Greek Tycoon's Mistletoe Proposal

by Kandy Shepherd

  ‘You’re right about that,’ he grunted. ‘Tina was right when she called me a lone wolf. That’s the way I like it.’

  And wolves could not be tamed. His message could not be any clearer.

  They spent the ride to Chelsea in an uncomfortable silence, with Ashleigh squashed against the car door to put as much distance between them as she could. She twisted the strap of her elegant new evening purse so tight it was in danger of snapping as she worried about what she might be getting herself into by living in close proximity to Lukas Christophedes.

  Because she had really, really wanted to kiss him into a passionate frenzy against that wall.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE NEXT DAY, Ashleigh leaned back against her chair in a swish café on the Duke of York Square in Chelsea and subjected herself to her fashion-crazy friend Sophie’s scrutiny. She and Sophie had met earlier in the swanky square at the top end of the King’s Road. Sophie had been quick to agree to help Ashleigh with a day of shopping for the Butterfly Ball. ‘You mean actual shopping in posh shops, as opposed to window shopping?’ she’d said. ‘Count me in.’

  Ashleigh had called in more troops for moral support—Emma and Grace were due to arrive soon. It was a perfect winter’s day in London, crisp and clear with a bracing chill. People were talking hopefully of snow.

  ‘You look...different,’ Sophie said with a quizzical expression.

  ‘Probably because I’m wearing a few thousand pounds’ worth of coat and boots,’ Ashleigh said with a laugh. Only the jeans she wore were her own. The black boots, lavender-coloured coat and charcoal top all belonged to Lukas.

  Sophie narrowed her eyes. ‘It’s not just that. Your hair. The make-up.’

  ‘All courtesy of a salon in Mayfair yesterday. They showed me a few tricks that really make a difference. And threw in some samples for me to take home.’

  Sophie’s eyes widened when Ashleigh named the salon. ‘You have got to be kidding. I’d have to take out a mortgage just to have a manicure there.’

  ‘I know. This whole pretend girlfriend thing is surreal. It was like the fairy godmother waved her magic wand over me yesterday. I took a selfie as proof it really happened. Look.’

  Ashleigh pulled out her smartphone to show her old friend the snap she had taken of herself in her borrowed finery, just before she and Lukas had left for the restaurant.

  Sophie took one look and identified the designer of her dress. ‘You look so glamorous,’ she said. ‘And that fairy dust magic is still lingering. It’s difficult to put a finger on it. It’s not just the way you look. I think it’s a new confidence after all these years of the dreadful Dan undermining you.’

  ‘Maybe. It went well last night. I think I really pulled off the role of billionaire’s girlfriend. I kept up with the business talk too. I...I fitted in.’

  ‘Of course you did. You’re beautiful and you’re a brilliant actress. You were the best by far on the stage in the school productions. But is any of that fairy dust to do with Lukas? Don’t tell me you don’t fancy him!’

  Ashleigh picked up her coffee cup and put it down again. ‘Who wouldn’t fancy him? He’s the handsomest man I’ve ever met—and hot. But I’m just playing a role. So is he.’ Not even to Sophie could she admit how much of her thoughts Lukas occupied. Wondering about what it would be like to go on a real date with him. To kiss him for real. To go further than kissing.

  ‘He’s not trying to make a move on you?’

  Ashleigh shook her head. ‘It’s strictly business. He’s got a real “don’t get involved” barrier around him. Which is for the best, really. You know me, a one-night stand isn’t my thing. And that’s all it would be.’ But who knew what might have happened to her scruples last night if that passion she’d felt for him had had a chance to flame?

  ‘Er...of course not,’ said Sophie, shifting in her seat.

  ‘It’s a tricky situation, but so far I’m managing to keep my cool.’

  ‘Are you sure it’s a good idea to be living in his house?’

  ‘I’m perfectly safe there, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘Good. But it sounds like at the moment he really needs you to carry out his plan. Have you thought about afterwards? As soon as that contract is signed he might boot you out.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Ashleigh said slowly. ‘My impression is that he’s an honourable man in his own way.’

  ‘The offer of my sofa still stands, wonky springs and all,’ said Sophie.

