by Jennie Lucas
“I couldn’t wait, Yuri.” Nikos jerked his head toward Victor, still stretched out on the floor. “There he is.”
The man called Yuri smiled. “You said you were calling in a favor. I wish I had to pay more favors like this. We’ve wanted Sinistyn a long time, but he was untouchable. Now, with your testimony and influence, he won’t see the sun again for a long time.” The policeman looked with concern at Nikos’s wrist. “My friend, you are hurt.”
“It’s nothing—”
“It’s his wrist. I think it’s broken. We need a doctor right away,” Anna said, then looked up anxiously at the face of the man she loved. “Please, Nikos. I need you to be well.”
“All right,” he muttered. “Get the doctor.”
Turning away from the policeman, he sank into a nearby chair and pulled her into his lap. “Anna, before the doctor starts filling me with drugs, I have to tell you something. I should have told you this a long time ago, but I was too stupid to see it and too stubborn to admit it—even to myself. I really do love you.”
“Nikos, I love—”
“Please let me finish, while I can still get this out.” He took a deep breath. “You saved me. From a life that was empty. I was stupid to prevent you from working, or doing anything else that brings you joy. If it makes you happy, I want you to work. As my secretary, as vice-president, as any damn thing you want.”
Tears filled her eyes even as she gave him a mischievous smile. “I think I’d make a good CEO.”
“Cocky.” He returned her grin. “You always were the only one who could stand up to me. I need that in my life. Someone to keep me in my place.”
As she looked into his handsome face she barely heard the noises of the swarming police, or Victor’s whining complaints as they took him away.
“Your place is with me.” She cupped his jaw, rough with dark stubble, in her hands. “As long as we’re together, anyplace in the world is my home. But there’s something that I have to ask you. Something I’ve never said before to anyone.” He’d called her cocky, but what she wanted to ask him now terrified her. She took a deep breath. “Nikos, will you marry me?”
For his answer, his smile lit his face from within, his dark eyes shining at her with hope and love. “I thought you’d never ask.”
* * *
“I told you we should have gotten married at the drive-thru chapel in Vegas,” Anna whispered when she reached the end of the aisle.
“And miss all this? Never,” he whispered back with a wink.
As the priest began to speak the words that would bind them together for all time Nikos knew he should pay attention, but all he could do was look at his bride. Beneath the hot Greek sun, on the edge of a rocky cliff overlooking the Aegean Sea, they were surrounded by flowers and a small audience of people who loved them. It was a simple wedding, plain by some standards, but he knew in his heart it was what Anna wanted.
And, looking at her now, he knew he’d never be able to deny her anything. Her turquoise eyes, a mixture of sea and sky, smiled at him as he lifted her veil. She wore a white shift that made her look like a medieval maiden.
Her engagement ring, a four-carat diamond in an antique gold setting, sparkled from her finger. He’d given it to her two nights ago. She’d tried to refuse it until she’d realized that he’d found the original stone from her great-grandmother’s wedding ring. Now it was one of her greatest treasures.
The way she’d thanked him had made him forget all about the cast on his wrist. Remembering that night, and every night since they’d returned from Russia, still made his body feel hot from the inside out. He could hardly wait to give Anna her honeymoon present—Rostov Palace, which he’d bought from Sinistyn’s confiscated estates. Sinistyn didn’t need it anymore, as he’d be living out his days in a Russian prison.
Nikos glanced around him at family and friends and the sea and the bright blue sky. Justice. Another thing he’d thought existed only in fairy tales, along with love and happy endings.
He’d not only held his wedding in his parents’ hometown, but, at Anna’s urging, he’d invited his father’s family—Eudocia Dounas and her three daughters—to the wedding. To his surprise they’d all come, bringing their husbands and children. He now had a family. Siblings, nieces, nephews. He didn’t know them yet, but he would.
Near his family sat Anna’s mother who, in another wedding-day miracle, was not only on her best behavior, but had pinched his cheek and declared it was “about time” the two were married. Anna had spent last night talking to her sister, barring Nikos from her bedroom because it was “bad luck” for him to see her. Now, Natalie was bouncing Misha on her knee while she watched the wedding, smiling through her tears. And he could see his son’s two new top teeth in his smile as he watched his parents wed.
It was a day for families to join together.
All right, he’d admit it. It wasn’t just Anna who’d wanted this kind of wedding. He had wanted it as well. In some way he’d wanted this all his life.
Family.
Home.
Love.
As Anna said the words that made her his wife her voice was sweet and true. He barely remembered repeating the words himself, but he must have done so since before he knew it the priest was speaking in accented English, declaring them husband and wife, and he was kissing the bride. Over the sound of the crashing surf he heard their family and friends behind them burst into applause, and a noisy cheer from Cooper. But as he kissed her, holding her tightly in his arms, all he could feel was the pounding of his heart against hers.
She pulled back, caressing his face as she grinned up at him through tears. “See?” she whispered. “Wasn’t that better than having Elvis marry us?”
