Christmas Baby For The Greek. Jennie Lucas
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Stavros lifted his sensual lips into a smile that showed the white glint of his teeth as he turned to Holly. “Is that true?”
He was looking at her so strangely. She stammered, “A-anyone would feel the same.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” Oliver said with a snort, leaning back in the seat. “Minos men are selfish to the bone. We do what we like, and everyone else be damned.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” his wife said.
He winked. “It’s part of our charm, darling.”
But Nicole didn’t seem terribly charmed. With a flare of her nostrils, she turned to Holly. “I can’t just leave you in New York. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. You’d be so alone.”
She stiffened. “I have friends…”
“But not family,” she said impatiently. “And it’s not very likely you ever will, is it?”
“Will what?”
“Have a husband or children of your own. I mean, come on.” She gave a good-natured snort. “You’ve never even had a serious boyfriend. Do you really want to die alone?”
Holly stared at her sister in the back of the limo.
Nicole was right. And tomorrow, for the first time in her life, Holly would spend Christmas Day alone.
Christmas, and the rest of her life.
Her eyes met Stavros’s in the back of the limo. His handsome features looked as hard and cold as a marble statue, his black eyes icy as a midwinter’s night. Then his expression suddenly changed.
“I’m afraid Miss Marlowe can’t possibly go to Hong Kong,” he said. “Because I need another executive assistant. So I’m giving her a promotion.”
“What?” gasped Oliver.
“What?” gasped Nicole.
Holly looked at him sharply, blinking back tears. “What?”
His expression gentled. “Will you come work directly for me, Miss Marlowe? It will mean long hours, but a sizable raise. I’ll double your salary.”
“But—” Swallowing, Holly whispered, “Why me?”
“Because you’re the best.” His jaw, dark with five-o’clock shadow, tightened. “And because I can.”
Stavros hadn’t meant to get involved. Oliver was right. This was none of his business.
He didn’t care about his cousin. Cousin or not, the man was a useless bastard. Stavros regretted the day he’d hired him. Oliver had done a poor job as VP of Marketing. He’d been within a day of being fired when he’d taken the “surprise offer” from Hong Kong. Stavros was glad to see him go. He suspected Oliver might be surprised when his new employers actually expected him to work for his salary.
Stavros didn’t much care for his cousin’s new bride, either. In spite of his own turmoil last night, he’d actually tried to warn Nicole about Oliver’s cheating ways at the rehearsal dinner. But the blonde had just cut him off. So she knew what she was getting into; she just didn’t care.
He didn’t give a damn about either of them.
But Holly Marlowe—she was different.
Stavros suspected it was only through the hardworking secretary’s efforts that Oliver had managed to stay afloat these last three years. Holly worked long hours at the office then probably nights and weekends at home, doing Oliver’s job for him. Everyone at the New York office loved kind, dependable Miss Marlowe, from the janitors to the COO. Tender-hearted, noble, self-sacrificing… Holly Marlowe was the most respected person in the New York office, Stavros included.
But she was totally oppressed by these two selfish people, who, instead of thanking her for all she’d done, seemed intent on taking her indentured servitude with them to Hong Kong.
Two days ago, Stavros might have shrugged it off. People had the right to make their own choices, even stupid ones.
But not after the news he’d received yesterday. Now, for the first time he was thinking about what his own legacy would be after he was gone. And it wasn’t a pretty picture.
“You can’t have Holly! I need her!” Oliver exploded. At Stavros’s fierce glare, his cousin glanced uneasily at his wife. “We need her.”
“You don’t want some stupid promotion, do you, Holly?” Nicole wailed.
But Holly’s face was shining as she looked at Stavros. “Do—do you mean it?”
“I never say anything I don’t mean.” As they drove north, past bundled-up tourists and sparkling lights and brightly decorated department-store windows, his gaze unwillingly traced over her pretty face and incredible figure. Until he’d stood across from her in the old stone church by candlelight, he’d never realized how truly beautiful Holly Marlowe was.
The truth was, he hadn’t wanted to notice. Beautiful women were a dime a dozen in his world, while truly competent, highly driven secretaries were few. And Holly had hidden her beauty, making herself nearly invisible at the office, yanking her fiery red hair in a matronly bun, never wearing makeup, working quietly behind the scenes in loose-cut beige skirt suits and sensible shoes.
Was this what she’d looked like all the time? Right under his nose?
Her bright, wide-set green eyes looked up at him, luminous beneath dramatic black lashes. Her skin was pale except for a smattering of freckles over her nose. Her lips were red and delectable as she nibbled them with white, even teeth. Her thick, curly red-gold hair spilled over her shoulders. And that tight red dress—
That dress—
Stavros obviously wasn’t dead yet, because it set his pulse racing.
The bodice was low-cut, clinging to full, delicious breasts he’d never imagined existed beneath those baggy beige suits. As she moved, the knit fabric clung to her curves. He’d gotten a look at her deliciously full backside as they’d left the church, too.
All things he would have to ignore once she worked for him. Deliberately, he looked away. He didn’t seduce women who worked for him. Why would he, when beautiful women were so plentiful in his world, and truly spectacular employees more precious than diamonds?
Sex was an amusement, nothing more. But for years, his company had been his life.
And the reason Holly chose to dress so plainly in the office was obviously that she wanted to be valued for her accomplishments and hard work, not her appearance. In that, they were the same. From the time he was a child, Stavros had wanted to do important things. He’d wanted to change the world.
But that wasn’t