‘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.

The Andreou Marriage Arrangement

BY

Helen Bianchin

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover Page

Excerpt

About The Author

Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

Copyright

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

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.