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It wasn’t right.
‘And there’s nothing I can do.’ Carissa sniffled.
‘Of course there is. They can’t force you onto the plane. Or into marriage.’
‘I can’t not go. What about my father’s job?’ She hiccupped. ‘But if I go, what about Pierre? His family will find a way to stop our wedding.’
Mina wanted to tell Carissa to grow a backbone and stand up for herself. But Carissa wasn’t made that way. Besides, she cared for her father, though he’d got her into this mess. Plus it sounded, from other things she’d said, as if Mr Carter hadn’t recovered from his wife’s recent death. That might explain why he’d slipped up at work. A good employer would make allowances for grief. Mina suspected Alexei Katsaros was a domineering tyrant, considering no one but himself.
Irresistibly, her thoughts dragged back to those fraught days after her father’s death. Her future and her sister’s had hung in the balance, their fate determined by a man with little sympathy for their hopes and wishes.
Mina remembered the horror of being utterly powerless.
She refused to let Carissa become a chattel to buy her father out of trouble, or satisfy Katsaros’s desire for a convenient, biddable wife.
‘I’ve packed a bag. I can’t reach my father, so I’ll have to go. But it means leaving Pierre.’ Carissa wrung her hands and Mina felt something snap inside.
Carissa was sweet but she had as much grit as a marshmallow. Between them, Katsaros and Carter could herd her into a marriage that would make her miserable for the rest of her life. Mina couldn’t change her friend into a woman who’d look a thug in the eye and send him packing, or tell her father he couldn’t marry her off to a stranger. But she could delay things long enough for Carissa and Pierre to marry. A few days, a week at most.
‘How long before they collect you?’
Carissa’s answer was drowned by a sharp rap on the door. She gasped and grabbed Mina’s hands.
The last shred of doubt fled Mina’s brain as she read her friend’s terror and despair. Carissa was a pushover, but Mina wasn’t.
She got to her feet.
* * *
‘Still no sign of Carter, sir. He hasn’t been home.’
Alexei’s grip tightened on the phone and he ground his teeth in frustration. But he refrained from chewing out the head of his London office. It wasn’t MacIntyre’s fault Carter had done a bunk. Alexei should have acted sooner, but initially he hadn’t wanted to believe Carter’s guilt. The man had been at his side for years, the only person Alexei really trusted.
That was why his betrayal cut so deep. Trust came hard to Alexei. He’d seen his mother betrayed and cast aside, made into a victim and her life shortened, because she trusted too easily.
Alexei bore a lot of the blame. He’d been gullible, falling for his stepfather’s charm, believing the man genuinely cared. He’d persuaded his mother to let the guy into their lives. Too late they discovered he’d only cultivated Alexei to get to his mother and her dead husband’s insurance payment.
No one could accuse Alexei of gullibility now.
That was what made it so remarkable that, despite his caution, he’d come to believe in Carter. It wasn’t just his way with numbers. His almost uncanny knack for identifying problems and possible solutions. It was his reticence, his scrupulous separation of business and personal life. He’d been the perfect executive.
Until his double-dealing came to light.
Alexei felt that sucker punch of betrayal. Worse this time because he should have known better. He was no innocent kid.
‘Keep me informed. Have the investigator check in daily.’
‘Yes, sir. Of course, sir.’
Alexei ended the call and scraped a hand through his hair, telling himself he’d grown soft. He should have acted sooner. Now he had to play catch-up.
He swung round to pace, ignoring the turquoise water and white sand beyond the window. He didn’t want to be in the Caribbean, no matter how restful his private retreat. He wanted to be wherever Carter was. The man’s depredations had been deep. Not enough to destabilise Alexei’s business but enough to send a ripple of disquiet through anyone savvy enough to discover Alexei had been duped.
Despite his policy of employing the best, most innovative people in the industry, Alexei Katsaros was his company as far as the market was concerned. He’d worked hard to establish one of the world’s leading software companies and build a reputation as a canny entrepreneur. His nose for success was only rivalled by his company’s groundbreaking IT solutions. News of his fallibility would crack that image and damage his company’s position.
Damn Carter. Where was he hiding?
Alexei slammed to a halt as he heard a vehicle through the open window.
At last. The ace up his sleeve.
Alexei breathed deep, easing cramped lungs, assuring himself that now, finally, he had the upper hand.
He crossed to the window and watched as the four-wheel drive pulled up. The driver’s door opened but before Henri could get out the front passenger door swung open and someone alighted.
Alexei’s brow twitched into a frown. That couldn’t be her. He waited for the rear door to open but it stayed steadfastly shut. Henri walked ponderously to the rear of the vehicle and pulled out a single suitcase of candy pink.
That was all. One suitcase and one passenger, though not the passenger he expected.
Alexei’s frown became a scowl. The call from Paris had assured him that she’d been collected from her apartment and deposited on his jet. Yet surely this wasn’t Carter’s daughter. He’d expected a fashion tragic with mountains of luggage.
