Greek Tycoon's Mistletoe Proposal

by Kandy Shepherd

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And that’s where I come in? If I agree, that is. What would my—’ she used her fingers to make quotation marks ‘—duties involve?’

  ‘Accompany me for the evening. Make intelligent conversation—I can see that won’t be a problem—and behave as though we are a genuine couple. Convince Ms Norris that there is no point in pursuing me as I am already involved with a beautiful redhead.’ He looked at her with what seemed like genuine admiration. She couldn’t help but preen a little.

  ‘So, act all lovey-dovey?’

  ‘I’m not exactly sure what you mean by that but I think I get the gist of it,’ he said with that ghost of a smile she was beginning to anticipate.

  ‘You know, act affectionate and smoochy with each other.’ Why had she said that? Because she realised that if she had met this man in different circumstances she would find the idea of smooching with him more than a touch appealing.

  ‘It will be a business dinner,’ he said. ‘Anything...physical would have to be discreet.’

  ‘I get it,’ she said. Ashleigh wondered if he was subtly warning her not to form any expectations of anything other than a fake date with him.

  He stood with his back to the window, his hands clasped behind him. The curtains were drawn against the cold of a December evening, but she knew the window looked down to a city-sized garden, perfectly maintained with formal clipped hedges and a centrepiece fountain. No doubt there was a team of gardeners to keep it in shape for when the absentee owner decided to drop into London.

  She looked up at him, wishing she wasn’t wearing flat shoes—he was so much taller than her and his superior height seemed to emphasise the balance of power that tipped firmly in his favour. The billionaire and the maid.

  ‘If I agreed to your proposition, what would be the consequences for me?’ she asked.

  ‘No complaint would be made against you to your employer or the police.’

  ‘And my “debt” to you?’ That calculation of hotel rates rankled. She doubted he would be able to enforce something so spurious. But she was hardly in a position to question his methods. Not when he had every right to report her to the police.

  ‘Of course your debt would be wiped completely.’

  ‘In return for one dinner date with you and your potential business partner?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said.

  Ashleigh didn’t ask if she would continue to be his daily maid. She knew she’d flicked her last ever duster around this house. She’d have to invent a good excuse to give Clio for why she wanted to quit such a pleasant job.

  ‘It sounds like it could be fun,’ she said, forcing a smile. What choice did she have but to agree?

  ‘As I said, you might even enjoy it,’ he said. ‘The dinner is at an excellent restaurant in Mayfair.’ The kind of place maids usually didn’t eat at was the implication. Or indeed accountants from Bundaberg.

  She took a deep breath. ‘Okay, I’ll do it,’ she said. ‘But there’s just one more thing.’

  He raised a dark eyebrow. ‘Yes?’

  ‘How will we get around the fact that we’re total strangers and know absolutely nothing about each other?’

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘HOW DO WE get over the hurdle that we are strangers? We start finding out about each other,’ Lukas said. ‘We have until tomorrow evening to make our story sound feasible.’

  He was pleased Ashleigh had acquiesced so readily. So he’d had to use some leverage to get her on board, but that was what it took sometimes to get a deal across the line. He’d learned that at twenty-one when he’d had to sort out the mess his profligate parents had made of the company. It had been a tough lesson—he’d discovered people he’d thought he could trust could not be trusted, that he had to be guarded, tamp down on his reactions and feelings. The episode had marked the end of his youth.

  ‘You mean I get a crash course in Greek billionaire and you learn what makes an Aussie maid tick?’ she said.

  ‘Aren’t you masquerading as a maid? That’s just a vacation job, isn’t it? I suggest you stick to Aussie accountant,’ he said. ‘We’ll skirt around the maid thing as far as Tina Norris is concerned.’ No doubt Ms Norris would have done her research, discovered he was a steadfast bachelor, would scrutinise the woman he chose to accompany him. He shuddered again at the thought of the predatory gleam in the older woman’s eye when they’d met. Buried in his past was good reason for his revulsion.

