“Am I so hard to remember?”

Not as hard as you are to forget. The thought sprang from nowhere, and as much as Alex hated the truth of it, it was undeniable.

He hadn’t forgotten, either. But the way he looked at her now told her he was remembering different things—like the way she’d turned her back on him. The way she’d left him cold.

He was a different person from that boy she’d met so long ago. Well, she’d changed, too. She was older, wiser, a mother. The mother of his son!

Trish Morey is a hot new Australian author! Harlequin Presents® is proud to present Trish’s passionate and provocative debut novel THE GREEK BOSS’S DEMAND

Harlequin Presents®

They’re the men who have everything—except brides…

Wealth, power, charm—what else could a handsome tycoon need? In THE GREEK TYCOONS miniseries, you have already met some gorgeous Greek multimillionaires who are in need of wives.

Now meet tall, dark and handsome Nick Santos in Trish Morey’s

The Greek Boss’s Demand

This tycoon thought he was rekindling a romance but discovers there’s more at stake than just his passion!

Coming in March:

The Greek’s Seven-Day Seduction

by Susan Stephens

#2455

The Greek Boss’s Demand
Trish Morey

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For Gavin, who always believed.

And for Jane, who helped make it possible.

Thanks, guys

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

A PROPERTY company!

What was Nick Santos supposed to do with a half-share in a property company all the way over here in Australia? Especially one that by rights should have gone in its entirety to his cousin Sofia.

Taking note of the flashing light over his head, Nick duly fastened his seat belt for the descent into Sydney.

He’d never thought of his uncle Aristos as having a sense of humour, but he had to have been joking to come up with this scheme.

Half the company on condition that he stay and head up the business for six months, teaching Sofia whatever she needed to know to run the business herself.

It was crystal-clear what his late uncle had intended by his strange bequest. Nick was no stranger to the practice of arranged marriages, and he wasn’t about to have one foisted on him.

As soon as he’d paid his respects to Sofia he’d gift her the balance of the company by leaving Australia and forfeiting his share of the inheritance. He didn’t need the hassle when there were more important issues to consider at home—even if he had left the business in the safe hands of Dimitri, his second in charge.

He settled back into his seat, taking in the view as the plane came in for landing.

So this was Sydney. He caught a glimpse of the Sydney Harbour Bridge, with the Opera House nestled alongside—architectural icons of the busy harbour—before city buildings swallowed up the view and he had to content himself with watching the endless procession of red roofs and blue backyard pools skating under the plane as it descended steadily towards the airport.

In spite of the disruption to his schedules he could almost thank Aristos for finally getting him here. He’d grown up hearing tales of fortunes to be made in the new world. His mother’s brother had made a success of it, that much was sure.

And he’d met a few Australians in his time. One in particular stuck in his mind—a girl he’d met on the island of Crete. Years ago now.

She’d been all pale skin and freckles, with long blonde hair and smiling blue eyes that infected you with laughter. Together they’d explored the crumbling ruins that dotted the island, and her fascination and boundless enthusiasm over the remnants of a civilisation so ancient had been contagious. She’d made him feel guilty that even as a student of archaeology he tended to take his country’s rich history for granted. Yet at the same time she’d also made him feel proud to be Greek. She had been beautiful, vibrant and spirited—and, as it turned out, fickle.

He exhaled a long breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and stretched back travel-weary shoulders into the wide first-class seat.

The plane touched down and taxied to the terminal, finally pulling to a halt. Everyone around him was stirring, impatient from the long flight and eager to clear Customs in the least amount of time. A smiling flight attendant appeared at his arm with his jacket.

He nodded his thanks and forced his mind back to the present.

That spring was a long time ago, and right now he had more pressing problems to think about. His place was not here. He belonged back in Greece. And as soon as he had sorted out this unusual bequest that was exactly where he was headed.

CHAPTER TWO

ALEX opened the office door and slammed into her past.

Nick Santos!

She had to be dreaming. Nick was back home in Athens, running the family engineering empire. He had no business here in Sydney, standing in the foyer of the Xenophon Property Group.

