The Greek's Penniless Cinderella

More memory pushed into her head. How she’d sobbed all over him in her rage and misery when he’d found her fleeing her father’s house the next day...how comforting he’d been. How kind and sympathetic. She heard his words again, as he explained to her just why he’d brought her to Athens, how shocked he’d been to find her living the way she’d had to in London.

‘How could I leave you there like that?’ he’d said.

She felt her throat tighten.

I thought him brusque and uncaring—but he isn’t! He isn’t at all.

There was a warmth in him she had never suspected. Just as she had never expected that kiss last evening.

Memory came full circle and it played again in her head, tantalising and beguiling...

But had it meant anything?

It was just a kiss in public. He probably kisses every woman he dines with. Especially a woman he wants to persuade to marry him.

And there it was—centre-stage in her head—the one thing she had to think about. Marrying Alexandros Lakaris for six months to their mutual financial benefit.

Emotions, thoughts, churned inside her. Could she really do it? Do what Xandros was urging her to do?

She lay there, staring up at the ceiling, thinking through the implications. For six months she would be Alexandros Lakaris’s wife—dressed up to the nines, enjoying the kind of luxury she had never dreamt would come her way in all her life! She would be living here in Greece, exploring the heritage she had never known.

Suddenly there was a bleakness in her eyes. She would not have a chance to get to know that heritage if she went back to her poverty-stricken life in London. How long would it take her to earn enough money to come back to Athens? Even when she eventually got a half-decent job once she had some qualifications?

Her expression shadowed. This time yesterday she had thought it would be through her father that she would experience her Greek heritage. Now it might be through Xandros.

And would that be unwelcome?

The answer was there as soon as she asked the question. Of course not! How could it be?

She knew now that he was far kinder than she’d originally thought him, and angered on her behalf by her father’s callousness. That must surely warm her towards him. Plus, she knew simply from the time she’d spent with him so far that he was easy to be with, interesting to talk to, good-humoured and well informed—without being in the least patronising about her lack of knowledge in things he took for granted thanks to his privileged background.

And then, of course, there was the most obvious, inescapable fact of all about how it would be if she accepted the extraordinary proposal he’d made to her.

The fact that a single glance from those incredible, dark, gold-flecked, long-lashed eyes of his could make her pulse race in ways she had never known... The fact that she just wanted to gaze and gaze at his absolute male perfection...drink in everything about him...

And how could she not be smitten with her limited experience? It had always been difficult, even impossible, looking after her poor, frail mother as she had, to have any kind of social life...any kind of romance... How could anyone compare with Xandros?

From the very first she had acknowledged his searing impact on

her. How could it be otherwise? He was the stuff of dreams, of fantasies... But could she—would she—make them real?

And would he?

If she were really to go ahead and marry him, then what would he expect? Or want...? What would she want?

Even as she formed the questions the answers were there, in the quickening of her blood as she replayed, yet again, the soft, sensuous touch of his mouth on hers. It had engendered within her an ache, a yearning for something more... Oh, so much more!

The phone beside her bed started to ring, interrupting her hectic thoughts. She picked it up. It was Xandros.

‘Hi,’ he said.

His voice was warm and friendly. And good to hear.

‘Have you had breakfast yet? If not, how about brunch by the hotel pool? In half an hour?’

* * *

‘So...’ Xandros eyed her carefully as they sat at a table in the poolside bistro. ‘Do you think you’ve reached a decision yet?’