  ‘Actually, I don’t much like being an accountant,’ Ashleigh said. ‘I was steered into it by my parents, who thought accountancy would bring a secure job. I’ve got my options wide open when it comes to changing career.’

  ‘You’ll need to brief me on all that,’ he said.

  The briefing would not be onerous—there was something about this girl that intrigued him. Ashleigh Murphy seemed somehow different to the women he usually met. Perhaps because she was Australian. More likely because she didn’t move in the same social circles. He liked that she didn’t seem intimidated by him or fall over backwards to impress him.

  She shrugged. ‘Not much to tell, really. I managed a flooring company back home.’

  ‘You were a manager? That’s impressive.’ She didn’t appear to be long out of university.

  Her slight smile in response hinted at dimples and he found himself wanting to make her smile properly. Not that he was adept at telling jokes or funny stories. In fact he’d been accused of being over-serious. Since he’d been forced to swap his carefree life as a wealthy kid who’d known he would never have to work for a living, there had been little room for laughter. Or for love.

  Where did that come from? Perhaps prompted by the knowledge that, at the age of thirty-four, he had to pretend he had a serious woman in his life. A wife, children—there wasn’t room in his life for marriage. He didn’t want all that. And, he told himself, he didn’t miss it. The Christophedes companies took up all his life. The business was his life.

  ‘The title sounds more impressive than it is,’ she said. ‘It’s a small company and I wore a few different hats. But it had a good product and I worked with really nice people. Truth is, you can’t be too picky when it comes to getting a good job in a country town. There aren’t many opportunities.’

  Lukas couldn’t imagine why a woman as smart and lovely as Ashleigh Murphy would want to bury herself in some far-flung country town. He would find out why tonight.

  He glanced at his watch. ‘Have you eaten?’

  ‘No. I was...er...going to have something after my bath.’

  ‘So you’ve been using my kitchen too?’

  She nodded. ‘I won’t lie,’ she said. ‘Though it sounds like I might be doing a lot of lying tomorrow night.’

  ‘Not lying.’ He refused to contemplate that he was planning anything that smacked of dishonesty. ‘Think of it as role playing.’

  Her auburn eyebrows rose. ‘Not a bad idea. I’ve done some acting—amateur, of course—so I’ll think of this as preparing for a role.’ She pulled a face. ‘You might have to help me with the script.’

  ‘Starting from now,’ he said. They had until tomorrow, but a good part of his day would be, as usual, taken up with work. ‘You haven’t eaten and I haven’t eaten. Come out to dinner with me and we’ll start the get-to-know-you process.’

  ‘Uh, okay,’ she said, obviously disconcerted. ‘But...but I need to find somewhere to stay tonight. I have to phone around my friends.’ She looked at her feet, obviously uncomfortable at the reminder of her transgression. As well she might be.

  ‘You can stay here tonight,’ he said.

  She looked up. ‘As part of the deal?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. Whatever she might think of him, he would not let a young woman risk being alone in London without a safe place to sleep. ‘Though you can st
eer clear of my bathroom.’

  ‘And what about tomorrow night?’ she said, audacity trickling back into her demeanour.

  ‘Tomorrow night too.’

  For the first time since he had encountered her in his bathtub Ashleigh smiled. Delightful dimples bracketed her cheeks and light danced in her eyes. He found himself dazzled by the warmth and vivacity that smile brought to her face. She really was lovely, in a wholesome, unsophisticated way.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said again. ‘That will give me the breathing space I need to make other arrangements.’

  ‘After that you’ll be on your own,’ he cautioned her.

  ‘I’m aware of that,’ she said. ‘I realise I’m only here on sufferance.’ She paused. ‘Just checking I won’t be charged accommodation fees for those two extra nights?’

  ‘Of course not,’ he said, an edge of impatience burring his voice. ‘You’re now an invited guest.’

  ‘Just needed to be sure,’ she said, but there was an impish gleam to her eyes that made him unsure if she was completely serious. He wasn’t used to being teased.

  He looked pointedly at his watch. ‘I suggest you go back downstairs and change.’

