip into the uncertain, and instinct warned she’d need all her wits to cope with whatever lay ahead.

Marriage to Loukas Andreou?

If it happened, it would be on her terms.

She entered the apartment, ditched her bag, laptop, toed off her stilettos, then padded into the kitchen and filched chilled water from the refrigerator.

A leisurely shower, then she’d fix dinner…and plan her strategy.

Conditions, she elaborated as she shed her tailored suit, stripped to the skin and walked naked into the en suite.

A paper marriage; separate bedrooms; separate private lives. They’d work together in harmony; confer and coordinate their social diaries in order to entertain and grace the requisite social functions.

Alesha adjusted the water dial and stepped beneath the generous spray, collected delicately scented gardenia soap and attempted to match her marriage strategy to the man Dimitri had deliberately selected as her second husband.

‘Hell’s teeth,’ she muttered with unaccustomed ire. She didn’t want a husband!

On the occasions she’d shared Loukas’ company, he’d been attentive, an interesting conversationalist, knowledgeable, intelligent, focused.

Sexy, a silent imp added, in a leashed, almost primitive manner that hinted at much and promised more.

Alesha closed her eyes, then slowly opened them again.

Where had that come from?

Oh, for heaven’s sake, admit it. There had been a time when she’d wondered what it would be like to have his mouth close over her own, and savour, taste…persuade. To lean in against his body and absorb his strength, and discover…what? Attraction, more?

She’d caught a sense of it, become fascinated by him, even curious…aware he met with her parents’ approval. A man of independent wealth and substance. Attentive, watchful, almost waiting, she reflected. For what? For her to make the first move?

Except she hadn’t. Instinctively aware if she did, there would be no going back.

Perhaps, she allowed in retrospect, Dimitri had begun to hope, to plan…even then.

Except Seth had already been on the scene, sweeping her off her feet with glib words and false promises. Words and promises she had believed to be genuine, in spite of her parents’ caution.

From beautiful to battered bride in the space of a heartbeat…okay, weeks, Alesha corrected grimly as she closed the water dial, caught up a towel and wrapped it round her slender curves.

Leading, she admitted, to the most painful months of her life as she had weathered the aftermath, regained her self-respect…dammit, her very identity.

Together with a resolve never to allow anyone to get close enough to earn her personal trust again. A fact she’d set down in stone, with a frozen heart and a cool, determined brain.

The evening stretched ahead, and one she’d choose to fill after a light meal with a few hours spent on her laptop, catch the late news on television…then bed.

It seemed like a plan, albeit a familiar one as she swept the length of her hair into a careless knot, donned underwear before adding comfortable jeans and a singlet top.

The message light was blinking on her answering machine as she entered the kitchen, and she crossed to the servery, took up a pen, pulled the message pad forward and pressed the play button.

“Alesha. Loukas Andreou.” His voice was deep, husky, with a slight accented inflection that curled round her nerve-ends and tugged a little. It wasn’t a feeling she coveted, and she drew in a calming breath as she noted down the number he recited. “Call me.”

A soft curse emerged from her lips, and she rolled her eyes in silent self-castigation. He wasn’t wasting any time.

So make the call. The sooner she dealt with him, the better.

He picked up on the third ring. ‘Andreou.’

‘Alesha,’ she informed him matter-of-factly.

‘Have you eaten?’

‘I’m about to.’ It would take only minutes to assemble a salad and enjoy her solitary meal. ‘Why?’

‘I’ll collect you in ten minutes.’

Who does he think he is? Don’t go there.

‘If you’re issuing an invitation,’ she managed silkily, ‘it’s polite to request, not demand.’

‘I’ll make a note of it.’

Was there a smidgen of mild amusement apparent in his response?

‘Ten minutes.’ He cut the connection, and left her silently fuming and on the verge of calling back to insist she meet him at a nominated venue.

Except it would seem petty, and not the action of a woman in control. Or one determined to treat this meeting with prosaic common sense.

There was the need to change. Comfortable well-worn jeans, a casual top, her dark hair caught in a careless knot and anchored there with a large clip, bare feet, and no make-up didn’t comprise fitting attire in which to dine out.

There was a part of her that felt inclined to slip her feet into trainers, collect her car keys, wallet, and leave.

Except her absence wouldn’t achieve a thing.

So, get over it, she admonished silently as she changed into tailored trousers and a buttoned blouse. She added a dash of colour to her lips, fixed her hair, then selected a fashionable jacket and slid her feet into killer heels.

Her intercom buzzed as she collected a clutch purse, and she picked up, clarified Loukas Andreou’s image on the security monitor, then uttered a brisk—‘I’m on my way down.’

His height and breadth of shoulder seemed vaguely intimidating, his hard, strong-boned facial features arresting in the early evening light. Black tailored trousers, a white shirt unbuttoned at the neck, and a black butter-soft leather jacket lent a casual sophisticated look…one she knew to be deceiving, given the power he wielded in the business arena.

‘Loukas.’ Her greeting was polite, almost formal as dark eyes seared her own, and for a moment she experienced the strangest feeling that time stood still. Then it was gone.

‘Shall we get this over and done with?’

Was that a faint edge of humour apparent, or simply a trick of the light? She couldn’t be sure in the brief instant before he stood to one side and indicated the black Aston Martin parked in the forecourt.

She walked at his side to the car, aware of his close proximity as he opened the passenger door and saw her seated before crossing to slip in behind the wheel.

There was an unwanted sense of nervousness she strove hard to hide as he fired the engine and eased the powerful car onto the road.

A shared meal, during which she’d state her perspective, negotiate…and hopefully resolve the terms of Dimitri’s will to their mutual satisfaction.

In a short space of time Loukas drew the Aston Martin to a halt at the entrance to the Ritz-Carlton hotel and organized valet parking.

Pleasant choice, Alesha approved, having dined in the restaurant on a few occasions.

Except once inside the foyer Loukas indicated the lift.

‘My suite will afford us some privacy.’

Her nerve-ends coiled in painful protest at the thought of being alone with him. ‘I’d prefer the restaurant.’

‘And risk public scrutiny?’ he elaborated quietly. ‘Possibly be overheard or photographed discussing a private matter?’

The fact that he was right didn’t help much. Speculation would run rife soon enough when Loukas Andreou’s continued presence in Sydney was noted. Especially when his extensive shareholding in Karsouli became known.

There was little she could do but acquiesce, albeit with some reluctance, duly observed, she noted as she bore Loukas’ slightly hooded gaze as they rode the lift to his designated floor.

You can do this, a silent voice bade as she watched Loukas swipe a card and usher her into his suite. Loukas had her late father’s trust. Otherwise Dimitri would never have structured his will the way he had.

Would he?

Dear God, how would she know…for sure?

With both parents gone, she had become very selective in whom she chose to confide in. Not even Lacey, a dear friend from childhood, knew everything about her first marriage. Some details were too personal…too hurtful to divulge.

‘Relax,’ Loukas drawled. ‘I’m not about to hit on you.’

Alesha directed him a level look. ‘I would deal with it if you did.’ Hadn’t she trained hard to effectively do so?

He shrugged out of his jacket, tossed it onto the large king-size bed, then he undid the cuffs on his shirt and turned them back twice, revealing muscular forearms sprinkled with dark hair.

‘Can I take your jacket?’

‘I’m fine, thanks.’

‘Why don’t you take a seat?’ He indicated a comfortable chair. ‘Would you like something to drink?’

‘Can we pass on the social niceties and go straight to the matter at hand?’

He regarded her carefully for several long seconds, and she glimpsed a muscle tighten at the edge of his jaw.

‘By all means,’ he concurred with deliberate indolence. ‘Then we’ll eat.’

Alesha was so tempted to vent. Anger had built to a point where throwing a hissy fit would at least relieve some of her angst. Yet, conversely, it was probably exactly what he expected of her.

‘The terms of my father’s will are unconscionable.’

He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘Apropos the marriage clause?’

‘You agree with it?’ Her eyes widened measurably. ‘What manner of man are you?’

‘One who prefers to embark on marriage with an honest foundation at its base.’

The look she gave him should have shrivelled him on the spot. Except it had no effect whatsoever.

‘Oh…please. Let’s not forget the primary focus.’

‘Karsouli?’

Alesha allowed herself a faintly bitter smile. ‘Dimitri’s trump card.’

Loukas offered a thoughtful look. ‘Perhaps.’

She stilled, suddenly alert. ‘What are you saying?’

‘Dimitri made a few errors in financial judgement in recent months.’

Her shock was real and barely masked. ‘I don’t believe you.’

‘The global economic climate worked against him, so too did his failing health.’

Failing health? ‘He was killed in a car accident.’

Loukas’ gaze didn’t waver. ‘Your father risked heart failure unless he agreed to undergo heart transplant surgery. He refused, and bartered a deal with me to safeguard Karsouli.’ He waited a beat. ‘And you.’

No. The word echoed as a silent scream, and the blood chilled in her veins.

Oh, dear God.

‘Karsouli needed a large injection of cash in order to remain solvent.’

‘How much?’ The demand almost choked her.

‘Half a billion dollars.’

That much?

Selling off a twenty-five-per-cent share represented the injection of cash. The gift via Dimitri’s will, conditional on marriage, would have been a sufficiently attractive enticement.

Karsouli would survive and flourish beneath Loukas Andreou’s skilled leadership.

Of which she would become a joint partner and director. There was just one major snag…In order to achieve both, she had to agree to marry Loukas Andreou.

Two pluses versus one minus.

Alesha took a deep calming breath…not that it had any effect. ‘I’ll need to verify those facts.’

‘Of course. I have certified copies of relevant documentation for you to peruse.’

Somehow she didn’t expect any less of him. Even given the advantage of his father’s success, Loukas appeared very much an achiever determined to forge his own destiny, both professionally and personally.

She accepted the paperwork, took time to read and absorb the data, aware of a sinking heart with every page.

The slim hope there might be a mistake disappeared as she was forced to face the inevitable.

With care she placed the papers onto the table, then met his hooded gaze. ‘Why did you sanction Dimitri’s terms?’

One eyebrow lifted. ‘The truth? His request coincided with a promise I had made to my own father to marry and provide an heir.’

‘How noble,’ Alesha accorded sweetly. ‘To sacrifice yourself out of duty and family loyalty.’ She sharpened a figurative barb. ‘Were none of the many women who attach themselves to you suitable wife material?’

His features assumed musing cynicism. ‘No.’

‘What if I choose to contest the marriage clause?’

His eyes speared her own, dark with dangerous intent, and belying the quiet purpose in his voice.

‘Should you refuse, the purchase will fall through. I’ll sell the twenty-five-per-cent shares comprising Dimitri’s bequest, and you will be placed in an invidious financial position.’

Forced to take on a partner and possibly face a takeover bid. Thereby losing everything her father had achieved. All she’d lived and breathed for as long as she could remember.

Anger, resentment, dammit—grief, welled up inside. So many emotions…consuming, invasive, and in that moment uncontrolled.

She stood and turned towards the door. ‘Go to hell.’

Chapter Two

‘I SUGGEST you think before you walk out that door,’ Loukas cautioned with dangerous quietness. ‘Or the hell you’d consign me to will be your own.’

His meaning was icily clear, and had a sobering effect.

Pride and anger held no place in Dimitri’s diabolical scheme.

Walk…and Alesha would lose the one thing she considered to be the most important entity in her life.

Could she trust Loukas? Dear heaven. If not him…who?

At least he had a vested interest in Karsouli; he possessed the skill and expertise to assume dual directorship; add considerable financial resources…

It was no contest.

Except she was damned if she’d give in easily.

For the space of a few seconds she closed her eyes, then opened them again, took a deep calming breath and turned slowly to face him.

There was an inherent strength apparent, an entity that went deep beneath the surface. An indomitable sense of power that made him both an invaluable ally and feared adversary.

But as a husband? Lover?

An instant recall of what she’d suffered at Seth’s hands sent apprehension feathering her spine.

Don’t go there.

One man’s manic proclivities were not those of all men.

Unbidden, her teeth worried the inner fullness of her lower lip.

Yet how could she know for sure?

Seth had played the perfect part as loving fiancé, adoring new husband…until she had refused to concede to his demands.

