The Billionaire's Trophy

The Billionaire's Trophy
LYNNE GRAHAM

On his arm… What is his intern’s photo doing on an escort website?Bastian Christou doesn’t know if he’s more surprised by her double life or her stunning photo – she’s kept those curves well hidden! He has an ex-fiancée to keep at bay, and Emmie Marshall might just be the best armour money can buy. And in his bed?Emmie is outraged when Bastian, her uncompromising boss, confronts her. She had no idea her photo was online.But his cheque’s been cashed and he’s come to collect his prize… A weekend in Greece. With her. Alone.Their relationship might be fake, but Emmie’s trepidation is all too real!‘Fast-paced and always dramatic, another 5* for Lynne!’ – Alex, 37, Shropshire www.lynnegraham.com

‘I realised that you were the perfect match for my requirements,’ Bastian fielded with characteristic cool. ‘However, if you don’t want to do it return the fee and we’ll say no more about it.’

Bastian strolled forward, his lean, darkly handsome features infuriatingly calm and assured. He was disturbingly graceful in motion, with not a visible ounce of tension in his big powerful frame as he stepped unexpectedly into her space.

‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’ Emmie gasped, overpowered by his proximity and totally disconcerted by his behaviour.

‘Maybe I want to see what I was paying for,’ Bastian said succinctly, indifferent to whether or not he caused offence. After all, wasn’t he hiring her to do a job?

‘You haven’t bought me…you can’t buy what isn’t for sale!’ Emmie flung back at him in fierce rejection.

‘Yet I’ve still managed to buy your time for the whole of one weekend.’ Bastian savoured the fact, dark eyes glittering golden as hot sunlight below level black brows.

A BRIDE FOR A BILLIONAIRE

The men who have everything finally meet their match!

The Marshall sisters have carved their own way in the world for as long as they can remember. So if some arrogant billionaire thinks he can sweep in and whisk them off their stilettos he’s got another think coming!

It will take more than a private jet and a wallet full of cash to win over these feisty, determined women. Luckily these men enjoy a challenge, and they have more than their bank accounts going for them!

Read Kat Marshall’s story in

A RICH MAN’S WHIM May 2013

Read Sapphire Marshall’s story in

THE SHEIKH’S PRIZE June 2013

This month read

Emerald Marshall’s story in

THE BILLIONAIRE’S TROPHY

About the Author

LYNNE GRAHAM was born in Northern Ireland and has been a keen Mills & Boon

reader since her teens. She is very happily married, with an understanding husband who has learned to cook since she started to write! Her five children keep her on her toes. She has a very large dog, which knocks everything over, a very small terrier, which barks a lot, and two cats. When time allows, Lynne is a keen gardener.

Recent titles by the same author:

THE SHEIKH’S PRIZE (A Bride for a Billionaire)

A RICH MAN’S WHIM (A Bride for a Billionaire)

A RING TO SECURE HIS HEIR

UNLOCKING HER INNOCENCE

Did you know these are also available as eBooks?Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

The Billionaire’s Trophy

Lynne Graham

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

CHAPTER ONE

SEBASTIANO CHRISTOU, KNOWN as Bastian to his many friends and acquaintances, studied the huge emerald ring in his hand with seething frustration blazing in his dark golden eyes, his lean darkly handsome features settling into forbidding lines of hauteur. He was holding the Christou betrothal ring, which had, until very recently, adorned the hand of his intended wife, Lilah Siannas.

Ironically, Lilah had not voiced a single word of reproach concerning the terms of the pre-nup agreement presented to her lawyer. Instead, while leaving the pre-nup unsigned, Lilah had become irritatingly unavailable and distant but her burning resentment had ultimately triumphed, culminating in her public statement that the engagement was over and the wedding cancelled. And ever since then Lilah had been noisily painting the town red in the company of a good-looking toyboy millionaire.

Bastian was well aware that Lilah was throwing down a gauntlet she expected him to pick up. He was supposed to be jealous: yet he was not. He was supposed to feel foolish: but he did not. He was supposed to want her so much that he would forget about the pre-nup: only he did not. No, Lilah was playing a losing game for Bastian would never marry a woman without first securing his wealth with a pre-nup agreement. That was a lesson learned well at his grandfather’s knee.

His father had married four times and his three incredibly expensive divorces had decimated the Christou family fortune. Bastian’s grandfather had taught his grandson that love was unnecessary in a successful marriage and that shared goals and principles were more important. Bastian had never been in love but he had often been in lust. Lilah, a tiny exquisite brunette, had excited his need to chase and possess but he had never kidded himself that he loved her. Indeed before he proposed, he had evaluated Lilah’s worth much as though she were an investment. He had recognised the advantage of their similar backgrounds; he had admired her unemotional outlook, excellent education and her skills as a society hostess. But, as he now grimly reminded himself, he had seriously underestimated the strength and pulling power of his fiancée’s avarice.

Bastian thrust the ring back in its case and put it in the safe, angry at the months he had wasted on Lilah, a woman demonstrably unfit to be his wife. He was thirty years old, more than ready to marry and have a family, bored with casual affairs. He had not realised that finding a wife would be such a challenge and he was already wondering how the hell he was supposed to avoid a scene at his sister, Nessa’s wedding in two weeks’ time because Lilah was one of Nessa’s bridesmaids. Lilah would be outraged when Bastian didn’t, at least, try to win her back. She would relish being the focus of all eyes at the wedding and would delight even more in a confrontation, but Bastian did not want his baby sister to be embarrassed or upset on her special day. The only way of avoiding that danger would be for him to arrive with another woman on his arm, for Lilah was too proud to overlook such a statement.

But at this late stage where on earth would he find another woman to act as his partner throughout a weekend of family festivities? A woman who wouldn’t try to trap him into a relationship and who wouldn’t read more than he meant into his invitation? A woman nonetheless capable of pretending to be intimately involved with him, for nothing less would keep Lilah at a distance. Did such a perfect woman exist?

‘Bastian…?’ He spun round as one of his directors strode in with a laptop beneath his arm. ‘I’ve got something amusing to show you—are you in the mood?’

Bastian was not in the mood but Guy Babington was a good friend and he forced a smile to his hard mouth. ‘Always,’ he encouraged.

Guy opened the laptop on the desk and spun it round to display the screen to Bastian. ‘There…recognise her?’

Bastian studied the photo of a stunning blonde with bright blue eyes in a party dress. She was laughing into the camera. ‘No…should I?’

‘Take another look,’ Guy urged. ‘Believe it or not, she works for you.’

‘No way…I would’ve noticed her,’ Bastian instantly declared because she was such a beauty. ‘What’s her picture doing on the Internet? Are you on Facebook?’

Amused, Guy shook his head. ‘I’m on a website advertising a business called Exclusive Companions. It’s an escort agency for professionals, very exclusive,’ he said, rolling his eyes suggestively.

Bastian frowned, his sensual mouth curling a little with distaste. ‘Do you use escorts?’

‘I wouldn’t mind using this blonde,’ Guy confided, ducking the question with a lascivious look.

Bastian elevated an ebony brow. ‘You said she worked for me—’

‘She does—as an intern on a three-month placement on this floor. Emmie…she does research for your PA.’

Astonishment gripped Bastian as he turned his attention back to the screen. ‘That’s Emmie?’ he queried in disbelief, mentally flicking up an image of the young woman as she looked at work: hair tied back, specs anchored on her nose, dowdy clothes. Still frowning, Bastian zeroed his attention in on the dark mole on the centre of the blonde’s cheek as he recalled that the intern had the same beauty mark in the identical place. ‘Diavelos…that is her! She’s actually moonlighting as an escort?’