Carrying the Greek's Heir
‘Well, think about it now. You’ve been waiting on me all week, so why not let me wait on you for a change? I have a fridge stocked with liquor I haven’t touched. If you’re hungry, I can feed you chocolate or apricots.’ He rose to his feet and raised his eyebrows. ‘So why don’t I pour you a glass of champagne?’
‘Why? Are you celebrating something?’
He gave a low laugh. ‘Celebration isn’t mandatory. I thought all women liked champagne.’
‘Not me.’ She shook her head. ‘The bubbles make me sneeze. And I’m cycling home—I don’t want to run over some poor, unsuspecting pony who’s wandered out into the middle of the road. I think I’d prefer something soft.’
‘Of course you would.’ He slanted her an odd kind of smile. ‘Sit down and let me see what I can find.’
He went inside the self-contained villa which stood within the extensive hotel grounds and Ellie perched awkwardly on one of the cane chairs, praying nobody would see her, because she shouldn’t be sitting on a guest’s veranda as if she had every right to do so.
She glanced across the silent lawn, where a huge oak tree was casting an enormous shadow. The wild flowers which edged the grass swayed gently in the breeze and, in the background, lights blazed brightly from the hotel. The dining room was still lit with candles and she could see people lingering over coffee. In the kitchen, staff would be frantically washing up and longing to get home. Upstairs, couples would be removing complimentary chocolates from on top of the Egyptian linen pillows, before getting into bed. Or maybe they would be sampling the deep, twin baths for which The Hog was so famous.
She thought she saw something glinting from behind the oak tree and instinctively she shrank back into the shadows, but before she could work out exactly what it was—Alek had returned with a frosted glass of cola for her, and what looked like whisky, for him.
‘I guess I should have put them on a tray,’ he said.
She took a sip. ‘And worn an apron.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Perhaps I could borrow yours?’
The implication being that she remove her apron... Ellie put her glass down, glad that the darkness disguised her suddenly hot cheeks because the thought of removing anything was making her heart race. Suddenly, the moonlight and the roses and the glint in his eyes was making her feel way too vulnerable.
‘I can’t stay long,’ she said quickly.
‘Somehow I wasn’t expecting you to. How’s your cola?’
‘Delicious.’
He leant back in his chair. ‘So tell me why a young woman of twenty...?’ He raised his eyebrows.
‘I’m twenty-five,’ she supplied.
‘Twenty-five.’ He took a sip of whisky. ‘Ends up working in a place like this.’
‘It’s a great hotel.’
‘Quiet location.’
‘I like that. And it has a training scheme which is world famous.’
‘But what about...’ he paused ‘...nightlife? Clubs and boyfriends and parties? The kind of thing most twenty-five-year-olds enjoy.’
Ellie watched the bubbles fizzing around the ice cubes he’d put in her cola. Should she explain that she’d deliberately opted for a quiet life which contrasted with the chaos which had defined her childhood? Somewhere where she could concentrate on her work, because she didn’t want to end up like her mother, who thought a woman’s ambition should be to acquire a man who was a meal ticket. Ellie had quickly learnt how she didn’t want to live. She was never going to trawl the internet, or hang around nightclubs. She had never owned a thigh-skimming skirt or push-up bra. She was never going to date someone just because of what they had in their wallet.
‘Because I’m concentrating on my career,’ she said. ‘My ambition is to travel and I’m going to make that happen. One day I’m hoping to be a general manager—if not here, then in one of the group’s other hotels. Competition is pretty fierce, but there’s no harm in aiming high.’ She sipped her cola and looked at him. ‘So that’s me. What about you?’
Alek swirled the whisky around in his glass. Usually he would have changed the subject, because he didn’t like talking about himself. But she had a way of asking questions which made him want to answer and he still couldn’t work out why.
He shrugged. ‘I’m a self-made man.’
‘But you said—’
‘That my father owned an island? He did. But he didn’t leave his money to me.’ And if he had, Alek would have thrown it back in his face. He would sooner have embraced a deadly viper than taken a single drachma of the old man’s fortune. He felt his gut tighten. ‘Everything I own, I earned for myself.’
‘And was that...difficult?’
