Kidnapped by the Greek Billionaire (6 page)

“Don’t play games with me, Mr. Lazarides,” Kizzy countered sharply. “You know damn well I had little choice in the matter, and it was
you
who insisted on bringing me here to ‘keep an eye’ on me until your ridiculous legal document is sorted out. I still can’t believe you’d think me capable of deliberately hurting Mr. and Mrs. Antonides. I never would. They mean too much to me.”

“You’ll also recall how I said I couldn’t take a risk on that. Besides, you do stand to gain from this arrangement. I’m guaranteeing you a good job in some area of my business. If you’d stayed in Portsmouth, Timi’s Taverna would have gone under way before now and you’d be in a far worse position.”

“I could have made it work if you’d given me a chance.”

“No, you couldn’t. It was on the point of being taken into administration even before the Antonideses sold. The debts were astronomical.”

Kizzy bit down on the inside of her bottom lip with fury. There was a flaw in his argument somewhere. What wasn’t he telling her?

“So you’re a pretty successful businessman then?” she ventured.

“You could say that,” he replied with a soft smile.

“Made pots of money?”

Andreas laughed at her line of questioning. “Yes.”

“So why on earth would you want to buy a wreck of a restaurant in a rough part of Portsmouth and, presumably, make a loss on the deal? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Things aren’t always as simple as they seem.”

“Discovered oil under the foundations, have you?” she queried. “Or a seam of pure gold?”

He studied her for a moment, his chin propped up by his fingertips. “You have a vivid imagination.”

“And
you
haven’t answered my questions.”

“I’m not going to. I answer to no one for my actions.”

Kizzy responded with a defiant jerk of her chin.

“Now,” he continued in a gentler tone and fished her cell phone out of his trouser pocket. “There must be someone you need to call.”

“No.” Kizzy pressed her lips together as if the words had stung. “No one.”

“No one?

“Well, that’s not strictly true. I should ring the rest of the team at Timi’s. I know they’re all casual staff but they’re great people and I’d hate them to think that I’d abandoned them when they find the place all locked up in the morning.”

“That’s already been seen to.”

“What do you mean,
seen to
?”

“Checks were hand-delivered to them this morning and they all signed a binding severance agreement. A most generous one, you’ll be pleased to learn. There were no complaints.”

“I see.”

“So, how about your parents?”

“Gone.” Kizzy straightened her back awkwardly and looked into her glass to avoid his gaze. “Both dead. My mother died five months ago—hepatitis.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied gently. “Siblings?”

“No.”

“Another relative? A friend, perhaps?”

“Both sets of blood relatives disowned us twenty-five years ago when I was a baby.” Her smile was feigned. “And my stepfamily kicked us out the moment my stepfather’s will had been read. I’ll be quite happy never to see or hear from them again. As for my friends, they have enough problems of their own without adding mine to them. As you so eloquently pointed out in London, times are hard for everyone. Besides, I’m used to fending for myself.”

She put down her glass with a snap. “The only people I want to call are the Antonideses. But you won’t let me do that. You don’t trust me not to hurt the only people in the world who mean anything to me, the only ones who
care
whether I’m alive or dead.”

Andreas felt his heart rate pick up and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end in response to her anger.

“Then go ahead,” he murmured, raising his cool, unemotional guard to full alert. He slid the phone toward her across the table. “But I’d like to know what you’re going to say. We’ve been through all this before, I can’t risk you ruining everything.” He ripped a hand through the dark layers of his hair. “I’m not a monster, Kizzy. Can’t you see that?”

She was mesmerized by his earnest, exasperated expression. For just a moment she almost fell under his spell. Then she realized who she was speaking to, and jerkily stood up.

“You scared away a destitute child, Mr. Lazarides. A child begging for help. I can’t get the image of him out of my head, running for his life. How am I supposed to feel about a man as rich as you doing such a heartless thing?”

Andreas rose abruptly from his seat and took two strides around the table so they were face to face. “You speak Greek?” he asked furiously, his accent more pronounced as his voice rose.

“You know I don’t,” Kizzy replied.

“Then you cannot possibly comment upon what passed between me and the child.”

“So enlighten me.” Kizzy drew herself up, her chin still tipped determinedly back to meet his stare.

“I was sending him away before he landed himself in real trouble,” Andreas replied through gritted teeth.

“Where were you sending him? To an even darker corner of hell?”

“No.” Andreas shook his head gravely. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Toward the Light of Hope.”

