by Kelly Hunter
Alexei bore a lot of the blame. He’d been gullible, falling for his stepfather’s charm, believing the man genuinely cared. He’d persuaded his mother to let the guy into their lives. Too late they discovered he’d only cultivated Alexei to get to his mother and her dead husband’s insurance payment.
No one could accuse Alexei of gullibility now.
That was what made it so remarkable that, despite his caution, he’d come to believe in Carter. It wasn’t just his way with numbers. His almost uncanny knack for identifying problems and possible solutions. It was his reticence, his scrupulous separation of business and personal life. He’d been the perfect executive.
Until his double-dealing came to light.
Alexei felt that sucker punch of betrayal. Worse this time because he should have known better. He was no innocent kid.
‘Keep me informed. Have the investigator check in daily.’
‘Yes, sir. Of course, sir.’
Alexei ended the call and scraped a hand through his hair, telling himself he’d grown soft. He should have acted sooner. Now he had to play catch-up.
He swung round to pace, ignoring the turquoise water and white sand beyond the window. He didn’t want to be in the Caribbean, no matter how restful his private retreat. He wanted to be wherever Carter was. The man’s depredations had been deep. Not enough to destabilise Alexei’s business but enough to send a ripple of disquiet through anyone savvy enough to discover Alexei had been duped.
Despite his policy of employing the best, most innovative people in the industry, Alexei Katsaros was his company as far as the market was concerned. He’d worked hard to establish one of the world’s leading software companies and build a reputation as a canny entrepreneur. His nose for success was only rivalled by his company’s groundbreaking IT solutions. News of his fallibility would crack that image and damage his company’s position.
Damn Carter. Where was he hiding?
Alexei slammed to a halt as he heard a vehicle through the open window.
At last. The ace up his sleeve.
Alexei breathed deep, easing cramped lungs, assuring himself that now, finally, he had the upper hand.
He crossed to the window and watched as the four-wheel drive pulled up. The driver’s door opened but before Henri could get out the front passenger door swung open and someone alighted.
Alexei’s brow twitched into a frown. That couldn’t be her. He waited for the rear door to open but it stayed steadfastly shut. Henri walked ponderously to the rear of the vehicle and pulled out a single suitcase of candy pink.
That was all. One suitcase and one passenger, though not the passenger he expected.
Alexei’s frown became a scowl. The call from Paris had assured him that she’d been collected from her apartment and deposited on his jet. Yet surely this wasn’t Carter’s daughter. He’d expected a fashion tragic with mountains of luggage.
His gaze rested on the svelte figure of a woman who stood, hands on her hips and head back, surveying his home. Far from being addicted to high-end fashion as he’d been led to believe, she wasn’t dressed in designer casuals for a tropical island holiday, but for...what? A yoga class? An artist’s garret?
Understanding took root. That was it.
Carter, when he’d raised the preposterous idea of a match between Alexei and his daughter, had waxed voluble about the girl he’d never mentioned in years of employment. He’d wittered on about her beauty and charm, her sweet disposition and eagerness to please. And her aspirations to be an artist in between shopping. She lived in Paris, playing at an artistic career, no doubt funded by the money Carter had embezzled from Alexei.
Pain radiated from Alexei’s jaw down his neck to his tight shoulders.
He yanked his thoughts from Carter’s crimes to the man’s daughter.
She took her pretensions seriously. Or perhaps the outfit was for his benefit, though surely it wasn’t designed to please a man. Flat black shoes, black leggings and an oversized black T-shirt that gaped over one shoulder.
Definitely not Alexei’s style. He preferred a woman who dressed like a woman.
Yet even as he dismissed Carissa Carter as not his type, his gaze lingered on the length of shapely legs silhouetted in black. Long legs, the sort of legs he’d enjoy wrapped around his waist during sex.
His gaze flicked higher, skimming her slight figure. He supposed, in the right gear, she’d be a perfect clothes horse, but personally he preferred a woman whose curves were more abundant.
Then the tilt of her head altered and he found himself face-to-face with her.
She was too far away for him to make out her features properly. Just good bone structure and dark hair pulled ruthlessly back into a bun. He had the impression of a wide, mobile mouth, but he wasn’t paying attention. His thoughts were on the sudden throb pulsing through his belly.
It couldn’t be attraction. Not for the daughter of a criminal. A woman whose lifestyle had probably fed her father’s depredations. He had no proof Carissa Carter knew of her father’s crimes, but she’d benefited. Maybe she’d been in on the scheme, eager to fund her easy life in Paris. Alexei couldn’t trust her. He’d play the part of eager suitor, pretending he was in the market for a wife.
As if he needed a third party to find him a woman!
He stared back at her, expecting her to duck her head and pretend not to see him.
Instead she stood motionless, watching as if he were under the microscope. It was a curious feeling. Alexei was used to people inclining their heads in agreement or deference. Except women, who tended to stare.
Carissa’s bold regard was something altogether different. It sent heat skittering down his spine, drawing every sense to hyperalert.
Finally, after she’d looked her fill, she turned to Henri. Alexei caught a flash of white teeth as she smiled but it was the coltish grace of her movements that held his attention. There was a fluidity to her supple body that reminded him of a Russian ballet dancer with whom he’d once shared a fiery affair. Alexei recalled not only the dancer’s grace but her athleticism and body awareness that had taken sexual pleasure to a new level.
He watched Carissa Carter saunter towards his house. Shoulders back, head up, yet she didn’t march. Instead that loose-limbed stroll was a symphony of sensual femininity.
For his benefit?
Of course.
His guest might play at being the bohemian artist, but if she was her father’s daughter, she’d have her eye on the main game, getting Alexei’s money.
For the first time since he’d learned of Carter’s betrayal, Alexei smiled.
He didn’t want the woman here, except as bait to draw her father. The fact she’d accepted his summons told him she’d sell herself into marriage with a man she didn’t even know. Though she knew the size of his bank balance. That regularly featured in rich lists around the world.
It could be amusing watching her try to seduce him.
Copyright © 2019 by Annie West
ISBN-13: 9781488044267
Untouched Queen by Royal Command
First North American publication 2019
Copyright © 2019 by Kelly Hunter
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitious
ly, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com