The softness of her voice was hypnotic. It felt like balm being smoothed over a wound which had never really healed. And wasn’t this what men had done since the beginning of time? Drunk a little too much whisky and then offloaded on some random woman they would never see again?
‘It was a liberation,’ he said truthfully. ‘To cut my ties with the past.’
She nodded, as if she understood. ‘And start over?’
‘Exactly that. To know that every decision I make is one I can live with.’
His cell phone chose precisely that moment to start ringing and automatically he reached into his pocket, glancing at the small screen.
Work, he mouthed as he took the call.
He launched into a long torrent of Greek, before breaking into English—so that Ellie couldn’t help but sit there and listen. Though if she was being honest, it was very interesting listening to a conversation, which seemed to involve some high-powered forthcoming deal with the Chinese. And then he said other stuff, too—which was even more interesting.
‘I am taking a holiday. You know I am. I just thought it wise to check with the New York office first.’ He tapped his finger impatiently against the arm of the chair. ‘Okay. I take your point. Okay.’
He cut the connection and saw her staring at him. ‘What is it?’ he demanded.
She shrugged. ‘It’s none of my business.’
‘No, I’m interested.’
She put her drink down. ‘Don’t you ever stop working?’
His irritated look gave way to a faint smile which seemed to tug reluctantly at the corners of his lips. ‘Ironically, that’s just what my assistant was saying. He said I couldn’t really nag other people to take holidays if I wasn’t prepared to do so myself. They’ve been pushing me towards this one for ages.’
‘So how come you’re taking business calls at this time of night?’
‘It was an important call.’
‘So important that it couldn’t have waited until the morning?’
‘Actually, yes,’ he said coolly, but Alek’s heart had begun beating very fast. He told himself he should be irritated with her for butting in where she wasn’t wanted, yet right then he saw it as nothing but a rather disarming honesty. Was this why people went on vacation—because it took you right out of your normal environment and shook you up? In his daily life, nobody like Ellie would have got near him for long enough to deliver a damning judgement on his inability to relax. He was always surrounded by people—people who kept the rest of the world at arm’s length.
But the protective nucleus of his business life suddenly seemed unimportant and it was as if everything was centred on the soft face in front of him. He wondered what her hair would look like if he shook it free from its ponytail and laid it over his pillow. How that soft flesh would feel beneath him as he parted her legs. He drained the last of his whisky and put the glass down, intending to walk across the veranda and take her into his arms.
But she chose that moment to push the heavy fringe away from her eyes and the jerky gesture suddenly brought him to his senses. He frowned, like someone wakening from a sleep. Had he really been planning to seduce her? He looked at the cheap shoes and unvarnished nails. At the heavy fringe, which looked as if she might trim it herself. Was he insane? She was much too sweet for someone like him.
‘It’s getting late,’ he said roughly, rising to his feet. ‘Where’s your bike?’
She blinked at him in surprise, as if the question wasn’t one she had been expecting. ‘In the bike shed.’
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘I’ll walk you there.’
He could see the faint tremble of her lips as she shook her head.
‘Honestly, there’s no need. I see myself home every night,’ she said. ‘And it’s probably best if I’m not seen with you.’
‘I am walking you back,’ he said stubbornly. ‘And I won’t take no for an answer.’
He could sense her disappointment as they walked over the moonlit grass and he told himself that he was doing the right thing. There were a million women who could be his for the taking—better steer clear of the sweet and sensible waitress.
They reached the hotel and she gave him an awkward smile. ‘I have to go and change and fetch my bag,’ she said. ‘So I’d better say goodnight. Thanks for the drink.’
Alek nodded. ‘Goodnight, Ellie,’ he said and leant towards her, intending to give her a quick kiss on either cheek, but somehow that didn’t happen.
Did she turn her head, or did he? Was that why their mouths met and melded, in a proper kiss? He saw her eyes widen. He felt the warmth of her breath. He could taste the sweetness of cola and it reminded him of a youth and an innocence which had never been his. It was purely reflex which made him pull her into his arms and deepen the kiss and her tiny gasp of pleasure was one he’d heard countless times before.