  Ashleigh smiled at her friend. ‘Thank you. It’s reassuring to have that safety net. But I know how important it is for you to have your own safe, private place. After what happened with Harry, I mean.’

  Sophie put up her hand. ‘You know I just want to forget that time in my life.’

  But the episode with the Manchester bad boy had scarred her friend, Ashleigh thought. Thanks to email and phone calls, they’d kept their teenage friendship alive. She considered Sophie to be one of her best friends. It had been frustrating to be so far away when Sophie had been in trouble. But they were both in London now, looking out for each other. If Sophie ever needed her, Ashleigh would be here for her. ‘I understand, of course,’ she said.

  ‘So, on the agenda today is shopping for the role of billionaire’s girlfriend for one of the most prestigious events in the London fund-raising calendar,’ Sophie said, in an obvious attempt to change the subject. ‘And hey, how great you’re actually going to a ball as a guest rather than a waitress.’

  ‘I’ll be well and truly back to waitressing by the time The Snowflake Ball rolls around on New Year’s Eve.’

  ‘I wish there was time for me to make you a gown for tomorrow night,’ said Sophie.

  ‘Oh, Sophie, so do I.’ Sophie was a talented designer and preparing to open an online store selling her lovely vintage-inspired designs.

  Just then Ashleigh looked up to see Emma and Grace heading towards them from the direction of the Saatchi Gallery. She waved to attract their attention. Then turned back to Sophie. ‘Please, don’t tell them about the bathtub. You’re the only one I’m sharing that particular incident with.’

  ‘And the rest of it?’

  ‘The pretend girlfriend thing? So long as they swear not to say a word to Clio, I’ll tell them everything.’

  ‘Clio will find out, you know. She knows everything. Though she seems preoccupied at the moment.’

  ‘Maybe because of that wedding on the weekend. The long-time client who insisted she organise his daughter’s wedding—even though she hates weddings, as you know, and isn’t actually a wedding planner.’

  ‘Maybe that’s it. I’m waitressing at that wedding; are you rostered on?’

  ‘No, thank heavens. Otherwise I would have had to cancel to be free for the Butterfly Ball. And I don’t want to mess Clio around.’

  ‘The good news for you is that we’re going down to Surrey tomorrow to start setting up for the wedding on Saturday. That means Clio won’t be at the Butterfly Ball to spot you with Lukas. You know her rules about dating clients.’

  Ashleigh swore under her breath. ‘I sure hope the girls are good at keeping secrets.’

  Sophie smiled enigmatically. ‘Don’t worry. We’re all very good at that.’

  Ashleigh didn’t have time to demand an explanation about what secrets Sophie could possibly be keeping when Emma and Grace arrived at the café.

  She stood up to greet them in a flurry of cheek kisses and hugs. It wasn’t often the four friends were rostered all together on the same jobs for Maids in Chelsea and so they were determined to make the most of this opportunity to catch up in their own time.

  Ashleigh had been a little in awe of gorgeous blonde Emma with her posh accent when she’d first met her. But now she couldn’t imagine not being friends with her. They’d bonded at a b
ig party where they’d all been waitressing and Emma had panicked at seeing her ex there. Her ex, whom she’d said was her teenage boyfriend but had actually turned out to be her secret teenage husband—the son of a marquess and now the Earl of Redminster in his own right. Their reconciliation had been cause for drama and played out in front of the media. But Emma was really happy now with her beloved Jack. Of course, as the Countess of Redminster, Emma was no longer working as a waitress. But she was the kind of girl who liked to keep her friends close.

  ‘Am I meant to curtsey?’ Ashleigh joked as she said hello. ‘And do we call you Lady Emma now? Or Lady Redminster? You know we Aussies aren’t up on aristocratic etiquette.’

  ‘Of course not,’ said Emma in those cut-glass tones. ‘No curtseying and I’m just Emma, as I’ve always been.’

  ‘Have you ordered?’ asked Grace. ‘I’ve been looking forward to coffee and cake.’

  ‘Just coffees,’ said Ashleigh.

  ‘We were waiting for you guys,’ said Sophie.

