He found himself smiling at her. Giving her the reassurance she was silently seeking.
‘It will be all right,’ he said. ‘I promise you.’
The flicker was in her eyes again. ‘It’s just that…’
‘It’s just that I’m a complete stranger and I picked you up off the street.’
The blunt way he said it made her cheeks colour. But he had done it deliberately, spelling out her fears, her apprehension and unease.
‘Over dinner, I trust we will get to know each other more. But nothing will happen that you do not want to happen. You have my word on this.’
His eyes held hers, and then, out of the solemnity, a smile slanted suddenly across his face. Carrie felt that dazzle glitter inside her, as it had done when she’d first seen that incredible smile in the car.
Slowly she nodded, swallowing. She wasn’t being stupid—she wasn’t! She was simply being—
Carried away. Swept away. But why not? Why not? What was the harm in it? And how could she walk away now? She didn’t have the strength of mind to do so. And she didn’t have the will. Why should she? He wasn’t some seedy, creepy bloke—he was… gorgeous. Fantastic. Devastating. Irresistible. And someone like that would never, never appear twice in her life.
The elevator doors opened, and she stepped out. The champagne still seemed to be fizzing in her veins.
Julia James lives in England with her family. Mills & Boon® novels were Julia’s first ‘grown-up’ books, read as a teenager—‘Alongside Georgette Heyer and Daphne du Maurier’—and she’s been reading them ever since.
Julia adores the English countryside—‘And the Celtic countryside!’—in all its seasons, and is fascinated by all things historical, from castles to cottages. She also has a special love for the Mediterranean—‘The most perfect landscape after England!’—and she considers both are ideal settings for romance stories! Since becoming a romance writer she has, she says, had the great good fortune to start discovering the Caribbean as well, and is happy to report that those magical, beautiful islands are also ideal settings for romance stories!
‘One of the best things about writing romance is that it gives you a great excuse to take holidays in fabulous places!’ says Julia. ‘All in the name of research, of course!’
Her first stab at novel-writing was Regency Romances—‘But, alas, no one wanted to publish them!’ she says. She put her writing aside until her family commitments were clear, and then renewed her love-affair with contemporary romances. ‘My writing partner and I made a pact not to give up until we were published—and we both succeeded! Natasha Oakley writes for Mills & Boon® Romance, and we faithfully read each other’s works-in-progress and give each other a lot of free advice and encouragement!’
In between writing Julia enjoys walking, gardening, needlework, and baking ‘extremely gooey chocolate cakes’—and trying to stay fit!
GREEK TYCOON, WAITRESS WIFE
BY
JULIA JAMES
CHAPTER ONE
ALEXEIS NICOLAIDES glanced around him with displeasure. It had been a mistake to come here. A mistake to indulge Marissa. He was only in London for a twenty-four-hour stopover, and when he’d got out of the day-long meeting in the City and returned to his hotel suite he’d simply wanted to find her waiting for him. Then, once the bare niceties had been dispensed with, and they had made polite and completely empty enquiries about each other’s well-being, he would have done what his fundamental interest in Marissa was: taken her to bed. Instead, however, he had ended up in this overcrowded art gallery, bored rigid and surrounded by yapping idiots—among whom Marissa was the key offender. At this moment she was giving full throat to her knowledge of the art market and the financial worth of the artist on display. Alexeis couldn’t have cared less about either.
And with every passing moment he was caring less and less about Marissa, and about spending any more time with her. Not here—and not even in bed.
Even as he stood there, an expression of growing irritation in his eyes, he made his decision. Marissa was going to have to go. Up till now she hadn’t been much of a problem—no more than any woman was, for they all, invariably, wanted to outstay their shelf-life with him. But three months on Marissa, savvy as well as beddable, was evidently starting to think she could start making demands. Like insisting he take her to this opening. Doubtless she thought that an absence of a fortnight would have whetted his appetite for her so much that he would be complaisant to her whims.
His dark eyes narrowed.
Mistake. His was not a complaisant nature. The Nicolaides wealth had always meant that he could call the shots when it came to women. He chose the ones he wanted and then they did what he wanted—or they were out. No matter how beautiful, how desirable, how highly they rated themselves.
Marissa Harcourt rated herself very highly. She was ferociously chic, with head-turning looks, a well-connected background, an Oxbridge degree and a fashionable and highly paid career in the art world. Clearly she considered these attributes sufficient not just to attach herself to a man like himself, but to hold him.
Did she even, Alexeis found himself speculating, consider them sufficient to hold him permanently?
Her predecessor had thought so. Adrianna Garsoni, whose exotic looks, soaring soprano voice and talent for self-promotion ensured her status as a diva at La Scala, had clearly believed that marrying Alexeis would mean the rich Nicolaides coffers could be put to work furthering her career. The moment Adrianna had shown her hand, making it clear she considered that marriage was on the agenda, Alexeis had disposed of her. Her reaction had been volatile in the extreme, but irrelevant to him. In comparison with Adrianna’s tempestuous personality, Alexeis had welcomed Marissa’s cool chic, as well as enjoying her highly sensual nature in bed.
Now, it seemed, much to his irritation, she would have to go too. He had quite enough going on in his life as it was. Alexeis’s thoughts shifted closer to home, and mouth tightened automatically. His father was currently marrying his fifth wife, and far too busy to bother himself with the intricacies and pressure of running a global business. As for his half-brother, Yannis, he was the offspring of his father’s second marriage, and far too busy pursuing his twin pleasures in life—fast sports and faster women. Alexeis’s mouth tightened even more.
However, he knew that the last thing he’d welcome was his father trying to interfere in how he was running the group, or Yannis trying to muscle in on it. The latter, at least, was one thing upon which Alexeis saw eye to eye with his mother. Berenice Nicolaides was vehement in her determination that the son of the woman who had usurped her should not get his hands on what she considered her own son’s rightful inheritance—nothing less than total and permanent control of the Nicolaides Group. Alexeis’s reason for wanting Yannis out of the picture was less vindictive—he merely considered his brother feckless, hedonistic, and far too much of a risk to be involved in running so large and complex a company.
Alexeis