And that was all he needed. All his frustration and hunger broke free; his hands skimmed hungrily over her body as he moved her further into the shadows and pressed her up against a wall. He groaned as he felt the softness of her belly and it made him want to imprint his hardness against her. To show her just what he had and demonstrate how good it would feel if he were deep inside her. Circling his palm over one peaking nipple, he closed his eyes. Should he slip his hand beneath her uniform skirt and discover whether she was as wet as he suspected? Slide her panties down her legs and take her right here, where they stood?
The tiny moan she made in response to the increased pressure of his lips was almost enough for him to act out his erotic thoughts.
Almost, but not quite.
Reason seeped into his brain like the cold drip of a tap and he drew back, even though his body was screaming out its protest. Somehow he ignored the siren call of his senses, just as he ignored the silent plea in her eyes. Because didn’t he value his reputation too much to make out with some anonymous waitress?
It was several moments before he could trust himself to speak and he shook his head in faint disbelief. ‘That should never have happened.’
Ellie felt as if he’d thrown ice-cold water over her and she wondered why he had stopped. Surely he had felt it, too? That amazing chemistry. That sheer magic. Nobody had ever kissed her quite like that before and she wanted him to carry on doing it. And somehow her bold words tumbled out before she could stop them.
‘Why not?’
There was a pause. ‘Because you deserve more than I can ever offer. Because I’m the last kind of man you need. You’re much too sweet and I’m nothing but a big bad wolf.’
‘Surely I should be the judge of that?’
He gave a bitter smile. ‘Go home, Ellie. Get out of here before I change my mind.’
Something dark came over his face—something which shut her out completely. He said something abrupt, which sounded like ‘Goodbye,’ before turning his back on her and walking back over the starlit grass.
CHAPTER TWO
‘WAS THAT YOUR boyfriend I saw you with last night?’
The question came out of nowhere and Ellie had to force herself to concentrate on what the guest was saying, instead of the frustrated thoughts which were circling like crows in her mind. Because of the recent heat wave, the restaurant had been fully booked and she’d been rushed off her feet all day. The lobster salad and summer pudding had sold out, and there had been a run on the cocktail of the month—an innocuous-tasting strawberry punch with a definite kick to it.
But now there was only one person left, a wafer-thin blonde who was lingering over her third glass of wine. Not that Ellie was counting. Well, actually, she was. She just wanted the woman to hurry up so that she could finish her shift in peace. Her head was pounding and she was exhausted—probably because she hadn’t slept a wink last night. She’d just lain on her narrow bed, staring up at the ceiling—wide-eyed and restless and thinking about what had happened. Or rather, what hadn’t happened. Telling herself that it was insane to get herself worked up about one kiss with a man who shouldn’t really have been kissing her.
He was a billionaire Greek who was way off limits. She didn’t know him, he hadn’t even taken her on a date and yet... She licked her lips, which had suddenly grown very dry. Things had got pretty hot, pretty quickly, hadn’t they? She could still recall his hands cupping her breasts and making them ache. She remembered wriggling with frustration as he pushed her up against the wall—his rock-hard groin pressing flagrantly against her. For a few seconds she’d thought he was going to try and have sex with her right there, and hadn’t part of her wanted that? It might have been insanely wrong and completely out of character—but in the darkness of the summer night, she had wanted him more badly than she’d ever wanted anyone. She’d seen a side of herself she didn’t recognise and didn’t like very much. She bit her lip. A side like her mother?
The blonde was still looking at her with the expression of a hungry bird who had just noticed a worm wriggling up through the soil. ‘So he is your boyfriend?’ she prompted.
‘No,’ said Ellie quickly. ‘He’s not.’
‘But you were kissing him.’
Nervously, Ellie’s fingers slid along the frosted surface of the wine bottle before she recovered herself enough to shove it back in the ice bucket. She glanced around, terrified that another member of staff might have overheard, because although The Hog was famously laid-back and didn’t have rules just for the sake of it—there was one which had been drummed into her on her very first day... And that was: you didn’t get intimate with the guests.
Ever.
Awkwardly, she shrugged. ‘Was I?’ she questioned weakly.
The blonde’s glacial eyes were alight with curiosity. ‘You know you were,’ she said slyly. ‘I was having a cigarette behind that big tree and I spotted you. Then I saw him walk you back to the hotel—you weren’t exactly being discreet.’
