Kidnapped by the Greek Billionaire (3 page)

Kizzy stared at him blankly, unable to work out what was going on inside their huge, floating bubble of glass. “Leave? Now?”

“In the next thirty minutes.”

“And go where exactly?”

“Somewhere I can keep a close eye on you until I sort out some legal guarantees between us. I agree to provide you with work and accommodation in return for your cooperation with regard to the Antonides family. The ‘future’ part is up to you, but you’ll have the tools to make it happen. I want you to come to Greece with me. The island of Rhodes, to be precise.”

“But I’ve nothing with me, no spare clothes.”

“Don’t worry.” A slow smile formed as his dark eyes trailed her body from head to toe. “You won’t be needing many clothes.”

Chapter Two

Kizzy blinked away the fierce sunshine of Rhodes and, in spite of her previous protestations, flipped down the designer sunglasses that Andreas had insisted on buying her…along with a wardrobe’s worth of the finest silk and linen daywear money could buy.

“So, still want your woolen suit back? And those stockings?” Andreas flicked Kizzy a condescending smile, then urged her to speed up as he marched her through one of the ancient stone gates in the city ramparts toward the harbor.

“That wouldn’t be very sensible under the circumstances. They
did
have a run in them,” Kizzy replied breathlessly. His strides were a good deal longer than hers.

She tossed her head belligerently, glad of the sunglasses in case her eyes gave away just how intimidated and awestruck she was feeling.

It had cut her to the core having to accept an entirely new and outrageously expensive set of clothes. But Andreas had insisted. He’d said it was a non-negotiable part of the deal.

She had, however, managed to salvage a shred of pride by refusing to try on anything that could not be justified as necessary for everyday practical purposes, leaving her with a few casual pieces and a couple of smarter combinations that would do for business, whatever that would amount to. And just two pairs of shoes. Flat ones.

“I didn’t ask for all this stuff,” she pointed out. “If you’d given me time to go home and pack, I could have saved you a fortune.”

“And let you loose on my hard-earned business interests dressed like some backwater funeral director? That suit was…” He cocked his head to one side and surveyed her slowly from head to toe. “Let’s just say you’re better off being guided on such matters.”

Kizzy stopped dead in her tracks. Her cheeks sizzled with indignation. This man was so insulting. “I’ve never had money to burn, as it happens,” she replied, with undisguised contempt.

“Well I
do
, and most women would lap it up. So what’s your problem?”

“Problem?” Kizzy let out a hollow laugh. “You’ve turned my whole world on its head, flown me thousands of miles, insulted my dress sense, and my integrity, and I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be doing apart from keeping my mouth shut of course.” She frowned. “I’m curious, Mr. Lazarides. Just what sort of job am I here to do?”

Andreas tightened his lips thoughtfully and took a moment to savor the amethyst fire that was dancing in her eyes. Kizzy Dean was clearly not going to be the fawning, simpering variety of female he was accustomed to, employee or otherwise. Her manner was irritating, in that it was beginning to take up more of his valuable time than he’d like, but there was something else happening. A dart of amusement hit him. This was like being attacked by an angry dormouse—painless enough, but impossible to ignore.

“I’ve not decided yet. I intend to assess your skills over the next few days, to see what can be done with you.” He allowed his eyes to drop to her new silk camisole as it fluttered against her breasts in the breeze, deliberately provoking more annoyance by studying her at length. “But we won’t go rushing you into
haute couture
or customer relations.”

“You promised me a job,” Kizzy pointed out, only belatedly realizing that he had her at a complete disadvantage. She didn’t speak a word of Greek, had no money and nowhere to go.

She then remembered with horror that he hadn’t returned her passport at the airport, so she had no form of identification either. She felt the blood drain from her face as her hand strayed to a nonexistent inside pocket. He’d taken her cell phone to call his driver in London—he still had that too. There was nothing to stop him from just dumping her in the middle of the ocean and leaving her to drown. No one was going to raise the alarm in England now, were they?