He reached out a tanned hand and cupped her chin firmly, forcing her to meet the intensity burning in his eyes. “It’s a low-key charity run by Orthodox brothers in the back streets. They feed, clothe and comfort anyone they find in desperate need or who is referred by a trusted patron. Unfortunately, it has had to be kept clandestine to deter freeloaders who would abuse their mission. I gave that boy my name and sent him to Carlo’s ice cream parlor. He will have been fed immediately and by now should be tucked up in a clean, warm bed.”

Kizzy stared at him, shocked. “I don’t know what to say.”

“An apology would be gratefully received.” He allowed his hand to fall, still registering the soft, warm, silken feel of her skin against his.

“I’m
so
sorry.” Kizzy’s voice cracked with mortification. “I said some unforgivable things. But I was angry.”

“You wished me dead, I imagine,” he agreed. “I can’t blame you, it’s that level of feeling that got me involved with the brothers in the first place. Anger can be a good thing when it’s channeled correctly.”

Kizzy nodded and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Angry is all I ever seem to be these days. Apart from tired, of course.”

“Then we must change that.” Andreas glanced once again into the deep violet of her eyes. “There’s no reason this can’t be a new beginning for you too. If there’s no one at home, no family, no significant other…”

Kizzy felt the breath catch in her lungs as he lowered his head to bring his mouth against hers, gentle and explorative at first. Her lips parted helplessly to welcome him and she felt herself melt into the tough warmth of his body. She should stop this, she thought hazily, even as their kiss deepened in intensity.

His warm hand sliding effortlessly under her camisole, Andreas stroked the soft flesh there with a light, skillful touch.

His body was hard and burning against hers and—and she should
stop.

She should stop her tongue entwining so wantonly with his, and suppress the piercing need that thrust her breasts against the solid wall of his chest.

Yet she couldn’t seem to stop. And maybe she didn’t have to stop. Maybe she just
wouldn’t
.

Chapter Five

A creaking door brought Kizzy sharply back to reality. Andreas tore his mouth away from hers for the second time that day. She heard bustling sounds around the kitchen door and knew they should move away from each other as quickly as possible. Yet she was frozen to the spot like a rabbit in headlights.

Her voice was barely a whisper over the frantic pounding of her heart.

“It’s Dorinda!”

“So what do you feel now?” Andreas’s dark, velvety voice seemed to ripple up and down her spine. “Angry? Tired?”

She did not reply but drew a slow breath instead, steadying herself against the emotions raging inside. Part of her was beginning to believe that Andreas could see right through her, right to the gauche creature that was too eager to please, too hungry, too needy for human closeness.

“Say it, Kizzy,” he said, pulling the flat softness of her belly against the unmistakable ridge of his arousal. He lightly touched his tongue against the corner of her mouth and saw her eyelids flutter with excitement. “Admit that you want me.”

Kizzy felt delirious. Heated sensations were racing from her mouth to her breasts, to the apex of her thighs. Yet even in the sexual maelstrom consuming her body, her brain still registered that Dorinda was perilously close.

Instinctively, she tried to push him away—without success.

“
Tell me
,” he said, and skimmed his thumb across the rough lace of her bra cup. “I won’t let you go until you tell me how you are feeling.”

The effect he was having on her, and the tide of emotion threatening to overwhelm her, were like nothing she had ever experienced before.

Her body thrummed with sexual heat. She felt intoxicated. He could do with her as he wished and she knew she would be glad and greedy, burning for his slightest touch.

Her body had almost dissolved on contact with his. Caught in a primitive female state, she struggled against an unbearable current of need. Rendered shameless and wanton, all she could think of was how she craved the firm invasion of his rigid flesh inside her.

But deep down she knew it was impossible. Not with this man. Not with her new boss, of all people.

“Andreas, no.” Her chin dropped as she felt him draw back with a shuddering breath. “I feel very confused.”

He studied her anxious face for a moment as he let his hands fall, and then a shutter seemed to close behind his eyes. He turned to beckon an awkward-looking Dorinda out of the shadows.

“Confused? Poor Kizzy.” He led her by the elbow back to her seat, seemingly oblivious to her flushed features and trembling awareness. “You must be very hungry by now, I’m sure.”

He gestured for her to sit down as if nothing had just happened, though he deliberately brushed the back of her neck with his fingertips. A reminder that their business was unfinished, perhaps.