Especially not today, with the office reopening after Aristos’s heart attack and funeral, when she was already days behind in getting out the monthly rental invoices, and with the new boss—some far-flung relative—expected at any time.

Not today? Who was she kidding? Not ever.

But it couldn’t be Nick.

She blinked, but when she opened her eyes he was still there.

And it was still Nick.

Strange how there was no way she could mistake him—how she could be so absolutely positive, even after all this time. Even though he was standing there with his back to her, talking to Sofia, still she knew it was him—sensed it was him—with just a glimpse of profile and the wave of thick, dark hair licking at the collar of his oh-so-white shirt. Knew it from his stance, manly and confident. Knew it in the message her heart was suddenly beating.

Adrenalin danced with her pulse, readying her for fight or flight. No contest. There was no way her feet would move forward. Not even the welcoming scent of the coffee machine’s fresh brew could beckon her inside. She would back out right now, quickly, and he would never see her. Maybe by the time she came back he’d be gone, back out of her life, back into her past where he belonged.

She let her arm go slack on the door, letting it fall back towards her. Maybe, if she was quiet…

‘There you are,’ Sofia called, stepping out from behind his shoulder, looking every part the grieving daughter in her black silk skirt suit, her dark hair tied back into a sleek, high ponytail. And before she’d had a chance to respond he’d spun around, arresting her retreat with the sheer impact of his features so that the only movement she was capable of was the involuntary quiver that descended her spine. His dark eyes narrowed, his gaze sweeping her from top to toe before settling on her face. Then his nostrils flared as his lips curved ever so slightly.

‘So it is you,’ he stated, his chin kicking up a notch.

She swallowed hard. In the eight-plus years since she’d seen Nick she’d often imagined what their first words would be and how he would say them if ever they met again. Not once had she imagined Nick would coldly and dispassionately come out with something like, ‘So it is you.’

‘Who were you expecting?’ she said, finally convincing her muscles there was no way out of it but to push open the door and enter the lobby. ‘Kylie Minogue?’

She winced inwardly at the harshness of her words. Damn, but how were you supposed to think in situations like this?

‘Alex?’ Sofia turned from one to the other, confusion apparent on her face. ‘I want to introduce you to my cousin, Nick Santos, who arrived yesterday. But…am I missing something here?’

She couldn’t talk. Her throat too tight, her mouth ashen. And all the while Nick just kept on watching her intently, until she felt pinned down in the accusing gaze of his bottomless dark eyes. He had a score to settle with her; that much his hard-edged glare made clear. Aside from that, he was obviously as unimpressed at seeing her as she was stunned at seeing him.

It was Nick who finally broke the impasse.

‘Alexandra and I have met before. Haven’t we?’

Under his continuing scrutiny the laptop in her hand suddenly felt unbearably heavy, threatening to slip from her damp palm. She screwed her fingers tighter around the handle till her fingernails dug painfully but reassuringly into her skin. That was her laptop taken care of. Now she just had to focus on making sure her knees held up.

‘I guess so,’ she managed at last. ‘At least I’m pretty sure we have. It was such a long time ago.’

A muscle twitched in Nick’s cheek.

‘Am I so hard to remember?’

Not as hard as you are to forget. The thought sprang from nowhere and, as much as Alex hated the truth of it, it was undeniable. Long nights alone, remembering their shared time back on Crete and wishing things could have turned out differently, were testament to that.

He hadn’t forgotten either. But the way he looked at her now told her he was remembering different things—like the way she’d turned her back on him. The way she’d left him cold.

She took a deep breath, but Sofia was too impatient to wait for her response in a conversation that was obviously far too personal for her liking.

‘Spill the beans, you two. So how do you know each other?’

Nick’s eyes bored into Alex. The cold heat of them was like a kick in the gut.

‘How about it? Or are you having trouble remembering that too?’

She raised her chin a fraction and shifted her gaze to Sofia. Her brain was still in shock at seeing Nick after all this time, and it was much easier trying to think while she wasn’t looking directly at him. Where the damning questions in his eyes couldn’t reach her.

