Taming The Notorious Billionaire (HQR Presents)

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘And that’s another thing,’ he rasped. ‘You do realise that today of all days you’ll be stared at, wondered about, guessed about, that everyone will be curious to know who you are?’

  ‘It’s all right, Rod,’ she teased him. ‘I don’t mind being seen with you if you don’t mind being seen with me!’

  ‘You’re deliberately misunderstanding me,’ he shook her slightly, angry now. ‘I’m trying to point out to you that compared to that evening in the restaurant that you hated so much this is going to be a circus.’

  ‘Do you love me?’

  ‘You know I do,’ he bit out.

  ‘Then I’ll get through this,’ she smiled. ‘I can do anything if I know you love me.’

  ‘It wasn’t enough before.’

  ‘I didn’t know you loved me then,’ she reminded gently.

  ‘But you know and believe it now?’

  ‘I know and believe it now,’ she nodded. ‘And I refuse to be diverted. Is the car still waiting downstairs?’

  He smiled. ‘Probably. Keilly, I’ve never been so nervous in my life,’ he admitted with a groan. ‘Today has been the most tense day of my life, the Oscars, and waiting to see if you would get off that plane. Even though Barbie had telephoned me and assured me you were on it I still couldn’t believe it would happen.’

  ‘Did you think I had got off half way?’ she teased him, her eyes glowing with mischief.

  Her levity had the desired effect as he began to smiled. ‘With you one can never be sure,’ he derided.

  ‘Be sure,’ she nodded. ‘Now, let’s go,’ she said forcefully. ‘Before they give our seats to someone else.’

  ‘Now that’s a thought,’ he murmured as he allowed himself to be dragged out to the lift. ‘What will you do then?’

  ‘Stand at the back,’ she answered promptly.

  ‘Do they allow that sort of thing at the Oscar ceremonies?’ he taunted.

  ‘They do now,’ she decided.

  There were crowds of people lining the street outside the famous Chinese Theatre, eager fans all trying to get a look at their favourite star. Keilly felt her stomach somersault as the interest in the crowd rose to fever pitch as Rod’s many fans began to recognise him. As they stepped out of the car the cheer went up, people of all ages calling for Rod. Whatever nervousness he had betrayed earlier he hid it well now, smiling and waving to the crowd as he guided Keilly into the theatre, seeming unaware of the speculation that suddenly seemed rife.

  For Keilly walking through that crowd of people had been an experience she would never forget, the love and admiration that had emanated towards Rod enveloping her too.

  After that the whole evening became a magical experience, the audience a glitter of showbusiness entertainers, Rod familiar with most if not all of them, the friendliness once again extended to Keilly as his guest for the evening. She received smiles of acknowledgment from people who had only ever been big names to her, knew that no matter where else she went with Rod she would never forget the excitement and newness of this night.

  Rod’s hand tightened about hers as the nominees for Best Actor were read out, and when Keilly heard his competition she could understand his tension. Compared to a lot of them his ten years’ experience made him a newcomer!

  His smile seemed fixed to his lips as the television camera picked him up in the audience. ‘If they should happen to say my name,’ he told her stiffly. ‘And I don’t stand up, just kick me!’

  She smiled, squeezing his hand reassuringly, although she felt as tense as he did. But she didn’t have to kick him as his name was read out, received his excited kiss on the lips with surprised pleasure, her clapping as enthusiastic as everyone else’s as he went up to receive the award. She expected him to thank his fellow actors and the people who had worked with him on the film as most of the other lucky winners had done. Instead he stunned her by saying something else completely.

  ‘This is the best wedding present I could have received—besides my lovely fiancée, of course,’ he grinned. ‘Thank you.’

  It was an abrupt, and some would say gratifyingly short speech, compared to some of the lengthy ones that had gone before him, and yet it had much more impact than anything anyone else had said.

  Keilly’s smile was fixed on her lips as the cameras and audience all focused on her. And no wonder. She had had no warning of what Rod was going to say, was as surprised as everyone else by his announcement. Marriage was something she hadn’t dared hope for, just being with him would have been enough.

