The Greek Tycoon's Defiant Bride

Clad in tartan pyjamas, and curled up with a research paper on carbon dating and a mug of hot cocoa clutched in her hand, Maribel was appalled when Imogen simply walked into her bedroom with Leonidas in tow.

‘This is my cousin, Maribel, my best friend in the whole world,’ Imogen declared. ‘She’s a student like you.’

Lounging in the doorway, Leonidas gave Maribel a lazy smile of amusement and the shock of his intense attraction hit Maribel like an electric charge. She didn’t know where to look or how to handle it, since the even bigger shock was that she had the capacity to feel that way! Up until that point, Maribel’s dating forays had been unenthusiastic and always disappointing. One guy had got friendly with her only to steal her work, and another had tried to get her to do his assignments for him. Then there were the many who expected sex on the first date and the others who drank themselves into a stupor. None of them had given her goose-bumps or, indeed, an instant of excitement—until Leonidas appeared on the horizon.

And Maribel being Maribel, she was sick with guilt at being attracted to her cousin’s man. That very first night, she shut out that awareness and refused to allow herself to take it out again. In the month that followed, she barely saw Imogen, who stayed in Leonidas’ properties in Oxford, London and abroad. And then, just as suddenly, the brief affair was over, just one more fling in Pallis terms, but it had meant a great deal more to Imogen, who had adored the high life.

‘Of course, if you want the right to live in the Pallis world, you’ve got to share Leonidas and not be possessive.’ Imogen tried to act as if she didn’t mind watching Leonidas with her replacement, a young film starlet. ‘With the choice he’s got, you can’t expect him to be satisfied with one woman.’

‘Just walk away,’ Maribel urged ruefully. ‘He’s a cold, arrogant bastard. Don’t do this to yourself.’

‘Are you crazy?’ Imogen demanded in shrill disbelief. ‘I’ll settle for whatever I can get from him. Maybe in a few weeks, when he’s fed up with the movie star, he’ll turn back to me again. I’m somebody when I’m with him and I’m not giving that up!’

And true to her resolve, Imogen’s ability to make Leonidas laugh when he was bored ensured that she retained him as a friend. Perhaps only Maribel cringed when she appreciated that Imogen was quite willing to ridicule herself if it amused Leonidas. Then there was a fire at Leonidas’ Oxford apartment and Imogen invited him to use her house while she was working abroad.

Maribel’s animosity went into override because Leonidas proved to be the house guest from hell. Without a word of apology or prior warning, he took over and moved in his personal staff, including a cook and a valet, not to mention his bodyguards. His security requirements squeezed her out of her comfortable bedroom into an attic room on the second floor. Visitors came and went day and night, while phones rang constantly and scantily clad and often drunken and squabbling women lounged about every room.

After ten days of absolute misery, Maribel lost her temper. Up until that point, she wasn’t even sure Leonidas had realised that she was still residing in the house. On the morning of the eleventh day, she confronted him on the landing with a giggling brunette still tucked under one arm.

‘May I have a word with you in private?’

A sleek ebony brow elevated, because even at the age of twenty-four Leonidas was a master of the art of pure insolence. ‘Why?’

‘This is my home as well as Imogen’s, and, while I appreciate that in her eyes you can do no wrong, I find you and your lifestyle utterly obnoxious.’

‘Get lost,’ Leonidas told the brunette with brutal cool.

Studying him in disgust, Maribel shook her head. ‘Possibly you are accustomed to living in the equivalent of a brothel where anything goes, but I am not. Tell your women to keep their clothes on. Send them home when they become drunk and offensive. Try to stop them screaming and playing loud music in the middle of the night.’

‘You know what you need?’ Dark golden eyes hot with a volatile mix of anger and amusement, Leonidas anchored his hands to her hips and hauled her to him, as if she were no more than a doll. ‘A proper man in your bed.’

Maribel slapped him so hard her hand went numb, and he reeled back from her in total shock. ‘Don’t you ever speak to me like that again and don’t touch me either!’

‘Are you always like this?’ Leonidas demanded in raw incredulity.

‘No, Leonidas. I’m only like this with you. You bring out the very best in me,’ Maribel told him furiously. ‘I’m trying to study for my exams…okay? Under this roof, you are not allowed to act like an arrogant, selfish, ill-mannered yob!’