A sudden bleakness clouded her eyes. A shadow of pain which appeared so fleetingly Loukas almost missed it, and his gaze narrowed.

‘If the deal didn’t include marriage, I’d be ecstatic.’

‘Nevertheless, it does.’

‘Unfortunately.’

On some level she got the loyalty thing. Matchmaking suitable partners from two eminently suitable families. A little devious manipulation added to the mix, and voilà…the convenient marriage scenario intended to safeguard the family fortunes and ensure the continuation of a dynasty.

‘Yes or no, Alesha.’ His expression was unreadable, his eyes dark and unwavering as they regarded her.

It had to be yes. There was no way she could countenance Karsouli slipping ignominiously between the cracks to disappear in the belly of iniquity.

‘I have no choice but to agree, subject to certain conditions.’

There was a strength apparent in her demeanour, a determination he could only admire given she’d taken a king-hit about the true state of her father’s corporation.

‘Name them.’ His voice held a silkiness she chose to ignore.

‘I retain my position in Karsouli.’

Loukas inclined his head in agreement. ‘Naturally.’

Now for the cruncher. ‘A separate suite of rooms in whatever home we share.’

His gaze narrowed. ‘Your reason being?’

She kept her eyes steady on his. ‘A personal preference.’

‘Based on?’

‘A need for my own space.’

He regarded her in silence for several timeless seconds. ‘The same bedroom, separate beds.’ He waited a beat. ‘Until you feel comfortable sharing mine.’

As if that were going to happen any time soon. ‘It isn’t fair you get to dictate all the terms.’

‘Be grateful I’ve conceded one of them.’

But not for long. Apprehension rose like a spectre, and for one wild moment she wondered at her sanity in aligning herself with a man such as him.

‘So, on that basis, I should fawn at your feet and express undying gratitude?’

A faint quirk lifted the corner of his mouth. ‘For saving Karsouli?’

‘Of course.’ Her response held a certain dryness that didn’t fool him in the slightest.

Honesty, at a cost. With no attempt to hide it beneath any number of platitudes. Strength and a degree of fragility, he mused, made for an intriguing mix.

Loukas retrieved the in-room dining menu, opened it at the appropriate page and handed it to her. ‘Choose what you’d like, and I’ll order dinner.’

Food? The mere thought of ingesting anything was enough to send her stomach into immediate revolt.

‘I’m not hungry.’ What was more, she wanted out of here. Away from this forceful man who held her fate in his hands.

She caught up her bag and slung the strap over one shoulder. ‘I should leave.’

His eyes seared hers. ‘We’re not done.’

She took the few steps to move past him, only to come to a halt mere inches from where he stood. ‘Yes, we are.’

‘We’ll share a meal, discuss wedding arrangements and relevant details, then I’ll return you to your apartment.’

Alesha tilted her head a little. ‘So…sit down, be quiet, and bow my head in polite servitude?’

She could almost swear she caught a faint gleam of humour on his handsome face, but then it was gone. ‘I doubt the latter two form part of your repertoire.’

‘How perceptive of you.’ Sweet, she could do sweet, although it was impossible he missed the faint edge apparent in her voice.

Loukas offered her the menu. ‘Choose, Alesha. Or I’ll order for you.’

A starter would be all she could manage, and she selected one, then attempted to tune out as he picked up the phone.

A difficult feat, when the fine edge of awareness curled around her nerve-ends and heightened the tension she experienced in his presence.

A sophisticated strategist, he bore the persona of a man well versed in the ways of humankind, with the ability to see through any deliberate orchestration.

Had anyone tested his control…and escaped unscathed?

Stupid question. Why even go there? Loukas Andreou was an entity unto himself…indomitable, inviolate, and utterly ruthless.

But what of the essence of the man…as a friend, lover, husband? Would he be capable of gifting a degree of affection? Caring?

Or would she merely become a trophy wife…soothed by an enviable lifestyle and expensive gifts? Her life a mere facsimile?

The question had to be, was retaining Karsouli worth a marriage she didn’t want to a man who placed financial assets above all else?

Get over yourself, she denounced in silent chastisement. You thought you had love first time round, only to discover to your cost that it was nothing more than a nebulous dream.

At least marriage to Loukas would be unclouded by sentiment. A business arrangement she entered into with her eyes wide open…nothing more, nothing less.

Their meal, when it arrived, was beautifully presented, although Alesha barely tasted a thing as she forked morsels of food with mechanical precision.

‘I have the application for a special licence,’ Loukas informed her as they shared coffee. ‘It requires your signature. I foresee the marriage ceremony going ahead on Friday.’

‘This Friday?’

His eyes seared her own. ‘Is that a problem?’

You’re joking, right?

‘Why the hurry?’ she managed, and quelled the sudden onset of nerves playing havoc with her stomach as he queried reasonably,

‘Why delay?’

Sure, and she was ready for this?

Take a reality check. A week, a month—even a year down the track, and she’d still never be ready to embark on another marriage.

Yet ever present was the instinctive knowledge there would be no second chance with Loukas if she reneged.

‘Give me the application and a pen.’

She attached her signature with a sense of fatalism, then she reached for her shoulder bag, slid the strap over one shoulder and purposely made for the door. ‘I’ll call a taxi.’

Loukas stood, filched his jacket from the back of the chair, then he hooked it over one shoulder and reached the door ahead of her.

Okay, he could accompany her to the lift, except when it had been summoned he accompanied her into the electronic cubicle.

Courtesy was a fine thing, she acknowledged as they reached the ground floor, and she turned towards him prior to moving across the foyer. ‘Goodnight.’

Without a further word she crossed to the concierge desk and made a polite but firm request, which was negated by Loukas’ presence.

‘The lady is with me,’ he informed the concierge, and followed it with a request for his car to be brought up from valet parking.

Alesha opened her mouth to deny it, only for Loukas to direct her a piercing look. ‘Don’t argue.’

‘There’s no need—’

‘Yes, there is.’

It was ridiculous, and her eyes flashed dark fire before she lowered her lashes to hide her anger at his high-handedness.

‘Did you have to behave like a dictatorial ass?’ Alesha demanded the instant he eased the sleek Aston Martin out onto the street.

‘That’s a first.’ His drawled comment held a tinge of humour she chose to ignore.

‘So, bite me.’

‘Aren’t you in the least concerned I might bite back?’

She was unprepared for the faint sensation feathering over the surface of her skin as it stirred something deep inside she had no wish to disturb.

She didn’t offer so much as a word during the short drive to her apartment, and she reached for the door-clasp the instant the car slid to a halt at the kerb.

Cool, polite words born from instilled good manners emerged from her lips. ‘Thanks for the ride.’

She didn’t wait for his acknowledgment, nor did she look back as she swiped her card at the main entry and hurried into the foyer.

It was a relief to enter her apartment, tend to the lock and security system.

Home. A place uniquely hers, where she felt safe, secure.

But not for long, a tiny voice taunted. All too soon her life…everything would change. She slipped off her stilettos, then discarded her jacket. It wasn’t late, and she was too tense to consider retiring to bed.

Television, watching a DVD, or work were three options, and she retreated to her bedroom, discarded her clothes and donned cotton sleep trousers and a singlet top before cleansing off her make-up. Then she slotted in a DVD and settled into a comfortable chair with the remote.

It was almost midnight when the credits rolled, and she switched everything off, then made her way to bed…surprisingly to sleep until the alarm roused her early next morning.

Maintaining a routine gave focus to the day, and Alesha donned sweats, slid her feet into trainers, tied back her hair, exited the apartment building and broke into a steady jog en route to a local gym.

An hour’s workout helped diminish her stress levels, and she returned home with renewed vigour to shower, breakfast, then dress for work.

The executive power suit, minimum jewellery, hair smoothed into an upswept style, a light touch with make-up, killer heels…and she was good to go.

Laptop, briefcase, shoulder bag…check.

Minutes later she slid behind the wheel of her silver BMW, engaged the engine, then made her way to the main arterial road leading into the city.

Traffic at this hour was heavy, and making it through electronically controlled intersections without at least two enforced stops was rare.

Consequently it was almost eight when Alesha took the lift from the basement parking area to a high floor in the tall modern building housing the Karsouli Corporation.

A luxurious office suite with prime views over the inner harbour, expensive carpeting, sparkling glass, executive furniture and expensive works of art adorning the walls.

Dimitri had enjoyed displaying the acquisitions earned by his success. Ongoing consultations with a prominent interior decorator ensured ostentatious didn’t figure in the scheme of things.

Alesha didn’t want anything to change. In fact, she’d insist on it. Karsouli would remain Karsouli in honour of her father’s memory, his years of hard work.

‘Good morning.’ Her smile held genuine warmth as she passed through Reception and trod the wide passageway leading to her office.

A greeting she repeated as her PA rose from behind a desk with the day’s scheduling in hand.

‘Mr Andreou requests your presence a.s.a.p. An executive meeting will be chaired by Mr Andreou at ten in the conference room. Department heads are currently being advised. I’ve noted everything in your diary, and printed a copy for your perusal.’

Alesha took the offered schedule, skimmed it, and her eyes widened fractionally.

Loukas was wasting no time in setting several contingency plans in motion.

‘Thanks, Anne. You can alert Mr Andreou I’ll be with him in ten minutes.’

‘I understand there is some urgency to his request.’

Sufficient for Anne to issue the caution? All hail the new chief? Except the partnership with Loukas was equal. And damned if she’d drop everything and rush to his bidding!

‘Ten minutes, Anne.’

She took every one of them before entering the large office Dimitri had occupied for as long as she could remember…and tamped down the faint resentment she experienced at seeing Loukas seated behind her father’s desk.

‘You wanted to see me?’ The polite smile she summoned didn’t reach her eyes as Loukas rose to his feet and moved forward to close the door behind her.

An action that sent the nerves in her stomach into a tangled knot.

He indicated a leather chair. ‘Take a seat.’ Whereupon he crossed to the desk to lean one hip against its edge.

She continued to stand. ‘I hope this won’t take long.’

‘You’d have preferred a memo relaying I’m due in Melbourne late this afternoon to head an emergency meeting before flying on to Adelaide, then the Gold Coast?’

‘You require my input?’

‘Personally or professionally?’

A trick question? ‘Professionally, of course.’

Of course. His eyes narrowed a little as he took in the red power suit, the killer heels, the upswept hair, and his fingers itched to loosen the pins holding the elegantly contrived knot in place.

Her choice of apparel made a statement, one she’d deliberately sought to portray, he noted silently. And wondered why she’d thought it necessary.

Because she felt threatened by him? Perhaps she had cause, professionally.

‘The current state of Karsouli requires swift action, and formal meetings with each of the men who head the corporation’s three out-of-state offices are imperative. Personally, not via conference call.’

Alesha didn’t give him the satisfaction of verbally agreeing with him. ‘When will you be back?’

‘Late Thursday evening.’

‘I trust you’ll keep me posted. Is that all?’

One eyebrow quirked a little. ‘There’s the matter of our wedding details.’

Her stomach executed a painful somersault, and it took considerable effort to remain calm. ‘Email me the time and venue.’

‘Wolseley Road, Point Piper.’ He offered the number. ‘Friday, four o’clock in the afternoon.’

A slight frown creased her forehead. ‘That’s a private residence.’ Situated amongst Sydney’s most expensive real estate.

‘My home, which is currently in the final stages of redecoration.’

Sufficient money could achieve almost anything…and obviously had. It explained his preference for temporary hotel accommodation.

‘There’s also the legalities attached to the union,’ Loukas relayed smoothly. ‘We have an appointment at three-thirty this afternoon to tend to the necessary paperwork.’

Ensuring everything was neatly tied together before he flew out to Melbourne, she perceived, and attempted to quell the feeling she’d boarded a runaway train from which escape would involve irreparable damage to life and limb.

‘Fine.’

‘There’s nothing you want to add?’

A whole heap in verbal castigation…none of which would do any good! Instead, she managed a stunningly sweet smile. ‘Not at this moment.’

She turned and made for the door, only to discover he was there before her, and she attempted to ignore his close proximity, the musky tang of his cologne, the sheer sensuality he managed to exude without any seeming effort at all.