And she had to think. Had to calm down. Sofia was still raw from the shocking death of her father. Even under the mask of her professionally applied makeup the shadows and puffiness around her eyes were all too evident. Sofia certainly didn’t need Alex’s baggage on top of her own.

‘Crete. About—’ She stopped and licked her lips. No need to be too specific. ‘Some years ago. I was on holiday with my family. Nick was working in his university break on an archaeological dig. We met at the palace of Minos.’

‘Cool,’ said Sofia, although Alex noted the word she’d used mirrored her tone. Sofia was obviously less than impressed. ‘So, did you know he was related to Aristos?’

‘No, I had no ide—’

A cold ooze of dread rolled over her. God, no! Not that relative of Aristos? Not the one who was taking over the company?

‘Way cool! Then I hardly have to introduce you to each other. That’s going to make it easier, with you guys working together.’

Alex couldn’t think of anything less cool as her world tilted and spun. When the direct line in her office rang, it was all she could do not to run and answer it.

‘Excuse me,’ she said instead, adding, ‘I’m expecting this call. We’ll have to catch up later.’ Then she moved as quickly as she could while desperately trying to keep her balance on a planet that was shifting further off axis with every step.

She shut the door, plonked her laptop on the desk and somehow dealt with the phone call while all the time her brain was registering only two words. Nick—here!

One hour later, Alex was still staring at the walls, the screensaver on her laptop the only sign of life in the room. How long she could stay secreted away in her office, she didn’t know—but she’d do whatever it took to have as little to do with Nick Santos as possible, and until she had some sort of plan she didn’t want to go anywhere near him.

It was weird, seeing him after so many years. Strange how they’d both thought themselves so grown up back then. He had seemed so strong and so much a man. At twenty-one he’d been more worldly and experienced than her. Yet now she could see how young they’d been. For it was obvious that the boy had become a man.

He looked every part the professional businessman. Gone was the long fringe that he’d used to flick out of his eyes with the toss of his head, replaced by a short, slick style. His dark features, even back then resonant with hidden depths, now seemed to sit more comfortably in a more mature face. Even his shoulders seemed broader.

He was a different person, clearly, from that boy she’d met so long ago.

Well, she’d changed too.

She was older, wiser, a mother.

The mother of his son!

Something like a garbled cry escaped from her lips.

Jason!

How in heaven’s name was she going to prevent him from finding out about Jason?

CHAPTER THREE

A BRIEF knock on her door made her look up, only to find Nick filling the space where the door had been.

She swallowed.

‘What do you want?’

Nick took a step into her office, eyebrows raised.

‘Is that any way to greet an old friend? It’s not as if we’re strangers after all.’

‘It was a long time ago. You almost feel like a stranger.’

He hesitated. Tilted his head to one side.

‘You have no idea how I feel, Alexandra.’

His words, and the flat way in which he delivered them, made her swallow. But that was nothing to how she felt when he moved closer to the desk. Panic pooled in her every cell.

Then he suddenly turned. For just a second Alex felt relief, but only for a second. She heard Nick mutter, ‘Just wait—I’ll be with you soon,’ before closing the door. Alex caught a flash of black as Sofia, looking indignant, rushed by, then it swung shut and Nick wheeled and moved back across the office until he was standing just across the desk from her.

And then he was looking down at her—dark, threatening and dangerous—and all Alex could think about was the pressure bearing down on top of her.

The pressure of being confronted by this man, her first love—her first lover—the pressure of knowing he was part of Aristos’s world and had never been a real part of hers—the pressure of knowing the secret that lay between them like a chasm.

The chair-back pressed into her as she attempted, however fractionally, to increase the distance between them.

‘Alexandra—’

She squeezed her eyes shut. The way he still said her name, just as he had back then, squeezing out the syllables till they seemed to curl in his rich, Mediterranean accent. Nobody had ever said her name like Nick had those weeks in Crete. It had made her feel sexy back then.

