Kidnapped by the Greek Billionaire (8 page)

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Authors: Rachel Lyndhurst

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BOOK: Kidnapped by the Greek Billionaire
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Taking a step backward into the bedroom, Kizzy noticed for the first time that there was a set of floor-to-ceiling carved wooden doors that must lead out onto the balcony.

With a rush of excitement, she grasped the heavy metal handles and tugged them open.

The generous white balcony was sheltered from the sun’s rays by a mustard-colored awning with castellated edges. Underfoot, an elaborately inlaid pebble floor tickled the soles of her feet.

At the outer edge of the balcony rose a tower that looked like an elaborate dovecote with green-shuttered windows shaped like archways. An intricate double rope pattern was carved around the edge of each one, and Kizzy guessed they must have the most amazing panoramic views of the sea when open. The balcony wall had been decorated with a row of lemons, whose skin shone seductively and begged to be touched. Kizzy lifted one to inhale its refreshing aroma.

She knelt on a low sofa covered with Moorish-looking throws and leaned her elbows on the wall to stare out across the bay.

The view was more impressive from here. She could even make out the little fishing boats that were sailing in and out. The blast of a ship’s horn broke the idyll and drew her attention toward the jetty and tavernas she had passed with Andreas the night before.

An old ferry was belching into the bay, seeming to list slightly with its burden of sightseers, and it had shimmied a little too close to the imposing bows of
Elektron.

Kizzy laughed, emitting a witchy cackle. “Mess with Lazarides at your peril, little boat!”

She bit down pensively on her bottom lip. The scene out in the bay summed it up for her: sleek super-yacht putting a scruffy old boat in its place. It was a warning from the gods, she told herself wryly, to remind her of the fire she had played with last night.

“I heard that,” came a deep voice from below.

Kizzy gasped and dropped the lemon she had been holding as she leaned over the edge to see where he was. There wasn’t the slightest doubt in her mind as to who had spoken. She peered down into the shady courtyard, and saw her boss staring straight back up at her, tossing the lemon nonchalantly from hand to hand.

Dressed casually in taupe cargo shorts, he radiated pure maleness. A black T-shirt clung to his torso in a revealing and erotic manner, hugging the hard contours of his shoulders and muscular chest. She felt her mouth go dry as her eyes drifted from his chest to his bare legs. Golden skin with a smattering of dark hair fed her imagination as she considered what the rest of his body might look like undressed.

“I didn’t realize you were there.”

“Clearly not,” he replied, and threw the lemon back up to her.

He locked the door at the base of the tower, then slid the key back into his pocket.

“Dorinda will bring breakfast up to you shortly. After you eat, I’d like to get out and about. A few issues have arisen since we arrived that need to be addressed quickly.” He stared at her silently for a few seconds. “And I need to deal with
you
, Miss Dean.”

Kizzy felt heat flare in her cheeks as Andreas turned and strode away through an archway leading from the courtyard, disappearing down a flight of rugged steps into a lush tangle of greenery.

Miss Dean
?

So he had decided to revert to formality in the light of day. He must have seen sense and decided to forget the ridiculous “be my mistress” proposition he had made the night before.

Well, that would be good. It was the only sensible course to take.

She drew the edges of the silk robe Andreas had purchased for her on Rhodes closer across her chest. He was undoubtedly a very proud man who wasn’t used to his offers being refused, so he was pretending that the whole sorry episode had never happened.

She would be wise not to allude to it either, she thought, and pressed her lips together. And as for that odd, disappointed feeling in her stomach?

It could only be hunger, nothing more.

Chapter Seven

 

Kizzy wandered nervously down the steps from her room to the sun-drenched courtyard below, comforting herself with the thought that Andreas appeared to have put the unfortunate episode the previous evening behind him and she must do the same. She must forget all about it. And when she saw him again shortly she would absolutely
not
allow herself to stare at his body, or wish that she could tangle her fingers through his black hair once more. Or even notice how good Andreas smelled, with that clean, spicy, male scent of his.

She felt a frisson of annoyance and roughly wrenched the strap of her handbag across her body as she reached the table they had shared at dinner the previous night. It had been simply decorated with a potted succulent, all neat and perfectly tidy with no trace of the passion that had burned there previously.

She jerked suddenly as a large hand closed over her shoulder from behind.

“You’ve put your hair up.” Andreas smiled down as her startled face snapped around to meet his gaze. “It looks much prettier down, like you had it first thing this morning.”

“It’s hot,” Kizzy replied feebly and rubbed the back of her neck as if to emphasize the point, though it was really to disguise the blush his observation had caused.

“This morning I’ll show you around some of my commercial interests in Lindos. I also need to visit the property office and sort out a few problems—you may be able to help me out.” He took a notebook out of his back pocket along with a small, scruffy plastic pen, and handed them to her. “I have no idea where your business skills lie but I’m sure you couldn’t have pulled off a degree without being able to write. You can take notes for me when necessary.”