His gaze rested on the svelte figure of a woman who stood, hands on her hips and head back, surveying his home. Far from being addicted to high-end fashion as he’d been led to believe, she wasn’t dressed in designer casuals for a tropical island holiday, but for...what? A yoga class? An artist’s garret?
Understanding took root. That was it.
Carter, when he’d raised the preposterous idea of a match between Alexei and his daughter, had waxed voluble about the girl he’d never mentioned in years of employment. He’d wittered on about her beauty and charm, her sweet disposition and eagerness to please. And her aspirations to be an artist in between shopping. She lived in Paris, playing at an artistic career, no doubt funded by the money Carter had embezzled from Alexei.
Pain radiated from Alexei’s jaw down his neck to his tight shoulders.
He yanked his thoughts from Carter’s crimes to the man’s daughter.
She took her pretensions seriously. Or perhaps the outfit was for his benefit, though surely it wasn’t designed to please a man. Flat black shoes, black leggings and an oversized black T-shirt that gaped over one shoulder.
Definitely not Alexei’s style. He preferred a woman who dressed like a woman.
Yet even as he dismissed Carissa Carter as not his type, his gaze lingered on the length of shapely legs silhouetted in black. Long legs, the sort of legs he’d enjoy wrapped around his waist during sex.
His gaze flicked higher, skimming her slight figure. He supposed, in the right gear, she’d be a perfect clothes horse, but personally he preferred a woman whose curves were more abundant.
Then the tilt of her head altered and he found himself face-to-face with her.
She was too far away for him to make out her features properly. Just good bone structure and dark hair pulled ruthlessly back into a bun. He had the impression of a wide, mobile mouth, but he wasn’t paying attention. His thoughts were on the sudden throb pulsing through his belly.
It couldn’t be attraction. Not for the daughter of a criminal. A woman whose lifestyle had probably fed her father’s depredations. He had no proof Carissa Carter knew of her father’s crimes, but she’d benefited. Maybe she’d been in on the scheme, eager to fund her easy life in Paris. Alexei couldn’t trust her. He’d play the part of eager suitor, pretending he was in the market for a wife.
As if he needed a third party to find him a woman!
He stared back at her, expecting her to duck her head and pretend not to see him.
Instead she stood motionless, watching as if he were under the microscope. It was a curious feeling. Alexei was used to people inclining their heads in agreement or deference. Except women, who tended to stare.
Carissa’s bold regard was something altogether different. It sent heat skittering down his spine, drawing every sense to hyperalert.
Finally, after she’d looked her fill, she turned to Henri. Alexei caught a flash of white teeth as she smiled but it was the coltish grace of her movements that held his attention. There was a fluidity to her supple body that reminded him of a Russian ballet dancer with whom he’d once shared a fiery affair. Alexei recalled not only the dancer’s grace but her athleticism and body awareness that had taken sexual pleasure to a new level.
He watched Carissa Carter saunter towards his house. Shoulders back, head up, yet she didn’t march. Instead that loose-limbed stroll was a symphony of sensual femininity.
For his benefit?
Of course.
His guest might play at being the bohemian artist, but if she was her father’s daughter, she’d have her eye on the main game, getting Alexei’s money.
For the first time since he’d learned of Carter’s betrayal, Alexei smiled.
He didn’t want the woman here, except as bait to draw her father. The fact she’d accepted his summons told him she’d sell herself into marriage with a man she didn’t even know. Though she knew the size of his bank balance. That regularly featured in rich lists around the world.
It could be amusing watching her try to seduce him.
CHAPTER TWO (#u7bc6ec93-0453-5048-acd3-10880e5beafa)
MINA KNEW ABOUT WEALTH. She’d been born royal. But her family riches and privilege were tied to duty, responsibility and service. The palace where she’d grown up had been the nerve centre for her country’s administration.
This was pure sybaritic indulgence.
As if it wasn’t enough to own a tropical island rimmed with beaches so white they looked like sugar frosting, Alexei Katsaros’s home was the last word in luxury. The pool wrapped around the house so every room looked out on water. There was a bar actually in the pool too, so he and his guests wouldn’t have to stir from the water to get a drink.
Four-poster daybeds were scattered around the pool, their gauzy hangings romantic and alluring. Her artist’s eye appreciated the cushions in turquoise, teal and jade that reflected the vibrant shades of the tropical garden and the sea beyond. Then there were the sculptures in pale stone, which she glimpsed through the greenery. She itched to detour and investigate.
Forcibly she yanked her attention back to the house. The huge entry door stood open. Beside her, Henri waited for her to precede him.
Strange, this momentary hesitation.
All the way from Paris she’d been buoyed by indignation on Carissa’s behalf. Now though, Mina knew an uncharacteristic moment of doubt. A wariness at odds with her practice of facing problems head-on.
Her impulsiveness, her father would have said.
Why? Mina wasn’t overawed by Katsaros’s wealth, or cowed by any threat he could make.
Yet for a moment, as her gaze locked on the big man watching her from inside, something unfamiliar quivered through her. Something starkly unsettling.
An inner voice urged her to flee while she had the chance.
Of course she lifted her chin and stared right back instead.