Only now she couldn’t let it affect her. She was all grown up and things like that were the stuff of teenagers and holidays and holding hands. She was over it.

‘Alexandra.’

She sucked in a breath, opened her eyes and forced what she hoped would pass as a businesslike expression onto her face.

‘I guess you’ll need to check the accounts, find out how the company is going. Our tax position—all that stuff.’

He blinked slowly. ‘There’s time for that later.’

‘Good,’ Alex said, a little too fast. ‘I’m kind of busy at the moment…’ She shuffled a few papers on her desk for effect. ‘Maybe I could drop the accounts into you later? I imagine you want to get things sorted out here and head back to Greece as soon as you can.’

Nick’s eyes narrowed as he propped himself down on the edge of her desk and leaned dangerously close to her.

‘I can see you’re in the middle of something very important,’ he whispered conspiratorially, nodding towards the computer. She followed his gesture and felt her cheeks heat till she was sure they matched the colour of the rosy-coloured pipe powering a cubic path around her computer screen.

Her hand reached out on impulse, but she snatched it back short of the keyboard. Better the screensaver right now than her desktop. Not with a photograph of Jason beaming out from it.

She looked up at him and grabbed a breath, anxious to steer the conversation to safe territory—wherever that might be.

‘I was thinking…’

Both his eyebrows went up this time and he leaned over to swipe a pen from right in front of her, getting so close as to fill her senses with the subtle scent of his cologne overlaying the unmistakable essence of man. For a second it took her breath away, her line of thought erased, and she had no choice but to sit and watch as he began to tap the pen against the fingers of his other hand.

‘Very reassuring to hear my uncle employed people who can think.’ He looked around, assessing the pale honey-coloured walls, the bookshelves and filing cabinets, as if taking an inventory. ‘But what do you actually do in this spacious office of yours?’

His jibe focused her attention once more, and she straightened her spine, forced her head up higher. ‘I imagine you’ve already discussed the staff and our responsibilities with Sofia.’

The pen kept tapping.

‘I want to hear it from you.’

It was impossible not to feel intimidated by the man. From the edge of her desk he dominated the space before her, looming large and much too close. She looked up at him, feeling her eyes narrow as she tried to work out where he was coming from. No doubt he already had plans in mind for the company. Where did she fit in with those plans?

She needed this job. With a brand-new mortgage to her name, the first chance she’d had to find a real home for her and Jason, now she needed it more than ever. Aristos hadn’t been the easiest boss, but the chance to get out of their poky flat and into a real house with a real backyard was worth anything her former boss had been able to dish out. Now that Nick was the boss, what would he dish out?

‘All right. I’m Financial Administrator for the Xenophon Group. I’ve been here for almost two years, though I haven’t been doing this job all that time.’

The pen stopped tapping. ‘No. That’s what Sofia said. You started out on Reception—is that right?’

Before she could answer she noticed the beat of the pen start up again and felt herself frown. If he was trying to get on her nerves he was doing an excellent job.

‘But then the previous two accountants left…?’ The query was apparent in his eyes. ‘They were no good?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, but your uncle wasn’t the easiest person to get on with. He was a demanding boss.’

‘My uncle started out with nothing and built a fortune in property worth millions. Of course he would expect a lot from his employees.’

‘Of course he did. And he got that—and more. But he was difficult as a boss. Impossible at times. If he was in the office he was shouting. In both cases they were good accountants, but Aristos was always shouting at them for one thing or another—I don’t think he trusted them to look after his affairs—and they just got sick of it. In the end they walked out, one after the other. The second one only lasted three months. Someone had to fill the gap immediately, and Sofia offered to look after Reception if I would do it. I’d been helping both of them out and it really wasn’t such a big deal.’

‘And Aristos didn’t employ another accountant? Why would he keep a receptionist in such a position of responsibility?’

Alex bristled. ‘Maybe because I do the job well.’

He didn’t look convinced.