…

As Dorinda served them flatbreads, tzatziki and olives, Andreas took great interest in being able to observe Kizzy in the presence of a third party. Apart from the thirty seconds with Stephanos aboard the yacht, she had been able to avert her gaze, walk away, and snub him continuously. Right now she was trapped by her own sense of propriety, by good old-fashioned manners.

Watching the two women together, he noted how Dorinda was smiling. The elderly housekeeper approved.

He found that interesting. Dorinda had an innate instinct about whether a person was eligible to be welcomed into the realm of Lazarides. She was as protective as a mother hen when it came to her employer.

Yet each time Kizzy glanced down at her meal, Dorinda shot him a hard look, her eyes bright and her lips set in a line of pure granite.

Kizzy was the first woman he had brought to Villa Madeline, a significant enough act by itself. But now, seeing her hard expression, he was convinced that Dorinda had seen them kissing in the shade of the ancient fig tree.

A kiss meant they were as good as married in her eyes!

For some reason the potential storm brewing did not dampen his upbeat mood. The blood was surging in his veins for the first time in years. He found the sensation exhilarating.

So Dorinda thought Kizzy was his lover?

That could work to his advantage. Admittedly, he would be damned for his morals at some stage, he knew that, but at least it would mean they would not be disturbed tonight. His housekeeper knew when to make herself scarce, of that he was sure. The villa had always been a sanctuary, a place of extraordinary peace amongst the village hubbub, and now—now there was a refreshingly new and vibrant edge to it.

Kizzy Dean bore a halo of intrigue around her, he mused, a shimmering illusion of innocence and vulnerability.

Well, he was going to break that halo, Andreas decided. He would have her writhing in his bed tonight, get this powerful desire to possess her out of his system by morning. Then maybe his life could return to some kind of normality.

“You called me Andreas,” he said, watching Dorinda disappear back into the kitchen. “
Twice
.”

Kizzy blushed violently. “I’m sorry about that, Mr.—”

“Don’t apologize, I like it better that way.” He breathed in slowly, acutely aware of her discomfort as she fiddled with her fork. “We were being a little too intimate for such formality, don’t you think?”

He wished she would look him in the eye.

“And you can relax without Dorinda here.” He leaned across the table toward her. “We can talk quite freely now.”

“That’s good,” Kizzy replied with a slight catch to her voice. Their eyes locked once more. “I think it would be appropriate to have a working supper, don’t you? I’ll be out from under your feet by tomorrow and I don’t want to impose any more than necessary.”

“I seem to recall we were having a most interesting discussion before Dorinda interrupted us, and it had very little to do with work or you being under my
feet
.”

Kizzy cleared her throat and did her best to ignore the unmistakably sexual tone that persisted in his voice. “I think it would be useful to discuss what possible role I could have in your business, don’t you?”

“But I don’t know what you’re capable of,” he replied with a teasing spark in his eye. “I’ve never seen you at work, so how can I possibly make an informed decision?”

“Well, you
could
ask me a few questions,” Kizzy suggested, feeling bolder. “As if this were an interview, perhaps?”

“Very well,” Andreas replied, putting on a bored expression. “If you must insist on being so incredibly uptight, we’ll play your game for a maximum of ten minutes. I’m tired of working.”

Which was a lie, he acknowledged, watching her. He was always working on something; his energy and insatiable drive were what made him who he was.

Tonight, though, he wanted to play for a change.

“Fire away,” Kizzy said, a smile dancing on her lips. “I’m ready.”

Andreas said nothing for a few moments, stroking his chin thoughtfully, making her wait just long enough to force out a blush at the awkward silence he was creating between them.

“What was your degree?”

“Honors,” Kizzy said promptly.

“No,” he corrected her. “I meant, what did you study at university? What was your degree in?”

“Oh, sorry,” Kizzy mumbled. First mistake. “Art and classics.”

“Not the most practical of disciplines. What had you planned to do afterward? Become a librarian?”

“I didn’t plan that far ahead,” Kizzy admitted uncomfortably, and then realized she must sound like a complete airhead. “My mother and teachers encouraged me to study whatever interested me most, as I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. They said it would make working hard and achieving good grades so much easier if I had a passion for the subject. I could worry about my future career path later.”

“And that proved to be sound advice?” he asked softly. “Considering your circumstances now?”

“Probably not.” She looked down at her hands. “But at that stage I had no idea we were virtually penniless, and that my mother had taken out huge loans. If I’d known, I would have been a lot more pragmatic, taken something more vocational. Or not gone to college at all.”