  ‘Sorry we were a little late,’ said Grace. ‘You know how much I love Christmas decorations. I was admiring the way the square is decorated. And there are some fabulous festive knick-knacks in the shops too.’

  Ashleigh had found willowy, brown-haired Grace quite shy when she’d first met her but had soon discovered the warm, generous person behind her gentle smile. People had warned her London could be a hostile place—she was so lucky to have made such wonderful new friends here.

  ‘Shall we look at the cake menu?’ Ashleigh asked. ‘Choose whatever you want. Because morning coffee is on me—or rather on my pretend billionaire boyfriend.’

  When the squeals had died down, Emma and Grace demanded to know more.

  ‘We had no idea what to think when you asked us to help you shop for a gown for the Butterfly Ball,’ said Emma.

  Ashleigh proceeded to give them an edited version of how she came to be Lukas Christophedes’s fake date. She left out her presence in his bathtub and her unsettling urge to kiss him last night. She hadn’t admitted that even to Sophie. ‘So I need a ball gown for tonight and Lukas is so relieved he doesn’t have to hang around in shops with me he told me to treat my friends to lunch,’ she concluded.

  ‘That’s great about the lunch,’ said Grace. ‘What worries me is you having been stranded in the middle of London after the party on Sunday with nowhere to stay,’ she added with a frown.

  Ashleigh shrugged. ‘I was meant to be catching the bus with Sophie but she disappeared on me. What actually did happen, Soph?’

  ‘Er...I waited for you at the bus stop then thought you must have made other arrangements,’ said Sophie, looking a bit shamefaced, her brown eyes looking down at her coffee cup.

  ‘That’s not like you, Sophie,’ said Grace.

  ‘I’ll let you off the hook this time,’ said Ashleigh. But something about Sophie’s expression didn’t sit right. She’d ask her again later what had happened that night.

  ‘So that means you’re definitely not going home to Australia for Christmas?’ Emma asked after they’d ordered coffee and a selection of decadent-looking cakes.

  ‘That’s right,’ Ashleigh said.

  ‘I’m so glad you’ll be around in the next few weeks,’ said Emma. ‘Because—’ she paused dramatically ‘—Jack and I have decided to renew our wedding vows and I want you all to be my bridesmaids.’

  Shrieks of delight greeted her announcement but while Ashleigh uttered heartfelt congratulations she remained subdued.

  ‘Are you okay with that, Ashleigh?’ asked Emma.

  ‘I’m honoured,’ said Ashleigh. ‘But we’ve only known each other a few weeks and I don’t want you to think you have to ask me because you’ve asked the others.’

  ‘You should know by now I don’t do anything I think I have to do. I want you there.’ Emma sounded her most imperious countess.

  ‘In that case, I would be delighted to be your bridesmaid,’ Ashleigh said, blinking back sudden tears.

  ‘Where are you going to hold the ceremony, Emma?’ asked Grace.

  ‘Do you remember we scouted out that funky boutique hotel not far from here, The Daphne?’ Emma asked. ‘We’ve booked there.’

  ‘Perfect,’ breathed Grace.

  Emma turned to Sophie. ‘Sophie, I would love it if you could make my wedding dress—I didn’t have one for the “real” wedding. And the bridesmaid dresses, of course. There’s you three, and my friend and sister-in-law Clare will be chief bridesmaid.’

  ‘There’s nothing I’d love more,’ said Sophie. ‘But Emma, you could have a top designer. You’re a countess. Honestly, I won’t be offended if you choose to do that.’

  ‘But I want you,’ Emma said. ‘Not only do I think you’ll give me just the look I want, the wedding will give you good exposure too. We want to keep it small and private but we’ll have to release some photos to the media. The thing is, the ceremony is six days from today so I know it’s a big ask. Jack and I had planned to wait till the new year, but really what’s the point? We can’t wait to make it official all over again.’

  ‘I can get the dresses done. Even if I have to stay up every night.’

  ‘No need for that,’ said Emma. ‘We’ll need to get you some assistance.’

  Ashleigh looked at Sophie and saw the glint of tears in her eyes too. This could be the break her friend needed.

  ‘We should have champagne,’ said Grace, her voice also not quite steady.

