The Mediterranean Tycoon

by Margaret Mayo

  The fact that Peta hadn’t had time to go and see her mother and father before leaving England had put her even deeper into their bad books. Of course, Peta hadn’t told them about the kidnap threats for fear of worrying them further, and so her mother had immediately drawn her own conclusions. ‘You won’t be happy with a man like that,’ she’d warned. ‘Money doesn’t bring happiness. It’ll be a five-minute wonder and then where will you be? Really, Peta, at your age you should have more sense.’

  Peta and Andreas tired before the boys did, stepping out of the pool and throwing themselves down on a couple of sun loungers. Here, the umbrellas hid them from the house; not that Peta had any intention of letting Andreas kiss her again. She must remember at all times that this was a job, that she wasn’t here to indulge in anything sexual; she was here to look after Nikos.

  The thought had her springing to her feet. If that was the case, why was she lying here at all? No wonder his mother had drawn erroneous conclusions. The signals they gave off told entirely the wrong story.

  It was Andreas’s fault. If he’d remained the difficult tyrant none of this would have happened; if he’d remained aloof, if he hadn’t insisted she call him Andreas. Now she was in danger of making a fool of herself.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  Peta turned reluctantly at the sound of his voice. He had pushed himself up on one elbow, a sharp frown etching his brow.

  ‘I shouldn’t be doing this,’ she told him shortly. ‘I’m forgetting my position. I’m going to shower and get changed.’ And before he could say anything else Peta hurried towards the house.

  Andreas was sorry to see Peta go. For the first time he had felt she was beginning to relax with him, really relax, and when he’d kissed her he could have sworn that she was enjoying it. He had wanted the kiss to go on and on, he had wanted more of her, everything, all! But knew he still had to tread carefully. And now it looked as though even that brief kiss had frightened her off again.

  He lay back and closed his eyes. He listened to the boys shouting and laughing, and then he heard the click of footsteps coming towards him. Peta? She had dressed already, was back into the nanny role he had created for her.

  Little had he known when he’d asked her to look after Nikos that he would fall under her spell. She was so very different from Maria, who had used her sex appeal to its full. It was what had enchanted him about her. He had loved it when she’d turned other men’s heads with her sultry looks and swaying hips, loved the fact that she’d wanted no one but him. He’d been devastated when she died.

  Peta appealed to him in an entirely different way. She had no artifices. What you saw was what you got. He had thought he would never love again, would never find anyone to capture his heart. He wasn’t even sure that Peta had done that. He wanted her physically, yes—she drove him crazy in that respect—but did he want more? Of that he wasn’t sure.

  ‘Andreas,’ said a voice in Greek, ‘I need to talk to you.’

  Damn, it was his mother. His train of thought vanished as he sat up. ‘Couldn’t it have waited?’

  ‘No, it couldn’t,’ she said with some asperity. ‘It’s about Peta James.’

  His eyes sharpened. He had picked up on the fact that his mother didn’t approve, and now she was here to voice her opinion. ‘What about her?’

  The older woman sat gingerly on the edge of the lounger Peta had vacated. ‘She’s far too familiar with you, for one thing.’

  Andreas allowed his brows to slide upwards. ‘Mother, you’re living in the wrong era. She might be Nikos’s nanny, but that’s no excuse for me to treat her like a servant.’

  ‘I saw you kissing her,’ she snapped. ‘She told me there was nothing between you. I knew she was lying.’

  ‘You’ve spoken to her about me?’ he barked, swift anger beginning to rise. Now he knew why Peta had looked worried, why she had suddenly run away. ‘You had no right.’

  ‘I have every right,’ she thrust back. ‘I have no desire to see a son of mine make a fool of himself over a girl who is entirely unsuitable.’

  ‘And you think that’s what I’m doing?’

  ‘Is it not?’

  ‘If you’d get to know Peta better then you’d know differently,’ he retorted. ‘She has integrity, intelligence, is an excellent mother, and what’s more is the first girl I’ve been interested in since Maria died.’

