At His Revenge: Sold to the Enemy / Bartering Her Innocence / Innocent of His Claim. Trish Morey
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‘I’m trying to help you.’
‘You’re the one who taught me to be cautious.’ Her gaze lifted to his shoulders, travelled over the bronzed skin at the base of his throat and finally met those dark eyes that could seduce a woman with a single glance. ‘I don’t want your help. I never want to see you again.’
Below deck in the owner’s suite, Stefan poured himself a large drink, but when he lifted it to his mouth his hand was shaking so badly the liquid sloshed over the side.
Cursing softly, he put the glass down and closed his eyes, but that didn’t help because his mind was tortured by images. Images of her stepping back onto the island not knowing whether her father was waiting. Images of his anger spilling over. Images of that beautiful hair streaked with blood.
Gripping the glass, he drank, feeling the fire burn his stomach.
While he’d been on the island he hadn’t dared let himself feel, but he was feeling now and the emotion hit him so hard he couldn’t breathe. He’d never let it out before and because he’d never let it out he had no idea how to haul it back inside again.
Business rivalry. She thought this was about business?
He had no idea how much time had passed but eventually he heard a voice behind him.
‘Boss?’
It was Takis.
Not willing to reveal even a sliver of weakness, Stefan kept his back to him. ‘Problems?’
There was a brief pause. ‘Possibly. The girl and her mother have gone.’
‘Gone?’ He was surprised how normal he sounded. Surprised by the strength of his voice given the turmoil inside him. ‘Gone where?’
‘Left the boat, boss.’
‘How can they have left the boat? Did they swim?’
‘Er—the boat docked twenty minutes ago, boss.’
Docked?
Stefan turned his head, saw the port, and realised with a stab of shock just how long he’d been down here. While he’d been trying to get himself under control they’d arrived in Athens.
‘How can they have gone?’
‘No one was looking, boss.’
Stefan rolled his shoulders to ease the tension. ‘You are telling me that two women, at least one of whom was in a weakened state, managed to leave my boat unobserved by any of my so-called security team within two minutes of arriving at Athens?’
‘It would seem so. I take all the blame.’ Takis sounded sheepish. ‘Fire me. Truth is, I wasn’t expecting them to leave. Selene is a very determined young woman. I underestimated her.’
‘You’re not the only one guilty of that.’ Stefan stared blindly out of the window, knowing that the blame was his.
Instead of listening, instead of proving he was someone she could trust, he’d been angry—and she had no way of knowing that the root of that anger had nothing to do with her.
No wonder she’d walked.
She’d had enough of male anger to last her a lifetime.
Takis cleared his throat. ‘I’m worried he might go after her, so I’ve already got a team on it and I’ve briefed a few people. Called in a few favours. We’ll find her.’
Stefan knew that the Ziakas name had influence. He had links with everyone from the government to the Athens police. But he also knew better than to underestimate his enemy, and in this case his enemy was formidable and motivated.
Stavros Antaxos wanted his wife and daughter back and he had a web of contacts every bit as impressive as Stefan’s.
Takis was watching him. ‘Have you any idea where she might go? Any clues?’
Where could she go? How did she plan to support herself?
She’d left the island with nothing. Not even the battered old bag holding her candles and soap and the money he’d given her.
Tension rushed into his shoulders. She had no one to defend her. No way of earning money.
He imagined some unscrupulous man handing her a drink. Imagined him being on the receiving end of that sweet smile and quirky sense of humour. Imagined her naked with another man—
Sweat broke out on the back of his neck and he uttered just two words.
‘Find her.’
THREE weeks later Selene was balancing plates in a small taverna tucked away in the labyrinth of backstreets near the famous Acropolis when she heard a commotion behind her.
‘Hey, Lena, take a look at him,’ breathed Mariana, the waitress who had persuaded the owner to give Selene a job when she’d appeared out of nowhere only hours after she’d slipped away from the luxurious confines of Stefan’s yacht. ‘That man is smoking hot. He should come fitted with air-conditioning.’
Terrified of losing concentration and dropping the plates, Selene focused on her task until the meals were safely delivered to the table. ‘Two moussaka, one sofrito and one kleftiko.’ She was so nervous of doing something wrong and losing her job she didn’t even look to see who was attracting everyone’s attention and anyway, she’d had enough of ‘smoking hot’ men. ‘Can I fetch you anything else?’
‘Just that indecently sexy Greek man who has just taken the table behind you, honey,’ the woman murmured, her eyes fixed in the same direction as Mariana’s. ‘Do they all look like that around here? If so, I’m moving here. No question.’
‘That would be great for the economy.’ Selene added fresh cutlery to the table and removed empty glasses. On her first day she’d dropped a tray. It had only happened once. She’d learned to balance, concentrate and not overload. ‘How are you enjoying your holiday? Did you make it to Delphi yesterday?’ This was the part of the job she loved most of all—talking and getting to know people, especially when they returned to the taverna again and again. She’d used her mother’s maiden name and no one knew who she was. The anonymity was blissful, but nowhere near as blissful as being able to live her life the way she wanted to live it. ‘I’m going there on my next day off.’
‘We followed your advice and went early in the morning. It was perfect. It’s always good to have local knowledge.’
Knowing that her ‘local knowledge’ had been rapidly acquired over a three-week period, Selene smiled. ‘I’m glad you had a good time.’
‘We did. And talking of good times—’ the woman peeped over the top of her sunglasses ‘—that guy makes me want to forget I’m married. If he’s