  ‘There’ll be time enough for champagne,’ said Emma. ‘Right now we need to help Ashleigh find a gown for the Butterfly Ball. King’s Road, you said, Ashleigh?’

  Ashleigh nodded. King’s Road was lined with fabulous shops. She’d been captivated by the windows every time she’d walked by.

  ‘Not so fast,’ said Sophie. ‘King’s Road and here, The Duke of York Square, do have amazing shops. But time is short. I think we need to look at a designer runway collection for Ashleigh’s night at a ball with a billionaire. That means changing direction and heading for Sloane Street.’

  Ashleigh didn’t have a clue what a designer runway collection was, but it sounded exciting—and exclusive. That was what Lukas would want—and she really wanted to play her role for him as best as she possibly could.

  It was only a hop and a skip through Sloane Square to Sloane Street—another of London’s exclusive shopping streets that ended up in Knightsbridge, home to the posh department stores Harrods and Harvey Nichols.

  ‘I’ve got the credit card, girls, and I know how to use it,’ Ashleigh said. ‘Let’s finish our coffee and go shopping.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  LUKAS DIRECTED HIS driver to stop the car outside the imposing entrance to one of London’s most famous grand hotels, the venue for the night’s Butterfly Ball. The limousine was at the head of a line of chauffeur-driven luxury vehicles and taxis dropping off guests all dressed to the nines in the requisite formal wear.

  ‘Ready?’ Lukas asked as he opened Ashleigh’s door.

  ‘Shifting right into girlfriend mode as we speak,’ she said.

  As she emerged from the car he caught his breath at how beautiful she looked. She wore an exquisite silk gown in shades of lavender, topped with a theatrically flamboyant ivory velvet cloak lined with purple. Her hair was piled up on her head with little tendrils escaping to fall down her slender pale neck, purple stones glittered at her ears. They should be real jewels. But she could not have chosen anything more perfect for her colouring and for the occasion.

  Once more she looked the part he had cast her in, exceeding all expectations with a new level of sophistication and elegance. He could not keep his eyes off her.

  ‘You look magnificent,’ he said as he offered her his arm. He ached to say more—so much more—but had to remind himself that they were both playing
roles. It was strictly business.

  ‘All thanks to your credit card,’ she murmured, tucking her hand into his elbow. The action brought her close, so close he could breathe in her sweet scent, feel the warmth of her body. He kept her by his side as they walked into the ornate foyer of the hotel with its show-stopping Christmas tree that soared to the ceiling.

  ‘Thanks also to your good taste,’ he said. ‘No amount of money can buy that.’ Not to mention her innate grace and style—which he’d spotted even when she’d been wearing jeans and trainers. He’d said she should do him proud—and she’d done that in spades.

  ‘You look magnificent yourself,’ she said, her dimples flirting in her cheeks. ‘Born to wear a tuxedo.’ Her compliment pleased him. The women he usually dated were all about accepting compliments—and anything else they could grab from him—rather than bestowing them.

  ‘Nobody is looking at me, I assure you,’ he said. ‘All eyes are on my beautiful date.’

  ‘I feel like a princess,’ she said. ‘When I look in the mirror, I can’t believe it’s me looking back.’

  ‘You outshine any princess,’ he said. Did he really say that? He wasn’t usually so fulsome. He was rewarded with a display of her dimples.

  ‘I know you’re only saying that as part of the act, but thank you,’ she said. ‘It’s just the clothes—you know what they say: clothes maketh the pretend girlfriend.’

  He’d meant every word of the compliment. It was an effort to keep the conversation at a superficial level when he found it difficult not to stare at her in admiration. ‘You shopped well,’ he said.

  ‘I had enthusiastic help,’ she said.

  It had been the right thing to do but Lukas had regretted letting Ashleigh go out yesterday with her girlfriends instead of him. He could not admit to the time he’d spent imagining her coming out of a fitting room and asking him for his reaction, What do you think? Then imagining what it would be like to show her what he thought. He should have been there with her.

  The truth was, he’d missed her. Even though she was now living legally in his house, he hadn’t seen much of her. He suspected she’d kept purposefully out of his way and then she’d been at the hairdresser all afternoon. The house had seemed so empty without her.