The Greek Tycoon's Virgin Mistress

by Chantelle Shaw

  At eight she could wait no longer and took the lift to his floor, her heart hammering in her chest when she headed down the corridor to his suite. The patience and understanding he’d shown the previous night had proved irrefutably that she could trust him. She accepted that they would never have a proper relationship until she told him about her stepfather and now she was ready to confide in him.

  Perhaps Damon would be able to dismiss the fears that Philip Stone had put into her head—the idea that sex was grubby and disgusting. Common sense told her that making love was a perfectly natural act but she needed Damon’s strength and sensitivity to convince her.

  ‘I know it’s early, but I couldn’t wait to see you,’ she said shyly when he answered his door. ‘I thought we could have breakfast together…’ She tailed to a halt and stared at his grim face.

  He looked terrible. His face was haggard, with deep lines etched around his mouth. His grey suit was impeccably tailored but he’d obviously not found time to shave, and his jaw was shaded with black stubble.

  ‘Damon, what’s wrong?’

  ‘I have to go home. Today. Now.’ His accent was very pronounced—an indication of his stress levels—and as he strode across to his bedroom he spoke into the cell phone clamped to his ear, in terse, voluble Greek.

  ‘I’m sorry, Anna,’ he said when he finished the call and turned to find her hovering uncertainly in the doorway. ‘It’s an emergency. I can’t get on a damn flight for hours, so I’ve chartered a private jet.’ As he spoke he bundled several bespoke, Egyptian cotton shirts into his case with as much care as if they were rags, before drawing the zip shut. With a final glance around the room, he snatched up his jacket and headed for the door, frowning when she continued to block his path.

  ‘I’ll call you,’ he promised distractedly, but it was only when she put her hand on his arm that he seemed to really register her presence.

  ‘What’s happened? What sort of emergency? Please—don’t shut me out, Damon,’ she pleaded. ‘Maybe I can help?’

  He took a deep breath, as if he had to force himself to be patient with her. ‘There’s been an accident back in Greece. Everything’s under control and there’s nothing you can do. I just need to get home as quickly as possible.’

  ‘But who…a member of your family—why is it such a secret?’ Anna broke off, appalled by the thought that had suddenly struck her. ‘Do you have a mistress in Greece? Is that why you won’t tell me?’

  ‘Theos, why do you always think the worst?’ he growled savagely. ‘I don’t have a mistress—in Greece or anywhere else.’

  ‘Then who has been hurt in an accident?’ she demanded. ‘I thought we were friends, Damon—that there was something between us. Surely you can tell me?’

  For a moment he looked as if he would ignore her. His face was a tight mask, his eyes shadowed and unfathomable, but then he turned—his hand already on the door handle—and stared at her.

  ‘My daughter has fallen off her bike and is in hospital with concussion. Tests have detected a slight swelling on the brain. That’s why I have to go.’

  The silence in the room vibrated with tension as Anna struggled to assimilate his words. He had to be making some sort of cruel joke, she decided numbly. This was Damon, the man whom, during the long hours of the night, she had decided that she could trust with her life. How could he have a child and not have told her?

  ‘Your daughter?’ she said thickly, desperately trying to moisten her parched lips. ‘You have a daughter? But when…how?’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘It’s quite simple,’ he said brusquely. The look of shocked disbelief in her eyes made his gut twist, but there was no time to break the news gently when his adored little girl was lying injured in a hospital bed. ‘My wife gave birth to our daughter, Ianthe, ten months before her death.’

  ‘So she…your daughter, she’s eight years old?’

  ‘Nearly nine—’ He broke off and raked a hand through his hair. ‘Look, I realise it must have come as a shock, but I really don’t have time to talk about it—her—now.’ He pulled open the door, his big body taut with impatience and the need for action. ‘I’ll call you, pedhaki mou.’

  ‘Don’t!’ Anna gave a harsh laugh. ‘Don’t call me that. In fact, don’t call me at all. I never want to hear from you again, Damon.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ On the point of striding out of the room, he halted and swung back to stare at her ashen face. ‘We need to talk, Anna,’ he added more gently when she lifted her bewildered, pain-filled eyes to him. ‘But right now my first priority is Ianthe. You must see that.’