  ‘Are you saying that you no longer are in love with Maria?’

  ‘In my memories I’ll always love her,’ he admitted with a hint of sadness, ‘but life has to go on.’

  ‘For me there will never be anyone but your father.’

  ‘You had a long time together,’ he pointed out. ‘Maria and I had a few years. I have my whole life in front of me, I don’t intend spending it alone.’

  ‘Then for pity’s sake find someone more suitable than that English girl. You are Greek, Andreas, are you forgetting that? You should marry someone from your homeland.’

  ‘I’ve not said I’m going to marry Peta,’ he insisted. ‘Although now you’ve put the idea in my head it might not be such a bad thing.’

  His mother shook her head in despair. ‘Don’t do this to me, Andreas.’

  ‘There are some things over which a mother has no control,’ he said to her gently. ‘And her son falling in love is one of them.’

  ‘So you do love her?’ she accused.

  ‘I haven’t said that. I find her immensely attractive, but so far it’s gone no further. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t frighten her off by threats.’

  His mother clamped her lips; it was obvious she was having difficulty in holding back a further tirade. In the end she simply shook her head and walked swiftly back to the house.

  Andreas didn’t see Peta again until he found her sitting with the boys while they ate the supper she had prepared.

  He joined her in the window-seat, keeping his voice low so that Nikos and Ben couldn’t hear. ‘My mother had no right speaking to you as she did. Oh, yes, I know all about it,’ he added when she looked at him in surprise. ‘She tried to get to me, too.’ He smiled indulgently. ‘She still thinks she can tell me what to do. I think it’s because she has too much time on her hands. She’s lonely, and she’d love me to move back here permanently.’

  ‘How about your brother? Does he live at home?’

  ‘What do you think?’ he asked with a devilish grin. ‘Neither of us could wait to move out. We loved our parents dearly but there comes a time when a man needs his own space.’

  ‘Is Christos married?’

  ‘No.’

  It was Peta’s turn to give an impish smile. ‘Perhaps he’ll find a nice English girl to settle down with.’

  ‘And upset my mother altogether?’ he said with a laugh. ‘Poor dear, she really does live in another age. But let’s not talk about her any more; let’s talk about us.’ He saw the startled light in her eyes, knew she wanted to move away, so he reached out and took her hand. ‘You can’t ignore the spark that exists.’ Even now it was sending an army of sensations through his loins.

  ‘I can and I do,’ she told him heatedly. ‘There can be nothing between us, Andreas. It’s crazy even thinking about it. I didn’t take the job because I wanted an affair. I took it because I felt sorry for Nikos. He is my main responsibility.’

  So he meant nothing to her. Andreas felt personally affronted. It hadn’t felt like nothing when he kissed her, he was sure she had been equally aroused. So why was she denying it?

  Peta knew she was right in declaring that she was here to do a job and nothing else. No matter what thoughts, what emotions, what sensations ran through her, she had to ignore them.

  Andreas wasn’t in love with her; he simply lusted after her. She had read it in his eyes, seen it in the way he looked at her, felt it in his kiss. It had done all sorts of things to her that should never have been allowed, but what was the point in indulging in an affair? His world was a far cry from hers. For all she knew he coul
d have had a string of girlfriends since he’d lost Maria.

  ‘What are you thinking?’

  She looked at him then, saw that he was watching her, that his eyes were as dark as a midnight sky.

  ‘I was listening to the boys.’ Ben and Nikos were squabbling, she suddenly realised. It gave her the perfect excuse.

  ‘Liar.’ It was a gentle reproval, there was even the hint of a smile. ‘You were thinking about us. Deny it if you dare.’

  Peta shrugged her slender shoulders. ‘Maybe I was. Maybe I was realising what a big mistake I’ve made.’

  The smile changed to a frown. ‘In letting me kiss you?’ There was a faint edge to his tone this time.

  ‘It wasn’t the right thing to do, especially with your mother watching. Rest assured, it won’t happen again.’