  ‘I have you trapped now,’ he murmured as he took his seat beside her, the attention now turning from them to the next award. ‘If you don’t marry me now everyone will know you jilted me.’

  ‘Who said anything about not marrying you?’ she arched dark brows.

  ‘You mean you will?’ his eyes glowed.

  ‘After that announcement I’d be a fool not to,’ her gaze was fixed demurely on the stage.

  His hand tightened on hers. ‘Let’s leave,’ he grated.

  Her mouth quirked. ‘You can’t take your Oscar and run!’ she reproved with amusement.

  ‘Why can’t I?’ he growled.

  ‘Because, Mr Roderick Richard Bartlett, I say you can’t!’

  He relaxed back with a grin. ‘Going to be a bossy wife, are you?’ he mused.

  ‘When I get the chance,’ she smiled.

  ‘That won’t be very often,’ he predictably murmured into her ear before sitting silently at her side to watch the rest of the awards.

  ‘We could have one to the party, if you had wanted to,’ she told him sleepily a couple of hours later, her head against his bare chest, the two of them back in the hotel suite now, curled up together in bed in the afterglow of their lovemaking. ‘I wasn’t too tired,’ she assured him.

  ‘It must be obvious by the way I rushed you back here that I wasn’t interested in the party! I had much more interesting plans in mind,’ he added mockingly.

  His chest rumbled beneath her ear as he spoke, her fingers idly caressing the dark hair on his chest. ‘Yes, calling my aunt and uncle was more interesting,’ she taunted him. They had talked to her aunt and uncle for half an hour when they got back to the hotel, Kathy and Peter there too to add their congratulations.

  ‘Witch!’ he laughed softly.

  ‘It was nice of you to call them,’ she said on a more serious note. ‘I know they were a little worried when I decided to rush off after you.’

  ‘And now they are going to have the wedding all organised for when we get back,’ his arms tightened about her.

  Keilly lifted her head to look at him uncertainly. ‘If you want to leave it for a while I’ll understand. It was an emotional moment for you when you accepted the Oscar, you can be forgiven for saying things you didn’t mean—’

  ‘I meant every word, Keilly,’ he interrupted firmly. ‘I would have asked you to marry me long ago if I could have cleared up the misunderstanding between us. But for quite a while I didn’t even know what it was!’

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t believe in you when you wanted me to,’ she mumbled.

  ‘Kathy is your cousin, as close as any sister would have been, of course you had to believe her.’

  ‘But I was coming to you before Kathy told me the truth,’ she told him quickly. ‘I had decided you couldn’t have done the things she accused you of.’

  ‘I know,’ he said gently. ‘Barbie told me about you coming here,’ he explained at her questioning look.

  Keilly snuggled against him. ‘She really is a very nice person. Do you think she and her husband would like to be godparents to our child?’

  ‘You’re planning our family already?’ Rod teased.

  She gave him a mocking look. ‘It may have escaped your notice, Mr Bartlett, but you certainly haven’t acted like a responsible lover tonight. We could already have started that family, completely unplanned, I might add.’

  For a moment he looked stunned, then his eyes darkened to a
n appreciative glow. ‘Maybe we should just make sure of that fact… If you aren’t too tired, of course?’

  She turned eagerly into his arms. ‘I’m never too tired for you. I never will be.’

  They could talk more tomorrow, when they didn’t need the reassurance of their physical love quite so badly, and then she would tell him about her mother and father. And together they could plan the wonderful life they were going to have together. Yes, tomorrow would be an exciting day. But nowhere near as exciting as here and now, in Rod’s arms, being loved by him.

  * * * * *

  Now, read on for a tantalizing excerpt of Michelle Smart’s next book,

  HIS GREEK WEDDING NIGHT DEBT

  It’s heart-stopping for architect Helena to learn that her mystery client is Theo Nikolaidis—her ex-fiancé! Unwilling to sacrifice her hard-fought independence, she ended their engagement, but memories of their passion were harder to leave behind…

  Theo has one goal: seeking vengeance on his runaway bride! Yet, their return to the Greek island they had planned to call home complicates everything. Theo can’t escape their past…or the intense connection that spectacularly reignites! Will this tycoon be tempted to re-write the rules of his revenge?