‘If it’s any consolation, I think Aristos was surprised too. He was intending to advertise, but the employment agency didn’t seem too confident they could find the right person for this job—word had got back to them, obviously—and things here were going well. I was already studying for a business diploma at night—so he was relieved not to have to find someone else.’

And pay them accountant’s wages. If there was one thing Aristos loved more than bellowing his commands it had been a bargain, and with her he’d got a cheap accountant—even with the extra he’d reluctantly agreed to pay over her former receptionist’s salary.

‘Funny, but I don’t remember the young Alexandra looking forward to spending her life as some bean-counter.’

Alex went rigid. She’d relaxed a little, talking about her job, thinking about things present. He’d just transported her slap-bang into the past. A past she’d rather steer clear of now.

‘Funny, but I don’t think of myself as a “bean-counter”.’ She ploughed on, ignoring the black look he threw her. ‘Besides, I don’t think I knew what I wanted back then.’

She certainly hadn’t known what she’d need back then. Had had no idea she’d have a son to support with no chance of finishing school for years. Had never realised how hard it would be to try and manage time with her son when she had a full-time job and night school study. Hadn’t known how hard it would be to earn enough money to put a deposit on an ageing two-bedroom bungalow in the suburbs.

He tapped the pen loudly once more, this time on her desk, snapping her out of her thoughts. ‘And Aristos didn’t shout at you?’

She laughed a little, relieved he was talking about the more recent past once more. ‘Sure, he shouted. He shouted at everyone—including Sofia. But as a property investor, he wrote the book. I learned a lot working for him.’

It was true. It might have been unbearable, just as it had proved for the former employees, except she’d needed the money and the experience more. A few years in this job and she’d be finished with her diploma and could get a decent job with better pay. Aristos had given her a chance and she’d grasped it. For all his faults, he’d at least given her this opportunity, and she owed him for that.

But Aristos was gone, and it was his nephew now sitting in front of her. And yet still she hadn’t even offered the merest of condolences.

‘The news about your uncle must have come as quite a shock. I’m sorry…’

He watched her for a second, but it was as if his eyes were shuttered. Then he slammed the pen down on the desk in the same instant as he heaved himself away. He took a few steps, one hand rubbing his nape.

‘It was a shock—but nothing compared to what Sofia is contending with. To have lost her mother to cancer a decade ago, and now to lose her father so suddenly…’ He sighed, and for a moment looked so lost in his own thoughts that she sensed there was more to his statement than just compassion for his cousin.

He turned suddenly to face her, his eyes dark and fathomless. ‘My mother, Helena, was step-sister to Aristos. She died some six years back herself. Aristos and my father were as close as brothers while they were both alive, even though I didn’t know him that well.’

Alex swallowed. She’d never met Nick’s parents—but she’d heard enough about his father way back then to scare her socks off. It came as no surprise that he was related, even by marriage, to Aristos.

Even so, they had been Nick’s parents. Jason’s grandparents. And now he would never have the opportunity to meet them. Guilt stabbed deeper inside her.

When would she stop paying for the decision she’d made so long ago? The decision she knew was the right one.

‘Your parents…I didn’t know…’ She shook her head. ‘What happened to your father?’

‘Why should you know?’ he asked sharply, as if she had no right. Then his voice softened. ‘About two years ago now he drove off a bridge. Drowned before he could be rescued.’

‘That’s awful,’ said Alex. When they’d been on Crete both Nick’s and her own parents had been alive. It had been less than nine years ago and now Nick’s parents had gone. How long before hers too were no longer here?

She’d see them at Christmas, when they were planning to travel across the country from Perth to visit. But that was still weeks away. She’d call them tonight. The thought that they wouldn’t be there for ever…it was unimaginable.

To be so alone… She sucked in a breath. As she had countless times before, she thanked her lucky stars her sister Tilly had also chosen to make her home in Sydney, to pursue her growing wedding planner career. At least she had some family close by. For all that she was struggling to make ends meet, at least she had someone to turn to, someone to give her moral support when things got too bad. Sofia had no one. And nor, it seemed, did Nick.

