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.’
CHAPTER TWO
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 with Stelios’s reasoning or his desire to protect his daughter when she understood the devastation of losing a parent. It had taken her a long time to come to terms with her mum’s death in a horrific accident. Tragically, Stelios had arrived in England in search of Marion six months too late.
The muted sounds of the party drifted across the terrace and Isla was glad to be outside, away from the spotlight for a few minutes. The ruby necklace felt heavy around her neck and she wished she hadn’t allowed Stelios to persuade her to wear it. But he had insisted that the necklace and matching drop earrings were perfect accessories for the red dress he’d suggested she should wear to the press conference and dinner party. The tight-fitting dress clung to her body and the scooped neckline revealed more of her cleavage than Isla was comfortable with. She did not normally wear attention-grabbing clothes. But the point of her overtly sexy outfit and the reason for the announcement of their engagement was to draw attention away from Stelios’s ill-health.
The sound of footsteps on the terrace behind her caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end, a sixth sense warning her of imminent danger. She froze when a mocking voice drawled, ‘Ah, the blushing bride-to-be! You have been a clever girl, Isla.’
Her heart gave an annoying flip, as it always did when Stelios’s son was in the vicinity, and it took every ounce of her willpower to turn towards him when her instincts urged her to flee. Somehow she managed to say calmly, ‘Whatever do you mean, Andreas?’
The simple act of uttering his name evoked a wild heat inside her, and she prayed he would think her cheeks were flushed because t
he temperature in Greece was much warmer than the chilly, grey England she had left two days ago. Isla hated that Andreas Karelis made her feel like a gauche teenager but she suspected he had the same effect on most women.
Handsome did not come near to describing his sculpted features, with those razor-edge cheekbones, square jaw and outrageously sensual mouth that looked as if it had been shaped entirely for the purpose of kissing. His hair was the same shade of dark brown as the rich Greek coffee she had served him when he had visited his father at the house in Kensington.
It was not just his height—she estimated that he was three or four inches over six foot—or his attractive features, dominated by his startling blue eyes, that set him apart from other men. Andreas possessed a smouldering sensuality that Isla could not ignore, however much she wished she could.
Although he had retired from motorbike racing he was still regarded as a sporting legend by an army of adoring groupies. His reputation as a playboy was reinforced by stories of his love-life played out in the pages of tabloid newspapers and celebrity gossip magazines. Not that Isla took the slightest interest in the scandalous headlines about Andreas, but she knew they upset his father and she had resolved to protect Stelios from stress and worry as much as she possibly could for the time he had left.
It was inexplicable the way her pulse quickened and her breasts rose and fell jerkily when she was anywhere near Andreas. Worse was the realisation that he knew the effect he had on her. He smiled, baring his teeth and reminding her of a wolf that had cornered its prey. Isla considered walking as quickly as her skyscraper stiletto heels would permit, back inside the villa where Stelios was chatting with some of his dinner guests. But before she could move Andreas stepped towards her and she found herself edging up against the stone balustrade.
In the moonlight he seemed even bigger and distinctly menacing as his muscular, whipcord body loomed over her. There was nothing she could do but brazen it out and she forced herself to tilt her head and meet his hard stare.
‘I have a feeling that you were not paying me a compliment when you called me clever,’ she remarked, pleased that she sounded composed when she felt anything but.
His eyes narrowed, but not before she’d glimpsed a flash of surprise at her challenging tone. ‘There are words to describe women like you and none of them are complimentary.’
Isla blinked, taken aback by the ferocity in Andreas’s low voice. The contemptuous curl of his lips caused a stab of hurt beneath her breastbone. Her treacherous heart hammered when he lifted his hand and ran his forefinger over the rubies at her throat.
‘Very pretty,’ he said, still in that harsh tone that seemed to come from deep within him. But although he touched the blood-red stones strung alternately between sparkling diamonds, his eyes were on her face and his expression made her shiver and burn simultaneously. She held her breath when he moved his hand up to one of her ears and flicked his finger against the huge ruby surrounded by diamonds dangling from her earlobe. ‘Was this jewellery, and the shiny bauble on your finger, your price for agreeing to marry my father?’
‘I don’t have a price.’
He gave a disbelieving snort. ‘Tell me, Isla, why would a beautiful young woman choose to become engaged to an elderly billionaire if not for financial gain?’
Her temper flared at his implication that she was a fortune hunter. ‘Do you think I’m a gold-digger?’
‘Well done. I said you were clever,’ he mocked.
The condemnation in Andreas’s eyes was unjust. For a moment Isla was tempted to defend herself by explaining the truth about her relationship with his father. But she’d given her word to Stelios that she would keep his secret. A secret which was going to have huge implications for his family and possibly for his oil refining business. As yet Andreas was unaware that Karelis Corp was threatened by a hostile takeover bid from another company. Soon he would learn that her engagement to his father was intended to make Stelios appear strong and in control of the company, and Andreas might even thank her.
‘Your father and I have an understanding...’
He swore, his voice low but no less savage. ‘Does Stelios know about us?’
