Kate Walker - Bedded by the Greek Billionaire

It was the recognition of that that had had her on the run all afternoon, dodging any contact with him that might have forced her to face up to the truth sooner. The bitter memories of the past, the sense of apprehension about his reasons for being here, even the fact that she was engaged to be married—nothing could come between her and the fact that Angelos Rousakis was the most devastatingly sexy man she had ever encountered in her life.

‘We were different people.’

She flung the words at him, using the snappish tone as a defence, hoping to hide her inner confusion. He might show every sign of having prospered since she had last seen him, but it didn’t alter the fact that she had once cost him his employment, his only home. Honour demanded that she should acknowledge that but the words tangled up on her tongue as Angelos lifted a sardonically enquiring eyebrow.

‘Were we?’

‘Yes. Totally different.’

Suddenly Jessica had had more than enough of this mystery—more than enough of his unsettling presence with no explanation for it.

‘So perhaps you’ll explain just what you’re doing here. What is it you want?’

‘What do I want?’

Angelos made a pretence of actually considering the question, looking around him with a thoughtful, assessing expression on his stunning face.

‘Well, I wouldn’t mind a house like this for a start. I always thought it was amazing when I worked here—and that was before I’d ever seen inside.’

‘It’s not for sale!’

This time, tormented by unease, she’d spoken too quickly, snapped too hard. She’d given too much away and she knew by the way that those brilliant black eyes narrowed sharply that he’d caught every trace of the discomfort she was trying to hide from him. He’d caught it and, she was beginning to suspect, had a strong suspicion of just what was firing it.

‘Not to the likes of me, hmm?’ he questioned softly, the words coming low and deadly like a striking snake. ‘Is that it, Jessica? Is that what you mean? That the Manor House can only belong to some purebred Englishman with aristocratic blood in his veins? Not some former Athens street urchin who’s fit only to groom your thoroughbred mare, to clean the mud from her coat when you come back from a ride around the estate and then to polish the tack ready for your next ride?’

‘I never said…’ Jessica blustered, horrified that he should even believe her capable of any such thought. ‘I…’

But Angelos hadn’t finished with her.

‘Or was that disappointment in your tone?’

‘Disappointment?’

‘Did you think that I was going to say that I wanted you? That that was why I’d come back—because I couldn’t get you out of my mind? That from the moment I kissed you all those years ago, I have always wanted you, always dreamed of you, always determined to have you? And now that I’ve made my fortune, now that your stepfather can no longer come between us, I’ve come back to claim you, to take you as my bride?’

‘No! Never! No way!’

Her voice was high and shrill— too high and shrill, she read in his face—and with every note it rose higher, with every violent shake of her head in emphasis, she was betraying the way that he had got to her. The way that, just for a terrible, weak, unguarded moment, she had actually felt a small, shivering thrill at contemplating the possibility he had laid before her.

‘I can’t think of anything I’d want less!’

His swift smile caught her on the raw. It was cold, mirthless, icy—a flashing gesture of triumph, without a trace of warmth in it anywhere, and not the tiniest gleam of light in the dark depths in his eyes. Somehow she knew she’d fallen right into the trap that he’d set for her—a trap she hadn’t even noticed he’d been laying.

‘Don’t you think that would sound more valid if you’d pointed out that you’re engaged to be married?’

For a moment the cold question stole away any words from her mind. How had he…?

Of course—he’d spotted her ring. But the way he made her feel—the way he obviously intended to make her feel—was that he believed her fiancé should have been uppermost in her thoughts. Which he should, she acknowledged, a terrible sense of embarrassment and guilt running through her.

She should have refuted Angelos’s suggestion with a furious, I’m not interested in any man other than my fiancé! Chris’s name should have been the first on her lips.

And that, she felt, was the trap that Angelos had planned—had expected her to fall into. Just the thought made something icy-cold slither nastily down her spine.

‘So tell me, where is your fiancé today? I would have thought that he would want to be here to support you at this time.’

Jessica bridled at the note of condemnation in his voice. Once again she wished that Chris had been here to refute the other man’s obviously critical opinion of him, just as she had wished that Marty would see what she saw in her fiancé rather than always being suspicious of his motives.

‘He had urgent business that called him away. Otherwise he’d have been here like a shot. And he wouldn’t have left my side for a moment.’

‘To protect you from the unwanted attentions of former servants who don’t know their place?’ Angelos drawled cynically, every word riddled with disbelief. ‘Then it’s just as well that that’s not why I’m here.’

This, Jessica suspected, was her cue to ask him just why he was here, but it was a cue she had no intention of taking up. Quite frankly, by now she didn’t care what had brought him here today and she didn’t want to find out. All she wanted was for him to go, to take with him the desperate, uneasy, guilty, uncomfortable feelings he’d roused in her simply by walking back into her life, and leave her in peace.

And she hoped and prayed that she would never, ever see him again.

With an effort she switched back to the icy politeness she’d adopted in the first moments she’d seen him—was it really only a couple of hours ago?

‘Well, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Everyone’s gone home…’ She indicated the empty room with a wave of her hand, taking a step back and half turning, so that his path to the door was completely free, totally unobstructed. ‘And so should you.’

Once more those narrowed eyes seared over her face, then flicked away to look at the open door, before coming back to lock coldly with her uneasy blue gaze.

‘I think not,’ he said firmly, his tone making it plain that he was not prepared to tolerate any argument. ‘There’s no way I’m going anywhere.’

‘But…’

Jessica glanced swiftly round, looking for Peters, but the butler had disappeared. And she had to wonder whether the older man would be able to manage to eject the powerful Greek whose imposing shoulders spoke of an impressive strength. The way that Angelos’s powerful legs and feet were planted so firmly made her think of a commanding tree that would never be easily uprooted.

Her head felt as if it were spinning, but whether from panic or anger she had no way of knowing.

‘Mr Rousakis, I have to tell you to leave!’

‘Miss Marshall, you are not in a position to tell me to do anything,’ he tossed back, the bite of cold anger making her breath catch in her throat. ‘Not any more.’

‘I—’ Jessica began when she heard a soft step behind her.

‘Mr Rousakis…’ It was Simeon Hilton’s voice and when she spun round it was to find the lawyer standing close behind her. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived. I trust you had a comfortable journey.’

To Jessica’s total consternation, Simeon was holding out his hand towards the Greek, a smile on his face.