Briefly, Ellie closed her eyes as suddenly it all made sense. So that was the brief flare of light she’d seen from behind the tree trunk and the sense that somebody was watching them. She should have done the sensible thing and left then. ‘Oh,’ she said.
‘Yes, oh. You do know who he is, don’t you?’
Ellie stiffened as a pair of lake-blue eyes swam into her memory and her heart missed a beat. Yes, the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. A man who made me believe all the fairy-tale stuff I never believed before. ‘Of course I do. He’s...he’s...’
‘One of the world’s richest men man who usually hangs out with supermodels and heiresses,’ said the blonde impatiently. ‘Which makes me wonder, what was he doing with you?’
Ellie drew back her shoulders. The woman’s line of questioning was battering her at a time when she was already feeling emotionally vulnerable, but surely she didn’t have to stand here and take these snide insinuations—guest or no guest. ‘I don’t really see how that’s relevant.’
‘Don’t you? But you liked him, didn’t you?’ The blonde smiled. ‘You liked him a lot.’
‘I don’t kiss men I don’t like,’ said Ellie defensively, aware of the irony of her remark, considering it was over a year since she’d kissed anyone.
The blonde sipped her wine. ‘You do realise he has a reputation? He’s known as a man of steel, with a heart to match. Actually, he’s a bit of a bastard where women are concerned. So what have you got to say to that...’ there was a pause as she leant forward to peer at Ellie’s name badge ‘...Ellie?’
Ellie’s instinct was to tell the woman that her thoughts about Alek Sarantos were strictly confidential, but the memory of his hands moving with such sweet precision over her body was still so vivid that it was hard not to blush. Suddenly it was easy to forget that at times he’d been a demanding and difficult workaholic of a guest, with an impatience he hadn’t bothered to hide.
Because now all she could think about was the way she’d responded so helplessly to him and if he hadn’t pulled away and done the decent thing, there was no saying what might have happened. Well, that wasn’t quite true. She had a very good idea what might have happened.
She chewed on her lip, remembering the chivalrous way he’d told her to go home and the way she’d practically begged him not to leave her. Why shouldn’t she defend him?
‘I think people may have him all wrong,’ she said. ‘He’s a bit of a pussycat, actually.’
‘A pussycat?’ The blonde nearly choked on her wine. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Very,’ said Ellie. ‘He’s actually very sweet—and very good company.’
‘I bet he was. He’d obviously been flirting with you all week.’
‘Not really,’ said Ellie, her cheeks growing pink again. What was it with all this blushing? ‘We’d just chatted and stuff over the week. It wasn’t until...’ Her voice trailed away.
‘Until?’
Ellie stared into the woman’s glacial eyes. It all seemed slightly unreal now. As if she’d imagined the whole thing. Like a particularly vivid dream, which started to fade the moment you woke up. ‘He asked me to join him for a drink because it was his last night here.’
‘And so you did?’
Ellie shrugged. ‘I don’t think there’s a woman alive who would have turned him down,’ she said truthfully. ‘He’s...well, he’s gorgeous.’
‘I’ll concur with that. And a brilliant kisser, I bet?’ suggested the blonde softly.
Ellie remembered the way his tongue had slipped inside her mouth and how deliciously intimate that had felt. How, for a few brief moments, she’d felt as if someone had sprinkled her with stardust. It had only been a kiss, but still... ‘The best,’ she said, her voice growing husky.
The blonde didn’t answer for a moment and when eventually she did there was an ugly note in her voice. ‘And what would you say if I told you he had a girlfriend? That she was waiting for him back in London, while he was busy making out with you?’
Ellie’s initial disbelief was followed by a stab of disappointment and the dawning realisation that she’d behaved like a fool. What did she think—that someone like Alek Sarantos was free and looking to start a relationship with someone like her? Had she imagined that he was going to come sprinting across the hotel lawn to sweep her off her feet—still in her waitress uniform—just like in that old film which always used to make her blub? Hadn’t part of her hoped he hadn’t meant it when he’d said goodbye—and that he might come back and find her?