“Fine,” Kizzy replied brightly as she fought the urge to tell him just how condescending he sounded. “I think I can manage that.”

“Good.” He ignored the sour turn of her mouth. “There’s a ridiculous rumor circulating that my office manager is about to hand her notice in. I have no idea where these absurd stories originate, but on this occasion I can’t resist checking it out.”

“It couldn’t be true?” Kizzy replied as she slipped the notepad and pen into her bag, having made sure their hands would not touch.

“Of course not.” He began to stride toward the large gated front door in the wall. “No one has ever resigned from my employ. Why on earth would they?”

Kizzy resisted the urge to say something along the lines of “Because you’re an autocratic control freak?” and managed instead to mumble, “I can’t begin to imagine.” She kept her eyes firmly focused on the path below her feet and not on the visual temptation of his magnificently broad back as she followed him into the busy streets of Lindos village.

Their stroll through the growing crowds that filled the arterial alleyways was pleasantly brief and, mercifully for Kizzy’s aching calves, downhill.

Andreas paused outside a small doorway set in a shady recess reached via two time-worn, white stone steps partially obscured by a sleeping ginger cat.

The hand-painted blue and white sign of Lazarides’ Property offices was a more relaxed affair than the stern, metalwork plate outside his vast London headquarters. This sign was battered with rust spots and rattled askew as he pushed open the glass-fronted door with one confident hand and walked though.

An ancient bell announced their arrival. Andreas shot Kizzy a glance that seemed to be more about checking to see that she was still there than to reassure her, before turning the sign to its “Closed” position.

He locked the door and strode assertively toward a door at the rear.

“Get Miss Dean a drink, Angie,” was the brusque command he threw over his shoulder. “And I don’t want to be disturbed.”

As the door clicked shut behind him, the petite young blonde behind the reception desk raised her eyebrows in a silent, comical gesture that couldn’t have been more different from the chilly professionalism of Isabella back in London. “What’s gotten in to him today?”

“I think it may have something to do with a rumor that’s been going round.”

“Oh yes?” Angie replied, her green eyes widening with curiosity. “Would you like a can of something?” she asked, and opened the door of a large drink fridge.

“Yes, please. Something about someone resigning?” She noticed the other woman wince as she handed Kizzy an ice-cold can. “So it’s true?”

“Afraid so. But it’s not like it sounds, honestly it isn’t. He’s the best boss either of us has ever had and we both love it here, but life happens and Liz’s been trying to talk to him for
ages
.” She took a seat next to Kizzy and curled her long tanned legs up beneath her like the sleeping cat outside. Her eyes rounded on Kizzy with intensified interest. “He hasn’t been answering his phone. Are you being lined up to work here?”

Kizzy was taken aback by the directness of her question but blinked back her surprise. “I don’t think so. That is, I can’t be sure about anything at this stage.”

“Pity. Now that Liz’s pregnant, she’ll be heading straight to Australia with her boyfriend and it’s left me in a bit of a spot—” Angie suddenly looked horrified. “Whoops! I think I’ve just let the cat out of the bag.”

Kizzy shook her head and smiled, comforted by Angie’s friendly company. For the first time in days she felt warm on the inside.

“I won’t say a word, I promise.”


 

“You seem a lot more cheerful since our little trip to the office,” Andreas remarked as he absentmindedly ran a lean finger up and down the icy mist of his beer glass. “Anything I should know?”

“What’s there for me to be unhappy about?” Kizzy took a deep breath of the breeze that coasted up from the bay and cooled her skin beneath the canopy of a tiny rooftop restaurant. “I’ve just had the most delicious meal, the view is amazing, and my indulgent boss has cleared all my debts. It’s a new beginning for me and I’m very excited.”

Andreas quirked up an eyebrow. “I’m glad to hear it. You’re obviously having a better day than I am.”

“Is it so bad?” She tipped her head sympathetically to one side and then averted her eyes before letting the next few words slip out. “Was it bad news this morning?”

“Yes and no. Liz
is
in fact resigning her position as office manager and leaving Lindos, which is a huge shame—she’s very good.” He pursed his lips together and considered the bubbles that were rising to the top of his drink. A slight edge crept into his voice. “But she’s going to have a baby with the man she says she loves, so what more can one say?”

“I see.”

He shrugged and looked distractedly away toward the nearby acropolis that rose high into a vibrant blue sky. “I can only wish her the best and hope it all works out the way she thinks it will.”

“You don’t sound too convinced,” Kizzy replied cautiously.

“I’m not. They’ve got no money saved, no qualifications, and no property, but they have
love
.” He tipped the glass of beer to his mouth. “They seem to think that’s all they’re going to need.”

A waiter drifted close to their table and silence fell for a few seconds before Andreas flicked her an uncomfortable, rigid smile.