‘Us?’ Isla’s brows lifted and she injected cool disdain into her tone. ‘There has never been us.’
‘We shared a scorching kiss at my father’s house in London. Theos! The chemistry between us was explosive,’ Andreas reminded her.
Heat spread across Isla’s face. She needed no reminding of her uncharacteristically wanton behaviour. She had declined Stelios’s invitation to join him and Andreas when she’d served coffee in the drawing room. Making the excuse that she was doing some baking, she had carefully not met Andreas’s speculative gaze. But later he had returned the tea tray to the kitchen.
‘Thanks. You can leave the cups in the sink,’ she told him in a dismissive voice, hoping he would take the hint and return to his father. Her heart-rate quickened when he lounged against the kitchen counter.
‘So you weren’t lying,’ he murmured, watching her take a tray of madeleines out of the oven. ‘I assumed you’d said you were busy in the kitchen because you wanted to avoid me.’
‘I never tell lies,’ she said crisply, focusing her attention on lifting the delicate little cakes onto a cooling rack rather than look at Andreas. But she was fiercely aware of him, casually dressed in jeans that hugged his lean hips and a black T-shirt moulded to his muscular torso. His rampant masculinity disturbed her and the sensual musk of his aftershave in the warm kitchen assailed her senses.
‘I’m glad to hear it. Perhaps you can explain why my father has fallen asleep in his armchair in the middle of the day. I know he is not getting any younger, but he has always had the energy of a man half his age.’
Weeks of gruelling chemotherapy had drained Stelios’s strength, but Isla couldn’t reveal to Andreas that his father was undergoing treatment for cancer. So much for her boast that she did not tell lies, she thought ruefully. ‘Your father has been working hard recently,’ she murmured. ‘Why on earth would I want to avoid you?’
She had asked the question to distract attention away from Stelios’s health—and her ploy worked. Andreas moved closer and there was a wicked gleam in his eyes as he slid his hand beneath her chin and tilted her face up to his.
‘You tell me, omorfia mou. Do you think I haven’t noticed the hungry looks you send me every time I pay my father a visit?’
‘I don’t...’ she began, her face flaming with embarrassment that Andreas had guessed her fascination with him. It was so unlike her. She was always guarded with men, determined to protect her heart against the pain of rejection that she’d felt so deeply in the past. Andreas’s sexy laugh sent a tremor through her and, fool that she was, Isla ignored her common sense which told her to step away from him.
‘Yes, you do,’ he drawled. ‘What’s more, you want me to kiss you.’
Her heart leapt into her throat. ‘I do not...’ she whispered, but her denial died away as he lowered his head until his lips were centimetres above hers and his warm breath grazed her skin.
‘Liar.’
He had kissed her then. Although kiss was not an apt description of the way he had claimed her mouth with an arrogant possession that should have appalled her. Instead she had capitulated to his mastery, unable to resist his fiery passion and the bold sweep of his tongue between her lips.
The kiss was unlike anything Isla had ever experienced before. She had been kissed by other men—a few, although she could count on one hand the number of dates she’d been on that had got as far as a fumbling kiss at the end of the evening, she thought ruefully. When Andreas kissed her, she discovered a deeply sensual side to her nature that shocked her. But, before she had a chance to explore how he made her feel, he snatched his mouth from hers and stepped away from her so abruptly that she grabbed hold of the kitchen counter to support her legs
that had turned to jelly. Andreas’s hard-boned face gave no clue to his thoughts and he walked out of the kitchen without a word.
Isla felt humiliated by his rejection, which brought back painful memories of when she’d been a teenager and had introduced herself to her father. With hindsight, perhaps she had been naïve to hope that David Stanford would be delighted to meet the daughter he’d abandoned when she was a few months old. But his insistence that there was no place for her in his life had been a brutal end to her hopes of having a relationship with her father. Isla had vowed then never to allow herself to be hurt by any man ever again.
She was jolted back to the present when she felt the pressure of Andreas’s hard thigh against hers. She hadn’t been aware that he’d moved, but now she found herself trapped against the balustrade. Her breath hitched in her throat when he ran his finger lightly down her hot cheek. She realised that she had been staring at his sensual mouth while she’d relived the kiss they had shared in London. The gleam in his eyes told her he had read her thoughts.
‘Tell me about your romance with my father,’ he demanded in a cynical voice. ‘It seems very sudden. A few weeks ago you were employed as his housekeeper and you were quite happy to kiss me.’
‘The kiss was a mistake that I immediately regretted.’ She flushed at his look of arrogant disbelief. ‘It’s true. You’re a playboy who uses women for your pleasure and discards them like trash when you are bored of them. You asked why I accepted your father’s proposal and I’ll tell you. Stelios is a gentleman. He is kind and sweet...’
Isla’s voice thickened with emotion. Stelios was the only person, apart from her mother, who had ever cared about her, but soon he would be gone from this world, just as her mother had gone, and she would be alone again. The one tiny comfort was that Stelios and Marion would finally be together.
Proof 0f Their Forbidden Night (HQR Presents) Page 2