The bright bowl of azure sky above her seemed to drop lower, the air thickening as she drew a slow, steadying breath. Still, he held her gaze.
Her bloodstream fizzed, making her fingers and the soles of her feet tingle. For a second she wondered if she’d been hit by a bolt of lightning out of the clear sky, till reason told her that was impossible.
Deliberately she turned away, feigning interest in her surroundings. Yet the image imprinted on her retinas wasn’t the white mansion with its picture windows, but the powerfully built man whose eyes locked on her. Everything about him, from his wide-set stance to that deep, muscled chest revealed by his open shirt, screamed strength.
Well, Mina was strong too. No bossy tycoon would intimidate her.
Nodding to Henri, she headed for the door.
She was greeted by Henri’s wife, Marie, whose smiling eyes and lilting accent made Mina relax in spite of herself.
‘Alexei is eager to meet you but perhaps you’d like to freshen up first?’
Mina smiled and shook her head. The flight by private jet had been far from onerous. ‘Thank you, but no. I’m eager to meet my host.’
‘How...charming.’ The deep voice came from beyond Marie. Its cadence drew Mina’s skin tight, as if someone dragged a length of rich velvet across it. A shimmer of heat flared low in her body and she had to work to keep her expression bland.
Slowly, so slowly she seemed to feel each muscle and joint move, she turned her head towards the shadows.
Never had Mina been more grateful for her royal upbringing. She’d spent seventeen years learning to look composed and calm, even if she’d never quite mastered regal. At twelve she’d sat on podiums listening to interminable speeches. At fifteen she’d held her own at royal dinners. Her polite interest expression could fool everyone but her sister.
Which meant the man watching her through narrowed eyes had no idea she felt as if someone had sliced the tendons at the backs of her legs.
Mina’s knees shook for the merest instant before she stiffened them, but her cool smile remained steady. As for the sizzle in her blood, no one else knew about that.
She waited for him to frown and say she wasn’t Carissa Carter. Yet he simply stared down at her from his superior height. Could it really be that he didn’t know what Carissa looked like? That flaw in her plan had kept her awake on the flight from Europe. Yet, against the odds, it appeared he didn’t. So sure of himself. Arrogant enough to expect everyone to obey his every whim. So unquestioning.
Mina let her mouth curve slightly. ‘Mr Katsaros. How lovely to meet you at last.’
‘At last, Ms Carter? You’ve been waiting to meet me? Surely your trip was admirably quick?’ His hint of indolent surprise and the tilt of one slashing eyebrow gave him an air of smug superiority.
‘Oh, it was.’ Mina looked down and flicked lint from her sleeve. ‘Admirably so. Why, I didn’t even have time to check my diary for commitments that might clash before I was whisked away. Or to arrange for someone to keep an eye on my apartment.’
She let her brow pucker in a frown. ‘I hope the fruit I bought doesn’t spoil while I’m away. And the milk.’ She let her smile widen. ‘But I understand. I’m sure you’re used to wanting something and having it happen immediately. No time to waste on boring niceties like invitations or queries about whether the dates suited me.’
Below his rumpled black hair grooves corrugated that wide brow. Mina raised her hand. ‘Not that it matters. I know how terribly valuable your time is. After all, what could I possibly have scheduled that could be nearly as important?’
From behind her Mina heard a snuffle from Henri that sounded suspiciously like a stifled laugh. Then he excused himself, murmuring something about putting her luggage away and prudently followed his wife down a corridor.
Which left Mina alone with Alexei Katsaros.
He didn’t even seem to notice Marie and Henri leave. All his attention was on Mina.
If she were in the mood to feel fear it would have swamped her now, for the man watched her with the hyperawareness of a hunter. Then there was the sheer size of him, not only tall but well-built, all muscled strength beneath those straight shoulders. She’d caught a glimpse of a well-developed chest and taut abdominals that confirmed this man did far more than sit behind a desk, making money. His thighs beneath the faded jeans were those of a skier or a horseman, honed hard and strong.
Without taking his eyes off her, he slowly finished buttoning his white shirt. Then he tucked it into his faded jeans with a casual insouciance utterly at odds with the speculative gleam in his dark eyes.
Mina’s manufactured smile solidified as he took his time shoving the material down, his hand disappearing behind the denim. For reasons she couldn’t fathom the sight of him dressing made her pulse quicken. Her palm prickled as if her own hand slid down that flat abdomen.
‘I’m sorry, did my arrival wake you?’ The snap in her words betrayed her discomfort but Mina compensated for it by slowly taking stock of his tousled black hair and the dark shadow of beard growth across that solid jaw.
His hands fell to his sides and he stepped out of the shadows. The light hit sharply defined cheekbones, a well-shaped mouth and a stern blade of nose, down which he surveyed her. Mina was reminded of precious icons she’d seen. But whereas those old saints had looked flat and unreal, this man exuded raw energy and the glint in his dark eyes was anything but unworldly. Alexei Katsaros was too...physical for sainthood. With his imposing size and posture he could model for a cavalry officer from a previous century, supercilious and deadly in a bright uniform, with a sabre at his side.