‘I really am sorry. I had no idea.’

Nick stopped pacing and stood, propping his arms on the back of the visitor’s chair. His exhale came out like a sigh. ‘In a way it was a release for my father. I think he’d stopped living years before, when Stavros died.’ His eyes bore the pain of loss and tragedy, and as they sought and found hers something connected between them.

He remembered. She could tell.

It was the last time they’d spoken. She’d rung, flushed with excitement at her news. After months of hiding the truth she’d finally held her baby—their baby—and known that in spite of all the powerful reasons why she shouldn’t tell him she simply had to. He had a right to know he was a father. That he had a son.

Only when she’d finally made the connection to Nick’s house it had been to find the family in mourning for the eldest son.

How did you say, I’m sorry your brother is dead and congratulations—today you became a father in the same sentence? How did you drop a bombshell like that into a grieving family and expect them to embrace a new branch of the family they didn’t know existed and wouldn’t want to know? Not after what had happened to Stavros.

Realising that no one in his family would ever believe her, let alone welcome her news, Alex had hung up the phone, keeping her secret and knowing she’d never speak to Nick again.

Stavros had been killed, Nick had become the new heir to the family fortune, and it had been obvious there could never be a future with Nick—neither for her nor their newborn child.

Alex rubbed her arms. It was cold in here. She’d have to check the wall thermostat. But not now. Not until Nick had left her office and there was no chance of getting anywhere near him.

His eyes narrowed until they glinted and he straightened behind the chair.

‘Something frightened you away. Is that it? Is that why you never returned my calls after that?’ His words speared through her consciousness to places she’d rather not go. It was one thing to know she’d done the right thing. It was another thing entirely to have to explain it.

‘Nick, I don’t think we need to rehash all that. It’s in the past. Let it stay there.’

‘No. I think the least you can do is offer me an explanation.’

Alex stiffened in her chair. What relationship they’d had had been over for the better part of nine years, and here he was, larger than life, insisting on the whys and wherefores. Talk about inflated male ego! As if it mattered now.

‘Let it go—’

‘Was it another man?’ He threw a glance to her left hand. ‘You’re not married, but was there someone back then?’

‘Look, it’s not important—’

‘So it was another man. Why else would you just stop communicating? I tried to call you. I wrote to you.’

‘We moved—’

‘I didn’t. You knew where to find me.’ Accusation was layered thickly in his eyes. ‘So why else would you never return my calls? Why never answer my letters unless you were too busy in someone else’s bed?’

Enough! Incensed, Alex pushed herself up from her chair. She’d had enough of looking up to him. And she was sick of putting up with his slurs.

‘Drop it, Nick.’

‘I demand to know what happened!’

Alex glared at him, at that moment totally wondering how she’d ever held the notion that she’d loved this guy. ‘I grew up.’ The hard way. ‘End of story.’

‘It’s no wonder you’ve never married, if that’s the way you treat men. If you want my advice—’

Alex’s hands curled into tight fists.

‘As a matter of fact,’ she cut in, ‘I don’t want your advice. I don’t need your advice. And, given that you don’t appear to be married either, are you completely sure you’re in any position to give advice?’

In that moment Nick’s face might have been cast from concrete. It seemed all harsh angles and rigid planes, and she could tell he was battling to keep the fury he was obviously feeling under control.

Well, bully for him. She was furious too. How dared the brute think he could waltz back into her life and start criticising?

A muscle in his cheek twitched. ‘You’ve changed, Alexandra. You are still as beautiful as you were then, maybe even more so, but you’ve changed on the inside.’

I’ve had to! Her mind told her to remain strong and resolute. It shouldn’t matter what he said about her looks. And it wouldn’t. She wouldn’t let it.

She sucked in one unsteady breath, battled to get her speech back to something resembling normality. ‘Please leave. I have work to do.’

When he remained there motionless it was obvious that he had no intention of complying with her request. If she wanted him out of her office she was going to have to make him leave herself.

She stepped around the desk. ‘I’ll see you to the door.’