“And a job you shall have, plus
accommodation. But if you can’t behave yourself and are determined to be difficult, the chances are you will get a mediocre, undemanding job.” Lazarides was clearly enjoying her discomfort. His chin lifted, baiting her. “If you are a
good
girl, however…”

Kizzy’s dry mouth opened to deliver a blistering response, but before she could reply her attention was drawn down to the left hand side of her body. The hem of her expensive new cream jacket appeared to be trapped. The fabric was suddenly dragging at her body, tugging her insistently backward and down to…a child. Large avocado stone eyes stared up, from a sallow, dirty face that had cheekbones just a little too prominent for a boy of what Kizzy estimated to be nine or ten years old. The boy’s face broke into a nervous smile as he began to pump away at a battered accordion.

“
Parakalo
?” he ventured, holding out a dirty, trembling hand.

“What’s he saying?” Kizzy asked as she instinctively went to brush the matted hair out of his eyes.

“What do you think he’s saying? He’s begging for money.” Andreas thrust out his own hand to block her palm from making contact with the little boy. “And begging is frowned upon—especially here, where he’s likely to offend and annoy most of the super-yacht owners he encounters. He’s also infested with lice.”

Kizzy felt an icy wave course through her body in spite of the searing heat. It was only a matter of hours ago that she had been a disheveled, pitiful mess at the mercy of this coldhearted Greek. Her heart went out to the waif.

“But look at the state of him. Couldn’t we give him something?”

“Absolutely not.”

Andreas eased himself between Kizzy and the puny wretch, and bent to issue a few harsh phrases in Greek. The child’s eyes opened wide to show their blemished whites and he quickly snatched up an old ice cream tub containing a few coins from the dusty promenade. Kizzy stared open-mouthed as the boy ran away as fast as he could in dirty, worn, adult-sized trainers that swamped his tiny feet. They flapped noisily around his ankles and Kizzy felt her insides twist with sickening fury.

She turned on Andreas so abruptly that a thick skein of chestnut hair escaped the cheap clip that still secured her chignon. She brushed it angrily away. “Some food wouldn’t have hurt the boy, would it?”

“You have no understanding of the way things are here.” Andreas gestured dismissively with a sweep of his arm and, turning his back on her, strode toward the harbor’s edge. Briskly, he began to descend the steps that led down to the water before asserting himself further. “I do. So accept my judgment on this matter.”

“Do as I’m told, in other words?”

Kizzy swallowed angry tears as she stared furiously down into that impassive expression. His indifferent shrug chilled her to the bone. His eyes were harsh as volcanic rock.

Andreas indicated that she should step aboard the speedboat that was waiting for them. His lips thinned to an angry slash as he noted her continuing mutiny. “We have a schedule,” he pointed out, and stepped on board, roughly offering her a hand as the vessel bobbed about in the creamy swell.

“I wish I could afford to walk away from all this,” Kizzy hissed, standing motionless on the stone steps. She continued to stare into the abyss of his exacting gaze. “Away from you.”

“Well, I do believe you can’t.”

He pulled her firmly downward by the wrist, ensuring that she fell into the unyielding cradle of his chest and upper arms.

“And I would appreciate it if you could start behaving in a respectable manner in public,” Andreas Lazarides whispered harshly against her ear. “I wouldn’t want your insubordination to rub off on the rest of my staff.”

“Oh for—”

Kizzy stifled a novel urge to swear at him, and hauled herself free. She reminded herself that a huge loan repayment was due in under a week’s time and she still had no means of meeting it.

“I hope you don’t think I’m impressed by this dingy!”

Andreas flicked her a bleak look from beneath his dark brows. “I’m not in the habit of trying to impress dishonest barmaids. Especially unemployed ones.”

Vitriol coursed through her veins in reaction to this barbed remark. She couldn’t stop herself from blurting out the most insulting thing she could manage at short notice. “So you’ve got a boat as well as your own private plane.” She sniffed ostentatiously. “It’s not the biggest in the harbor though, is it? I would have expected it to match the size of your ego…and heartlessness.”

Andreas sighed. “You flew here in a jet actually, and this, I grant you, is little better than a dingy. But it
is
manned.”

“Oh, of course it is,” she replied tartly. “Heaven forbid you’d have to get your own impeccable hands dirty.”