Assuring herself she was immune didn’t quite cut it. Nor did likening him to all men.

Loukas Andreou stood alone, a male entity that defied categorization.

So where did that leave her?

Right now…out of here!

‘Ten in the conference room,’ Loukas reminded her silkily as she exited the room.

A meeting he chaired with the type of ruthless strategy that left no room for doubt his proposed restructuring of Karsouli would be immediate and far-reaching.

Details were provided in individual folders placed in front of the attending executives, who were each given forty-eight hours in which to submit approval, reservations…or otherwise.

It took considerable effort on Alesha’s part to contain her resentment and present a neutral front when she wanted to silently rage at his high-handedness.

She managed it, just, until Loukas called the meeting to a close, and she bore the carefully polite glances as the executive staff filed past her as they exited the room.

Questions would follow by the long-serving personnel, concern expressed by those whose tenure was more recent…and she’d do her best with damage control.

But now she had a bone to pick with the self-appointed man in control.

With care she closed the door and crossed to where Loukas stood assembling paperwork into his briefcase.

‘How dare you initiate changes without consulting me?’

She resembled a pocket virago, Loukas noted. Dark eyes flashed with anger as she sent him a venomous glare. ‘My father—’

‘Allowed his emotions to rule, and didn’t keep you apprised of the reality.’

‘You can’t just terminate—’

‘Dimitri kept performance details on file of every employee.’ He handed her a memory stick. ‘Study them in my absence, together with my recommendations, and we’ll confer on my return.’

‘And if I don’t agree?’

‘We’ll discuss it.’

‘We will?’ The fine edge of sarcasm was evident. ‘Should I express gratitude at being slotted into your busy schedule?’

His cellphone beeped and he checked the screen. ‘I need to take this call. Three-thirty, Alesha. My office.’

The temptation to throw something at him was uppermost, and she deliberately held his dark gaze, glimpsed his recognition of her intent, together with his silent threat of retribution.

For a timeless few seconds the air between them pulsed with electricity, a perilous force so overwhelming she almost forgot to breathe.

Then he activated the call, effectively dismissing her.

Panache, control, she possessed both, and she turned away from him and exited the room, closing the door with an imperceptible click behind her, when she would have delighted in slamming it. Except the door was carefully weighted to avoid anything other than a smooth, almost silent action.

She wanted badly to vent, and she would the moment she had him alone, she promised as she crossed to her office.

Three-thirty couldn’t appear soon enough!

Chapter Three

ALESHA spent what remained of the morning attending to the immediate business at hand, and chose to have her PA send out for a chicken and salad sandwich with mayo on rye and a double-strength latte.

Something that became a working lunch eaten at her desk as she accessed computer data, inserted reference notations, took phone calls and instructed Anne to clear an hour between three-thirty and four-thirty.

The adherence to punctuality was something Alesha considered important…personally, and professionally. And this was business, she qualified as she allowed time to freshen up before presenting herself at Dimitri’s…dammit, Loukas’ office on time.

He stood close to the plate-glass window with its cityscape view of the inner harbour, cellphone at his ear in quiet conversation as he gestured she take a seat.

Contrarily she opted to remain standing, and she caught his faint gleam of amusement as he continued conversing in French…with a woman, from the light tone of his voice.

A lover? Past or present? Certainly a close friend.

She told herself she didn’t care…and, in truth, she didn’t. So how did she explain the sudden warmth flooding her veins, the slow invidious curling sensation deep within?

Because she envied the woman his affectionate attention?

Oh, please. Get real. She no more wanted another man in her life than she wanted to fly over the moon.

Especially not this man. Impressive, too powerful, too much.

A slight shiver feathered the length of her spine. Way too much on a personal level.

Why not call it as it was? The forceful Greek exuded a magnetic sexuality that verged close to the primitive.

The sensual promise was there, almost a tangible entity, and for one wild moment she wondered what it would be like to be ravished beneath his hands, his mouth…dear God, his possession.

Soul-destroying. Utterly. Completely.

Enough already, she upbraided silently. Focus on the here and now.

Dimitri’s office had undergone a few changes. State-of-theart electronic technology replaced the standard desktop her father had preferred, several files were stacked at the end of the desk, an MP3 player. Tidy, but very much the workspace of a busy man.

‘Shall we leave?’

Alesha cast Loukas a deceptively cool glance as he pocketed his cellphone, collected a briefcase, laptop, and indicated she precede him from the room.

‘I’ll meet you at the lawyer’s office,’ she indicated as the lift transported them down to the underground parking area.

‘We’ll go together in my car.’

‘It might be easier if I follow you.’

The lift doors slid open and Loukas shot her an analytical look as they entered the concrete cavern. ‘Are you determined to debate me on every issue?’

The air sizzled with a tension she refused to define. She should cease and desist, but there was a dangerous imp sitting on her shoulder bent on mischief and mayhem.

‘My apologies.’ She offered him a sweet smile. ‘I tend to forget most women merely exist to do your bidding.’

‘But not you.’ His drawled response held a tinge of humour.

‘No,’ she managed with a degree of dry mockery. ‘However, in this instance I’ll concede and get a taxi back to the office when we’re done.’

They reached the Aston Martin and he unsecured the locking mechanism to the doors, the trunk, deposited his briefcase and laptop, then closed the trunk. ‘I’ll drop you off before I continue on to the airport.’

‘It’s out of your way.’

‘Get in the car, Alesha.’ His voice held a silky quality that boded ill for further argument.

She slid into the passenger seat and waited until he moved in behind the wheel before posing with deliberate sweetness, ‘Are you always so appallingly arrogant?’

He ignited the engine. ‘Whenever the occasion demands.’

Inner-city traffic and numerous electronically-controlled intersections ensured it took fifteen minutes to cross town, a further five to find a parking bay beneath the lawyer’s office building.

Alesha was conscious of Loukas’ studied look as he jabbed the call-button summoning the lift, and she tilted her head a little as she held his gaze.

‘What?’ she challenged. ‘My mascara is smudged? Too much bronzing powder or not enough?’

‘Faultless.’ His silky drawl held a tinge of amusement as the lift drew to a smooth halt.

‘While you resemble the quintessential male,’ she responded an instant before she preceded him into the spacious reception area.

Within a very short space of time she’d sign documentation detailing precise legalese pertaining to the terms outlined in Dimitri’s will. A prenup covering every known contingency.

Copies of which she’d already perused.

So why now were the nerves in her stomach tying themselves in knots?

Because each step she took brought her closer to a marriage she didn’t want. To a man she had no choice but to trust on every level.

Sure, she could opt out. Except losing Karsouli was too heavy a penalty to pay.

Consequently she listened to the lawyer’s clarification, the reassurance he felt beholden to relay.

When he was done, she took up a proffered pen, signed where indicated, then solemnly watched as Loukas attached his signature.

‘I consider it an honour to act as a witness to your marriage on Friday. Dimitri would be very pleased with this outcome.’

Alesha managed a faint smile at the lawyer’s words.

What about her? Didn’t she count? Or was she merely a pawn in a diabolical game?

Don’t go there. It’s done.

Almost.

Next step…marriage.

She preceded Loukas into the lift and pressed the ‘ground’ button on the instrument panel.

He stood too close as he chose ‘basement’, and when they reached street level he merely bypassed her command and sent the lift down.

Her mouth tightened and she cast him a fulminating glare…which had no effect whatsoever.

‘Give it up,’ Loukas advised as the lift doors slid open and he indicated the black Aston Martin.

He waited until they were both seated before engaging the engine. ‘Can I leave the choice of second witness with you?’

There was only one person she’d consider asking. Lacey Pattison, lifelong friend and trusted confidante who had, ironically, acted as chief bridesmaid at her first wedding. ‘Yes.’

Was there such a thing as the sound of silence? If so, it seemed to hang heavy in the car’s interior as he negotiated city traffic before easing the car into the kerb adjacent the office tower housing Karsouli.

‘You have my cellphone number if you have any concerns.’

She met his dark gaze with equanimity. ‘Is this where I wish you a safe flight?’

The edge of his mouth quirked a little. ‘I’ll be in touch Thursday evening.’

‘I might be otherwise engaged with a male stripper at a very private “hen” party.’ As if.

‘In which case, have fun.’

That was it? No macho follow-up?

‘Not quite.’

He read minds?

The next instant he leant forward and took her mouth with his own in a slow evocative kiss that drained the breath from her body…and then some.

There was no demand, just a sense of intent…his.

Then he straightened, and his eyes narrowed at her faintly dazed expression, the sudden paleness of her cheeks.

In one fluid movement she released her seat belt, caught up her bag and slid out from the passenger seat before crossing to the building’s foyer without so much as a backward glance.

It was only as she rode the lift that she permitted herself to reflect.

The feel of his mouth on her own lingered, and she pressed light fingers to her lips.

What was that?

No matter how she viewed it, there had been nothing to prepare her for the unexpected sensuality evident…or her reaction.

The unbidden need to deepen the kiss was merely a transitory figment of her imagination, she dismissed as she entered Reception and moved into her office.

The phone call to Lacey resulted in a barrage of rapid-fire questions, to which only truthful answers would suffice.

‘Okay,’ Lacey said with deliberate calm. ‘We’ve covered the who, why, when and where. I’ve done the ohmigod thing. Now it’s down to basics. What are you going to wear?’

‘I’m sure there’s something suitable in my wardrobe.’

‘We’ll go shopping tomorrow afternoon.’

‘Lacey—no.’

‘Yes. Double Bay.’ She named a place. ‘I’ll be there at three.’

‘I don’t finish until five.’

‘You’re the boss. Leave early.’

‘You’re impossible.’

‘Yes, I know. That’s why I’m your friend. Three, Alesha. Don’t be late. We have a lot of ground to cover in a short time.’

She opened her mouth to protest, except the faint click indicated Lacey had already hung up.

The next morning Alesha went into the office early, declined a lunch break and collected Lacey mid-afternoon to shop for the dress.

‘Coffee first, double shot of caffeine, double sugar,’ Alesha determined as Lacey indicated one of a few streets in exclusive Double Bay where boutiques offered designer wear with exorbitant price tags.

‘Darling, no.’ Lacey gave her a don’t mess with me look Alesha recognized from old. ‘Dress first, coffee later.’

‘I need sustenance.’

‘Delaying tactics,’ Lacey dismissed. ‘We’re shopping for your wedding dress. Something that cannot be rushed. We need to look.’

‘One boutique,’ Alesha stated firmly. ‘I choose, try it on, present plastic, we leave.’

Lacey’s smile was pure imp dressed in steel. ‘You think?’

Alesha achieved an expressive eye-roll. ‘I knew inviting you was asking for trouble.’

‘Precisely why you displayed some sense,’ came the airy response. ‘Chill,’ her friend commanded as they paused outside a small boutique with one model displayed in the window. ‘Let’s go inspect the merchandise, shall we?’

She uttered an expressive sigh. ‘I don’t think—’

‘You don’t need to think while I’m here to advise and guide.’

‘That’s what concerns me.’

The vendeuse greeted them with refined politeness, whereupon Lacey launched into her verbal spiel.

‘White, of course.’

‘Ivory,’ Alesha corrected.

‘Full-length,’ Lacey insisted.

‘Mid-calf.’

‘Stunning.’

She did the eye-roll thing. ‘Simple.’

‘Perhaps it would help if you tell me something about the venue, the reception, the number of guests,’ the vendeuse suggested.

‘A civil ceremony held in a private home with two witnesses.’

‘Ah. I see.’ There was a faint click of the fingers as she accurately appraised Alesha’s slim curves. ‘I think I can offer you something suitable.’

The design was fine, the colour was not.

‘It’s a very pale blush.’

‘Thank you, but no.’

The second boutique had the perfect gown, Chanel…except it only came in black. Alesha considered, only to be firmly outvoted by Lacey. ‘You are not getting married in black.’

‘Hey, whose wedding is this, anyway?’

‘Yours, and just because it’s not traditional, doesn’t mean we won’t do it right. Agreed?’

Lacey had a point. ‘Coffee,’ Alesha insisted.

‘Soon, promise. Let’s go.’

