Kandy Shepherd - Greek Tycoon's Mistletoe Proposal

The woman turned. Her eyes widened and he saw they were an extraordinary shade of blue. Then she screamed—an ear-splitting scream even more excruciating to his ears than her singing. ‘Get out!’ she shrieked.

Lukas glared at her. ‘You can get out of my bathtub first.’

She waved the bath brush at him in what was obviously intended to be a menacing manner. ‘Not until you get out of here.’

The movement of wielding the brush brought her breasts dangerously close to being bared. With a quick downward glance and a little gasp, she seemed to realise it and stilled. Then slid deeper down into the water, all bravado wilting like the foam bubbles on her shoulders.

‘I...I guess you’re Mr Christophedes. Even though I was told you weren’t going to be in London until after Christmas.’

‘And you are?’

The flush deepened on her cheeks. ‘Ashleigh Murphy. Your daily maid. From Maids in Chelsea.’

‘So, Ashleigh Murphy, what are you doing in my bathtub?’

She raised the brush again. ‘I’m...uh...scrubbing it.’

Her audacity almost made him smile. Almost. He realised she was young, mid-twenties at most. And quite lovely. But she had taken an unheard of liberty for a maid.

‘I think not,’ he said. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, crossed his arms in front of his chest. ‘Try again.’

‘This is such a luxurious bathroom. As I cleaned it, I wished I could try out the tub—it’s magnificent, isn’t it?’ The hand that wasn’t holding the bath brush reverently stroked the side of the tub without, Lukas thought, her realising she was doing it. ‘The slum of a hotel where I’ve been staying has the world’s most disgusting shared bathroom. I had to disinfect it before I could even think about dipping a toe in the tub. And then the water was just a lukewarm trickle...’ Her voice died away. She swallowed hard. She didn’t meet his eyes but seemed to concentrate on the work-of-art tap.

‘So the bathroom is no better in the place you’re staying now?’

She crinkled up her nose in a look that expressed guilt better than any words could. ‘Actually it is. Because, well, I’m staying here. In...in your house.’

‘You what?’ The words exploded from him and she cringed back into the water.

‘You’re getting a live-in maid at no extra cost?’ she offered, in an obvious effort to placate him.

‘Not good enough, Ashleigh Murphy,’ he thundered.

She crossed her arms over her chest and sat up higher in the bathtub. The water fell away to reveal more of her slim, pale body. Lukas knew he should avert his eyes but it wasn’t easy. In his thirty-four years, he had never encountered such a situation. Even though he’d grown up in a multi-servant household and kept a full-time staff in his Athens mansion.

‘I had nowhere else to stay. My time ran out at the hotel; I was planning to couch surf with a friend but it didn’t work out. London at this time of year is so expensive I couldn’t find anywhere I could afford. I’d been hired as your daily maid so I—’

‘Took advantage and moved in.’

‘Took advantage? I suppose that’s how it might look. But I was desperate. It was either bunk down in one of your guest rooms or...or go home.’ Her voice trailed away.

‘And home is?’

‘Australia.’

He’d detected an accent but it wasn’t strong and he hadn’t been able to place it. Lukas frowned. ‘Surely Australia is a good place to call home, especially at this time of year when it’s summer there.’

Her eyes cast downward. ‘Not...not when I ran away from my wedding. And if I go home again the family will think I’ve come back to...to marry a man I realised I don’t love.’

She was a runaway bride? Lukas wasn’t sure what to say about something so messy and totally out of his experience. But it was hardly an excuse to trespass. He cleared his throat. ‘You’ll be lucky if I don’t call the police.’

Her eyes widened in alarm. ‘Please. Don’t do that. I assure you I haven’t stolen anything. I’ve been doing extra cleaning in lieu of rent. And...and please don’t tell Clio Caldwell at the agency,’ she said. ‘She knows nothing about me staying here. She’s been so good to me and I don’t want to let her down. And...and...well, she’s having a personal crisis right now and doesn’t need any extra worries.’

The fact that the intruder in his bathtub seemed more concerned at offending her boss than saving her own skin made Lukas soften towards her. Perhaps she was just young and silly, and desperate rather than dishonest.

‘Then I suggest you pack your bags—’

‘I only have a backpack,’ she interrupted.

‘Pack your backpack and get out of my house,’ he said.

She caught her lower lip with her teeth. Lukas could not help noticing the lush fullness of her mouth, her perfect teeth. ‘Now?’ she said, her voice quivering a little on the word.

He tapped his foot on the floor. ‘Now.’

‘But...’ Her voice trailed away and she hugged her arms closer to her chest.

Some dark part of him wanted to make her get out of the bath and watch as she fumbled for a towel. See for himself if her body was as slender and shapely as it appeared through the protective coating of bubbles. But he did not give in to base impulses. Not after having grown up with the consequences of his father’s lack of self-control and indulgence in whatever appetites overcame him. Not when he’d been put at risk himself from the unbridled decadence of his family’s lifestyle.

Lukas took a step towards the heated towel rail. Picked up a thick, pale grey towel and tossed it towards her. She went to catch it, her movement revealing the curve of the top of her breasts. Then, rather than risk further exposure, she stilled and let the towel slide to the marble tiles next to the tub. For a long moment she looked at him, her eyes wide, her mouth trembling. Lukas recognised the second a shadow of fear darkened her eyes as she realised the vulnerability of her position.

He stepped back to put a greater distance between them. He wanted her out of his house. But he would never want a woman to cringe from him in fear. Not that Ashleigh Murphy seemed to be the cringing type.

‘Get yourself dressed and see me in my study on your way out,’ he said curtly, turning on his heel. The sooner this opportunistic backpacker was out of his house the better.

* * *

Ashleigh towelled herself dry with trembling hands. Her encounter with Lukas Christophedes had left her shaking. Not just because she’d been caught trespassing by the owner of this multi-million-pound house but because of him. For that split second before she’d screamed, her senses had registered that the dark stranger in the bathroom was gorgeous.

As an Aussie girl from a country town, she had had no experience of Greek billionaires. If anything, she would assume they would be old, grey-haired and possibly paunchy—and there were no personal photos on display anywhere in this house to indicate Mr Christophedes was anything different.

The reality was that thirty-something Lukas Christophedes looked as if he’d stepped off the pages of an upmarket men’s magazine—tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired with a lean, handsome face. But his dark eyes had smouldered with fury, his mouth set tight when he’d discovered her in his bathtub. Gorgeous had suddenly seemed grim.

Thank heaven she didn’t encounter him as she made her way to the bedroom she’d purloined, wrapped only in the towel he had tossed at her. Of course she’d been completely in the wrong to have abused her position of trust with Maids in Chelsea to squat at a client’s house. She’d been desperate but, in hindsight, she realised she must have been crazy to do such a thing.