She Can't Say No to the Greek Tycoon

Giggling at his extravagance, Maddie ran her fingers through his rumpled hair. ‘I loved our wedding! I don’t go a bundle on splashy displays. And I promise I only threw that at you because your aunt tried to use it to make me feel inferior!’

Pushing her tumbling fringe out of her eyes, he kissed her again, briefly, then held her eyes with his and said ruefully, ‘If I’m honest, then I have to tell you that had I had my way we would have had a wedding to rival royalty! I wanted to show you off to the whole world! But …’ His lips compressed. ‘Your father is the most stubborn of men.’ His sudden smile dazzled her. ‘I think you inherited the pride gene from him! Imagine my dilemma when, as father of the bride, he insisted that he should pay for the wedding—every last penny. I guessed he didn’t have money to throw around, so what could I do but settle for the most low-key celebration known to man and announce that that was what we wanted—much though it went against the grain?’

‘Not just gorgeous, but sensitive and caring! Oh, Dimitri, I do love you!’ She tipped her head to drop kisses along his tough jawline. ‘Now, shut up, do! Stop tormenting me—and carry on where you left off!’

So he did. To her complete satisfaction. And his.

Maddie walked up through the gardens. Sweltering. Her knees were grubby where she’d been kneeling in the earth. Her face would be smeared with perspiration and dirt, too. But she couldn’t be happier. Her work on the neglected hollow of land at the far end of the grounds had afforded her great satisfaction, and Dimitri had looked on with interest and pride as she’d transformed it into an oasis of perfumed lilies, jasmine and lavender. The loveliest of places to sit in the cool of the evening, talking, laughing and relaxing together over a shared bottle of wine.

She couldn’t be happier if she tried, she reflected as, reaching the terrace, she saw her darling little Nik wriggle down from Eleni’s arms and scamper towards her on his sturdy little legs.

Lifting him up, she cuddled him closely. At sixteen months old he showed definite promise of becoming the spitting image of his handsome father.

Dismissing the smiling Eleni in the Greek she had been at pains to acquire, she dropped a kiss on the end of Nik’s little nose and reverted to English, ‘Time for your afternoon nap, sweetheart. And Daddy will be back to play with you after tea.’

Dimitri had proved to be a very hands-on father, and her heart wriggled inside her as she thought about the news she had to give him. But telling him he was about to be a father again would wait until they were on their special island tomorrow. And this year they would be taking Nik, which would be wonderful.

Alerted, as she always was, she looked up to see Dimitri emerging into the sunlight from the cool interior of the house. Wearing an immaculate dove-grey business suit, he was handsome as all-get-out. And when he gave her that slow, sexy smile of his and remarked, ‘Tatty old shorts, dirty face. And freckles,’ her heart just turned to treacle.

He loved her to bits, no matter how dishevelled she looked. And tonight she would be in a completely different guise. Wearing a sleek and beautiful designer gown, jewels at her throat, her hair tamed and piled on top of her head, she would be ready to mingle with the great and the good at the glittering charity gala that marked the end of the social season before everyone who was anyone fled Athens for coole

r climes.

Because Dimitri treated her like a princess her self-confidence had returned in spades, and she was comfortable in any company.

Their eyes held as he took his excited little son into his arms and told her, ‘I’ll settle him for his nap while you get ready to take a shower. Then I’ll join you. I’ve got the feeling that some pretty extensive work with a soapy hand is called for.’

Meeting the devilment in those fabulous gold eyes turned her grubby knees to water, and, in a fever of excitement, it was all she could do to get up to their room, where she stripped off and felt her breasts tighten in anticipation. The liquid, wanton heat pooling between her thighs was sizzling, the sizzling intensifying a thousandfold as he walked in to join her.

His tie had been discarded, and he’d left his suit jacket somewhere, and his lean hands were already dealing with the buttons of his pristine shirt as his eyes drifted over her with possessive intent and he said, ‘Serious soapy attention, indeed.’

THE GREEK TYCOON’S

INNOCENT MISTRESS

KATHRYN ROSS

About the Author

KATHRYN ROSS was born in Zambia, where her parents happened to live at that time. Educated in Ireland and England, she now lives in a village near Blackpool, Lancashire. Kathryn is a professional beauty therapist but writing is her first love. As a child she wrote adventure stories, and at thirteen was editor of her school magazine. Happily, ten writing years later, DESIGNED With LOVE was accepted by Mills & Boon. a romantic Sagittarian, she loves travelling to exotic locations.

CHAPTER ONE

NICHOLAS ZENTENAS found his quarry as soon as he stepped into the room. Although the wedding reception was in full swing, the ballroom crowded, he spotted her without difficulty. She was standing slightly apart from the mass of people between the bar area and the dance floor and there was something about her isolation amidst the crowds that drew him.

For a moment he was content to stand just inside the open French windows and observe her. The bright disco lights swirled around the darkness of the room, playing over her long blonde hair and highlighting her in a myriad of different colours that washed over her shapely figure in the long green dress.

She turned slightly and suddenly their eyes connected. He was momentarily taken aback by how beautiful she was. The snapshots taken by his private detective hadn’t done her justice.

Their eyes held for what seemed like a long time but was probably only seconds. He felt a sudden fierce buzz of adrenalin. The fact that she was desirable was going to make his task all the more pleasurable.

Cat dropped her eyes from his as her friends returned to her side. she was used to men looking at her but there was something about this man’s dark steady gaze that was different. It wasn’t just the fact that he was simply gorgeous; it was the way he had looked at her—like a hunter weighing up his prey. She had felt suddenly vulnerable and breathless all at the same time. It was a sensation she had never experienced before and it had left her strangely shaken. Even now, surrounded by the friendly chatter of her colleagues, she could still feel the heavy sensation of her pulse-beat as if it were in tune with the bass of the music pumping around her.

She took a long drink of her water and tried to dismiss the feeling. Maybe she was just hot. London was sweltering in a heatwave and, even though it was nearing midnight and all the doors and windows of the room were open, the temperature had to be around thirty degrees.

Maybe she was also a little too wary of men at the moment, she acknowledged to herself wryly. Recently she had found herself carefully judging every man who spoke to her, wondering if they had been sent by her father or half brother. Crazy really, but the closer she got to her twenty-first birthday the worse these feelings of distrust and anxiety became. Her birthday was now a little under three months away and she couldn’t wait for it to pass, she just wanted to get it over with and forget it.

She shouldn’t feel like this, she thought sadly. A twenty-first should be something to look forward to, a time of happy family celebrations. If her mother had been alive she felt sure things would be different. But the problem was that the only family she had left was her father and half-brother Michael, and both of them had their minds solely on the money she could inherit if she fulfilled the terms of her grandfather’s will and got married before the date of this birthday. She was just a pawn as far as they were concerned. They wanted to move her one step forward towards marriage and then checkmate, all the money would come pouring in. Well, she wasn’t going to marry for money; she would go to hell before she went along with their plans and she had told them so quite implacably, not that they had paid her any attention.