‘Heaven forbid…where? I thought we had a one-stop deal.’

Lacey took hold of her arm and led the way to the car.

‘Get in and drive.’

‘It had better be good.’

Doing it right was achieved in a beautiful little boutique that sold vintage designer gear. Gorgeous gowns in cream, ivory…and Alesha sighed as she caught sight of sheer perfection. A slim-fitting gown in layered ivory and pale champagne silk, accented by a fine pin-tucking edged with narrow lace.

‘Delicate strappy sandals with killer heels,’ Lacey advised. ‘Minimum jewellery, just diamond ear-studs. Maybe a bracelet.’

Alesha removed the gown, handed it to the sales person, endeavoured not to blink at the price, presented plastic and minutes later walked from the shop with a signature-emblazoned glossy carry-bag.

‘Strappy sandals,’ Lacey insisted. ‘Then we get to have coffee. OK?’

‘Thanks.’ She gave her friend an impulsive heartfelt hug. ‘I couldn’t have done this without you.’

A light bubbling laugh emerged as Lacey initiated a high-five gesture. ‘Who else, when we’ve been friends since for ever?’

‘Sisters in every way but by blood.’ There for each other, the first one to call.

It was later as they sat sharing coffee that Lacey adopted a serious expression. ‘You so deserve to be happy.’

Alesha smiled. ‘Wisdom over double-shot lattes?’

‘Loukas is a good guy.’

She slanted an eyebrow. ‘And you know this…because?’

‘I’ve met him, remember? He made a lasting impression.’

Alesha took time to sip her coffee. ‘That’s supposed to be reassurance?’

‘He’s hot. Those eyes. That mouth.’ Lacey gave a lascivious sigh. ‘Yum…and then some.’

‘Yum?’ she queried with quizzical amusement.

‘Uh-huh.’

A wicked smile widened her lips. ‘I think you need food. Plus, I owe you, big time. Let’s do dinner…my treat.’

Lacey laughed with delight. ‘Where?’

‘Your choice.’

‘Reckless. Definitely reckless.’ Lacey allowed a few seconds’ deliberation. ‘Italian. There’s this little restaurant that serves divine pasta to die for. It’s the other side of town.’

Alesha rose to her feet and paid the tab. ‘Let’s go.’

It became a wonderfully relaxing few hours as they enjoyed fine food, a glass of wine, reminisced and laughed.

True friendship was something to be treasured, and Alesha entered her apartment at evening’s end with a lighter heart.

The familiar nightmare came out of nowhere in the early pre-dawn hours, vivid, almost live in its intensity, and she woke breathing hard, her body soaked with sweat.

She reached for the bedside lamp and the room glowed with light.

Dear God.

She lifted a hand to her face, almost expecting in that instant to feel the heat, the swelling, the pain. Except her cheeks were cool, and for several long moments she worked at slowing her breathing, her rapidly beating pulse.

A silent voice prompted…You’re fine.

In the here and now…and alone.

With one smooth movement she cast aside the covers and padded out to the kitchen, brewed tea, then she subsided into a comfortable chair and channel-surfed until she found a comedy and didn’t move until the dawn gradually lightened the sky from indigo to pearl grey.

Then she hit the shower and dressed. Breakfast was yoghurt and fruit with a reviving shot of caffeine, before she fixed her make-up, gathered her laptop, bag, keys, and drove into the city.

Focus, concentrate on the day, Alesha urged as she rode the lift to the high floor housing Karsouli.

As days went, this one soon became a doozy, with her PA calling in sick, the replacement hesitant to take any initiative, minor delays resulting therefrom, and a laptop that decided to crash at a crucial moment. Fortunately the auto-save function ensured only a small amount of data was lost, but it took time to get the system up and running again…time that became increasingly scarce as the day progressed.

Consequently she skipped lunch, alternated coffee with bottled water, and made do with a banana mid-afternoon.

Running on empty was not advisable, and coupled with loss of sleep it tipped her into headache territory with increasing intensity.

At five she was tempted to give up, except another hour—two, tops—and she’d put the day’s work to bed. Given international time-zones, the data would be accessible, and any delay minimal.

She was almost done when her cellphone buzzed, and she automatically picked up…something she rarely did without first checking caller ID.

‘Alesha.’

There was no mistaking that deep, faintly accented voice. ‘Hi.’ As a greeting, it was sadly lacking.

‘I’m on my way up.’

So he was back…and here. He’d said he’d call, but she hadn’t counted on seeing him. Nor did she expect the slow curling sensation to begin deep within.

She wasn’t alone in the building…There would be others staying back catching up on work, the cleaning staff.

Minutes later he was there, his tall frame filling the aperture, and unbidden her pulse kicked into a faster beat as he moved into her office.

‘Working late?’

His voice was deceptively mild, his eyes faintly hooded as he took in her pale features, the dark circles beneath her eyes. She looked beat, almost fragile, and at a guess she was harbouring a headache.

Alesha deliberately focused her attention on the computer screen. ‘And you’re here…why?’

‘I need to collect a file which hasn’t been uploaded into the computer system.’

A mark against Dimitri’s recently reassigned PA?

Her father had expected efficiency…but not to the level demanded beneath Loukas’ direction.

‘Tough day?’

Like you wouldn’t believe. ‘I’m almost done.’

‘Good. You can share Chinese with me.’

She lifted her head and saw the paper sack he placed on her desk. ‘You brought food?’ Her stomach did a slow roll in anticipatory pleasure.

‘I missed lunch.’ And opted out of an in-flight meal that failed to provide sufficient sustenance to fuel a minimum four hours’ work. Following an intense few days of meetings, staff reorganization, and ironing out several kinks in the Karsouli infrastructure.

He thrived on brokering high-powered deals, but Karsouli was personal. Aware of the need for a different approach from the slash and burn techniques for which he’d gained a formidable reputation.

The necessity to input a few hours’ work didn’t faze him. What he hadn’t expected to see when he entered the office building’s underground parking area was Alesha’s silver BMW stationary in its parking bay.

Loukas heard her faint sigh as she hit save and closed down. With deft movements he snapped open the various containers and handed her a set of chopsticks.

‘Eat.’

She did, with evident enjoyment. ‘Thanks. This is so much better than a boiled egg and salad.’

‘No girls’ night out?’

‘The male stripper called in sick.’ Her response was slick, and she was almost sure she caught a faint gleam of humour apparent in his dark eyes.

‘No replacement available?’

‘Unfortunately.’

His presence unsettled her. There was something about him…a dangerous sexual chemistry combined with a primitive earthy quality that promised much.

It filled her with a curious tension, combining reluctant anticipation with a sense of trepidation.

Which seemed crazy. She didn’t even like him.

Or was that due to an emotional shutdown…hers? A case of ‘if you don’t think about it, it won’t happen’.

Some chance.

She should leave.

With that thought in mind, she gathered her jacket, her laptop and briefcase. ‘You have work to do.’

He stood up. ‘I’ll see you down to the car.’

‘That’s not necessary.’

He merely slanted an eyebrow and indicated she precede him. ‘I consider it is.’

She was tempted to argue. Instead she summoned a sweet smile. ‘How…’ she paused, then added with delicate intent ‘…kind.’

Her eyes widened as he trailed light fingers down her cheek in an unexpected gesture that stole the breath from her throat.

‘Get some sleep.’ Then he dropped his hand, and she stood still for a few heart-stopping seconds before brushing past him.

Thankfully the lift doors opened the instant she pressed the call-button, and she moved in ahead of him, then stood in silence as the cubicle transported them swiftly down to basement level.

It took only minutes to reach her car, and she released the locking mechanism, slid behind the wheel, engaged the ignition and drove towards the ramp leading to street level without a backwards glance.

Traffic in the inner city had eased from its peak-hour exodus, and she reached her apartment with a sense of relief.

A hot shower, attired in sleepwear, a cup of tea plus a couple of painkillers in hand, she curled up in a comfortable chair to watch TV for an hour or two before she retired for the night.

On the edge of sleep came the intrusive knowledge that tomorrow she would marry Loukas.

Share his home, his bed, eventually.

How long would he allow her solitary occupation in a bed next to his own? A few nights…a week?

Did it matter?

She told herself she didn’t care. Sex was just…sex. In the dark of night she could simply close her eyes and wait for the act to be over.

How difficult could it be?

Chapter Four

TWO wedding days three years apart, Alesha mused as she put the finishing touches to her make-up. Each so completely different they were at opposite ends of the spectrum!

Having done the full bridal thing with designer dress, four bridesmaids, flower girl, page boy, the church, several hundred guests, the tiered wedding cake and exclusive reception with her marriage to Seth, the prospect of a civil ceremony by a celebrant held in the grounds of the groom’s Point Piper home with Dimitri’s lawyer and Lacey as witnesses seemed a breeze by comparison.

So why was she a mass of nerves?

‘You look gorgeous.’ Lacey’s compliment was genuine, and should have acted as reassurance. Instead the nerves inside Alesha’s stomach twisted into a tighter ball.

‘Thanks.’

Lacey looked at the overnight bag resting at the end of the bed. ‘Is that all you’re taking with you?’

‘It’s enough for the weekend.’

‘Darling,’ Lacey chided. ‘You’re moving in with Loukas. Permanently. You need to pack.’

‘I’ll shift some of my stuff tomorrow.’

‘Hello?’ The admonishment held a degree of musing scepticism.

Arguing with Lacey was a losing battle as her friend flung open wardrobe doors, drawers, and quickly transferred a varied assortment of apparel into a suitcase.

‘Okay, we’re out of here.’

Second thoughts? She had a few! Primarily, relating to her sanity!

Yet as tempting as it would be to bail out, there was the overriding knowledge that she’d agreed to this marriage. What was more, she’d signed legal documentation confirming it.

So suck it up, Alesha chastised as she negotiated traffic and headed towards suburban Point Piper, with Lacey following close behind.

Loukas’ home was positioned behind a high wall and entered between stylish gates that opened onto a curved driveway leading to a double-storeyed mansion whose imposing entry was guarded by two massive ornamental-studded wooden doors.

She brought the BMW to a smooth halt behind a late-model four-wheel drive, and Lacey parked directly behind her.

No sooner had she cut the engine than both entry doors opened to reveal Loukas in the wide aperture.

His tall, broad-shouldered frame attired in an immaculate dark suit appeared slightly intimidating as he moved towards her.

There was little she could do to control the sudden fluttering inside her stomach as he held open the door for her to emerge.

‘Alesha.’ His close proximity, his dark watchful gaze merely accelerated her nervous tension, for soon, within the space of an hour or less, she’d enter into a legal union with this man…and her life would change.

Concern as to just how it would change affected her more than she imagined possible.

Would Loukas suddenly assume another identity within hours of the wedding…as Seth had?

The mere thought was enough to send an element of fear shivering the length of her spine, and the smile she summoned appeared over-bright and failed to reach her eyes.

Did he notice? She hoped not.

The faint sound of an engine caught her attention, and she turned slightly as a vehicle slid to a halt behind Lacey’s car.

‘The gang’s all here.’ She kept her voice light as Lacey joined them, followed closely by Dimitri’s lawyer.

Loukas ushered them into a spacious foyer whose floor featured beautiful marble tiling in a large circular star-burst design, above whose centre an exquisite crystal chandelier provided prisms of light.

Antique tables, exquisitely crafted chairs, wall sconces, paintings, graced an area whose focal point was a sweeping double marble staircase featuring ornate wrought-iron balustrades leading to an upper floor balcony that divided into two separate galleried wings showcased by matching ornate wrought-iron balustrades.

‘Come through to the lounge,’ Loukas directed with ease. ‘Everything is set up there.’

Alesha moved on autopilot, so acutely conscious of his presence at her side that she barely noticed the beautiful sofas and chairs, the amazingly high ceilings.

Instead she focused on the small table with its exquisite lace-edged linen cloth, the votive candle, a delicate spray of cream orchids, and a leather-bound Bible.

Introductions complete, the celebrant conferred with the lawyer, exchanged small talk, then she opted to begin the ceremony.

You can do this.

As an affirmation, it didn’t begin to scratch the surface!

Almost as if he knew, Loukas captured her hand and held it loosely within his own.