There was at least four feet between them and she’d mentally assessed the risk. There was no chance of them coming close to each other. In a moment she’d be safely behind the open door, ushering him out, and some sort of peace could again reign in her office.

Halfway there his hand seized her arm, halting her in her tracks. His grip burned, his hand looking so large on her forearm that her heart tripped. She’d known that touch before, known the strength of it, and yet the tenderness that could accompany it. Only there was none of that tenderness now. Now she sensed anger, and her heart raced fast and loud as adrenalin kicked in once again.

‘Alexandra,’ he said, half demanding, yet half imploring. She closed her eyes briefly and willed herself not to be affected by the mere sound of her name.

‘Let me go.’ Her voice sounded amazingly calm and level and she took strength from that.

But he didn’t let go. His grip changed. Instead of just holding her, it was tugging her, forcing her closer to him. They were close enough now that she could catch the tang of his subtle cologne, the faint remnants of his coffee, all infused with the scent of man—angry man.

‘Alexandra?’

Her elbow was still locked, her arm held firm, as she looked up into his eyes. Breath caught in her throat as anger was replaced by something else. Something darker and far more dangerous.

In that instant he relaxed his hold, and with the pressure off she immediately lost balance, swaying on her heels, only to be pulled unceremoniously back into him in the next moment.

Impacting against his chest was like colliding with solid rock—only warm and smooth and, oh, so familiar. She sucked in a deep breath, her senses reeling from so much male so close. Something in the back of her mind registered that Nick hadn’t changed that much. Somehow this was just the way she remembered he’d felt back then. Maybe just a little broader and more developed, but just the way she’d imagined, late at night when she couldn’t sleep, thinking how he’d feel now.

Only this was all wrong!

‘Let me go!’ she urged, trying to push him away. But his arms snaked around her, holding her tight.

She pulled her head back to look up at him. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing? This is harassment. You can’t try these caveman tactics here.’

‘Harassment?’ His tone mocked and his eyes held a teasing glint.

An unkind, teasing glint she registered. Life had apparently left Nick bitter.

Then she realised he was moving, swaying ever so gently, the fingers of his hands stroking her back while his arms still kept their vice-like grip. The motion was disarming, gently soothing and strangely sensual.

‘Hardly harassment,’ he went on. ‘Don’t you remember how it was between us? We’re simply sharing an embrace, and perhaps a kiss for old times’ sake.’

Alarm bells went off in her head. No way. No way would she kiss him. He couldn’t be serious.

Firmly she pressed her hands against Nick’s chest and pushed for all she was worth. ‘I have no intention of sharing anything with you.’

He must have seen something in her face because he looked down at her strangely, stopped swaying and abruptly let her go. Alex wheeled away before he had a chance to change his mind, her breath coming thick and fast. She grabbed hold of the door handle and screwed it round, yanking open the door for him.

He stood for a moment, taking a couple of deep breaths. He strode to the door, came so close to her she was afraid he might just kiss her anyway. ‘There was once a time you would beg me to kiss you, again and again.’

She pushed back her shoulders, tried as best as she could to look him in the eye—even though he had a head start of six inches on her.

‘Times have changed.’

He reached out a hand and she flinched, but his fingers moved to the side of her face to tuck behind her ear a strand that had come loose from her twisted up hair. She swallowed, otherwise motionless, as they traced a path down her cheek before he gently but firmly pinched her chin between his thumb and fore-finger.

‘Not for the better, it seems.’

He flicked off his fingers and she fumbled for something to say.

‘I…I’ll get some financial statements ready for you. I guess you’ll want to get things organised quickly, to allow you to get back to Greece as soon as you can.’

She could swear he almost smiled then. A smile that didn’t touch anywhere near his eyes.

‘Who said anything about going home to Greece? I may just decide to stay the full six months Aristos’s will requires.’

Then he was finally gone. Alex shut the door and let herself collapse against it. It was barely eleven in the morning and she felt as if she’d just run a marathon.

How in the world would she survive six months?

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