  Read on for a glimpse of

  HIS GREEK WEDDING NIGHT DEBT

  CHAPTER ONE

  HELENA ARMSTRONG GAVE her appearance one final look-over.

  MASCARA AND EYELINER intact and unsmudged? Check.

  Nude lipstick on the lips and not the teeth? Check.

  Thick chestnut hair secured in a professional bun at the base of the neck without any stray distracting strands? Check.

  Silver and blue swirl tailored A-line skirt clean and uncreased? Check.

  Black blouse clean and uncreased and no gapping around the bust? Check.

  Black tights ladder free? Check.

  Black heels clean if not easy to walk in? Check.

  Thick-framed spectacles fingerprint free? Check.

  Drawing tube ready to grab hold of? Check.

  Heartbeat under vague semblance of control…? Oh, well, a girl couldn’t have everything.

  Helena was as ready and prepared as she could be. It was time to make her first major pitch to a client. The blueprints she’d spent a month toiling over were ready to be unveiled to the mystery client who’d driven them all to distraction.

  The mystery client, who’d used lawyers up to this point to remain under the cloak of anonymity—which in itself had led to fevered speculation within the firm as to who he or she could be—had invited their firm and four others to pitch for the opportunity to design a house for him. Or her. This would be no ordinary house, nor even an ordinary mansion. The successful lead architect would be flown to a Greek island, name still to be revealed, and tasked with designing a thousand-square-metre villa in traditional Cycladic style from scratch. Each firm was to put forward an architect with an understanding of the Greek language and a leaning towards classical European architecture to pitch. Helena, who had a Greek mother and an adoration of classical architecture, fitted the bill perfectly for her firm. Her father’s cruel manner in forcing the Greek language on her had finally paid off.

  She’d swallowed her unease at the thought of having to work on an island that was part of the country she’d spent three years actively avoiding, and thrown herself into the pitch. She hadn’t fooled herself into thinking she had a chance of winning as no doubt she would be the youngest and least experienced but it was good practice and the successful pitch would be rewarded with a prize unlike any other. Not only would the successful firm make a good sum from it, but also the lead architect would receive a hefty signing-on bonus and a completion bonus, which together would enable Helena to write off her mountain of debt and have a little spare. All she’d been tasked to do for the pitch was show how she would turn an old Greek school into a trio of luxury holiday-let apartments.

  Helena headed through the open-plan layout to the boardroom with murmurs of ‘good luck’ ringing in her ears. The majority of the staff had watched her develop and mature from a naïve twenty-one-year-old graduate to a twenty-six-year-old architect.

  When she walked through the boardroom door, she was fortified to meet Stanley’s eye and be on the receiving end of an encouraging wink. She wanted desperately to make the architect who’d taken her under his wing five years ago proud. She’d worked under him for a year when she’d first graduated and he’d then made himself available whenever she needed him during her masters and ensured there was a place within his firm for her last year of work experience before she took her final exam. Stanley had been the one to create a permanent role for her when, after seven years of toil, she became a bona fide architect in her own right.

  Along with Stanley were the two other senior partners, a PA and the mystery client, whose back was to the door and who made no effort to turn and greet her.

  Her first thought was that the mystery client was a man.

  Her second thought was that the staff backing the mystery client’s being a celebrity were on the money because, even with his back turned, recognition flashed through her.

  Helena hurried to her designated seat opposite him, a warm, welcoming smile on her lips, and finally saw his face.

  And that was the moment all her thoughts turned to dust as her brain froze.

  The man sitting opposite her in the mystery client’s chair was Theo Nikolaidis. The same Theo Nikolaidis she’d jilted three years ago, twenty-four hours before they’d been due to marry.

  * * *

  Theo didn’t bother hiding the wide grin that formed on his lips.

  This moment, when he wiped the smile off Helena Armstrong’s face, was a moment to savour, a moment deserving of a glass of fine wine and, if he were a man for exquisite canapés, a plateful of them. As it was, Theo was a man who preferred hearty food but a huge bowl of his grandmother’s kokkinisto didn’t quite fit this picture-perfect moment.