  ‘In that case,’ he said with a wicked smile, ‘we’ll have to be more careful.’

  ‘There won’t be another time,’ Peta assured him sharply.

  The grin widened. ‘What if you can’t help yourself?’

  ‘I shall make sure I don’t put myself in such a position,’ she announced haughtily. ‘Ben, stop that, will you?’

  ‘Are you making a point here? Reminding me that it’s the boys you’re here to supervise? That I am a no-go area?’

  She nodded. ‘Exactly.’

  ‘I think you might find that very difficult.’ He sat more comfortably in his seat, looking wholly amused by the whole conversation. ‘I think maybe you don’t realise the strength of your own feelings.’

  ‘And I think maybe you are seeing things that aren’t there,’ she retorted sharply, and, turning her head, said, ‘Boys, will you please stop arguing?’

  When they realised they were being observed Ben and Nikos shut up and got on with their meal.

  ‘We’ll finish this conversation later,’ said Andreas, finally accepting that he was getting nowhere while the boys were present. Lazily he pushed himself up, but his eyes never left her. They stroked intimately over her whole body—arousing, hurting, even, sending sensation after sensation sizzling through her veins.

  Peta closed her eyes until he had left the room. She didn’t want to see, didn’t want to feel. It had been a mistake coming here to Greece with Andreas and his son. She had thought they would all get on together, that it would be a good experience for Ben, but Andreas was spoiling it. He was asking far more of her than she was prepared to give.

  Had it been his intention all along? Was that the reason he’d insisted she change her job? He’d virtually given her no choice; she would have been out of work altogether if she hadn’t gone along with his request. And now she was in the unenviable position of allowing herself to be seduced by him or being shipped back to England without a job or a home to go to. There was always her mother, of course, but…

  An hour later, when the boys were in bed and Peta was sitting out on the living-room balcony, enjoying the last rays of the sun which had turned the sky above Athens into a glowing red furnace, she sensed rather than saw Andreas standing beside her.

  She hadn’t been aware of him approaching, miles away with her thoughts, and now she looked at him in surprise and not without a little trepidation. She had been thinking about their conversation, about the way her body reacted when he was near, and whether she was being foolish denying herself the pleasure she knew he could give her. He was aware, of course, exactly how she felt, and if he put the pressure on she would be lost. But where would it get them? It would surely be better to maintain a safe distance, to do the job she had been brought out here for, and to hell with anything else.

  ‘Aren’t you hungry?’ The words meant one thing, his eyes another.

  Peta felt a stinging sensation hit the very core of her. Damn him! ‘I wasn’t sure whether you were. I didn’t know what you expected of me.’ In truth food was the furthest thought from her mind.

  ‘Actually, I’m starving,’ he said ‘You stay here and enjoy all these new sights and sounds. I’ll rustle us both up something to eat.’

  ‘You cook?’ she enquired. This was a surprise, coming from a man who could afford an army of servants.

  ‘You think I can’t?’

  Peta turned her lips down at the corners and shrugged. ‘I’ve never really thought about it.’

  ‘But you think I’m spoilt and pampered, unable to lift a finger for myself?’ There was a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke.

  ‘You said it,’ she retorted with a grin.

  ‘There are lots of things about me you don’t know,’ he told her. ‘Be prepared for a culinary delight. Maybe madam would like a glass of wine while she’s waiting?’

  ‘Maybe madam doesn’t drink.’

  ‘Of course. I was forgetting. A fruit juice, then? Something long and cold and inviting?’ His voice went down an octave, becoming suddenly seductive and exciting.

  Peta gave a faint smile and nodded. ‘That would be nice.’ And her stomach did a somersault, which didn’t bode well for an intimate evening spent together. Maybe there would have been something welcome about his mother being present after all.

  It seemed that no time had elapsed before he announced that dinner was ready.

  He’d laid the table with an ornately embroidered tablecloth and heavily engraved silver.

  ‘It looks very formal for a simple supper,’ she said doubtfully.