  Anna stared at him as if she were truly seeing him for the first time and the contempt in her eyes drove a knife through his heart. ‘She should always be your first priority, Damon. My God! She’s an eight-year-old, motherless child and you left her alone in Greece while you flew to the other side of the world to try and persuade me into your bed. What kind of a father does that make you?’

  ‘I did not leave her alone,’ he snapped furiously, outraged that she should question his abilities as a parent. ‘Ianthe has always spent a great deal of time with my sister and her family. She regards Catalina as a surrogate mother and is as close to her cousins as if they were her own brothers.’

  ‘It’s not the same,’ Anna told him fiercely. ‘You are her father, her only parent, and you left her to be with me. I know how it feels to be abandoned. To be overlooked in favour of another woman. You’re just the same as my father and I can’t believe I was so stupid as to have actually started to trust you.’

  ‘When have I ever given you cause to doubt my word?’ Damon demanded, his eyes smouldering with angry fire.

  ‘You have a child!’ Anna yelled at him. ‘A child you’ve never seen fit to mention despite the fact that you urged me to trust you. Why didn’t you tell me?’ she whispered brokenly, her anger draining away as the enormity of his deception hit her.

  Damon looked as though he had been sculpted from marble, his skin stretched taut over the sharp contours of his face. Suddenly he seemed frighteningly distant and remote and she realised with a sickening lurch that she really didn’t know him at all. ‘In the general scheme of things, I’m not important to you, am I, Damon?’

  ‘At first, no, you were not,’ he admitted bluntly. ‘I have always kept my private life separate from Ianthe. It’s amazing how many women view a multimillionaire single father as prime husband material. And I was not looking for a wife.’

  ‘Are you saying you didn’t tell me about your daughter because you feared I would use her as a means to engineer a permanent place in your life? My God, your arrogance is beyond belief.’

  Anna fought the wave of nausea that swept over her. Her heart felt as though it had been rent in two but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he had hurt her. ‘You know my feelings on the whole step-parent issue.’

  ‘Which is precisely why I couldn’t find the courage to broach the subject,’ Damon replied quietly. ‘I have known for some time that you are different to my previous mistresses.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve got a major hang-up about sex. I don’t imagine it’s a problem that your numerous exes have ever suffered from,’ she flung at him bitterly.

  ‘I meant that I…feel differently about you. You mean more to me than any other woman has done since Eleni died,’ he admitted slowly.

  Incredibly for Damon Kouvaris, he seemed awkward and unsure of himself—a first, surely, for Mr Confidence, Anna thought darkly. The tide of colour that stained his cheekbones was all the more endearing because it was in such contrast to his usual arrogance.

  But his embarrassment was probably caused by guilt that he had been caught out, she told herself fiercely as she hardened her heart against him. All the time he had been urging her to trust him, he had been deliberately deceiving her. He was no better than every other man she’d met. No better than her father.

  It belatedly occurred to her th
at somewhere on the other side of the world a frightened little girl was lying alone in hospital with possibly life-threatening injuries. Now was not the time for bitter recriminations. Damon’s daughter needed him and the most important thing right now was for him to be by her side.

  ‘Just…go, Damon. Go home to your little girl. Trust me,’ she whispered thickly, ‘the only person she wants at the moment is her daddy. No one else will do.’

  Damon nodded, his face darkening when he moved jerkily towards her and saw her flinch. The silent plea in his eyes tore at Anna’s heart but her composure was held together by the most fragile of threads and she knew that if he touched her, it would snap.

  She watched as he stepped into the lift, her gaze locked with his until the doors silently closed between them. And then he was gone. Stifling a sob, she hurried back to her room and bolted the door before she gave in to the maelstrom of emotions that hit her with the force of a tornado.

  Athens in August was as hot as Hades. During the short walk across the airport car park, Anna had felt the intense heat of the sun on her skin and was glad to climb into the cool interior of the air-conditioned limousine that was waiting to collect her.

