The Renegade Billionaire

“Thanks, Andrea.”

She turned away just as a black Mercedes sedan suddenly appeared out of nowhere and drove right up, blocking her path. A tall, dark-haired male with a powerful build alighted from the front seat with an aura of authority that couldn’t be denied. The man, maybe in his early thirties, was so ruggedly Greek and gorgeous, her mind went blank for a minute.

Before she averted her eyes to keep from staring at him, her gaze took in the lime polo shirt and light khaki gabardine pants. His clothes only emphasized his hard-muscled body. He wore a gold watch, but no wedding band and looked as expensively turned out as the gleaming black car he drove. Andrea had no idea such a man existed. Where had he come from?

“Kyrie Konstantinos!”

The lieutenant’s exclamation, plus his show of deference, answered her question. This stranger with black hair swept back from a visible widow’s peak had to be one of the men whose family owned and ran the internationally renowned corporation.

He shook the lieutenant’s hand. “After the plant manager told me the news, I got here as soon as I could. Tell me what happened.” The two men discussed the situation and talked about keeping this incident from the press while the search was ongoing.

Between impossibly black lashes, his dark gray gaze swerved to Andrea. For a heart-stopping moment, she was subjected to a thorough, faintly accusing male scrutiny of her face and body that made her go hot and cold at the same time. To have such a visceral reaction to a man she’d never met stunned her.

He broke off talking to the lieutenant and moved toward her. Switching to English, he said, “I take it you’re the American teacher who was in charge of the runaway teen? How was it possible he disappeared on your watch?”

He’d fired the question with only a trace of accent. That didn’t surprise her given his affluent background and education. What did surprise her was the fact that he’d correctly assumed she was American. Something about her had given her away. Furthermore, it seemed he’d decided that she was the teacher in question, the one whom he’d already tried, judged and convicted as the guilty party without knowing all the facts.

Andrea expected the lieutenant to step in at this point and explain, but his attention had been diverted by one of the officers. It was up to her to clarify the situation before he made any more erroneous assumptions.

“I believe introductions are in order first,” she answered in Greek. “My name is Andrea Linford. I’m a representative of PanHellenic Tours in Thessaloniki. My boss sent me out to be of help to the tour guide, Georgios Debakis, and offer any assistance before I return to the office with my report.”

She held out her hand, which he was forced to shake. His firm grip tightened a little before he released her, but she felt the imprint of his hand travel through her whole body and stay there. There it went again. That shocking sensation from just being in his presence. To fill the disturbing silence since he hadn’t spoken yet, she said, “Which Konstantinos are you in the hierarchy? Leon, Stavros, Alexios or Charis?”

More silence ensued before he muttered, “Stavros.” She’d studied the facts of the company on the way here and remembered that Stavros was managing director of the Konstantinos Corporation. “You’ve done your homework, Kyria Linford.”

“Despinis,” she corrected him. She wasn’t married.

“My apology for misreading the situation.”

His apology had been difficult for him to verbalize, but she would cut him some slack. “You were half-right. For all my sins, I am American. But I’m not poor Mrs. Shapiro, who no doubt you assumed didn’t have the maturity to handle a group of teenage students away from their parents. If I’m wrong in that assumption, then my apology.”

His intelligent eyes flickered with some unnamed emotion. “You weren’t wrong,” he admitted in his deep voice.

“Thank you for your honesty. I think we can both agree this is an ugly situation all the way around and no one is at his or her best. My boss is beside himself. He has to make the call to the teen’s family and explain that their son is missing. Hopefully they’ll supply him with a reason why he might have run off midtour.”

“Let’s hope he’s found within the hour.”

She nodded her blond head. “We all want that. Unfortunately, his disappearance happened on your company property and will put the Konstantinos name in the spotlight, bringing you adverse publicity. As for poor Mrs. Shapiro and Georgios, they’ll be in agony until Darren’s found.”

He raked a bronzed hand through his gleaming black hair. “I asked the lieutenant to keep this quiet for as long as possible.”

“I heard you. Let’s hope one of the officers doesn’t leak it for a while. That boy has got to be found!”

Her voice shook because she was remembering the long ten-day wait before her fiancé’s dead body had been spotted on the mountain ledge, dashing her dreams for their marriage. The thought of Darren’s parents having to wait that long for any news made her shudder, a reaction Kyrie Konstantinos observed while he studied her.

She tore her eyes from his in time to see the tour bus drive out of the parking area to the road. Her heart was heavy for the teacher and Georgios, who had to keep doing their jobs while they were dying inside. Andrea felt anxious over the situation too. Where was Darren?

“With only a three-and-a-half-hour head start, he can’t get too far.” The incredibly handsome Greek read her mind aloud.

Andrea folded her arms to her waist. “Did you know he has his backpack with him? I wonder if he’d been planning his escape long before today in order to survive while he was on the run.”

“If so, he picked the right spot. It’s true these mountains will give him cover and the forest is dense, but I’ve lived here all my life and know every inch of ground. If the search and rescue teams don’t find him, I will.”

Stavros Konstantinos instilled such confidence in her, Andrea had no doubts he could do anything. She was alarmed by her thoughts about him—considering he was a stranger, she shouldn’t have been thinking about him at all. “You’ll need his description and a picture. I can email the information in his file to your phone right now.”

He pulled out his cell and gave her his number. Within a minute, he’d received it. She watched him study the dark blond boy’s passport photo. “He

’s nice looking with that Marine cut. It says he’s five-eleven with brown eyes. He’ll be easy enough to recognize.”