“Ridiculous, isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Me neither, and that is quite simply because there is no such thing as
love
. The notion is a convenient myth that’s developed over millennia to facilitate social control and stability—just like all those crazy religions out there. Oh, and throw in a marriage vow and it makes it a lot easier for a guy to get regular sex as well.” He frowned at the pink tinge on Kizzy’s cheeks. “I just hope Liz knows what she’s getting herself into. It beats me how a girl can get pregnant by accident these days—there’s no excuse for it really.”

“You’re not the marrying kind then, judging by what you just said?” She couldn’t help but register the shocked expression on his face. “I mean, as you said, you don’t need to these days. Unless you’re very traditional or religious or—” She could feel she was digging herself deeper and deeper into a very big hole of embarrassment. “Or for financial reasons.”

She coughed away her discomfiture and began to fiddle with the stem of her wineglass, anything to avoid the glowering expression that dominated his features. She should just shut up.

“Marriage?” He lifted his eyes skyward and let out a bitter laugh. “Once was quite enough, trust me.”

His jaw lowered to meet her gaze with ultimate precision, and she felt as if she were being sucked into the eye of a dark storm.

“The institution is pointless—it didn’t stop my father from being a serial philanderer and making my mother’s life a humiliating misery. Why they never divorced is beyond me. Still,” his bottom lip tightened with disgust, “my mother’s dead and the old goat’s so senile now he’s oblivious to the damage he did. As for my own taste of wedded bliss? It was a living hell. So your answer is a definite no. I’d never, ever do anything that stupid a second time.”

His mum had died too…and he’d been married…

Kizzy felt a strange sensation of renewed loss and disappointment. She quickly looked over to his left hand to confirm the absence of a wedding ring. He must have loved his mother, but he clearly had no feeling left for the woman he had once cared about enough to marry. Not because he loved her, of course—he’d made his feelings known about that particular notion. But his revelation was creating more questions than answers in Kizzy’s mind.

What had happened?

Where was his wife now?

Had there been any children from the marriage?

Kizzy was sickened by the pounding of her heart as unbidden images forced their way to the front of her mind: Andreas in his dark, sartorial suit, smiling into the face of his beautiful, ivory-swathed bride; then the image of him naked and determined, rolling over to caress his wife’s slender limbs beneath crisp, white sheets; the sable, downy head of their baby in the crook of his protective arm…

Kizzy shook her head to banish the madness that seemed to be consuming her and said the first thing that came into her head, just to change the subject.

“I’ve got good news.” She smiled as brightly as she could when he quirked up an eyebrow to indicate she should continue, and suddenly realized there was no going back now that she had started. “I can move out of your villa immediately. Get out from under your feet. That’s good, isn’t it?”

Andreas glared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m moving in with Angie,” she said, straightening her back to reinforce her determination. “She told me that Liz’s room has been empty for weeks and the rent’s all paid up to the end of the month, so my first few weeks will be free. Isn’t that lovely of her? Of course, I’ll show my appreciation in some other way once I’ve been paid. Cook a few meals, bring home the odd bottle of wine—”

“Stop right there.”

Andreas clenched a fist under the table as he battled against the very real but uncharacteristic urge to raise his voice and show how very angry he was feeling. Still smarting from the freshly resurrected and sour memories of his marriage,
his
failed marriage
, he was now faced with the unpleasant situation of having control slipping from his fingers once more.

Women! Give them more than a few minutes together and they would be plotting and planning against you before you could do a thing to stop it.

Well, stop it he would—this was not how things should be happening and not
part of his strategy for getting Kizzy Dean where he wanted her. And that was very firmly installed in his bed with the door closed to the outside world.

“I did not give you permission to start making clandestine arrangements behind my back.” His nostrils flared with irritation. “I will not permit it.”

“It’s too late for that, I’m afraid,” Kizzy replied, an uncomfortable dryness at the back of her throat. “I’ve already given Angie my word. And she’s turned down all the other offers she had in favor of mine.”

Andreas sliced a hand through the air as if trying to bat off an annoying insect. “Leave Angie to me. She will fully understand that an urgent change in circumstances means her new roommate won’t be moving in for a while.”

He leaned his elbows on the table, knotted his fingers tightly together, and glowered at her as his brain went into overdrive, revising his previous plans for a romantic dinner for two, a barefoot stroll in the moonlight, and a magnum of his favorite champagne.

“It’s Friday afternoon. There’s no way I can realistically speed up production of our contract and have it ready for signature today. I e-mailed the bare bones of it to my chief executive in Rhodes this morning while you were asleep, but these things take time to do properly.”

“But—”

“But nothing
.
” His eyes flashed dangerously. “I warned you at the start that I wasn’t letting you out of my sight until there were some cast-iron guarantees between us. Nothing has happened to alter that.”

“So I
am
a prisoner, after all,” Kizzy stated quietly. “I suppose I should be grateful you haven’t locked me up in that tower of yours.”

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