Hiding a grin, he looked down at her solemnly. “I’m yours to command now, Mrs. Stavrakis.”
“Mine to command?” She paused, pretending to consider her options, and then leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “In that case, my first order is that you take me to bed.”
“Leaving our guests to start the reception?”
She gave him a wicked smile. “They won’t miss us.”
“They won’t even notice,” he agreed with a grin. He picked her up in his arms and, to the delighted gasps of the crowd, he turned to carry her back to his villa.
“Ah, Anna. I can tell I’m going to have a hard life with you,” he observed with a sigh, and he kissed her with all his heart.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Playing the Royal Game by Carol Marinelli
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CHAPTER ONE
SHE was better off without the job, Allegra told herself.
No one should have to put up with that.
Except that walking in the rain along grey London streets, taking the underground to various employment agencies, the anger that her boss could make such a blatant a pass at her and then fire her for not succumbing started to be replaced with something that felt close to fear.
She needed that job.
Needed it.
Her savings had been obliterated by the bottomless pit that was her family’s excess spending. At times it felt as if her lowly publishing wage supported half the Jackson family. Yes, she was the boring reliable one, but they didn’t mind her dependability when their erratic ways found them in trouble. Just last week she had lent her stepmother, Chantell
e, close to five thousand pounds in cash for credit card debts that her father didn’t know about. It was laughable to think that she might now have to have her family support her.
It was a miserable day, with no sign that it was spring; instead it was cold and wet, and Allegra dug her hands deeper into her trench coat pockets, her fingers curling around a fifty-pound note she had pulled out of the ATM. If her boss refused to put her pay in tomorrow it was all she had before being completely broke.
No!
She’d been through worse than this, Allegra decided. As Bobby Jackson’s daughter she was all too used to the bailiffs but her father always managed to pick himself up; he never let it get him down. She was not going to sink, but hell, if she did, then she’d sink in style!
Pushing open a bar door, she walked in with her head held high, the heat hitting her as she entered, and Allegra slipped off her coat and hung it, her hair dripping wet and cold down her back. Normally she wouldn’t entertain entering some random bar, but still, at least it was warm and she could sit down and finally gather her thoughts.
There had been a confidence to her as she’d stalked out of her office with dignity. With her track record and her job history, a lot of the agencies had called over the years offering her freelance work.
It had been sobering indeed to find out that they were hiring no one, that the financial crisis and changes to the industry meant that there were no causal jobs waiting for her to step into.
None.
Well, a chance for a couple, but they added up to about three hours’ work per month.
Per month!
Allegra was about to head to the bar but, glancing around, saw that it was table service so she walked over to a small alcove and took a seat, the plush couch lined with velvet. Despite its rather dingy appearance from the street, inside it was actually very nice and the prices on the menu verified that as fact.
She looked up at the sound of laughter—a group of well-dressed women were sipping on cocktails and Allegra couldn’t help but envy their buoyant mood. As her eyes moved away from the jovial women they stilled for a fraction, because there, sitting at a table near them, lost in his own world, was possibly the most beautiful man ever to come into her line of vision. Dark suited, his thick brown hair was raked back to show an immaculate profile, high cheekbones and a very straight nose; his long legs were stretched out and crossed at the ankle. But despite his rather languorous position, as he stared into his glass there was a pensiveness to him, a furrow between his eyebrows that showed he was deep in thought. The furrow deepened as there was another outbreak of laughter from the women’s table, and just as he looked up, just as he might have caught her watching, Allegra was terribly grateful for the distraction of the waitress who approached.
‘What can I get you?’ Allegra was about to order a glass of house wine, or maybe just ask if they could do her a pot of tea and a sandwich, because she really ought to try a couple more job agencies, but hell, a girl could only take so much rejection in one day and she may well be living off tea and sandwiches for a long while yet!
‘A bottle of Bollinger please.’ It was an extravagant gesture for Allegra, an unusual one as well. She was extremely careful with her pay cheque, saving twenty percent to put towards her first mortgage before it even hit her account, determined never to be like her family—but where had that gotten her?
The waitress didn’t bat an eye; instead she asked how many glasses.
‘Just the one.’
She was given a little bowl of nuts too!
‘Celebrating?’ the waitress asked as she poured her drink.
‘Sort of,’ Allegra admitted, and then, left alone, she decided that she was. For months she had put up with her boss’s thinly veiled leers and skin-crawling comments. It was worth celebrating just to finally be past all that, so she raised her glass to the window, in the general direction of her old work place.
‘Cheers!’
As she turned she caught Mr. Gorgeous watching her—not staring, just idly curious—and she couldn’t blame him for that. After all, she was raising a glass to the window. She gave him a brief smile and then turned back to her thoughts, took out a pen and the notebook and list of contacts that she always carried and set about making copious lists, determined, determined, that by the end of the week she would be back in work.
Halfway down the bottle and she didn’t feel quite so brave. If anything, half a bottle of champagne on an empty stomach had her emotions bubbling and she was dangerously close to tears, especially when the waitress came over.