  ‘The man wants to impress the lady.’

  ‘I’ll reserve judgement until I’ve eaten,’ she answered.

  He pulled out her chair, his hands dropping to her shoulders as she sat. Nothing more than a fleeting touch, but it was enough to send all her good intentions crashing to the floor.

  The food was simple but superbly cooked: melon to start with, followed by chicken breasts in a delicious tomato sauce served with potatoes that had been braised in the same sauce. Peta wasn’t sure how she got through it; she was aware of nothing but Andreas and the power he exerted over her. Power was a strange word to use, she thought. Andreas was a powerful man in the business world, he had a powerful body, too, but this was power of a different kind.

  It was a silent, insidious power; power over her body. He was taking her over whether she wanted him to or not. It was a mind game. He was playing with her emotions, making her want him against her will.

  They talked about all sorts of things while they ate—the state of the world, the state of the company back in England, the boys—anything and everything except themselves. But Peta thought that now might be a good time to ask him about Maria.

  Here, in this apartment, she could feel her presence, feel an invisible third party. There was a portrait hanging on the upstairs landing of a beautiful young woman with jet-black hair and flashing dark eyes that followed her whenever she walked past. She guessed it was his wife because Nikos looked so very much like her.

  ‘Yes, that’s Maria,’ Andreas admitted, when Peta dared to ask, and she saw the inevitable sadness in his eyes. It looked to her as though Maria’s ghost would haunt him for ever.

  ‘Did you live here when you were married?’ she asked as she took a sip of her coffee, unable to think of any other reason for his wife’s portrait to be here.

  ‘Not until my father became ill and Mother couldn’t manage. He was sick for a long time. And after he’d died my mother needed me more than ever.’

  So that was the reason his parent was so possessive, thought Peta. ‘Did it work?’ she asked. ‘Did Maria mind?’

  ‘She loved it because she had company while I was out at work. I worked very long hours,’ he admitted with a surprising touch of guilt. ‘She and my mother got on well. Maria was the daughter of an old friend of my parents. I’d known her practically all my life. And when Nikos came along it was exactly what my mother needed to give her a new lease of life. There was no thought then of us moving out.’

  ‘How long since Maria died?’ Peta asked gently, feeling nothing but sympathy for this man who clearly still had very deep feelings for the woman who had born
e him his son.

  He drew in a slow, deep breath. ‘Two years, almost. It was a tragic, tragic day.’ His mind seemed to go back in time and it was several long seconds before he spoke again. ‘It was a road accident. Nikos was with her. For some reason Maria didn’t have her seat belt on; she stood no chance. Nikos was strapped in but he can remember nothing of it. I think the accident traumatised him to such an extent that he’s blocked it out. If I ever catch the swine who drove her off the road I’ll kill him,’ he announced fiercely. ‘It’s a notorious bend, with a sheer drop, but Maria knew that road well, always took care.’

  ‘So the police never traced the other car?’

  ‘No. There was red paint on her car, so we know someone else was involved, but who it was will always remain a mystery. I sure hope whoever it was has it on his conscience for the rest of his life,’ he finished bitterly.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ said Peta. ‘You must have been devastated.’

  ‘To put it mildly,’ he agreed. ‘I blame myself entirely. I’d planned to take Maria and Nikos out that day, then something cropped up at work and as usual I refused to delegate. We had a row; she said I always put work before her.’ He dropped his head, pressing his fingers to throbbing temples. ‘And dammit she was right. I did. I do. I threw myself into my work more than ever after she died. And poor Nikos. I couldn’t bear to have him around me. He’s so like Maria that it was torture every time I looked at him. I didn’t think the pain would ever go away.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ said Peta softly. ‘You don’t have to tell me any more.’ Because suddenly she understood. ‘It’s not an easy thing to get over.’

  ‘I’m getting there,’ he announced, finally lifting his head. ‘And there’s a certain beautiful young lady who’s proving to me that there is life after Maria.’ The look in his eyes said it all.