To prevent her sudden need to escape? It was a moot point!

Alesha heard the solemn beautifully spoken words, and on some level she took them in, and managed to recite the vows that united her with Loukas in matrimony…aware his vows held a calm solemnity that was lacking in her own.

He slid a wide diamond-studded ring onto her finger, surprised her by lifting her hand and brushing the ring with his lips, before offering a ring for her to slip onto his finger.

He was prepared to wear a wedding ring?

Her fingers shook a little as she slid it on, and his hand covered hers as he used a little pressure to slide it home.

‘It gives me great pleasure to pronounce you husband and wife.’ The celebrant bestowed the gathered foursome a pleasant smile. ‘And introduce Alesha and Loukas Andreou.’ Loukas lifted both hands and cradled Alesha’s head, then he covered her mouth with his own in a fleeting sensual caress.

Oh, my. There had to be some explanation for the slow curl of sensation unfurling deep within her. Almost as if her body was at variance with the dictates of her mind.

How could she even begin to think what it would be like to have him invite a more intimate touch, to feel his hands on her body, his lips tasting an evocative trail, teasing, encouraging her response.

The question had to be could he succeed? When she’d left Seth she’d locked the door to her emotional heart and thrown away the key. And vowed never to allow another man to get close.

Alesha became conscious of Lacey’s laughter as she was enveloped in a hug; the voiced congratulations from the lawyer, the celebrant; Loukas’ hand resting against the back of her waist before he released her to open the champagne cooling in an ice bucket.

Smile, a silent voice prompted. You’re supposed to be happy. The future of Karsouli is secure, and your future is safe…if safe could be attributed to the man whose ring she now wore.

So play the game expected of you. Pretend. Haven’t the past few years provided plenty of practice?

Consequently she accepted a flute of champagne, smiled at the toast Lacey proposed to happiness and a blessed future, and managed to nibble a proffered canapé from a silver platter presented by Loukas’ housekeeper, Eloise.

The celebrant took her leave, and conversation flowed with ease for a while until the lawyer indicated a pressing engagement and Lacey followed suit as she pressed a light kiss to Alesha’s cheek before turning to Loukas.

‘Take good care of her.’

‘I intend to do so.’

Together they moved through the foyer to the main entrance where Loukas opened the door.

‘Drive carefully.’

‘Always.’

There was the sound of heels tapping along the driveway, the beep of a security remote, followed by the solid clunk of a car door closing and the purr of an engine as Lacey drove away.

Alesha watched as the car eased down the driveway, saw the accented red of brake lights as Lacey slowed at the gates, then the car disappeared from sight.

She was extremely conscious of the man who stood at her side, his easy movements as he closed both doors and activated the security system.

The house…mansion, she corrected, seemed incredibly large, not to mention an unknown entity, for, although she assumed the bedroom suites were situated upstairs, she had no idea precisely which wing contained the master suite.

Loukas indicated the curved staircase. ‘Eloise will have transferred your bag upstairs.’

‘Is this the part where you give me a guided tour?’

‘You’d prefer to explore on your own?’

She crossed to the staircase and began ascending the wide marble stairs, aware he joined her. ‘I might get lost.’

‘It’s quite simple. Personal suites and home office situated to the left, guest suites to the right. Ground floor, formal and informal lounge and dining rooms, media, home theatre, kitchen, utilities. Lower floor, gym, entertainment room, indoor pool. Outdoor pool. Self-contained flat for staff over detached garages.’

They reached the gallery and turned to the left. ‘It’s a large home for one man.’ An observation that incurred his steady appraisal.

‘A man who has very recently acquired a wife,’ he reminded silkily.

Loukas opened a set of double-panelled doors to reveal a spacious master bedroom, containing two king-size beds.

So he’d kept his word.

She told herself she should be relieved…and she was. Except sharing the same room implied a certain intimacy with which she felt distinctly uncomfortable. There were two separate en suites, two dressing rooms and a recessed alcove furnished with two comfortable chairs and standard lamps.

It was, she had to admit, incredible. Luxurious, with spectacular views over the harbour to the cityscape. Magic at nightfall when the city was lit up and varied coloured neon flashed with advertisements atop many of the inner-city buildings.

He shrugged out of suit jacket, dispensed with his tie and loosened the top button of his shirt.

For a moment she caught her breath at his intention, and he glimpsed the fleeting apprehension evident before it was quickly masked.

‘You might want to change into something less formal.’

She reminded him of a skittish foal in an unfamiliar environment…one who had experienced fear, possibly damage, with every reason to mistrust.

‘Eloise has unpacked your bag.’ Loukas indicated the dressing room she would use. ‘Tomorrow we’ll shift the remainder of your belongings.’

‘I can manage on my own.’

‘You won’t need to.’

So give up the independent streak, accept two pairs of hands are better than one, and some masculine strength for the bag-carrying is a good thing.

Slipping into something more comfortable depended on what items of clothing Lacey packed, and she crossed into her allocated dressing room to check the meagre assortment.

Jeans didn’t cut it, but tailored trousers with a cotton top would do.

Minutes later she emerged to find Loukas standing close to the wide expanse of glass taking in the panoramic scene.

The white shirt accentuated the impressive breadth of his shoulders, and his shirt cuffs had been folded back to rest midway up his forearms, lending a casual air.

Deceptive, she knew, for he could move with the silent stealth of a primitive cat and reduce an adversary to speechlessness with a few sententious words.

She watched as he turned towards her, and the breath caught in her throat.

He was someone she’d known for a number of years, as the son of Dimitri’s closest friend, a man whose company she’d shared with her parents’ friends and business associates on a few occasions at various social events. Instinctively aware, even then, that when he played, he played to win…in business, and with women.

Through circumstance he’d won Karsouli…together with her as part of the package.

‘Shall we go eat?’

Food wasn’t foremost on her mind, although she sipped excellent vintage wine, sampled succulent morsels from no less than three courses, while engaging in meaningless conversation.

The economic state of the nation and the world’s foremost leaders made for interesting debate and carried the hour with relative ease. Something for which she was immensely grateful.

‘Do you still have regular contact with Lacey?’

Alesha wondered if Loukas’ query related to genuine interest, or merely a shift to the more personal.

‘Regularly,’ she answered lightly. ‘We share dinner each week, occasionally take in a movie. Go shopping together.’

‘I seem to recall you were a keen advocate of tennis. Do you still play?’

‘Not as often as I used to.’ She took an appreciative sip of fine wine. ‘Do you still travel extensively?’

‘My father prefers to remain in Greece these days.’ He affected a slight shrug. ‘Andreou has offices in London, Milan and New York, and I alternate between each of them while overseeing the main office in Athens.’

‘And now you’ve added Sydney to the equation.’

One eyebrow lifted in sardonic query. ‘That still bothers you?’

‘I have no alternative but to accept it.’

‘It’s a little late to change your mind.’

‘How are your parents? Your sister Lexi?’

‘They’re well. My mother is on various committees, which consume some of her time. Lexi designs handcrafted jewellery and has a studio in the Pláka.’

‘And your Aunt Daria?’ It was a polite query and resulted in a musing smile.

‘She remains a force to be reckoned with.’

Plain-spoken to the point of bluntness, Alesha remembered as she recalled a visit to Athens with her parents several years ago when they’d spent time with Angelina and Constantine Andreou.

‘That appears to take care of family and friends,’ Alesha managed lightly. ‘Should we move on to the more personal? The master breeding plan, perhaps? I trust you’re aware the male sperm determine the sex of the child?’ She spared him a pseudo-intelligent look. ‘I refuse to bear any blame if we produce only girls.’

Alesha glimpsed his faint smile. ‘Why, when their mother is a fine example of what women can achieve?’

‘An attempt to soften me up for the inevitable consummation?’ She was heading down a dangerous path, and she silently damned her runaway tongue.

‘The chemistry we share bothers you?’

Bother was too tame a description!

‘And chemistry is an automatic guarantee for satisfaction between the sheets?’

What is the matter with you? a silent voice screamed inside her head. Are you insane?

‘Did your ex gift you that?’

She silently damned herself for metaphorically opening a vein. ‘You expect me to answer such a question?’

He was silent for several seconds…seconds during which she found it difficult to hold his gaze. ‘You just did.’

It would be so easy to tell him to go to hell, and she almost did. Except sanity ruled her tongue and she maintained a dignified silence. He had depth of character, a silent strength that had been lacking in Seth…although she hadn’t seen it at the time.

Blinded by what she imagined to be love, Alesha decided with cynicism. Seth had played his part well…as she’d soon discovered.

This, her second wedding night, was so vastly different from that of her first wedding when she’d been surrounded by family and friends, and filled with love for her new husband and barely containing a breathless excitement for the night when she and Seth were alone.

A faint bubble of cynical amusement rose in her throat to remain unuttered.

She’d thought being in love resolved everything, except it hadn’t. The magical wedding night she’d imagined didn’t happen due to her new husband imbibing vintage champagne a little too freely. And the sex had been…less than she’d imagined it would be. Afterwards, when she had refused to give in to his demands that they upgrade their home and lifestyle, and allow him an unlimited expense account, the sex had become a punishment she had endeavoured to avoid…to her cost. And she’d walked away, vowing never to be taken in by another man in her lifetime.

Yet here she was, a few hours into a second marriage she didn’t want to the man of her father’s choice. Sharing the same room in separate beds…for how long? One night…two?

After all, in the dark of night, sex was just…sex. No big deal. Right?

So why did she feel like a cat treading hot bricks?

Because instinct warned she was way out of her depth with a man of Loukas’ calibre. There was somethinga bout him, an intrinsic, almost raw sexuality that bordered on the primitive.

Intoxicating, brazen, shameless.

A part of her ached for the experience, while sanity cautioned she might not survive with her emotions intact.

It was almost a relief when Eloise entered the dining room to clear the table, and Alesha elected tea in preference to the strong espresso Loukas favoured.

How soon could she conceivably offer an excuse and retire to bed? Another hour or two? Did Loukas have anything planned?

A tiny bubble of laughter rose in her throat. Sure…like they’d settle comfortably in the media room and watch a movie on DVD?

Resorting to cynical humour was a defence mechanism she chose to employ against an increasing onset of nervous tension.

‘I have a few international calls to make.’ Loukas studied her expressive features, and it was almost as if he knew the pattern of her thoughts. ‘Maybe an hour or two ahead of me on the computer as the business day begins in Europe.’

Her relief was palpable, and she only hoped it wasn’t evident. ‘Sure. Go for it.’ She stood and moved away from the table, aware he did the same, and she preceded him from the room, then headed for the upper level.

Tomorrow she’d familiarize herself with the house and its several levels…but for now she ascended the curved staircase and made her way along the gallery to their suite.

Her choices numbered many: a leisurely soak in the spa-bath; slipping into bed with a book—if she could locate one. Sliding between the covers of one of the two beds and attempting to sleep.

As if she’d be able to do that, when every nerve in her body would be alert and tuned into Loukas’ appearance.

Two beds…would he sleep alone, or choose to share her own?

Hell. She didn’t even know which bed was his.

What if she selected the wrong bed and he took it as an invitation to share?

Dammit, since when had she become so ambivalent?

Since her separation and divorce from Seth, she’d regained her independence, healed, and forged a reputation as a confident savvy young businesswoman who’d earned her rightful position as Dimitri Karsouli’s colleague.

Very little, if anything, fazed her. Certainly not a man of any calibre…except Loukas.

She’d stayed away from him, careful not to show so much as a glimmer more than mere friendship. Aware, even from the first moment she’d met him that he was more than she could handle.

Light and dark, mesmeric…possessed of a sensual power that electrified and frightened. Because she instinctively knew he’d want it all…the heart of a woman, her body, her soul.

And she couldn’t be that woman. Didn’t want to be absorbed so totally that there was nothing left except him.

Now, she didn’t know. So much had changed. She had changed.

No longer did she believe in love. At least, not the happy-ever-after enduring kind that lasted a lifetime.

Nor did she intend to place her trust in any man.

Once burned by flame, it was the height of foolishness to toy with it again.