‘You didn’t sign the register when you came in,’ the waitress said, and even before she continued Allegra knew what was coming and inwardly flinched as realization dawned. ‘You are a member, aren’t you?’ She felt a blush spread on her cheeks. Of course it was a private club that she’d entered, not some bar she’d just wandered into, and just as she was about to apologise and fling down her fifty-pound note and flee, a voice that was as pleasing as its owner saved her the embarrassment.
‘Why are you hiding there?’ A deep warm voice had both Allegra and the waitress turn around and she found herself looking now into the eyes of the pensive stranger—very brown eyes that stayed steady as hers blinked in confusion. He turned and addressed the waitress. ‘Sorry, she’s my guest. I’ll sign her in in a moment.’ The waitress opened her mouth to say something—after all, Allegra had been sitting there alone for a good half an hour or so and he had made no effort to join his guest—but perhaps he was a favourite customer, or maybe it was just his impressive stance, because, without comment, the waitress left them to it.
‘Thanks,’ Allegra said as he took a seat in front of her. ‘But no thanks. I’ll just settle my bill….’ She went to go, but as he moved to stop her, his hand reaching across the table, she shot him a look that told him unwelcome contact would be a very foolish mistake on his part. Given the day she’d had, Allegra had enough pent-up energy to give this stranger a little piece of her mind.
‘As I said, thank you, but no thank you.’
‘At least finish your drink,’ said the stranger. ‘It would be a shame to waste it.’
It would be a crying shame actually.
Maybe she could take it with her, Allegra thought wildly, having visions of herself walking down the street, half-drunk bottle in hand, bemoaning her situation. She found herself smiling at the very thought—not smiling at him, of course, except he interpreted it as such, because he clicked slender fingers in the direction of the bar and summoned another glass. Allegra sat bristling as the waitress poured him a glass of her champagne.
‘I’m just trying to enjoy a quiet drink alone,’ she said pointedly.
‘Then sign in,’ he suggested.
‘Ha, ha!’
‘Or,’ he offered, ‘you can be my guest, which means you sit with me. I wouldn’t hear of it otherwise.’ She couldn’t place his accent. He spoke English terribly well; in fact, his voice was clipped and well schooled, unlike Allegra’s rather more London accent, but there was a slight ring to it, Spanish or Italian perhaps. She was determined not to stay long enough to find out.
‘Anyway,’ he carried on despite her lack of response, ‘you don’t look as if you are enjoying it. In fact, apart from the small salute to the window you seem as miserable as I am.’ She looked at him and saw that the impressive suit he was wearing wasn’t just dark, it was black, and so, too, the tie. Not just from the attire, but from the strain on his face, he had clearly come from a funeral. Now he was close, she could smell him—and he smelt nothing like the usual man in a bar. It wasn’t just the delicious hint of cologne that was unusual; he actually smelt of clean—there was no other way to describe it. His eyes were clear and bizarrely she felt herself relax just a little, for this was surely not a man who usually pressed attention, and it wasn’t as if she had anywhere else that she needed to be.
‘Are you usually so invasive?’
He thought about it for a moment. ‘No.�
� He took a sip of drink and seemed to think about it some more. ‘Never. I just saw you looking so fed up and then when the waitress came over I thought…’
‘That you’d cheer me up?’
‘No.’ He gave a small shrug. ‘I thought we could be miserable together. Don’t look, but there are a group of women…’ He gestured his head and as instructed she didn’t look, but she knew who he meant. She’d heard their flirting laughter, and had easily guessed it was aimed towards him. ‘One of them in particular seems determined to join me.’
‘I’d have thought you’d have no trouble at all fighting off unwelcome attention.’ Unlike me, she didn’t add, but then she wasn’t particularly used to men vying for her attention—well, not gorgeous ones anyway. But knowing how to deflect unwelcome attention was surely a prerequisite to him stepping out on the street, because wherever he went he surely turned heads.
‘Normally, I have no problem.’ He didn’t say it in arrogance, merely stated the fact. ‘Just today.’ She looked at his suit. ‘I was just trying to have a drink, to think, to have some silence, perhaps the same as you….’ And while she’d have chosen to have some peace, she’d settle for silence too.
‘Okay.’ She gave a begrudging smile. ‘I can manage silence.’
He must be someone, because all she had been given was a small bowl of nuts, but now that he’d joined her she was treated to lots of little bowls of goodies. She didn’t care if she looked greedy; the rumble in her stomach reminded Allegra that she hadn’t eaten since the slice of toast she’d had while dashing to the Underground some seven hours ago.
‘I’d better sign you in,’ he said. ‘I’m surprised you got to a table. They are normally very…’ He didn’t finish, but the insinuation that she didn’t belong had her blushing to her roots.
‘Particular!’ Allegra finished for him, and again she went to reach for her bag. She did not need his charity and certainly not his insults. Today really wasn’t proving to be the best.