The Greek's Virgin Bride

Then her heart hardened again. And hadn't Nikos Vassilis stood in front of Yiorgos Coustakis and negotiated a price to get hold of Coustakis Industries? A price that included mar­riage to a woman he'd never set eyes on? What kind of man did that?

No, she need feel no shame, no compunction. The man who had kissed her last night deserved no more regard than did her grandfather!

For one long, last moment she held her grandfather's eyes, refusing to back down. It was too important to even think of giving in. At last, after what seemed like an eternity of chal­lenge, he suddenly snarled, 'On your wedding morning—and not till then! Now, get out!'

CHAPTER SIX

Nikos sat in his boardroom, lounging back in his leather chair at the head of the table, listening to his directors droning on about the impact of the merger with Coustakis Industries. He wasn't listening. Wasn't paying the slightest attention. His heart was stormy.

What the hell kind of woman had he agreed to marry? A raging hell-cat! A spoilt brat of a pampered princess! An ill-mannered, ill-tempered, badly behaved harpy who threw tan­trums and hysterics at the drop of a hat! A true Coustakis!

His jaw tightened. The last thing on earth he needed was a wife who took after Yiorgos Coustakis!

A splinter of grudging admiration stabbed him. The girl hadn't flinched from confronting Old Man Coustakis. She'd just stormed in there and laid in to him!

A smile almost curved his mouth at the recollection. Theos, but it had been a sight to see. Someone giving as good as they got from that vicious brute whose ugly reputation made most people walk on tiptoes around him, from house servants to business associates. Even he trod carefully around the old bar­racuda! At least until Coustakis Industries was his to run.

The smile turned to a frown. For all that, however, it was not behaviour to condone. Certainly not in the woman who would be Mrs Nikos Vassilis. It was unthinkable that his wife should behave like that—for whatever reason!

The frown deepened—but from a different cause this time. Had the girl truly not known of her grandfather's marriage plans for her? It was typical of Yiorgos Coustakis not to bother himself with trivial details such as telling his granddaughter what husband he had chosen for her. In which case, Nikos knew he had to acknowledge, the girl had a right to object to having been kept in the dark about such an important matter. True, her reaction had been wildly over the top, but in the first immediate shock of the news it was understandable that she should be affronted at her grandfather's typically high-handed behaviour in keeping her ignorant of her future.

An image flashed in his mind. Yiorgos Coustakis slashing his hand down across Andrea's cheek. Nikos straightened sud­denly in his chair. Anger clenched at him. Theos, but the old man was a brute! Who cared if he was from a generation that thought nothing of beating children? Who cared if his grand­daughter had provoked him by yelling like a harridan in front of the man he had chosen for her husband? No man ever hit a woman. Ever.

Revulsion filled him. Whilst he would never dream of raising his fist to a man of Yiorgos's age, the memory of him hitting his granddaughter burned.

I've got to get her out of there!

A surge of emotion swept through him—not anger with that brute of an old man. Something he had never felt about any woman before. A fierce, urgent burst of protect:veness.

Abruptly he lifted a hand, cutting off whatever his sales di­rector was saying.

'Gentlemen, my apologies, but I must leave you. Please con­tinue with the meeting.'

Ten minutes later he was in his Ferrari and nosing through the impossibly jammed streets of Athens. Heading out of town.

Andrea sat out on the terrace overlooking the ornate gardens that spread like an embroidered skirt around her grandfather's opulent villa. Her heart was heavy—but resolved. The final scene with her grandfather replayed itself over and over again hi her head. Was she insane, even to contemplate going along with what he wanted? This wasn't just some kind of trivial business contract she had agreed to—this was marriagel

The enormity of what she committed herself to overwhelmed her, making it seem almost unreal. So much had happened so quickly! Less than two days ago she had been at home, in her own drab but familiar world. Now she was sitting on a sun­drenched terrace beneath a Mediterranean sun—about to marry a complete stranger!

Panic rose in her throat and she fought it down.

It's not a real marriagel It's just a wedding ceremony. That's all. The day after the wedding I'll he on a plane to London! My 'husband' will be glad to see the back of me!

And I'll have half a million pounds waiting for me in the bank!

She and Kim could be in Spain, house-hunting, in a month!

The warm sun poured down on her, bathing her legs stretched out in front of her. They had been aching since last night—wearing high heels was never a good idea—and the strain and tension of the past day and a half was telling. Gently she stretched and eased them, rubbing her hands lightly along her thighs in a careful massage.

The warmth did them good, she knew. Living in Spain would help. She would get work there, enough to keep Kim and herself, so that Kim could take life easy at last. Spain was full of Brits now; she was bound to be able to get some kind of job, even if she didn't speak Spanish yet.

I'll invite Tony and Linda for a holiday she thought happily. They'd been so good to her; it would be great to give some­thing back. She'd had to phone Tony from her room, just a short while ago, telling him she was staying after all. It had taken quite a lot to convince him she really meant it, that one of her grandfather's bully-boys hadn't been twisting her arm to say so!

Cold filled her. Her grandfather was unspeakable—her every worst fear about him was deserved! He really would have thought it perfectly acceptable to keep her a prisoner here and force her into marrying that man!

That man—

Memory leapt in her throat. It was here, on this terrace, that she had first laid eyes on him, not twenty-four hours ago. Here, beneath the beguiling stars, that he had slid her into his arms and kissed her...