  He rose to his feet and stretched out a hand, tilting his head expectantly. ‘Good morning, Helena,’ he said with an even wider smile and was rewarded by Helena’s beautiful face turning the colour of a sun-ripened tomato. ‘It is a pleasure to see you again.’

  He was quite sure he heard a collective intake of breath from the others in the room.

  If he had it in him to feel sympathy for the woman who’d made him a laughing stock, he was sure he could conjure some, but her panicking eyes darting from his gaze to his outstretched hand was another wonderful response to relish.

  After a pause that would be deemed impolite by anyone’s standards, a small, milky-white hand with short but shapely nails extended towards him. Her fingers wrapped around his for approximately a tenth of a second before she snatched them away. ‘Mr Nikolaidis,’ she murmured, taking her seat and putting her bag on the floor and the long tube on the table without looking at him.

  ‘You two know each other?’ The question came from one of the partners, a man who had to be old enough to be Helena’s father but who was looking at her with a stare that made Theo want to cause him bodily harm.

  Instead of allowing his hands to do the talking—Theo had learned to control that side of himself before he’d reached double digits—he smiled again and was rewarded by the older man paling. ‘Helena and I are old friends. Aren’t we, agapi mou?’

  That made her look at him. Her naturally plump lips were drawn into a tight line, her dark brown eyes sparking with fury.

  She thought she was angry now? This was only the beginning.

  Jerking her head into the semblance of a nod, she unscrewed the end of the tube and said, ‘Shall we get on with this?’

  Theo spread his hands. ‘Yes. Show me your designs. Let me see if you are as talented as I have been led to believe.’

  Her eyes narrowed before she finally plastered a wide, fake smile to her face. ‘You will have to be your own judge of that.’

  ‘Believe me, agapi mou, I learned the hard way that reputations are as dec
eptive as appearances.’ Helena was the root of that hardness. Easily the most beautiful woman he’d ever set eyes on, he’d met her on his home island of Agon. At an unexpected loose end for a few hours, he’d decided to pay a visit to his good friend Theseus Kalliakis, an Agon prince who, at the time, had lived in the palace. As it had been a beautiful day and Theo was a man who enjoyed the feel of the sun on his face, he’d decided to walk through the palace gardens to reach Theseus’s private residence. In the garden he’d spotted a young woman sitting on a bench beside a statue of the goddess Artemis with an open book on her lap and a pencil in hand. Crouched forward as she’d been, her dark chestnut hair had fallen like a sheet over her face and slender shoulders. She’d absentmindedly swiped it away and tucked it behind her ear, revealing a face that, even behind the largest pair of spectacles he’d ever seen, could in itself have been worshipped as a goddess.

  He’d sucked in the longest breath of his life and stared. And stared some more.

  Curiosity piqued as to what she was doing, he’d sneaked up behind her to peer over her shoulder. On an A4 sheet of paper was an intricately drawn study of the palace. It was beautiful. Using nothing but a set of graphite pencils, she’d brought the palace to life. She’d even managed to convey light bouncing off some of the windows!

  No wonder he’d been so smitten. A woman with beauty, talent and brains? He’d put her straight onto a pedestal and worshipped her as his countrymen had worshipped Artemis all those millennia ago.

  What a shame he’d forgotten scruples and honour were also wise things to select in the woman you intended to make your wife. He should have taken the statue who’d witnessed their first meeting as a warning sign. Artemis, one of the most revered of the ancient deities, had, according to legend, sworn never to marry.

  Unlike Artemis, Helena had failed to mention her aversion to matrimony until the day before they’d been due to exchange their nuptials in Agon’s cathedral. Fool that he was, he hadn’t believed her, thought her words were shouted in nerves and anger. Of course she’d be at the cathedral!

  Now, when Theo thought back on that time when Helena had broken his ego, he often thought he should thank her. He could have spent the past three years living a boring, settled life instead of re-embracing the hedonistic party lifestyle he’d been prepared to abandon for her. Truth be told, Helena’s jilting had set him free and he had made every moment of his freedom count…but only up to a point.