CHARLOTTE LAMB - Deadly Rivals

Cover Page

Excerpt “Why did you get engaged to him when you didn’t love him?” “I’m fond of Christos—it seemed a good idea.” Max laughed harshly. “A good idea? You mean your father pushed you into it, and Christos’s father pushed him—they’re using both of you, ruthlessly. Your marriage is the cement in the unholy alliance between my half brother and your father. They don’t trust each other, with good reason, so they’ve each offered up a child, as a hostage for good behavior.” He looked into her eyes. “That’s the truth, isn’t it, Olivia?”

Dear Reader Dear Reader, The Seven Deadly Sins are those sins which most of us are in danger of committing every day, very ordinary failings, very human weaknesses, but which can cause pain both to ourselves and others. Over the ages, they have been defined as: Anger, Covetousness, Envy, Greed, Lust, Pride and Sloth. In this book, I deal with the sin of Covetousness. To covet is to begrudge someone else’s possessions, to hanker after things owned by someone else. At some time or another, don’t we all wish we were millionaires or had a wardrobe full of designer clothes? Though daydreams are harmless, it is very different when a plot is hatched to take something valuable away from its rightful owner. Charlotte Lamb This is the second story in Charlotte Lamb’s gripping new series. Watch every month for five more romances—all complete stories in themselves—where this exceptionally talented writer proves that love can conquer the deadliest of sins! Coming next month: HAUNTED DREAMS (Harlequin Presents #1828)…the sin of Envy. Have you ever felt that the grass was greener on the other side?

Title Page Deadly Rivals Charlotte Lamb www.millsandboon.co.uk

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Copyright

“I’m fond of Christos—it seemed a good idea.”

Max laughed harshly. “A good idea? You mean your father pushed you into it, and Christos’s father pushed him—they’re using both of you, ruthlessly. Your marriage is the cement in the unholy alliance between my half brother and your father. They don’t trust each other, with good reason, so they’ve each offered up a child, as a hostage for good behavior.” He looked into her eyes.

“That’s the truth, isn’t it, Olivia?”

Dear Reader,

The Seven Deadly Sins are those sins which most of us are in danger of committing every day, very ordinary failings, very human weaknesses, but which can cause pain both to ourselves and others. Over the ages, they have been defined as: Anger, Covetousness, Envy, Greed, Lust, Pride and Sloth.

In this book, I deal with the sin of Covetousness. To covet is to begrudge someone else’s possessions, to hanker after things owned by someone else. At some time or another, don’t we all wish we were millionaires or had a wardrobe full of designer clothes? Though daydreams are harmless, it is very different when a plot is hatched to take something valuable away from its rightful owner.

Charlotte Lamb

This is the second story in Charlotte Lamb’s gripping new series. Watch every month for five more romances—all complete stories in themselves—where this exceptionally talented writer proves that love can conquer the deadliest of sins!

Coming next month: HAUNTED DREAMS (Harlequin Presents #1828)…the sin of Envy. Have you ever felt that the grass was greener on the other side?

www.millsandboon.co.uk

THE little beach below her father’s villa was private and lay at the end of a long, narrow, winding, rocky road which could only be reached through the villa gardens. In the early mornings, the beach was always empty, a stretch of white sand and rocks, with a thin belt of pine trees fringing it, and Olivia went down each day before breakfast to swim in the warm blue sea, feeling like Eve in the Garden of Eden, but without the serpent or Adam. She never had company. Her father didn’t get up until much later, and any guests he had seemed to sleep late too.

Olivia loved the feel of the cool morning air on her skin as she wandered down the stony path, in her ropesoled sandals and sleek-fitting black swimsuit, hearing the murmur of the sea and the cry of gulls.

This morning a wave of such happiness broke over her that as she reached the beach she began cartwheeling over the sand, her smooth-skinned body supple in flowing movement.

A moment later she heard a harsh Greek voice shouting somewhere nearby, then the sound of running feet on the sand. Olivia was about to stand up when another body hit her violently.

The breath knocked out of her, she collapsed on the sand on her back with a man on top of her. A totally naked man.

Olivia screamed.

A hand hit her mouth, pressed down to silence her, muffling her cries. Olivia struggled against the bare male flesh, panic inside her.

Her golden-brown eyes huge, she threw a scared look up at him. He was big and powerful—that was her first impression. Wide, tanned shoulders, a muscled chest, flat stomach: it was an athlete’s body. His colouring was Greek to match that deep voice: he had black hair, dusted with powdery sand at the moment, an olive-skinned face, glittering black eyes.

He stared back, those eyes narrowing, his winged black brows arching in sardonic comment.

‘Blonde hair,’ he said in English. ‘A peaches-andcream complexion…you have to be Faulton’s daughter!’

Then his strong-featured face tightened in a grimace. ‘Sorry if I startled you. Now don’t scream again, there is no need to be alarmed. I’m not going to hurt you.’ He took his hand away from her mouth and rolled off her at the same time, getting to his feet.

Olivia scrambled up too, sick with relief, shaking slightly, and beginning to get angry because she had been so frightened.

‘Why did you do that?’ she almost shouted at him.

He had his back to her. For all her anger, she couldn’t help noticing how smooth and golden that back was: long, muscled, with a deep indentation running down the centre. He was winding a big white towel around his waist. Against the whiteness his skin was an even deeper tan, small dark hairs roughening his forearms and calves.

She looked away, swallowing on a sudden physical awareness, a pulse beginning to beat in her throat as she remembered that body lying on top of her, the forced intimacy of the brief contact. He turned and looked at her coolly. ‘You were about to crash into those rocks.’

Crossly she snapped, ‘Nothing of the kind! I knew they were there! I was just going to change course to avoid them.’

His brows rose again. ‘It didn’t look to me as if you were.’

‘Well, I was! I know every inch of this beach. If you hadn’t interfered I would have veered to the right and gone on down into the sea.’

Just behind him she saw a pile of clothes on the rocks: crumpled, well-washed jeans, a cheap cotton T-shirt.

She looked back at him, frowning. ‘Who are you? What are you doing on this beach anyway? It’s private. Have you got permission to be here?’

‘I’m staying at your father’s villa. I arrived late last night, after you had gone to bed. Your father told me you were staying here too.’