Annie West – She Can't Say No to the Greek Tycoon: The Kouvaris Marriage / The Greek Tycoon's Innocent Mistress / The Greek's Convenient Mistress (страница 3)

But Maddie was still questioning.

Why should a drop-dead handsome, rotten rich Greek tycoon with a gorgeous fiancée take the trouble to ‘look up’ an ordinary working girl and her ordinary family? A stranger to male sexual interest, she wasn’t so green as to fail to recognise it when it came her way. She’d registered it on that first day back in Athens. She chewed worriedly on her full lower lip. Trouble was, it was mutual, and she was drawn to him when common sense dictated that she should be running a mile.

Turning as the narrow path debouched onto a wide grassy meadow, Dimitri waited for her, his heartbeats quickening. Glossy curls surrounded her flushed heart-shaped face, her sultry lips were parted; her lush body was clothed in faded jeans and a workmanlike shirt. She was as unlike the elegant designer-clad females who threw themselves at him on a tediously regular basis as it was possible to be.

Testosterone pumped through his body. Self-admittedly cynical about the female half of the population, who looked at him and saw nothing but spectacular wealth, this immediate and ravaging physical awareness had never happened to him before. And no way was he about to knock it. He wanted her and would have her—would fight to the death to claim her!

‘Why are you here? What do you want?’ She sounded breathless. She was breathless. Yet the pace he’d set hadn’t been in the least taxing. All part and parcel of the effect he had on her, she conceded uneasily, and quivered as he took her hand and raised it to his lips.

The warmth, the firmness of his mouth as it trailed over the backs of her fingers, took what was left of her breath away. And when he murmured, ‘You want the truth?’ it took an enormous effort of will to look him in the eyes.

‘What else?’ she said.

Meeting those spectacular, mesmeric golden eyes had been a big mistake, she registered, as her knees went weak and simultaneously her breasts peaked and thrust with greedy urgency against the thin cotton of her shirt.

As if he knew exactly what was happening to her, his long strong hands went to her waist, easing her against his body, making her burningly, bone-crunchingly aware of the hard extent of his arousal.

Feverishly torn between what her mind was telling her and what her body craved, it took some moments before she registered his, ‘I need to get back to Athens within the month. And when I go I will take you with me. As my wife.’ When it did, her mind took over with a vengeance.

Pulling away from him, she squawked, ‘Have you gone crazy? How can you want to marry me? It’s madness. You hardly know me!’ Then her eyes narrowed to scornful slits. ‘Is that the way you usually get into a girl’s knickers? Promise to marry her?’

Shaken by his sudden peal of laughter, she could only splutter as he folded his arms around her and vowed, ‘I knew I wanted you in my body and in my soul the first time I saw you. And if that is crazy, then I like being crazy. Tonight, at dinner, I will ask your father’s permission to court you. And then I will do everything in my power to persuade you to accept me.’

At her shaky accusation, ‘You are mad!’ he lowered his head and kissed her. And all the niggling questions as to why a guy like him, who could pick and choose between the world’s most beautiful women, should earmark her as his future bride disappeared for the next earth-shattering couple of hours.

CHAPTER ONE

HIS face like thunder, Dimitri Kouvaris strode down the first-storey corridor of his sumptuous villa on the outskirts of Athens, hands fisted at his sides, his wide shoulders as rigid as an enraged bull about to charge.

Eleni, the youngest member of his household staff, flattened herself against the wall at his approach, and only expelled her pent-up breath as he shot down the sweeping staircase two treads at a time.

The soles of his handmade shoes ringing against the marble slabs, he crossed the wide hallway and after a cursory rap entered his aunt’s quarters.

‘Did you know about this?’ he demanded on a terse bite, lobbing over the piece of paper crumpled into his fist. And he watched, the gold of his eyes dark with inner fury, as the thin pale fingers of his father’s elder spinster sister smoothed the creases out.

The few words burned like acid into his brain.

Our marriage is over. My solicitor will be in touch regarding our divorce.