“I see.” He speared a shiny black olive on a fork. “But you got top grades, which proves you can apply yourself and see something through to the end.”

“I loved it,” she explained. “I have no regrets, apart from the fact that my earning potential is virtually nil as it stands. And that my mother sacrificed so much.”

“So how old are you? Twenty-two, twenty-three?”

“Twenty-four.”

Andreas noted the flush appearing on the pale flesh of her throat. “You weren’t at Timi’s for two years, surely? You must have been able to get a better job than that in such a time. Or maybe you just couldn’t be bothered.”

“It wasn’t like that. I’d only been working at Timi’s for a few months before they sold, just to tide me over.”

He did the mental calculations. “So there’s a full year missing out of your CV. Do I spy an indulgent gap year in there somewhere? Cheap cocktails and free love in the South China Sea, perhaps?”

Kizzy gritted her teeth at the way he seemed to be laughing at her. “I worked as a temp for a year in Portsmouth before I went to college. To save some money to help Mum out. I didn’t want to feel like a freeloader.”

“Not sufficiently independent that she didn’t have to go into debt to bail you out though?”

He had gone too far now.

“I had no idea about the debts until after she died. She kept them secret from me, told me she had put money away when we were living with my stepfather and that I wasn’t to worry. She was adamant that I should have a good education, that I should develop confidence in myself and never have to rely on a man like…like she had to.”

She paused to catch her breath, which was becoming shaky with emotion.

“And before you even think
about saying anything unpleasant about my mother, you need to be aware that she had sensible plans in place for paying back all that money. She had a job, she was managing the payments…and she was only forty-two. I don’t suppose she had any reason to think she was going to die.”

Andreas looked at her. Her eyes might be angry and defiant, but they were also shimmering with tears.

“Five months ago, you said?” He looked discreetly away as a tear slipped down her cheek. He knew only too well the bitter pain she was suffering and how badly he would not have wanted someone see him cry. “Then you are still in mourning. I’m sorry.”

Kizzy was relieved to see Dorinda re-emerge from the kitchen, a large earthenware casserole in her arms.

Dorinda took one look at Kizzy and snapped an accusing glare at Andreas before depositing her burden noisily onto the table between them.

“
Kleftico
,” the older woman announced gruffly and left, though not before glancing Andreas a sharp, surreptitious blow with her kitchen towel.

“I never asked if you were a vegetarian,” Andreas said as he lifted the lid and flinched backward from a blast of steam. “It’s lamb stew.”

“Sounds good,” Kizzy replied.

“So, getting back to what you were saying earlier,” he ladled a huge spoonful of stew onto her plate, “I’m curious to know how you ended up at Timi’s. If that’s not too intrusive a question.”

“Not at all.” He had a perfectly legitimate right to be interested in her rather shabby career profile, and she needed to be professional and pull herself together. “Mum worked for the Antonideses as a waitress after we left my stepfather’s house. She found us a place to live nearby while I studied. I helped out from time to time, and then did more once I’d graduated, to cover Mum when she started to get ill.”

Andreas noticed her distress. “It’s okay, take your time.”

“When she died, everything came to light—including the debts that I’d inherited. I couldn’t afford to stay in the flat and had to sell pretty much everything in it. Theo and Ana took pity on me, invited me into their home, and treated me like their own daughter. I paid them back in the only way I could—by working in their restaurant.” She sighed. “Everything’s happened so quickly over the past six months. I owe them a great deal.”

Andreas shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The Antonides family had made it a lifetime quest to play the Good Samaritan, it seemed. “Then you will no doubt be comforted to know that they want for nothing now. Their kindness over the years has been rewarded and they have the dream retirement they so richly deserve.”

“Of course I am,” she agreed quickly. “Now maybe you can see why I would never want to hurt them? They’re like parents to me.”

“Then you will have no hesitation in signing a cast-iron guarantee to that effect.” He smiled with satisfaction as he helped himself to the traditional Greek stew. “I’m sure we can have something drafted up after the weekend and then forget all about that dreadful establishment.”

Kizzy rested her chin thoughtfully on her hand. “I’m still not clear where you come into all this, why Heliades bought up the ‘dead duck,’ as you described it. Property prices in that area of Portsmouth would never be enough for the fantastic villa they’ve just bought in Cyprus, not to mention the holiday apartment in Lake Como and the cruiser. You said their debts were astronomical.”