A wave of recrimination washed over her. Of course he wasn’t coming back and of course he had a girlfriend. Someone beautiful and thin and rich, probably. The sort of woman who could run for a bus without wearing a bra. Did she really imagine that she—the much too curvy Ellie Brooks—would be any kind of competition for someone like that?
And suddenly she felt not just stupid, but hurt. She tried to imagine his girlfriend’s reaction if she’d seen them together. Didn’t he care about loyalty or trampling over other people’s feelings?
‘He never said anything to me about a girlfriend.’
‘Well, he wouldn’t, would he?’ said the blonde. ‘Not in the circumstances. It’s never a good move if a man mentions his lover while making out with someone else.’
‘But nothing happened!’
‘But you would have liked it to, wouldn’t you, Ellie? From where I was standing, it looked pretty passionate.’
Ellie felt sick. She’d been a few minutes away from providing a live sex show! She wanted to walk away. To start clearing the other tables and pretend this conversation had never happened. But what if the blonde went storming into the general manager’s office to tell her what she’d seen? There would be only one route they could take and that would be to fire her for unprofessional behaviour. And she couldn’t afford to lose her job and the career opportunity of a lifetime, could she? Not for one stupid kiss.
‘If I’d had any idea that he was involved with someone else, then I would never—’
‘Do you often make out with the guests?’
‘Never,’ croaked Ellie.
‘Just him, huh?’ The blonde raised her brow. ‘Did he say why he was keeping such a low profile?’
Ellie hesitated. She remembered the way he’d smiled at her—almost wistfully—when the little boy with the cut knee had flung his arms around her neck. She remembered how ridiculously flattered she’d felt when he insisted on that drink. She’d thought they’d had a special bond—when all the time he was just using her, as if she were one of the hotel’s special offers. Angrily, her mind flitted back to what he had told her. ‘He’s been working day and night on some big new deal with the Chinese which is all top secret. And he said his staff had been nagging him for ages to take a vacation.’
‘Really?’ The blonde smiled, before dabbing at her lips with a napkin. ‘Well, well. So he’s human, after all. Stop looking so scared, Ellie—I’m not going to tell your boss, but I will give you a bit of advice. I’d stay away from men like Alek Sarantos in future, if I were you. Men like that could eat someone like you for breakfast.’
* * *
Alek sensed that something was amiss from the minute he walked into the boardroom but, try as he might, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. The deal went well—his deals always went well—although the Chinese delegation haggled his asking price rather more than he had been anticipating. But he pronounced himself pleased when the final figure was agreed, even if he saw a couple of members of the delegation smirking behind their files. Not a bad day’s work, all told. He’d bought a company for peanuts, he’d turned it around—and had now sold it on for a more than healthy profit.
It wasn’t until they all were exiting the boardroom when the redhead who’d been interpreting for them sashayed in his direction and said, ‘Hello, pussycat,’ before giving a fake growl and miming a clawing action.
Alek looked at her. He’d had a thing with her last year and had even taken her to his friend Murat’s place in Umbria. But it seemed she hadn’t believed him when he’d told her that theirs was no more than a casual fling. When the relationship had fizzled out, she’d taken it badly, as sometimes happened. The recriminatory emails had stopped and so had the phone calls, but as he met the expression in her eyes he could tell that she was still angry.
‘And just what’s that supposed to mean?’ he questioned coolly.
She winked. ‘Read the papers, tiger,’ she murmured, before adding, ‘Scraping the barrel a bit, aren’t you?’
And that wasn’t all. As he left the building he noticed one of the receptionists biting her lip, as if she was trying to repress a smile, and when he got back to his office he rang straight through to his male assistant.
‘What’s going on, Vasos?’
‘With regard to...?’ his assistant enquired cautiously.
‘With regard to me!’
‘Plenty of stuff in the papers about the deal with the Chinese.’
‘Obviously,’ Alek said impatiently. ‘Anything else?’
His assistant’s hesitation was illuminating. Did he hear Vasos actually sigh?
‘I’ll bring it in,’ he said heavily.
Alek sat as motionless as a piece of rock as Vasos placed the article down on the desk in front of him so that he could scan the offending piece. It was an innocuous enough diary article, featuring a two-year-old library photo, which publications still delighted in using—probably because it made him look particularly forbidding.