  She looked down at her jeans and trainers, as if seeing them for the first time. ‘Yes, these clothes won’t do, will they? I’m warning you, though, I don’t have the wardrobe to be a billionaire’s escort.’ She flushed. ‘I mean “escort” in the old-fashioned sense of the word, not...uh...the other.’

  ‘I thought I’d made it very clear that this is strictly business.’ Now he felt like rolling his eyes.

  ‘Yes, you did,’ she said. ‘And I didn’t mean...’ Her words petered to a halt. She walked back to the desk and picked up her backpack. ‘I’ll go down to change now. Shall I meet you at the bottom of the stairs in ten minutes?’

  He nodded, secretly sceptical about the ten minutes. Never had he known a woman to get ready for a dinner date in that small amount of time.

  She headed towards the door. Again, he thought how gracefully she moved. It made watching her do something as simple as walk away a pleasure. But she stopped and turned on her heel to face him again. ‘Mr Christophedes, before I go, I want to thank you for...well, for being so reasonable about all this. I appreciate it and I want to assure you that in return I’ll do my very best for you with the fake date scenario.’

  It gave him a jolt that she called him Mr Christophedes. The formal usage felt as if she had put him in his place—an older guy, an employer, someone of a different generation to be kept at a distance.

  He didn’t know why he didn’t like it. But she couldn’t keep calling him Mr Christophedes when they were together with Tina Norris. That would give away the game.

  Ashleigh didn’t wait for an answer and her quickened pace as she left the room made it clear she didn’t expect one.

  Lukas looked at the doorway for a long moment after she’d left. Who would have thought the maid in his bathtub would turn out to be such an interesting woman?

  Ten minutes later, he was amazed to find Ashleigh waiting for him at the base of the staircase. She’d used the time to advantage. He was so taken aback by the result he was momentarily lost for words. Once again, she’d surprised him.

  No trace of backpacker remained. She wore a simple black dress, buttoned down the front and belted at the waist, with elbow-length sleeves. The hem stopped just above her knees to display slender legs encased in fine charcoal stockings and finished with low-heeled black pumps.

  ‘Do I look okay for the restaurant?’ she said, aware of his overly long inspection.

  Her hair had been tamed and pulled half back off her face. She’d darkened around her eyes, which made them look even bluer, and her mouth gleamed with a warm pink lipstick.

  ‘You look very nice,’ he said, then cursed inwardly that he’d used such an overworked English word. Eisai omorfi were the words that sprang to his mind—You look beautiful. But that would be inappropriate.

  ‘Great, because this is the only dress I’ve got with me,’ she said with a sigh of relief. ‘It’s what I wear when I’m waitressing at posh parties. Maids in Chelsea doesn’t have a uniform—a black dress is required for such occasions. My friend Sophie gave this to me when I started there. She’s a fashion designer—when she’s not a maid or waitress, that is—she’d made it for herself then adjusted it to fit me.’ She smiled. ‘But I guess that’s too much information, isn’t it?’

  Lukas was still shaken by his reaction to how good she looked in that dress. It was discreet, modest even, but it fitted snugly and made no secret of her curves, a hint of cleavage in the open neckline, the belt emphasising her narrow waist and the flare of her hips. He had to clear his voice to speak. ‘Not really. Now I know you have a friend Sophie who is generous and good to you.’

  Ashleigh smiled—not her full-on dazzling smile but halfway to it. ‘I went to school in Manchester with Sophie when we were teenagers and we’ve always stayed in touch. She got me the job too. Then introduced me to two of the other girls at Maids in Chelsea and we’ve all become friends.’ She looked up at him, that smile still hovering around her mouth. ‘But none with a sofa available when I needed it.’

  Lukas smiled in response. He wouldn’t go so far as to say he was glad she’d ended up at his house—but his outrage at her impudence had dissipated.

  ‘You’ll be cold when we get outside.’ He noticed she had a coat slung over her arm. ‘Get your coat on and we’ll walk to the restaurant.’