For timeless minutes she stood taking in the superb furnishings in the spacious suite. Despite the luxurious accoutrements there was an underlying air of comfort that held appeal. The muted colours aided relaxation, and she wondered if they’d been a deliberate choice by the interior decorator responsible for creating the refurbishment.

Decisiveness had to be a plus, she perceived as she collected sleepwear and moved into the en suite where the spa-bath beckoned invitingly.

Mellow, she coveted the slow slide into the kind of relaxation that aided an easy sleep. Hopefully way before Loukas entered the room, so she wouldn’t be aware of his presence until morning…and maybe not even then, if he rose early to make use of the downstairs gym.

Heaven, Alesha breathed as she sank into the warm bubbling water and positioned her head against the cushioned rest.

Ten minutes, she allowed…then she’d switch off the jets, release the water, dry off, and slip into bed.

It was almost midnight when Loukas closed down the laptop and muted the desk lamp. He’d spoken to Constantine in the Athens office, liaised with two colleagues in Paris, another in Rome. There’d been data to peruse to which he added his input, and the stock markets.

He lifted his arms and stretched, easing out the kinks in his shoulders, then he sat in contemplative silence for several long minutes before rising to his feet.

In the kitchen he filled a glass with chilled water, drank it down, then he checked the security system and moved quietly upstairs.

The master bedroom suite bore the softened light from muted lamps, and it took only a brief glance to determine both beds were empty.

A slight frown creased his forehead as he crossed to the en suite, knocked quietly, and when there was no answer he opened the door.

For a moment he stood taking in the scene…the soft pulsing jets in the spa-bath, the slender feminine form whose facial features in repose looked peaceful, almost childlike and bare of artificial enhancements.

Her soft, slightly parted mouth almost begged the touch of his own. Fine, almost porcelain skin moulded delicate bone structure, a perfect nose, and long natural eyelashes fanned out from petal-like eyelids.

He moved quietly towards the bath and switched off the jets, then he collected one of several large folded bath-towels and spoke her name.

There was no sign she heard him, and his gaze skimmed over her slender curves, the soft swell of her breasts with their tender peaks, the delicate waist, flat stomach with its slim gold pin with a strategically placed diamond attached to her navel. A cheeky jewellery accessory that winked and gleamed beneath the water’s surface.

He felt the stirring of arousal, and banked it down.

‘Alesha.’ His voice was firm, and he caught the faint flutter of her eyelashes. ‘Wake up.’

He saw the moment his words penetrated her subconscious, the sudden upwards sweep of her lashes as she came awake, and the stark mix of startled surprise and fear in the depths of her eyes the instant before she recognized him and gained the reality of her surroundings.

‘It’s after midnight,’ he said quietly. ‘You fell asleep.’

Loukas glimpsed her attempt to control the fleeting expressions chasing her features, saw the embarrassment change to indignation as she automatically used her hands to shield the vulnerable parts of her body.

‘Leave the towel and go…please.’

He was tempted to release the water, scoop her out and wrap her in the towel, then carry her to bed. His.

Except when he took her, it would be because she wanted him, not an act she conceded out of duty or mere compliance.

He might be many things, and he’d been called on several…but he stood by his word.

So he did as she requested and closed the door behind him, then he shed his clothes, took a cool shower, and slid between the sheets to lie with his arms crossed behind his head.

He watched idly as she emerged into the bedroom attired in cotton sleep trousers and a singlet top, looking impossibly young.

A slight smile widened his generous mouth as she avoided meeting his gaze, and he waited until she slipped beneath the covers before closing the lamps.

‘Goodnight.’ His voice was an indolent drawl in the darkness, and he only just heard her muffled response.

Chapter Five

ALESHA woke to light filtering through partly closed shutters along the wall of glass facing east.

For a brief moment she felt slightly disorientated by her unfamiliar surroundings, then memory surfaced as she cautiously examined the spacious room.

Specifically the large bed next to the one she’d occupied through the night…and she experienced a sense of relief to find it empty.

She brushed a hand through her hair and checked the time, saw it was almost eight, and hurriedly slid from the bed before gathering up fresh clothes and disappearing into the en suite to complete her morning routine and dress.

Jeans and a stylish tee sufficed, and she caught her hair in a ponytail, added gloss to her lips, then she made her way downstairs to the kitchen.

Coffee would be good, breakfast even better, and she entered the spacious, beautifully appointed kitchen to discover Eloise stacking the dishwasher, with no sign of Loukas in sight.

‘Good morning.’ Alesha kept it light and offered a warm smile, which the housekeeper returned in kind.

‘It’s a lovely day,’ Eloise added. ‘What can I get you for breakfast?’

‘If it’s okay with you, I’ll make coffee, and just grab some cereal and fruit, and take it out onto the terrace.’

‘I can easily prepare a cooked breakfast if you’d prefer.’

‘Thanks, but cereal is fine.’

There was something infinitely relaxing in looking out over the harbour. Small and large craft sprinkled the sparkling Port Jackson waters; tugboats guided a massive tanker towards the wharves, while ferries cruised the distance between the city and Manly.

The cityscape bore tall modern high-rise buildings in varying architectural designs, their plate-glass windows glinting as the sun rose in the sky.

No matter where she’d travelled, Sydney was home. The place of her birth and education. It held familiarity for her. Memories, all of them good…until Seth. And just as she emerged whole and healed, she was flung into the unknown again by her father’s hand.

‘Finish your coffee, then we’ll collect the rest of your belongings from the apartment.’

Loukas had the silent tread of a cat, and she replaced her cup down onto its saucer with care before she turned to meet his gaze.

Attired in jeans and a chambray shirt, he bore a deceptively casual air that was the antithesis of the man he’d proven himself to be.

It was the eyes, Alesha perceived. Dark silken depths that were too perceptive for anyone’s peace of mind…especially hers.

Oh, why not admit it? He unsettled her, increasing her vulnerability to a point where she felt constantly on edge in his presence.

‘I can manage to do that on my own.’

‘You don’t need to.’

‘What if I prefer to?’

‘Give it up, Alesha.’

She tilted her head and held his gaze with equanimity. ‘I was unaware taking your name meant alienating my freedom of choice.’

He rested a hip against the edge of the table and leant towards her, not exactly crowding her in, but close…too close.

‘You prefer the difficult route to a simple one?’ He waited a beat as her eyes darkened at his proximity. ‘Or do you merely enjoy debating me?’

She resembled a startled foal whenever he encroached on her personal space, and his gaze narrowed fractionally as the pulse at the base of her throat began to visibly thud.

‘You lucked out if you want a subservient wife who will agree with your every word.’

‘It should make for an interesting life.’

Her smile was deliberate. ‘You think?’

Loukas stood to his feet. ‘Collect your keys, then we’ll leave. Presumably you’ve forgotten one of Dimitri’s charitable causes is hosting an event this evening and our presence is expected?’

He glimpsed the conflicting emotions pass fleetingly across her expressive features before she managed to control them. ‘I doubt you packed a suitable gown.’

She hadn’t. Neither gown nor shoes, nor evening clutch.

Surely she had the event entered in her diary? Yet she’d neglected to check…understandable given her father’s sudden death, the funeral, Dimitri’s will. Dammit, her marriage.

But tonight? She could have put in a token appearance even with Loukas as her partner as a matter of respect. But wearing Loukas’ wedding ring, how long would it take for the inevitable question to arise? The speculation?

Dear heaven, the need to maintain some form of pretence as Alesha Andreou?

She didn’t want to go there…at least, not so soon. Yet she’d been raised with a strong sense of duty, a respect for bona fide charitable causes, and this evening’s fundraiser was indeed a special one, fostering a terminally ill child with the opportunity to fulfil a much revered wish.

Alesha gathered her crockery and flatware together and deposited both in the kitchen before she ascended the stairs to collect her keys.

She caught sight of Loukas waiting in the foyer as she re-entered the upstairs gallery, and she ran lightly downstairs.

‘I’ll be a while.’

It was a parting shot, a last-ditch attempt for independence that failed miserably as he swung open one of the two solid-panelled doors and indicated the four-wheel drive parked in the driveway.

‘Let’s go.’

She threw him a fulminating look that had no visible effect whatsoever, and they rode the distance to Double Bay in silence.

The apartment was exactly as she’d left it, and she became extremely conscious of Loukas’ presence as he overrode every objection she made.

Okay, so she’d transfer all her clothes, shoes and personal possessions. Any decision about the furniture and the apartment itself could wait. The practical side voted she maintain it as was. Logically, she should lease it out.

Except it bore her personal stamp, with everything carefully chosen to create a perfect blend of muted colours, a kitchen to die for, beautifully elegant furniture and furnishings.

Hers alone…a sanctuary representing a personal triumph through darkness to light, the re-emergence of strength and resolve.

‘I’ll clear the tallboy and dresser drawers while you take the wardrobe.’

She looked at him askance.

He intended to gather together her personal stuff? Lingerie, briefs, bras?

‘I’ll take care of those.’

Except he was already there, opening a drawer and scooping up pastel silk thongs, satin briefs, lacy bras and transferring them into a packing box.

‘Must you?’ she flung with exasperation, barely quelling the urge to hit him.

His husky chuckle incensed her, and she reacted without thought, aiming the shoe she held in her hand with accuracy, only to watch in stunned disbelief as he fielded it and placed it down with care.

His smile was still in place, but the expression in his dark eyes sent chills scudding the length of her spine.

‘You want to play?’

Not the sort of game he had in mind, and she silently damned her foolish action. ‘I don’t do sex in the middle of the day.’

One eyebrow lifted in cynical humour. ‘You prefer furtive foreplay beneath the cover of darkness?’

As Seth had? Ensuring any strike came without warning, and the advantage became his?

In the animal kingdom, she qualified, Seth was akin to a reptile—while Loukas came from an entirely different species…primitive, highly sensual, and infinitely dangerous. A very sexual man, whose reputation with women was legend.

And now he was hers.

Or more accurately…she was his.

Something moved in her eyes, then was quickly gone.

Loukas’ gaze narrowed as he glimpsed the fine hold she had on her emotions, and how unaware she was that he could so easily read them.

Just what was it about her brief marriage that had changed her from a delightful young woman possessed of an engaging personality into someone who rarely laughed and shied away from men?

Abuse? Physical, mental…or both?

The extent of his anger at the possibility surprised him, and he banked it down as he turned his attention to the next drawer. ‘Let’s get this done.’

Methodical placement of clothes being her thing made for easy transference from wardrobe to packing boxes, and she focused on the chore at hand while attempting to ignore Loukas’ presence.

Difficult, she acknowledged, when he was there, a physical entity that filled her with an edgy awareness and made her supremely conscious of every breath she took.

Tonight…she really didn’t want to think about the evening, or how much it would cost her to play an expected part at Loukas’ side. To smile, converse and pretend.

You’ll be fine, Alesha silently assured herself as she slid the zip fastener home on an exquisite gown in deep emerald green whose off-the-shoulder design hugged her slender curves. She opted to leave her hair loose, and employed the skilful use of make-up to highlight her eyes and accent her generously moulded mouth.

Six-thirty for seven meant leaving the house at six, and she attached diamond studs to her ears, added a matching pendant on a slim gold chain, only to have the clasp prove difficult.

‘Problems?’ Loukas crossed to stand behind her, and she held her breath as his fingers brushed her own as he slid the clip into place.

The exclusive tones of his cologne teased her senses, and she stood still, unable in those long seconds to do anything but breathe.

He seemed to surround her, a magnetic force that caused her body to pulse, irrespective of the dictates of her brain.

For one wild moment she wondered if he knew.

Dear heaven, she hoped not.

‘Ready?’

She stepped away from him and collected her evening clutch. ‘Yes.’

As ready as she’d ever be, she vowed silently as the Aston Martin swept through streets slick from an early evening shower.

She’d done this before, many times. Attending various functions in the company of her parents, and partnering Dimitri after her mother’s death.

So what was the big deal?

You can do this, Alesha assured herself again as Loukas slid the car to a halt adjacent the main entry of one of Sydney’s prestigious hotels.

With smooth efficiency the concierge arranged valet parking, and she entered the hotel foyer at Loukas’ side.

A magnificent wide staircase curved to a mezzanine level where guests were gathered in the spacious lounge adjacent the grand ballroom.