Kizzy watched as the Greek businessman raised both those hands to his head and ruffled them exasperatedly through his hair. “And I’d like to know exactly where we’re going, if that’s not too much to ask.”

Unexpectedly, and to her intense annoyance, Andreas Lazarides began to laugh. Only briefly, but it was still a laugh.

“Come on, Kizzy,” he said, with the secret joke still working its magic on his lips. “Stop messing around and sit down. Make yourself comfortable. We have a significant voyage ahead of us to Lindos.”

His smile faded to an impatient frown when she still refused to budge.

“Look, I’ve told you where we’re going. Now
sit
down
, will you?”

Kizzy slumped indecorously onto one of the plush seats of the outboard and snapped her head away from his direct line of vision.

She didn’t want to look at the despicable man, let alone register the sizzle of awareness as she watched the smooth, sexy curve of his desirable mouth.

The boat drew out slowly and surged forward in the direction of the open sea. Ahead, two enormous bronze deer glinted on massive columns either side of the harbor. Kizzy gripped her seat tightly. Fully aware of the choppier water that awaited them farther out, she just prayed that the small boat was up to fending off the blue ferocity of the Aegean.

“You okay?” Andreas shouted over the roar of the engine and the relentless pounding of water against the vessel’s bow.

As if he cared,
Kizzy thought, and grimaced in response. She took a deep breath. Her stomach lurched uncomfortably a couple of times as the launch rode the swell of a passing container ship. She closed her eyes against the brilliant mirage of white, blue and green: a confection of water, bleach-white hulls, and sky that had scored an image on the back of her eyes. She felt her body rise and fall with the engine thrusts, shuddering with the impact of persistent waves.

She was just beginning to wonder how much longer she could maintain her composure when, as suddenly as their journey had begun, the muffled unseen world around her began to change.

Kizzy felt the wind begin to slacken its assault on her hair; the vibration of pulsing cylinders began to slow. They were stopping for some reason before they had reached the open sea.

They were going to sink!

Her eyes flashed open in alarm and were confronted by a gilded nameplate fixed to the hull of a tall white vessel before them. The name was written in Greek, and although she had no understanding of the words, Kizzy knew instantly what it meant—she had just made a complete idiot of herself. Again.

“I do hope you find my everyday Rhodian yacht,
Elektron
, more to your tastes than a humble
dingy
, Miss Dean,” Andreas announced, his smile wry.

Kizzy chose to ignore both his remark and the amusement that danced in his dark eyes. As she rose unsteadily from her seat, the young man who had been controlling the outboard stood up quickly to steady her. The young man smiled warmly, murmuring a few honeyed-sounding words into her ear as he squeezed her upper arm.

“Thank you,” Kizzy said.

His hand fell away to deal with the array of ropes and securing mechanisms that were suddenly emerging.

She glanced briefly at Andreas, who was scowling at her again. “I didn’t understand a single word of what he said, I’m afraid.”

Andreas’s tone was savage. “He said
,
‘Take it easy, beautiful, and I’ll see you some time soon.’”

Her cheeks suddenly flushed and she looked away.

Taking Kizzy by the elbow, Andreas guided her briskly out of the speedboat and onto a low, wide platform below a curved flight of white steps. “I will make sure that he is disciplined for his impertinence,” he muttered. “But I rather think you brought that lax behavior upon yourself.”

Was there no end to this man’s condescension?

“I beg your pardon?”

Andreas sighed and gave her a light push between the shoulder blades to encourage her on deck.

“Stephanos obviously assumed from your negative behavior that you weren’t a personal guest of mine. He would never have dared to proposition you otherwise. He must have deduced, quite rightly, that you were a new member of the Lazarides team. Only one with an attitude. And that you were available.”

Kizzy furiously bit back her indignation as she began to climb the steps.

“Well, aren’t I?” she whispered, for fear of being heard by Stephanos, who was now unloading boxes and shouting instructions to a crew decked out in crisp white shirts. “Or is there going to be a special Grecian clause built into my contract of employment that insists I’m a modern-day vestal virgin?”