  She shrugged on her coat and once again Lukas stared at her, this time in what he feared was ill-concealed dismay. Of course she picked up on it. ‘It’s not great, is it?’ she said of the shabby quilted anorak that didn’t meet the hem of her dress.

  ‘Is that the only coat you have?’

  ‘A warm overcoat is not something you need in Bundaberg’s tropical climate,’ she said. ‘I borrowed this from my sister from when she backpacked around Europe. I’m waiting until next payday to buy something more suitable for London.’

  ‘In the meantime, you shiver?’ he said.

  ‘Let’s just say I walk really fast when I’m outside,’ she said. ‘Oh, and these help.’ From out of her coat pocket she pulled a hideous checked scarf and a pair of knitted mittens and flourished them in front of him. Lukas had to refrain from shuddering his distaste. He might have his issues with his mother but she was the most elegantly dressed woman he knew, and had set the standard for how he expected a woman to dress. He’d have to schedule a shopping expedition for Ashleigh in the morning so she looked the part for their fake date.

  ‘You can’t wear that out with me,’ he said, too bluntly.

  ‘Oh,’ she said, suddenly subdued. Without protest, she slid the odious excuse for a coat off her shoulders. ‘Then I guess I’ll shiver in just my dress.’ With great exaggeration, she wrapped her arms around herself and made her teeth chatter. ‘I’ll walk really, really fast to the restaurant.’

  ‘No need for that,’ he said, heading for the cloakroom under the stairs. ‘My mother left a coat behind on her last visit. She’s a little taller than you but I think it will fit.’

  ‘Your mother won’t mind?’

  ‘My mother has so many clothes she’s probably forgotten she has it,’ he said.

  Lukas flicked through the coats and jackets he left here for his own use. ‘Here it is,’ he said and pulled out a wraparound coat of fine wool in a subtle leopard print with a shawl collar. A faint whiff of his mother’s signature perfume drifted to his nostrils. It brought memories of his glamorous mama kissing him goodnight before she headed out for yet another party, leaving him once again with his nanny. He’d grown up loving his nanny more than his mother. He held out the coat to Ashleigh.

  ‘Oh, I love it,’ she breathed, her eyes wide with admiration. ‘Are you sure it’s okay for me to w
ear it?’

  ‘Would I offer if it wasn’t?’

  ‘It’s just that it looks very expensive.’

  ‘I’m sure it is,’ he said. His mother’s extravagance wasn’t the sole reason his parents’ management of the company had brought the business crashing to its knees, but it had certainly contributed to it.

  He held the coat open. ‘Here, let me help you into it.’

  As Ashleigh slid her arms into the coat it brought her close to him. So close he could smell her scent—something fresh and light and appealing. Much like Ashleigh herself.

  She shrugged the coat over her shoulders, headed to the large mirror on the wall opposite the stairs. There she tied the belt around her waist, adjusted the collar. Then fluffed up her hair and pouted at her image as she scrutinised her appearance, in a gesture that was instinctively feminine. She snuggled into the coat and closed her eyes in bliss. Lukas was stunned by the sensuality of her expression he saw reflected in the mirror.

  ‘This is the most wonderful coat,’ she purred as she stepped away from the mirror. ‘I’ve never worn anything like it. Thank you, Mrs Christophedes.’ She blew a kiss in the direction of the cloakroom. The warm tones of the leopard print were perfect for her colouring, making her hair seem to flame under the hallway chandelier, lifting her pale skin. She did a graceful little twirl and the hem of the coat swung open to show her legs. She looked sensational. ‘And thank you too, Mr Christo—’

  ‘Lukas,’ he said gruffly, keeping his hands fisted by his sides.

  ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Lukas.’ His name sounded like a caress on her voice. ‘I’ll have to get used to calling you that. Be careful not to give the game away when we’re on our fake date.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said.

  He would have to be careful too. When he’d devised the solution to the problem with Tina Norris, he hadn’t expected to feel any stirrings of attraction to his pretend girlfriend. He could not let that happen.