Uniformed waiters and waitresses offered canapés, champagne and orange juice.

Smile. Do the meet-and-greet thing, comment on the attendance, assure Karsouli’s continued support to members of the charity committee…and refer any awkward questions to Loukas.

Simple. At least it should have been.

Except she neglected to factor in Loukas’ constant company, the touch of his hand at the back of her waist, the effect his warm smile had on her equilibrium. Dammit, their projected togetherness.

It was inevitable the wide diamond-encrusted wedding ring on her left hand would eventually capture attention. Coupled as it was with the plain gold band Loukas now wore, conclusions were reached and the more emboldened requested confirmation.

The news spread, with almost comical circumspection if one was inclined towards cynical amusement.

‘Darling, how wonderful happiness should evolve from such recent sadness.’ Words expressed by the charity committee member were genuine, and Alesha accepted the air-kiss, the obligatory hug as others followed.

Men, captains of industry, who took the opportunity to shake Loukas’ hand and offer congratulations. And women, some of whom expressed their affection a little more enthusiastically to Loukas than the occasion demanded.

Two in particular, known for their flirting skills and love of high-living.

Alesha assured herself she didn’t care when the exquisite blonde melded her body close and wound her arms round Loukas’ neck.

To his credit, he moved his head so the intended kiss brushed the edge of his jaw, and he summoned a faint smile as he disentangled the blonde’s arms.

A sparkling laugh, the hint of a moue, then the blonde turned towards Alesha. ‘Darling, he’s delicious. If you hadn’t snared him first…’ The words trailed to a halt, with no doubt of the implication.

Darling, Alesha was sorely tempted to redress, you’d have been most welcome. Instead she offered a sweet smile, and barely managed to contain her surprise as Loukas lifted her hand and brushed his lips to her sensitive palm.

For a brief moment the room and everyone in it faded as her eyes locked with his, and the air between them seemed filled with electric tension.

Then he smiled, and curled her hand within his own. ‘Fortunately, she did.’

Oh, my…what was that?

Playing the part, a tiny imp taunted. And he does it so well.

‘Pity,’ the blonde voiced with seeming regret. ‘We could have had fun.’ With a pretty wave of her hand the blonde turned and melted into the crowd.

‘You can let go now,’ Alesha managed quietly, attempting to pull free without success, for he merely threaded his fingers through her own. She kept her voice light and a smile in place. ‘Must you?’

‘Yes.’

He glimpsed sudden pain darken her eyes, then it was gone.

It was perhaps as well the ballroom doors opened and the assembled guests converged towards the three main entry points.

Their table held prominent position, and the usual speeches included gratitude for previous funding together with a plea for the guests’ continuing generosity.

The drinks flowed, entertainment was provided between each of the three dinner courses, and it wasn’t until coffee was served that there was the opportunity for any lengthy conversation.

A DJ set discs spinning at one end of the ballroom and provided a mix of music. A time of the evening when some of the older guests began to leave, and the younger set filled the adjoining floor-space.

‘Shall we?’

Dance? With him?

She had, on a few occasions in the past. Way past, when her life had been uncomplicated and she’d viewed the future as a journey of discovery.

Following her separation from Seth, the only male she’d chosen to dance with had been her father…occasions when she’d felt protected, safe.

Loukas and safe didn’t equate.

In the name of heaven, get a grip. She was in a room filled with people, and she was being too ridiculous for words.

‘Sure, why not?’ she managed simply.

Except being held by him was far from simple. Even in killer heels she was conscious of his height, his restrained strength and his sexual energy.

One hand lingered at the base of her spine, and she barely controlled a faint shivery sensation as his thumb brushed a gentle pattern over the delicate bones.

If he sought to soothe, the caress had the opposite effect, and she dug her lacquered nails into his hand in a silent plea to desist.

A fruitless exercise as he drew her close, splaying the hand at her spine to hold her there.

Worse, the DJ selected a slow, seductive number and the lights dimmed low, providing a level of intimacy that made her want to pull away from him.

She tried, without success, and everything within her coalesced and became one highly sensitized ache. It made her want something she’d thought she once held in her grasp…only to be cheated as her emotional dreams were smashed into a thousand pieces.

Please, she silently begged. I can’t do this.

I want my life back…the one I carefully rebuilt for myself. No emotional ties, no room for disappointment and heartache.

‘I think we’ve managed a sufficiently convincing display,’ Alesha offered evenly, and wondered if Loukas had any idea of the effort it had cost her not to tear herself away from him.

‘You’ve had enough?’

Enough of what? Being held intimately close to him? Playing pretend? Why not go for broke and include both, with emphasis on the former?

He sounded mildly amused, and she deliberately stood on his foot.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said sweetly.

‘No, you’re not.’ He eased her to the edge of the dance floor, then began leading the way to their table.

The ‘goodnight’ thing took a while, and it was a relief to leave the ballroom and descend the stairs to the hotel foyer.

The concierge summoned their car, and within minutes the Aston Martin appeared in the forecourt.

Alesha slid into the passenger seat, fastened the seat belt, then she eased her head against the cushioned rest and closed her eyes.

Home, bed. And, mercifully, a restful sleep.

Except home was no longer her apartment, and it was late, which meant Loukas probably was unlikely to run an electronic check of the world markets before heading for bed.

‘Headache?’

Her eyelids lifted and she turned towards him. It would be so easy to say yes, and she almost did. Except honesty had her shaking her head.

The night cast the car’s interior with a shadowy light, throwing his profile into stark angles.

He was something else. Sophisticated, powerful…yet beneath that persona lurked a man she found difficult to fathom. Content, apparently, to enter a loveless marriage and sire progeny sans emotional involvement.

What was it with that?

She knew all the issues. Hadn’t she agreed to them? Although agree didn’t enter the equation. Choice had weighed heavily against her.

A situation that pushed her to the edge and kept her there.

‘You handled the evening well.’

His silky drawl curled round her nerve-ends and pulled them to breaking point.

‘While you excelled.’

‘A compliment?’

She looked at him carefully. ‘Of course. What else?’

‘I doubt your foot’s deliberate aim was accidental.’

‘Really?’ Alesha managed sweetly.

Loukas smiled. She was a refreshing change from the women who formed part of his business and social entourage. Women who knew how to please and were forthcoming in offering to share his bed.

Easy pickings, he reflected without shame. Aware few, if any, had any thought beyond the advantages of his wealth, the gifts, the travel, the media attention his presence gained.

It was after midnight when he garaged the car and reset the security system.

Alesha made for the staircase, reaching their suite ahead of him, and she slipped off her heels, removed her ear-studs and reached for the clasp holding her pendant in place.

Stiff, it still refused to release, and she muttered an unladylike oath beneath her breath.

‘Let me.’

She hadn’t heard him enter the room, and she held her breath as his fingers brushed her nape. Within seconds he freed the recalcitrant clasp and dropped the pendant into her palm.

‘Thanks.’

His eyes were dark, slumbrous, as he laid a finger beneath her chin and tilted it. ‘So…thank me.’

The wayward pulse at the base of her throat began its rapid thudding beat, and her eyes flared as he lowered his head down to hers.

‘Don’t—’

Whatever else she meant to utter didn’t find voice as his mouth took hers in a kiss that grazed her lips with sensual promise, warm, caressing with deliberate intent as he sought her response.

One hand shifted to cup her nape while the other slid to the base of her spine and he drew her in against him.

Awareness flared as he deepened the kiss, his tongue an erotic force that sent the blood sizzling through her veins, flooding her inner core with a piercing sweetness until she became lost…wanting, needing on some subliminal level to superimpose a different image from the cruel taunts she’d received beneath Seth’s hands.

It would be so easy to close her eyes and let whatever happen…happen.

She felt him reach for the zip fastening on her gown, sensed the slow slide as the silk slithered down her body. All she wore was a satin thong brief, and the breath hitched in her throat as he cupped her breasts and began exploring their contours, stroking each tender peak until she became powerless against the pleasurable sigh emerging from her lips.

His mouth possessed her own…persuasive, evocative, as his hand shaped her waist, then slid low to seek her swollen clitoris.

Unbidden, she arched against him, unaware of the sensual sound she made as he skilfully brought her to climax, held her there, then he probed her silken heat in readiness for his possession.

It was the intrusion that brought her to a shuddering halt, and she froze, catapulted into a stark reality where past and present images merged and became one.

Panic born from fear lent her strength as she wrenched her mouth from his own, before she railed her fists against his shoulders in a bid to be free of him.

The air in her lungs escaped in tortuous gasps as he released her, and she could only look at him in shocked dismay.

Her lips parted, but no sound emerged, and she hugged her arms together, emotionally bereft and unable to control the way her body began to shake.

Dear God. She wanted to run and hide, except escape wasn’t the answer. Hell…what could she say?

Any explanation would take her to a place she didn’t want to go. Yet how could she not?

Her eyes widened as Loukas lifted a hand, and she instinctively took a protective backward step…a reaction that brought his narrowed gaze.

He caught the stark fear evident before she successfully masked it, and he fought against a silent rage as he reached for his discarded jacket and placed it carefully round her shoulders.

‘I’m sorry.’ Her voice was little more than a whisper as she instinctively caught the edges and hugged them close, barely registering the jacket was way too large on her slender frame.

Not nearly as regretful as he felt, Loukas perceived. For more reasons than the one she presumably referred to. The ache in his groin would subside…eventually. Her issue with intimacy was something else.

It placed a different emphasis on her previous short marriage, and he silently damned the man who’d clearly mistreated her.

‘I should have—’ she began, only to have him place a gentle finger over her lips to still anything further she might have uttered. Warned you, she finished silently, stricken with a host of ambivalent emotions, the overriding one being a mix of guilt and shame.

‘Don’t,’ he said quietly.

She wanted to escape into the en suite, don nightwear, then slip beneath the bedcovers and summon sleep. Except her feet refused to obey the command of her brain.

‘I’ll go sleep in another room,’ Alesha offered, and felt the light brush of his fingers over her lips.

‘No.’

How much would it take to lie in a bed barely a few metres from his own, and not be vividly aware of how close she’d come to the sexual act?

To recall in intimate detail the touch of his mouth on her own, the trail of his hands, and how he’d aroused her emotions to fever pitch.

Until she’d freaked out.

Oh, dear God.

How could she have come so close…only to freeze like a frightened virgin?

She almost wished he’d overridden her physical protest and consummated the marriage. Then she’d have got past the dread, the fear…hell, the stark memory of that last night beneath Seth’s vicious hands.

At the very least, she owed Loukas an explanation…

Oh, please, she derided silently. Like he wouldn’t already have reached the right conclusion?

Hadn’t she consulted therapists and talked the talk until she knew every angle? Every possible scenario?

She’d thought she’d conquered her fear of intimacy after Seth…but then she’d never tested it. Preferring to lead a celibate life, and refusing to date.

Tonight was the closest she’d allowed any man to come…and look how that had ended? Disaster plus.

Even thinking about it filled her with shame…and guilt.

Move forward.

Sure, like that would happen any time soon given her reaction just now?

She shivered beneath the warmth of his jacket, and she lifted one hand, then dropped it back to her side with an awkward gesture. ‘I need to—’ Escape. Move away from him and the almost electric tension filling the room before—what? She said something foolish? Trite?

Go, a silent voice bade. And she did, heading into her en suite without a backward glance.

She took care to close the door carefully, then she removed the jacket and laid it over a chair before crossing to the vanity.

Studiously avoiding the mirror, she removed her make-up, brushed her teeth a little too vigorously, then she pulled on sleepwear, took a deep calming breath…and re-entered the bedroom.

And found it empty.

There was a sense of relief as she crossed to the bed she’d occupied the previous night, and she slid between the sheets, dimmed the lights, then closed her eyes.

To sleep, hopefully.

Except images filled her head, past and present, merging into a scrambled mix that entered her subconscious with tortured clarity, rendering her helpless as the mental reel spun out.

Chapter Six

LOUKAS dragged a hand through his damp hair and reached for a towel.

A shower had eased some of the muscular tension, but not the slow-burning anger existent, for there was a part of him that wanted to physically harm the man whose mistreatment had seeded fear in the woman he’d married.