Three months and she said it was over! No explanation. Nothing but a note left on the pillow of their opulent marriage bed. How dared she?

‘She dishonours the Kouvaris name!’ he bit out, and the silvery head rose from her prinked-lipped perusal. The sharp black eyes were disdainful as his seventy-year-old aunt dropped the note on the small table at her side and fastidiously wiped her fingers on a silk handkerchief.

‘You dishonoured our family name when you made her your bride,’ Alexandra Kouvaris pronounced, with a profound lack of compassion. ‘A common gold-digger with her eye obviously on a handsome divorce settlement. A high price to pay for an abortive attempt to get an heir, nephew.’ She settled back in her chair with a rustle of black silk and reached for the book she’d been reading, dismissing him. ‘No, I didn’t know she’d gone. I am not in her confidence and I have not pined to be in that position. I suggest you check the contents of your safe to see how much of the jewellery she persuaded you to lavish on her she’s taken with her.’

His mouth flat with distaste, Dimitri swung on his heels and left. He couldn’t verbally flay his aunt for voicing what everyone would be thinking—although he’d had to bite his tongue to stop himself from doing just that. In the mood he was in he’d lash out at anyone who dared to breathe in his presence, he conceded savagely. In scant seconds he was back in the bedroom he’d shared with his bride, dragging open hanging cupboards and drawers, eventually standing, brows clenched, staring out of one of the tall windows that gave a partial view of the distant Acropolis.

She seemed to have left in just the clothes she was wearing, her passport and handbag her only luggage. Not one item of designer clothing or jewellery was missing. Was she, as his aunt had stated, going for the much larger prize? Aiming to reach a divorce settlement of half of his vast wealth, making him a laughing stock?

His strong teeth ground together. Over his dead body! Prick a Greek male’s pride and the wrath of the gods would descend in dire retribution!

Hadn’t he given her everything a woman could possibly want? An enviably beautiful home, unlimited funds, servants to cater to her every whim, great sex. His tight features turned dark with temper as too-vivid memories of the way his pre-marriage largely ignored lunch-breaks had turned into sheer paradise between the sheets with his wife, because the hours before nighttime had always seemed impossible to get through without availing himself of the delights of her luscious, responsive body.

Had her generous response been nothing but an act? His lovemaking something to be endured to keep him sweet and unsuspecting until she sneaked away and petitioned for divorce?

No one did that to Dimitri Kouvaris! No one!

Turning in driven haste, he used his mobile to instruct his senior PA to cancel all meetings for the next three days. He stuffed a few necessities into an overnight bag with his free hand. Then, ending the call, he keyed in the number of the airport and finally, on receiving the information he needed, contacted the pilot of his private jet.

Tears welled in Joan Ryan’s tired eyes as she turned to slide the kettle onto the hotplate of the ancient Aga. That dratted inner shaking had started up again, and over the last twenty-four hours she had drunk enough tea to float a battleship.

Nevertheless, she had to be sympathetic and helpful, put her other problems aside, because no sooner had Joe, her husband—who should by rights be resting, according to doctor’s orders, following his heart scare, not getting himself stressed out—together with their three sons walked out of the door than her son-in-law had walked in. And dropped another whopping bombshell.

Maddie had walked out on their marriage.

Maddie wanted a divorce.

It couldn’t be happening, she thought on a spurt of uncomprehending agitation. She couldn’t for the life of her understand how that marriage had gone so wrong, so quickly. Her daughter had looked radiant with happiness when she’d made her wedding vows in the small parish church just three months ago. She and Joe had been so happy too. Just fancy—their tomboy daughter, who’d never even had a proper boyfriend, marrying such a handsome, wealthy, generous dream of a man. Their adored Maddie stepping ecstatically into an assured future.

And now this!

Dimitri looked strained—as any man would after such a shock, not to mention a headlong dash from Greece and driving up here in a hired car. So a nice cup of tea …

She turned, carried the pot to the big old table, and noted that he had sat himself in Joe’s chair, his finely made yet strong hands clenched on the pitted pine tabletop.