Trish Morey - The Greek Boss's Demand

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

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For Gavin, who always believed.

And for Jane, who helped make it possible.

Thanks, guys

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

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.

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.