She Can't Say No to the Greek Tycoon

What had he expected? he thought angrily. She was hardly going to admit to the fact that she was considering a marriage of convenience to get her hands on her inheritance. But she could say something!

‘But you do have a family?’ he pressed. ‘Didn’t you tell me something earlier about having a brother who dotes on you?’

She took another few sips of champagne and felt the alcohol hitting her system. ‘He’s my half-brother. My mother died when I was young and my father married again.’

He already knew all of that, but at least she was giving him a piece of personal information at last rather than monosyllables.

‘And what about your father—are you close?’

She swept a hand through the length of her hair. ‘He’s my father—what do you think?’

He frowned. ‘Well, fathers usually adore their daughters, don’t they? So I presume you’re Daddy’s girl. Spoilt rotten and his adoring number one fan.’

‘Absolutely.’ She took refuge behind the illusion and smiled at him.

The candlelight flickered and danced as a warm breeze suddenly disturbed it, but not before he had witnessed the intense glitter in the beauty of her eyes.

She was obviously very defensive about her father; maybe people had openly criticized him in the past and she had built up a natural antipathy to anyone delving too deep.

It stood to reason. If she didn’t adore her father and her brother she wouldn’t go along with their crooked schemes. He didn’t know why he kept feeling these momentary pangs that he was wrong about her. He’d had her checked out thoroughly by his private investigator. He knew what she was like.

‘What about you?’ She switched the subject hurriedly before he could ask anything else. ‘Have you got any family?’

‘Yes, like you, family is very important to me.’ His eyes held hers steadily. ‘My father died some years ago, but my mother and extended family all live in the same small village in Crete where I grew up.’

The sudden insight made her look at him with renewed interest. Because he was so wealthy and powerful, she had assumed that he would be too busy making money to have much time for family affinity.

‘And what about children; did you have a family with your ex-wife?’

‘For a woman who only wanted to talk about business you’ve suddenly changed your tune.’

The mocking tone made her withdraw instantly. ‘I was just curious.’ She shrugged.

‘Well, in answer to your question—no, we had no children. Probably just as well, seeing as the marriage only lasted six months.’

‘I’m sorry.’

The gentleness of her tone made his lips twist derisively. He didn’t want a McKenzie’s sympathy. ‘Don’t be. Sylvia was no great loss.’

There was an edge of rawness about the statement that made Cat frown. Had his ex-wife managed to cut through that haughty exterior? Had she dented his pride and hurt him? For a second she wanted to believe that because it made her understand why he seemed so remote sometimes. She knew what it was like to feel rejected—she’d felt like an outsider in her own home for nearly all of her childhood. She knew what it was like to have your feelings trampled into dust, how wary it made you of people and how much it hurt, and it made her want to reach out to him.

Then, as she met the harsh, almost ruthless expression in his eyes, she quickly blocked out the thought. Reaching out emotionally to Nicholas Zentenas would be as stupid as reaching out to a man-eating tiger.

This was the problem when you slept with someone, she told herself furiously. It was all too easy to start trying to attach real feelings to the situation, to start reinventing your lover’s persona, distort reality.

Well, she wasn’t going to be that stupid!

He watched as she put her cutlery down. She hadn’t eaten much. ‘Shall we move on to the main course?’ he suggested. ‘I think there’s—’

‘Actually, I couldn’t eat another thing,’ she cut across him quickly. ‘I’d prefer it if you would just arrange for me to head back to the airport.’

He sat back in his chair and regarded her steadily. ‘I take it you don’t mind travelling back dressed as you are?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ She glared at him. ‘I thought we could phone one of the boutiques downstairs. I’ll have to buy something new.’

He glanced at his gold wristwatch. ‘Cat, it’s late. The shops are closed.’

She felt a rising sense of panic. ‘Yes, but you could get them opened if you wanted.’