The Greek Tycoon's Bride

‘Oh, I know, Evangelos and Dimitra are lovely but—’

Jill stopped abruptly, shaking her head as though she didn’t know how to express her misgivings, and Sophy caught one of her sister’s hands. ‘Don’t worry.’ She squeezed Jill’s hand very slightly. ‘It’s just dinner and he knows the score. I’ve made it abundantly clear I’m not looking for romance. He’s not my type.’

‘Andreas doesn’t fit into a type,’ Jill murmured ruefully.

The two women stared at each other for a moment, but there was no time for further confidences as the next instant a deep, dark voice from somewhere inside the house proclaimed the subject of their conversation had arrived early and Sophy’s heart jumped.

She resisted the impulse to jump to her feet, rising slowly as she said goodbye and walking calmly through the open doors into the dining room, whereupon she made her way into the hall where Andreas was standing talking to Evangelos about a business matter, from what she could determine, before he looked up and saw her.

Her heart was thudding fit to burst but she looked cool and contained to the big dark man watching her so intently, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the gleaming silk of her hair and the classically casual simplicity of the sleeveless, fitted dress and matching peep-toe court shoes.

Evangelos made his goodbyes and exited via where Sophy had come from, presumably to see Jill and his grandson, leaving the two of them standing in a pool of sunlight in the hall.

‘I missed you yesterday,’ Andreas murmured softly, lifting a hand and tracing the outline of her small jaw with one finger.

He was wearing a beautifully tailored summer suit in pale grey, his white shirt and grey tie of the same expensive silk, and looked every bit the powerful wealthy tycoon.

Sophy blinked, the reality of him a hundred times more disturbing than all her thoughts over the last twenty-four hours. ‘You barely know me,’ she said as steadily as her racing heart would allow, ‘so how could you possibly miss me?’

‘Time’s relative,’ he replied, pinning her with his lethal dark gaze. ‘How else can you explain the fact that you can know some people all your life and their impact on you barely touches the surface, whereas others…’ He smiled slowly. ‘Others become important within minutes.’

She didn’t know how to answer that and so she said nothing, and after a moment or two he slanted a look at her under half-closed lids as he said, ‘All ready? Goodbyes said?’

He made it sound as if she was leaving for good, and to bring things back into line with how she saw the evening progressing, Sophy said quietly but firmly, ‘I can’t be late again, Andreas. It isn’t fair on the rest of the household.’

He looked hard at her and then glanced down at her feet. ‘Where are they?’ he asked in tones of great surprise.

‘What?’ She followed his gaze to her feet.

‘The glass slippers. Isn’t that what Cinderella wore?’ he asked blandly, his eyes glinting his amusement. ‘But don’t worry, Cinders. You will go to the ball.’

‘Very funny.’ But she couldn’t help laughing.

He took her hand, grinning at her as he said, ‘Come on, woman, I haven’t got time to bandy words with you. I’m hungry.’

Once out o

n the driveway Sophy was surprised to see a low, lean sports car crouching in front of them. ‘Where’s Paul?’ she asked quickly. Three was safer than two by a long chalk.

‘I don’t use Paul all the time. I drove myself to the airport yesterday and I only got back an hour or two ago, so…’ He waved his hand at the sleek silver beast in front of them. ‘I’m quite a good driver,’ he assured her modestly. ‘Don’t worry.’

She didn’t doubt it, but the car was a sex machine with two low front seats and a powerful long bonnet and little else. It was not how she had envisaged the evening beginning.

Sophy gritted her teeth and allowed him to help her into the passenger seat, whereupon she had the uncomfortable feeling she was at eye level with the road. The inside was all leather, with a dashboard that looked like it had come out of a Bond film, and when Andreas slid in beside her she realised he was close. Very close. She swallowed hard and forced herself not to fidget.

The engine growled into life and the beast leapt down the driveway. ‘Where…where are we going?’ she managed as they exited through the gates, her stomach feeling as though it had been left behind on the drive. ‘Is it far?’ She hoped not.

‘Surprise.’ It was cool and laconic and she instantly bristled.

‘I don’t like surprises.’

‘Force yourself,’ he said pleasantly.

She gave up at that point. It was quite enough to try and keep body and soul together in this monster of a machine, especially with Andreas sitting so close she couldn’t have put a pin between them, and his firm strong hands gripping the leather steering wheel on the perimeter of her vision as she stared goggle-eyed out of the massive windscreen.

Andreas drove like he lived, fast and ruthlessly, and more than once Sophy found herself praying that if—if—they reached their destination in one piece by some miracle, she would insist on a taxi home. Formula One was all very well but not her scene!

It was some ten minutes before she realised she had relaxed and was actually enjoying the ride, and as she cast a sidelong glance at Andreas she saw the hard firm mouth twitch slightly. ‘Okay?’ he murmured mockingly, his expression making it quite clear he had been aware of her nervousness and moreover had enjoyed it. ‘The first time is not always the best.’