  The roads leading from the airport were teeming with traffic. The chauffeur seemed unconcerned by the cacophony of hooting from impatient taxi drivers but Anna held her breath when one of the literally hundreds of motorcyclists on the road veered in front of them.

  ‘Have you visited Athens before?’ enquired the young woman who was sitting beside her in the back of the car.

  ‘I’ve worked here a few times but I’ve never really explored Athens properly, and fortunately I’ve never had to drive on its roads,’ Anna replied dryly. ‘Is the studio far from here?’

  ‘We’re actually going to my private villa, which is about twenty minutes out of town. I have a workshop and design studio there and I think it will be an ideal place for the photo shoot,’ the woman explained, her Greek accent not detracting from the fact that she spoke excellent English. ‘I’ve booked Fabien Valoise. I know you’ve worked with him before and I was very impressed with the pictures he took of you.’

  Anna’s brows rose. Tina Theopoulis was obviously sparing no expense in the marketing of her range of exclusive, hand-crafted jewellery. Fabien Valoise was one of the best photographers around and she knew that his diary was booked up for months in advance.

  When her agent had first contacted her with details of the assignment in Greece, she had turned it down flat, stating with complete honesty that she would rather fly to the moon than travel to Athens. But Tina Theopoulis—or her financial backers—had been adamant that Anna’s cool, Nordic beauty would provide a perfect backdrop for the Aphrodite collection.

  It was not the eye-opening financial incentive offered that had finally made her decide to take the job, Anna acknowledged as she stared out at the busy streets. She had no interest in money or her career—no interest in life itself.

  For the past month—ever since she had returned from New York—she’d felt as though she were slowly dying inside. She couldn’t sleep, and certainly couldn’t eat. It was unheard of for a model to be too thin, but her clothes were hanging off her and her eyes looked too big for her gaunt face. She could only hope Fabien Valoise would work his magic with the camera and transform the dull-eyed stick insect she had become into the iconic Anneliese Christiansen that Tina Theopoulis was expecting.

  The only reason she had come to Athens was because Damon was here, and, although she hated to admit it, she’d been unable to resist the opportunity to be near him. Not that she expected to actually see him, she conceded miserably. Athens was a big and overcrowded city and the chances of bumping into him were practically zero. But this was Damon’s home and her bruised heart took some comfort from knowing that he was near.

  The car eventually reached the outskirts of the city and headed out towards the Olympic Village before the road climbed into the mountains.

  ‘Here we are,’ Tina murmured when they turned into a driveway and halted in front of a white-walled villa.

  ‘Goodness, what a spectacular place,’ Anna commented, her unhappiness momentarily forgotten as she stared up at the villa. ‘It’s huge, and absolutely beautiful. How many storeys are there—five?’

  ‘Six counting the basement, and there’s underground parking beneath that,’ Tina replied with a smile. ‘We’re on the slopes of Mount Parnitha, hence the wonderful view. On a clear day it’s even possible to see the island of Aegina.’

  ‘Do you live here alone?’ Anna asked curiously when she followed her hostess up the front steps and into a vast, marble-floored entrance hall. Before Tina could reply, three small boys hurtled into the lobby. The oldest couldn’t be more than five years old, Anna guessed, while the youngest was little more than a baby, with chubby limbs and an adorable smile.

  ‘Hardly alone, as you can see,’ Tina laughed, ‘although I sometimes think I would be more productive in my work if I did not have the children.’

  ‘But you wouldn’t be without them,’ Anna guessed, feeling an unexpected pang of longing when she watched Tina lift the youngest child into her arms. She’d never given much thought to having a family of her own. It was something she’d vaguely imagined for her future—and would only be possible if she ever overcame the seemingly insurmountable problem of trusting a man enough to have a physical relationship with him.

  For a brief time she’d believed she could trust Damon, she thought bitterly. But even if by some miracle they met again and embarked on an affair—that was all it would be. Damon had a child who was, rightly, the main priority in his life, and he’d made it clear that he wasn’t looking for a permanent relationship with any woman.