There was a word for it. And legal redress.

The question was whether Alesha had pressed charges.

Possibly not, in a bid to avoid publicity.

His eyes narrowed as he pulled on boxers…nightwear he rarely donned. The women he’d bedded were comfortable with their nudity, as well as his own.

What in hell had Alesha’s ex done to turn a confident outgoing young woman into someone who had serious issues with intimacy?

Rape…physical abuse? Both?

His hands clenched into tight fists at the thought of her being subjected to either.

And paused momentarily to wonder why it affected him to this degree.

Had Dimitri known of his daughter’s mistreatment?

Subdued lighting greeted him as he re-entered the bedroom, and his gaze swept to the slender form beneath the covers of the bed adjacent his own.

Was she asleep…or merely contriving to give that impression?

Loukas slid between the covers of his own bed, closed the lights, then lay quietly as he reflected on his every move since their arrival home from the fundraiser.

She had kissed like an angel…and he was willing to swear her reaction to his touch had been genuine.

Until she had panicked and fought against him with a desperation born of fear. Hardly the action of someone who’d sought counselling and emerged whole.

It was a while before he slept, and he came sharply awake at a soft beeping sound that had him reaching for the security sensor unit.

The glass door leading onto the terrace was unsecured, and the heat sensor detected a human form occupying a chair.

He moved quietly to his feet, checked the adjoining bed and discovered it empty.

The luminous dial on his watch showed it was several minutes past three.

Alesha? It had to be, and he extracted jeans and pulled them on, then added a tee shirt, before going in search of her.

With sure movements he crossed the gallery and ran lightly downstairs.

Subtle garden illumination provided sufficient light for him to see the slight feminine form curled up on one of four cushioned cane sofas nestled around a glass-topped table.

He made a point of ensuring she heard his approach, and he caught the quick movement of her hands as she brushed each cheek before turning towards him.

Tears?

Somehow the thought of her needing to retreat out here to cry alone touched a place in his heart he’d previously considered beyond reach.

The night air held a faint chill, and he sank down onto the sofa beside her.

‘Unable to sleep?’ He kept his voice light, and caught the slight shake of her head.

‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’

‘The security sensor,’ Loukas corrected. ‘It beeped an alert when you opened the external door.’

His features were shadowed in the half-light, and in the distance the city breathed life with its coloured neon billboards, street-lighting…casting a dappled reflection over the dark inner harbour waters.

In a few hours the indigo sky would begin to lighten as dawn emerged, providing colour and substance to the new day.

‘It’s peaceful out here,’ Alesha offered, aware her voice was edged with tiredness. Hardly surprising since she hadn’t slept at all. Yet she didn’t feel inclined to move.

Nor did she particularly want to converse. The silence of the night, the solitude it offered, acted as a soothing balm, and most of all she simply wanted to close her eyes and let it wash over her, cleanse a little and ease the ache deep inside.

There was a psychological process she needed to travel, a series of steps that would lead her from the dark back into the light, and it was better she took them alone. Then she could sleep.

‘Go back to bed,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m fine.’

Sure she was.

‘Please.’

It was the please that reached him, but he merely looked at her. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

Okay, so she’d pretend he wasn’t there.

Difficult, when his presence acted as a compelling entity impossible to ignore. He radiated innate strength and vitality…a dramatic mesh, even in repose, that made her incredibly aware of him.

Fool, she denounced in silent self-castigation. Why…why did you go into orbit, when you’d mentally conditioned yourself to have sex with him?

Now you’ve created a wedge…oh, call it as it is…an emotional physical chasm so deep and wide, it’ll be almost impossible to breach.

There was a part of her that felt inclined to urge him to take her to bed and…just do it.

Sure. Like he was going to risk her freaking out again? What man would be willing to risk rejection after being so convincingly repelled?

How could she explain that as much as she’d wanted his possession…somehow at the crucial moment Seth’s angry image had superimposed Loukas’ own.

‘Did your ex rape you?’

His voice was quiet, steady…yet she flinched from the words, and it took a few long moments to gather herself together.

‘Rape conjures up a picture involving violence.’

Loukas took hold of her hand and threaded his fingers loosely through her own. ‘Sex between consenting adults should be consensual. Not a demand or used as a punishment.’

The shadows helped. His closeness provided security. And he deserved to know some of it. All of it, eventually, but for now some of it would be enough.

‘Seth played a convincing part,’ she began quietly. ‘He fooled me, but not my father, who was against the marriage from the start.’ She couldn’t look at him. ‘It began almost as soon as we were married, with insults at first—about my lack of spine in demanding a substantial salary package, perks. When I refused to comply, he became…rough.’

Loukas kept his voice even, in spite of the anger building inside him. ‘He hit you.’

‘Yes.’

‘More?’

‘Some,’ she admitted, and heard the breath hiss between his teeth.

That any man could hurt her…dammit, harm her physically and emotionally enraged him. Yet if he showed any sign of it, she’d retreat even further behind the barrier she’d erected in self-protection.

She needed time to trust him, and he could give her that…even if it killed him to do so.

Meanwhile, it wouldn’t be difficult to discover the date of her first marriage, and uncover any hospital records…if any of her injuries had required hospital attention.

It became a matter of importance he discover as much as he could about what had transpired during her brief marriage. Better that, than push her for details she was reluctant to share.

For how else could he help resolve her issue with intimacy without all of the facts?

‘If it’s okay with you,’ Alesha managed quietly, ‘I’d prefer not to go into it any more tonight.’

This morning, he amended.

So where did they go from here?

With extreme care on his part.

The immediate agenda had to be a return to bed.

Soon the sky would begin to lighten, the birdlife stir and twitter with sound, and car engines would herald workers begin their trek to commence an early shift.

Dawn’s break would bring men and women out for their early morning run, and the day would begin.

Sunday indicated recreation and relaxation for some. The beach, time spent cruising the inner harbour waters, following cultural pursuits, entertaining guests, sporting activities.

Maybe she’d give Lacey a call and suggest they share part of the day together. Shop a little, linger over a latte at one of their favoured cafés.

There was pleasure in the thought, and a sense of encroaching drowsiness…something she fought, unaware of Loukas’ thoughtful gaze as her eyelids slowly drifted down.

For several long minutes he viewed her softened features, noted her even breathing, then he rose quietly to his feet and carefully lifted her into his arms.

She didn’t stir, and he carried her easily into the house, reset security, then he took her upstairs to their room.

He breathed in the clean smell of her hair combined with the soft drift of her perfume, and tamped down the stirring of desire.

Feelings he hadn’t expected to experience, born from an emotion he consciously chose not to explore.

The covers were thrown back on the bed Alesha had occupied, and she uttered a faint protest as he relinquished his hold.

With easy economical movements he shed his jeans, tee shirt, snapped off the bed-lamp and slid into bed beside her.

With extreme care he enfolded her slender body close in against him, felt her stir, and he soothed a hand over her hair…again and again, until a soft sigh emerged from her throat and she relaxed against him in sleep, her cheek resting into the curve of his shoulder.

He could offer her safety, and hold her through the night. Be there for her, and help soothe her fears.

Of the many social functions Alesha had attended in the past, tonight’s fundraiser took precedence, and was one in which she maintained a personal interest.

Children who’d suffered abuse at the hands of those who professed to love them. Adults, whose trust they deserved, yet failed to receive. The varying shades of grey to the deepest black, covering circumstances too grim for the average person to comprehend.

Tonight a few children’s plight would be highlighted in order to touch the guests’ hearts and persuade them to give generously.

Alesha chose a black bandage-design gown that hugged her slender curves and showcased delicate-textured skin. She confined jewellery to a slender gold necklace with matching ear-studs and bracelet, and black killer heels completed the outfit.

Minimum make-up, with emphasis on her eyes, she opted to leave her hair loose in a soft feminine style.

The event drew a pleasing number of guests, and she stood at Loukas’ side sipping champagne, acutely aware of his close proximity.

He portrayed the man he was…sophisticated, urbane, highly intelligent, successful. And he wore the verbal labels with ease, comfortable in his own skin with little, if anything, to prove.

And he was hers.

Well, not in the truest sense…yet. She bore his name, wore his ring, and she…liked him.

Admit it, you find him stunningly attractive. Sexy…incredibly sexy, she amended. And there was a part of her that craved the intimacy she instinctively rejected.

So why did she feel as if she were treading eggshells, aware she consciously watched everything she said, every action, in case it was misconstrued.

At work, home, and on social occasions such as this when she played the part of recently married happy wife.

A young woman who, by all accounts, should be ecstatic to be bedding one of the most eligible men on planet earth.

‘Penny for them?’

She tilted her head and gifted him a teasing smile. ‘Not for sharing, at any price.’

Loukas’ mouth curved a little, and the hand resting at the base of her spine brushed a light trail up her back to linger at the lower edge of her nape.

Sensation spiralled through her body, and it took conscious effort to hold his dark gaze.

Dear heaven, she was almost flirting with him…for real. Not the best idea, given the tenuous quality of their relationship.

Yet it was fun, almost safe. Although was it? If you played with fire, you tended to get burnt.

So chill, and don’t risk conflagration.

Their table was well placed, the company stimulating, and the food delectable.

The speeches held a poignancy that speared her heart, and her eyes clouded…for she could envisage so much more than the mere words conveyed. At one point her fingers tightened into a fist, and her lacquered nails dug into her palm. No one should be a victim of abuse…dear heaven, especially never a child.

Almost as if he sensed her torment, Loukas placed his hand over hers until she released her grip. His silent presence and strength comforted her and she gave him a tentative smile and returned his hold on her hand, suddenly glad he was there with her this evening.

The entertainment for the night comprised a designer fashion showing, with elegant models parading the catwalk, followed by an auction of the garments with a generous percentage gifted to the charity.

It lightened the evening, with the auctioneer really getting into the swing of it, encouraging bidders to raise the stakes.

One gown caught Alesha’s interest, a deep red silk with spaghetti straps attached to a beautiful ruched bodice and a soft floor-length tiered skirt.

Loukas indicated his bid, and escalated it by increments until it reached an exorbitant amount and the one remaining bidder pulled out.

Alesha leaned towards him and said in a subdued but scandalized voice, ‘Are you crazy?’

‘It’s a worthy cause.’ His voice held a teasing indolence as he brushed his lips to her temple. ‘And the gown is perfect for you.’

Oh, my. For an instant the room and everyone in it faded into nothing as his eyes locked with her own, and something violently sweet coursed through her body.

His mouth curved into an easy smile, almost as if he knew.

‘Thanks.’ On impulse she pressed her lips to his cheek…at least that was her intention, except he moved and her mouth met his own, and a light kiss became something else as he savoured her briefly before lifting his head.

Colour filled her cheeks, and he trailed light fingers over the soft heat, then skimmed over one shoulder to rest at the edge of her waist.

‘Dear Alesha,’ a light feminine voice intruded. ‘So nice to see you happy in your new marriage.’

Recovery was swift as she summoned a smile and turned towards the woman who’d stopped by to offer congratulations, only to have her heart sink.

Nicolette de Silva had a reputation for lacking tact. Even the kindest amongst her coterie of friends admitted Nicolette didn’t think before she opened her mouth.

‘Her brief liaison with that terrible man was a disaster,’ Nicolette confided to Loukas. ‘But then, of course, you know about that?’

‘Naturally.’ His voice was smooth as silk. Sufficiently so that most people would immediately cease pursuing the subject and move on.

‘There were rumours, some of them extreme.’ Nicolette offered a conciliatory smile. ‘I believe Seth Armitage tried to sell his side of the story to the media, but nothing came of it, isn’t that right, Alesha?’

Alesha’s fingers clenched beneath the cover of the tablecloth, and she tensed as Loukas again took her hand in his and traced soothing fingers across the pulsing veins at her wrist.

Support? Whatever, it felt…pleasant, comforting.

A double whammy, she admitted silently as the action increased her pulse-beat and made her increasingly aware of him.

She tried to tell herself she was immune to gossip. Three years on she’d heard it all…first and second-hand. The inquisitive comments she chose not to concede or deny. The false expressions of sympathy. Each a quest for information she refused to give.

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