The Greek's Bought Wife. Helen Bianchin
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He was about to give it another try when the security chain was removed, the lock disengaged, the door opened sufficiently for him to glimpse a female clutching a large bath-towel around her slender form.
Nic registered damp auburn curls piled high on her head, pale features, and a pair of brilliant emerald-green eyes.
Eyes that hardened somewhat as they ascertained his identity.
‘Go away.’
The door slammed shut, and he stifled a lurid oath.
‘Do that again,’ he warned with dangerous silkiness, ‘and I’ll disregard common courtesy.’
He heard the security chain engage, then the door opened a fraction. ‘I could take that as a threat and call the police.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘Don’t tempt me.’
‘Aren’t you going to ask me in?’
‘Not if I can help it.’
‘We can have a conversation now,’ Nic offered with deceptive mildness, ‘in relative privacy. Or,’ he paused slightly, ‘I’ll arrive at your place of business tomorrow and hold it there.’
There was a perceptible silence, then Nic heard the locks disengage, and the door swung open.
She was more petite than he recalled, but then she was barefoot. The bath-towel had been discarded in favour of a towelling robe.
She looked tired, and there were dark smudges beneath her eyes. The result of grief, lack of sleep…or both?
‘Another Leandros emissary?’ Tina took in the tall, broad male frame clothed in superb tailoring, forced herself to meet and hold those dark, almost black eyes…and felt all her protective self-defence instincts rise to the fore.
‘We have been introduced.’
The voice held a faint American-inflected drawl, and she suppressed a shiver of unease. Nic and Vasili Leandros might share the same father, but as men they were as chalk to cheese.
Whereas Vasili had borne an air of insouciant youth, Nic Leandros possessed an indefinable quality that meshed ruthlessness and power…and combined it with a sexual chemistry no woman could successfully ignore.
Raging hormones had to be the reason why she felt vaguely off balance. It couldn’t be the man unsettling her.
‘You want to conduct this conversation on the doorstep?’
Oh, Lord. She’d just emerged from the shower. ‘You’ll have to wait while I get dressed.’ And she shut the door in his face.
It took only minutes to step into underwear, jeans, add bra and tee shirt. She didn’t bother with her hair. As for make-up…forget it.
He was there when she pulled back the front door, his tall frame seeming even more threatening than before.
Men of Nic Leandros’ ilk weren’t used to having doors shut in their faces, she perceived with a certain wry humour as she silently indicated he could enter.
‘Thank you.’ His voice was dry, and held a degree of impatience as he followed her into the suite.
Tina turned to face him, aware of the need to take control.
‘Let’s get this over with, shall we?’
One eyebrow rose, and his gaze remained steady. ‘Dispense with polite conversation?’
She lifted a hand and smoothed back a wayward fall of hair, only to silently damn the visible indication her nerves were twisting every which way but loose.
‘Why pretend civility when we have opposing agendas?’ Tina queried, and saw those dark eyes harden fractionally.
‘Can you blame Stacey and my father for wanting to share a part of their grandson or granddaughter’s life?’ he queried quietly.
‘Do you think I don’t know where this is leading?’
‘Enlighten me.’
‘Let’s see.’ She tilted her head and began listing probable possibilities. ‘What comes next? Any minute soon you’ll present several attractive reasons why I should agree to your parents’ desire to assign the Leandros name to Vasili’s child.’ She paused and drew in a deep breath.
Nic Leandros dominated the room, his presence a compelling entity that disturbed her more than she was prepared to admit.
‘If I agree, the heat will be on for it to be raised and educated according to Leandros tradition.’
‘And that’s a problem…because?’
He didn’t get it. ‘I’ll lose control.’
‘Any decisions made will, of course, be reached by mutual agreement.’
‘Oh, please.’ Tina raked his features with evident cynicism. ‘Give me a break.’ Her gaze speared his. ‘How long will it take your parents to lodge an unfit parent complaint after the birth?’ She closed her eyes, then opened them. ‘Deny that’s the master plan.’
A muscle tensed at the edge of his jaw. ‘I doubt anything of the sort has entered Stacey’s mind.’
‘But it will, eventually.’
Her fierceness and her fragility were a contradiction in terms, something he found intriguing.
‘When I return to work and put the babe into a day-care nursery?’ She felt as if she were on a runaway train. ‘Employ sitters on the rare occasion I feel the need to socialise?’
‘It’s my parents’ intention to provide handsomely for the child’s welfare.’ He waited a beat. ‘The ball is in your court. Name your terms.’
‘And they’ll be met?’ She lifted a hand and ran it wearily over her hair. ‘Thanks, but no, thanks.’
He’d tabled each stumbling block and had a strategy for every one of them. It was just a matter of time…‘Perhaps you’d care to elaborate why?’
‘I don’t see how a one-night stand qualifies the right for the child to assume its deceased father’s name.’ If she’d hoped to shock, she gained no visible reaction from his expression. ‘Especially when I had no intention of making it my own.’
Nic’s eyes became hooded. ‘Vasili meant nothing to you?’
Tina took her time with the question. ‘We played the boyfriend/girlfriend game.’ She paused fractionally. ‘It was…convenient. For each of us.’ She had no obligation to relay why.
‘The age difference didn’t bother you?’
Her chin tilted a little and