‘I imagine that is the point of this charade, is it not?’ Theo was stroking that wineglass the way he’d once stroked her body and Holly was certain it was deliberate. That he knew exactly what that slow sweep of his tapered, too-strong fingers against the glass did inside of her. ‘What do you want from me?’
‘I told you what I wanted.’
It was hard to keep her voice even when he was on the other side of such a tiny little table, his intense physicality, his rampant maleness, like an industrial-force magnet. Holly had forgotten that, somehow. She’d forgotten that so much of being near Theo was being utterly helpless and under his spell. In his thrall. She’d had to leave him or disappear into him, never to be seen again, and she remembered why now. She could feel it, like a black hole, sucking her in all over again—the same way this same kind of destructive love had sucked in her father all those years ago. She’d watched how this ended before. Why did she think it could be different now?
She kept her gaze level on Theo’s and tried not to think about her parents. ‘A divorce.’
Greek’s Last Redemption
Caitlin Crews
www.millsandboon.co.uk
CAITLIN CREWSloves writing romance. She teaches her favourite romance novels in creative writing classes at places like UCLA Extension’s prestigious Writers’ Program, where she finally utilises the MA and PhD in English Literature she received from the University of York in England. She currently lives in California with her very own hero and too many pets. Visit her at www.caitlincrews.com.
To Pippa Roscoe, for being her fabulous self, especially in Texas.
And to Kelly Conroy, for sharing her Barcelona with me. I hope I brought it to life, at least a little bit!
Contents
Cover
Introduction ‘I imagine that is the point of this charade, is it not?’ Theo was stroking that wineglass the way he’d once stroked her body and Holly was certain it was deliberate. That he knew exactly what that slow sweep of his tapered, too-strong fingers against the glass did inside of her. ‘What do you want from me?’ ‘I told you what I wanted.’ It was hard to keep her voice even when he was on the other side of such a tiny little table, his intense physicality, his rampant maleness, like an industrial-force magnet. Holly had forgotten that, somehow. She’d forgotten that so much of being near Theo was being utterly helpless and under his spell. In his thrall. She’d had to leave him or disappear into him, never to be seen again, and she remembered why now. She could feel it, like a black hole, sucking her in all over again—the same way this same kind of destructive love had sucked in her father all those years ago. She’d watched how this ended before. Why did she think it could be different now? She kept her gaze level on Theo’s and tried not to think about her parents. ‘A divorce.’
The Chatsfield
Title Page Greek’s Last Redemption Caitlin Crews www.millsandboon.co.uk
About the Author CAITLIN CREWS loves writing romance. She teaches her favourite romance novels in creative writing classes at places like UCLA Extension’s prestigious Writers’ Program, where she finally utilises the MA and PhD in English Literature she received from the University of York in England. She currently lives in California with her very own hero and too many pets. Visit her at www.caitlincrews.com .
Dedication To Pippa Roscoe, for being her fabulous self, especially in Texas. And to Kelly Conroy, for sharing her Barcelona with me. I hope I brought it to life, at least a little bit!
Harrington Family Tree
Chatsfield Family Tree
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Extras
Extract
Endpages
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
THEO TSOUKATOS SCOWLED when his office door swung open despite the fact he’d given strict orders that he wasn’t to be disturbed. He expected his orders to be followed—and they usually were, because no one who worked for him enjoyed the consequences when they were not.
He was becoming more like his widely feared father by the day, he thought grimly. Which he could tolerate as long as that was only true here, in the business sphere. God help him if he ever acted like his father in his personal life.
Never , he vowed, as he had since he was a child. I will never let that happen.
“I trust the building is on fire?” he asked his secretary icily as she marched inside, because it could only be a crisis that brought her in here against his instructions, surely. He glowered at her. “Or is about to be?”
“Not as far as I’m aware,” she retorted, appearing utterly unperturbed by his aggressive tone. Mrs. Papadopoulos, who reminded him of his hatchet-faced, steely-haired and pursed-mouthed aunt and acted about as enamored of Theo as Aunt Despina always had been, was meant to keep him from distractions rather than cause them. “But it’s early yet.”
Theo sighed his impatience. He was in the middle of compiling the rest of his notes on fuel efficiency and trim optimization strategies for the meeting that he’d be running in his father’s stead today, now that wily old Demetrious Tsoukatos was focusing more on his mounting medical issues than on the family business. He glanced out the wall of windows surrounding him and saw all of Athens arrayed at his feet, the sprawling commotion and hectic madness of the greatest city in Greece serving as a reminder, the way it always did.
That all that rose must fall—before rising again, stronger than before.
That was the unspoken Tsoukatos family creed. It was the story of Theo’s own life, certainly. It was built into every inch of the proud Tsoukatos tower, where Theo now sat. Just like the steel girders themselves that made the building an imposing physical testament to his shipping magnate father’s searing vision and ruthless success in the face of all obstacles, from sworn enemies to the faltering economy.
These days, the tower stood as a marker of Theo’s own growing reputation as a fearless risk taker and out-of-the-box thinker in a business cluttered by those who played it safe straight into bankruptcy. That wasn’t going to happen to the Tsoukatos fleet. Theo might have acted the spoiled heir apparent for most of his twenties, but in the past four years he’d dedicated himself to proving he was every bit as formidable and intimidating as the old man himself.
It turned out he was good at this. As if ruthless power really did run in his veins the way his father had always assured him it did. Or should.
And he’d decided he could emulate his father here, in the boardroom, where that kind of ruthlessness was a positive thing. Theo’s own personal life might have been a mess, such as it was, but not for the same reasons Demetrious’s had been. I may not be happy , he often told himself fiercely, but at least I’m not a liar, a cheater or a hypocrite.
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