she was. The way she had responded to his kiss with a sweet ardency that had almost made him believe she was inexperienced must have been an act, he told himself.
He strode into the salon where pre-dinner cocktails were being served and stopped dead in his tracks. The room was full of guests—various relatives and, curiously, considering the dinner party was supposed to be a family gathering, several high-ranking representatives from the oil industry were present as well as members of Karelis Corp’s board of directors. There was a low hum of chatter, the clink of glasses on silver trays carried by the serving staff. But Andreas only saw Isla and his blood thundered in his ears.
This was a different Isla to the decorous housekeeper he had met on previous occasions at his father’s house in Kensington. Tonight she was a lady in red—a sultry siren in clingy scarlet velvet, with sparkling jewels around her throat that drew his attention to the pale upper slopes of her breasts above the plunging neckline of her dress. Her blonde hair was swept up into a chignon to expose the delicate line of her neck. The scarlet gloss on her lips emphasised their fullness.
Lowering his gaze, he saw that the hem of her dress came to her mid-thigh and her long slim legs were enhanced by high-heeled strappy shoes. Isla Stanford was every hot-blooded male’s fantasy and Andreas was burning up. She looked over at him, and as their eyes locked he saw a pink stain spread across her face. The convulsive movement of her throat when she swallowed told him that she was as aware as he was of the electrical current that arced between them. He stared at her mouth, so lush and red and infinitely inviting, and felt the urgent stirring of his desire swell beneath his trousers.
For a moment Andreas forgot that Isla was attending the party as Stelios’s guest. Something primitively possessive swept through him and he strode across the room, driven to stake his claim on the woman who had been in his thoughts too often in the past months. He and Isla had unfinished business.
But just then his father finished talking to another guest and slipped his arm around Isla’s waist. Andreas’s eyes narrowed as he halted in front of the mismatched couple.
‘Finally, you are here.’ Stelios sounded irritable. ‘I expected you to arrive several hours ago. We were about to start dinner without you.’
‘Good evening, Papa,’ Andreas greeted his father drily. ‘Miss Stanford.’ He kept his expression bland as he glanced at Isla and back to Stelios. ‘I apologise if I am late. I said I would arrive some time in the afternoon but I did not specify an exact time and I was unaware that you were giving a dinner party.’
Stelios sniffed. ‘Well, you are here now. I hope you will offer your congratulations when I tell you that Isla has agreed to be my fiancée.’
Even though Andreas had been pre-warned by his sister of his father’s engagement, the sight of a diamond the size of a rock on Isla’s finger filled him with fury. It had to be a joke, surely? This grey-haired, wrinkled old man and an exquisite English rose who must be some forty years younger than her future husband.
He jerked his gaze to Isla’s face and noted the faint quiver of her lower lip, the flash of sexual awareness in her wide grey eyes that she quickly concealed beneath the sweep of her lashes. She was his, goddammit. Yet it was his ageing father’s arm around her slender waist and Stelios’s obscenely gaudy ring glittering on her finger.
‘Well, Andreas?’ his father prompted. ‘I can see you are surprised by my news, but I’m sure you will agree that I am a lucky man to have such a beautiful fiancée.’
At a rough guess, the diamond solitaire was worth a six-figure sum. Andreas gave a sardonic smile. ‘Congratulations,’ he drawled, directing his mocking gaze at Isla. ‘You appear to have hit the jackpot.’
THE INSOLENCE OF the man! Isla’s temper had simmered throughout the interminable five-course dinner as Andreas’s loaded comment echoed in her ears. Thankfully, he had sat at the far end of the table from where she and Stelios were seated, but she’d felt his brilliant blue eyes watching her, and his speculative gaze added to her tension in a situation that was already uncomfortable.
From halfway down the table, she’d been aware of the poisonous looks that Stelios’s daughter directed at her. At the end of the dinner, Stelios had stood up and asked the guests to raise their glasses in a toast to his new fiancée. It was taking the pretence too far and Isla’s doubts about what she was doing on Louloudi had intensified.
Giving a soft sigh, she pushed open the French windows and stepped outside onto the terrace. It was dark now, and the stunning view across the gardens to the sea beyond was hidden. Although summer was coming to an end, the night was sultry and the air was thick with the scents of rosemary and lavender which grew in big terracotta pots.
Isla’s hand strayed to the ruby and diamond necklace around her throat and once again she checked that the clasp was securely fastened.
‘I’m terrified I might lose it,’ she’d whispered to Stelios earlier in the day while they had posed for photographers in the boardroom of Karelis Corp in Athens. ‘The necklace must be worth a fortune. I’d feel happier wearing something less ostentatious.’
Stelios had dismissed her concerns and taken hold of her hand, lifting it up to brush his lips across the enormous diamond ring that he’d slipped onto her finger just before they had faced the cameras. ‘Try to relax and smile,’ he murmured. ‘The eyes of the world will be on you when the news of our betrothal is announced in the media tomorrow. I am a billionaire and people will expect my fiancée to wear fabulous jewellery and dress in haute couture.’
After the press conference recording they had boarded a helicopter for the short flight to Stelios’s island. When they were seated in the helicopter’s luxurious cabin he gave her a wry smile. ‘I’m sure I don’t need to remind you of the importance of making our engagement appear convincing in front of the press. It is vital at this time of financial turbulence that Karelis Corp’s competitors believe I am a strong leader of the company. Just as importantly, I want to hide my illness from my family until after my daughter’s twenty-first birthday.’
‘I know you are trying to protect Nefeli. But I urge you to tell her and Andreas the truth. Your children won’t be pleased about our engagement. They already dislike me.’
Stelios’s daughter had barely hidden her hostility towards Isla whenever she had visited her father at his home in Kensington. And Andreas had nothing but disdain for her. Isla was quite certain of that, even though she had only met him a handful of times. Oh, on the surface he was polite enough. Quite charming, in fact. But she wasn’t fooled by his laid-back air and the careless smile that curved his lips but did not match the coldly cynical expression in his eyes.
She didn’t know why Andreas had disapproved of her when she’d been employed as his father’s housekeeper, or why he’d kissed her the last time he had come to London. The kiss had been unexpected, which was why she had responded to him, she assured herself.
‘You are mistaken. I am sure my children find you delightful.’ Stelios had sought to reassure her. ‘I need you to be the focus of attention. Everyone will be fascinated by my beautiful fiancée and they won’t notice that I have lost weight. I will explain about my illness when the time is right to do so. But I want Nefeli to enjoy her twenty-first birthday party, spared from the knowledge that I will not be around to celebrate future birthdays with her.’
Isla couldn’t argue