  ‘The villa is arranged as two separate residences,’ Tina explained as she ushered Anna over to the lift. ‘My husband, Kosta, and I live with the boys in the lower rooms and my bro…’ she paused, suddenly flustered and pink cheeked, before quickly adding ‘…and other family members occupy the top floors. My workshop is in the basement. If you’d like to go down, I’ll take the children to their nanny and join you in a few minutes.’

  The three boys were running boisterously around the lobby. Tina certainly had her hands full, Anna noted when an older child—a girl—suddenly peered over the banister of the ornate central staircase. Four children and a successful career as a jewellery designer—it was an enviable lifestyle, she mused when Tina spoke in Greek to her daughter.

  The girl was a few years older than her brothers, with the same dark eyes and black silky curls. She was exceptionally pretty but seemed shy compared to the bold little boys and stared at Anna curiously for a few seconds, before darting off up the stairs again.

  ‘The lift will take you down to the basement where Fabien is already waiting,’ Tina murmured, seeming curiously tense. Perhaps she was anxious to make a start, Anna decided as she stepped into the lift. The photo shoot must be costing a fortune and, for a small business such as Theopoulis Jewellery Design, time was money.

  As Tina had promised, Fabien Valoise had already arrived. With the help of his lighting engineer, he had turned the design room into a photographic studio and was waiting with the make-up artist, hairdresser and stylist.

  ‘Anna! It’s good to see you, chérie. How are you?’ Fabien greeted her warmly.

  Anna dredged up a smile for the thin, angular man, dressed from head to toe in black. She’d worked with him several times in the past and they had become good friends. ‘Fabien—it’s good to see you, too. I’m fine.’

  ‘Something tells me you’re lying, ma petite.’ Fabien cast a professional eye over her before strolling across the room to greet her with a kiss on both cheeks. ‘You’ve lost weight since I last worked with you. Are you ill, or in love?’

  ‘Isn’t one the cause of the other?’ Anna queried bitterly. ‘Perhaps I’m suffering from a sickness of the heart.’

  ‘Ah! Do you want to talk about it, or do you simply need a shoulder to c
ry on?’ the Frenchman asked with gentle sympathy.

  ‘Neither—I can deal with it,’ Anna replied. ‘Shall we get to work?’

  ‘Just a couple more shots, chérie. Look to the left and lift your chin a little more. Perfect—now look straight at the camera…’

  Anna followed Fabien’s instructions and moved her head obediently. They had been working for several hours and the hot studio lights had made her feel thirsty, but she knew Fabien hated interruptions and so she ignored the prickling dryness of her throat.

  Tina Theopoulis was clearly a gifted artist and jeweller. Anna was impressed with every piece she had modelled, but the wedding collection—comprising a white gold and diamond necklace and drop earrings—was simply exquisite. Diamonds as beautiful as these were almost worth risking marriage for, she thought cynically as she glanced down at the floor-length, oyster silk dress the stylist had chosen for her to wear with the jewellery.

  ‘Okay, chérie, we’ll take a break,’ Fabien murmured.

  Anna gave a sigh of relief and stretched her aching muscles, but as she lifted her head her attention was caught by a figure standing at the back of the room. Her heart rate accelerated and she felt sick and dizzy. She must be seeing things! It could not possibly be Damon—was her last conscious thought before the walls closed in and she slid into oblivion.

  She opened her eyes to find that her face was pressed against a solid wall of muscle.

  ‘Damon?’ she whispered, when a furtive peep upwards revealed a square jaw and the chiselled facial bone structure of a sculpted masterpiece.

  He speared her with a brief, furious glance. ‘Who else were you expecting?’ he demanded curtly.

  ‘Certainly not you—you’re the last person I expected or wanted to see. Where are you taking me?’ she added sharply as she slowly became aware of her surroundings. At that moment the lift halted and the doors opened into an enormous marble-floored room with huge windows on three sides, which allowed sunlight to pour in.