Catherine George - Eligible Greeks - Tycoon's Revenge

‘Thanos—I hope you’re enjoying the exhibition. May I introduce you to a fellow art-lover?’ Crispin drew Tahlia forward. ‘This is Tahlia Reynolds. Her company, Reynolds Gems, have sponsored Rufus throughout his career, and she has an expert knowledge of his work.’

Shock ripped through Thanos as he stared at the woman at Crispin Blythe’s side. She had dominated his thoughts for so long that for a few seconds his brain struggled to comprehend that she was standing in front of him, and it took all his formidable will-power to school his expression into one of polite interest rather than murderous rage.

He had arrived in London three days ago, and at a dinner party with friends had been introduced to Crispin, who had invited him to this exhibition at his art gallery. Thanos had no particular interest in art, but these events were always useful for social networking. You never knew who you might meet, he thought derisively, as his eyes raked over Tahlia Reynolds’s slender form.

He recognised her instantly. Hardly surprising when her face was plastered over the front of all the red-top tabloids, he thought sardonically. But the photos of her in the newspapers, even the artfully posed pictures in the glossy magazines, showing her in couture gowns and stunning jewellery, did not do justice to her luminescent beauty. His eyes swept over her close-fitting blue silk cocktail dress, which matched the sapphires at her throat and was cut low to reveal a tantalising glimpse of the upper curve of her breasts.

She was exquisite, he acknowledged grimly. He welcomed the wave of black hatred that surged through him, but to his disgust another, unbidden emotion stirred within him. Nothing had prepared him for the impact of seeing Tahlia in the flesh, and to his fury he felt an unmistakable tug of sexual interest.

An awkward silence hovered in the air after Crispin’s introduction, and as the gallery-owner cleared his throat Thanos acknowledged that he could not give in to his inclination to fasten his hands around Tahlia’s slender neck and squeeze the life from her body.

‘Miss Reynolds,’ he murmured smoothly, extending his hand to her. He noted that she hesitated before she responded, and her hand shook very slightly when she placed it in his. Her fingers were slim, and as pale as milk. It would take a fraction of his strength to crush them in his grasp. He tightened his grip rather more than was necessary, and when her eyes flew to his face he stared at her impassively.

The brief pressure on her fragile bones could not compare with the pain his sister endured every day, he thought savagely. Melina had been in hospital for six long months, and would have to undergo many more weeks of physiotherapy before she would walk unaided again. Thanos did not blame the driver of the car which had ploughed into Melina. The police had assured him that the man behind the wheel had stood no chance of avoiding the young woman who had run into the road without looking.

No, he held two other people responsible for the accident which had almost ended Melina’s life—and those same two people had callously broken her heart. Tahlia Reynolds was a predatory bitch who had been having an affair with Melina’s husband, James Hamilton. Melina had been distraught when she had discovered them together in a hotel bedroom, and she had fled outside onto an unlit country road, straight into the path of an oncoming car.

Thanos released Tahlia’s hand but continued to scrutinise her intently. According to the recent press reports she had been up to her old tricks with another married actor. Did this woman have any scruples? he wondered savagely. How dared she stand there staring at him with her startling bright blue eyes, her mouth curved into a hesitant smile?

Soon she would have little to smile about, he brooded. He had already dealt with his ex-brother-in-law. Immediately after Melina’s accident James had fled to L.A., but the actor had quickly discovered that no Hollywood director would work with him after Thanos had threatened to withdraw his financial backing of various film projects if James Hamilton was given so much as a walk-on part. James’s acting career was dead and buried, and Thanos was determined that it would never be resurrected. Now he wanted revenge on James’s mistress.

Tahlia’s hand was still tingling as if she had received an electric shock. Some indescribable force had certainly shot from her fingertips all the way up her arm when she had shaken Thanos Savakis’s hand, and now she felt strangely light-headed. The champagne must have gone to her head, she thought ruefully. The peculiar feeling that had swept over her when Thanos’s skin had briefly come into contact with hers was not an intense reaction to the sexiest man she had ever laid eyes on, she told herself firmly. And yet she could not deny that he unsettled her.

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr Savakis,’ she said politely. ‘Are you here in London on business, or…?’ She tailed away uncertainly, entranced by the sudden smile that lifted his features from handsome to breathtakingly gorgeous, and revealed a flash of white teeth which for some inexplicable reason made her think of the story of Red Riding Hood and the cunning wolf.

‘Business…and pleasure,’Thanos drawled, relieved that he was once more in control of his hormones. He trailed his eyes over Tahlia. She was exquisitely packaged: designer dress, shoes and handbag, not to mention an eye-watering collection of sapphires and diamonds that sparkled enticingly against her creamy skin. Her outfit must have cost a fortune, he thought cynically. Tahlia was clearly used to the finer things in life, and he was going to take enormous pleasure in putting an end to her pampered, self-indulgent lifestyle.

He had expected her to show some sort of reaction when he introduced himself, but there had been no flicker of response in Tahlia’s eyes at the name Savakis. Presumably she had been unaware of James Hamilton’s wife’s maiden name—no doubt she and James had not spared a thought for Melina during their secret assignations. Molten fury seared his insides. He wanted to vent his anger and denounce her as the heartless whore who had wrecked his sister’s life—let the members of London’s high society who were gathered in the gallery hear what a cheap little tart she was. But with a huge effort of will he resisted the urge. There would be time enough to tell her what he thought of her after he had brought her to her knees.

‘I see that Earl Fullerton has just arrived,’ Crispin Blythe murmured. ‘I’ll leave you two to have fun. I suggest you ask Tahlia to give you a tour of the gallery, Thanos. She has a special relationship with the artist, and is the best person—apart from Rufus himself, of course—to talk about his work.’

‘Oh, but…’ Tahlia stared after Crispin, unbearably embarrassed by the obvious way he had manoeuvred her and the sexy Greek together. Thanos’s mouth was still curved into a smile, but the faintly derisive gleam in his eyes unnerved her, and she could not shake off the idea that for some reason he had taken an instant dislike to her. ‘I mustn’t monopolise your company, Mr Savakis,’ she murmured, glancing rather desperately around the gallery, in the hope that she would spot someone she knew.

‘What exactly is the nature of your “special relationship” with Rufus Hartman?’ Thanos queried coolly. ‘Is he one of your lovers?’

For a moment Tahlia was too taken aback to reply. With a sinking feeling she realised that Thanos had probably seen the newspaper reports of her supposed affair with Damian Casson. Her temper flared. So much for Crispin’s assertion that no one believed the rubbish that was written in the down-market tabloids. ‘I really don’t see that it’s any of your business,’ she said coldly, ‘but as a matter of fact Rufus isn’t attracted to women,’ she added. She was not sure why she had lowered her voice, because Rufus was quite open about the fact that he was gay. ‘He is a good friend with an incredible talent.’