Reunited By The Greek's Vows

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#u7ad43fd0-1783-52eb-bd58-3d952ad18fcd)

KATE FROZE, THE bottle of champagne foaming in her hand. Oh, please no! Not him—not here! She screwed up her eyes, praying that when she opened them again he would have miraculously vanished. But, no. He was still there, and the shock of his presence was ringing in her ears, blotting out everyone else in the room.

Watching as if in slow motion horror, Kate saw him lean back to address the overly attentive waitress. Broodingly handsome, all sculpted features and olive skin, his broad shoulders and towering height were carried with that familiar, athletic grace. Nikos Nikoladis. Her first love. Her ex-fiancé. The man who had broken her heart.

‘Hey, honey, careful with that champagne.’ A diner at Kate’s table reached out to steady her hand. ‘If you knew what it cost you might treat it with a bit more respect.’

As the other men snickered in agreement Kate forced herself to apologise, holding a rictus grin that threatened to break her jaw as she refilled their glasses. She didn’t know exactly what it cost, but she did know it was a vastly over-inflated price, designed to feed their self-importance rather than please their palates. The enormous egos and choking testosterone of the herd of fat-cat businessmen here tonight made it hard to breathe.

But that was why she was here. Why she had signed up to this agency specialising in corporate hospitality. Why she had wriggled into a short black skirt that barely covered her butt and the horrible faux leather waistcoat now pulling tight across her bust. Because if there was the slightest chance that she might be able to persuade one of these arrogant jerks to invest in her ailing family business then she was going to take it. And if that meant she had to play waitress at this godawful event, flirt a little with these people, massage their massive egos, then so be it. As long as they knew that was the only thing she’d be massaging.

Because desperate times called for desperate measures. And, boy, was Kate desperate. And that had been even before the mortifying reappearance of her ex-fiancé.

Lowering her head, she let a curtain of blonde hair fall across her face, then took another peek in his direction, refusing to acknowledge the quickening of her heart. Engrossed in conversation with the CEO of a major corporation on his left, Nikos didn’t appear to have spotted her. That, at least, was some consolation. And he wasn’t seated at one of her designated tables in this vast hotel dining room, for which she was supremely grateful.

With a bit of luck she might be able keep her back to him and avoid being seen. Her new hairstyle would help her—the tumbling blonde curls were very different from the sleek mane of chestnut hair belonging to the Kate he had once known.

Refusing to panic, Kate squashed down her instinct to turn tail and run. Much as she wanted to tell the agency what they could do with their sleazy job, its degrading outfit and its horrible, predatory guests, the fact was that even if trying to persuade one of them to invest in Kandy Kate was a ludicrously naïve idea, this was still well-paid work with the potential for healthy tips and she needed the money.

There were over three hundred diners here tonight, and at least thirty waitresses. As long as she kept her wits about her she should be able to avoid Nikos. She would avoid him. Because coming face to face with him when she was dressed like a backstreet hooker was one humiliation she could firmly do without.

What was he even doing here? She shot him another surreptitious glance from beneath heavy lashes. She would never have put Nikos down as the sort of man who would attend this type of do—even if it was a charity event. But then she would never have thought he was the kind of guy to rip her life apart the way he had. To be capable of such abject cruelty. She had no idea who Nikos really was at all.

What she did know was that she had totally lost her heart to this man. To the gorgeous Greek Adonis who had waited on her table that warm summer’s evening in Crete three long years ago. The handsome, charming, captivating stranger who had walked along the beach with her, taking her hand, kissing her under the stars, turning her upside down and inside out there and then with a crazy sort of love that she’d thought only existed in stories.

That summer had been the most wonderful time of her life. And the hurt that had followed more excruciating than she would ever have imagined possible.

So why was she surprised that he would frequent this sort of event? He was certainly wealthy enough. In fact, he could probably buy out most of these guys and scarcely make a dent in his multi-billion-dollar fortune.

Kate had watched his meteoric rise to enormous wealth from afar. The carefree, laid-back guy she’d fallen in love with, who hadn’t had two cents to rub together when she’d met him, had become a billionaire businessman almost overnight. In the blink of a red-rimmed eye.

Whereas, of course, her fortunes had done the reverse. Her family’s well-established confectionery business, Kandy Kate, had been crippled by a series of bad decisions since her father had died. But Kate was absolutely determined that was going to change. She was going to save Kandy Kate if it was the last thing she did. Because it was her father’s legacy, named in her honour. It had meant everything to him. And for that reason it meant everything to her.

‘Hey, baby, I’m dying of thirst over here!’

More raucous laughter around the table snapped Kate back to the job she was supposed to be doing.

‘Get that pretty little ass of yours around here and refill my glass.’

‘Yes, sir, of course.’ Silently seething, Kate cautiously sidled around the table, keeping her back to Nikos as best she could.

‘Whassup, honey? You scared of me?’ The man stretched out his arm, snaking it around Kate’s waist to pull her closer. ’Cos you know, there ain’t no need for that. I’m nice as pie. You ask anyone.’ More drunken hee-hawing. ‘Why don’t you come sit on my lap and I’ll show you just how nice I can be?’

Taking a step back, Kate gripped the neck of the champagne bottle tightly enough to throttle it. It was a poor substitute for what she would have liked to throttle, but it would have to do.

‘I’m not paid to sit down.’ She feigned a light-hearted remark through gritted teeth.

‘No? Well, I’m sure we could make it worth your while. Whaddya you say, guys?’

The man lurched forward, knocking Kate off balance so that she stumbled, falling towards him. She tried to right herself, to pull away, but he was too strong for her and before she knew it he had tugged her firmly down onto his lap, spreading his legs to accommodate her, his alcohol-soaked breath belching into her face. And when he adjusted his position, pressing her down onto his crotch, she genuinely thought she was going to be sick.

No job was worth this. No amount of money would compensate for being treated like a piece of meat.

For God’s sake Kate, she told herself, dragging in a breath, have a bit of self-respect.

But she mustn’t make a scene. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself—not with Nikos across the other side of the room. Extricating herself as carefully as possible, her stomach roiling as her movement only served to arouse her captor more, she put the champagne bottle down on the table and started to lever herself away from him.

‘Oh, no, you don’t.’ He pulled her back down, his foul breath in her ear. ‘I’m just startin’ to enjoy myself. You can probably tell...’

* * *

From the other side of the glittering dining room, Nikos narrowed his eyes, turning in his chair to get a better look. Something about that young woman was very familiar, making him stare long and hard. Making his pulse beat faster too, if he would but admit it. It couldn’t be...could it?

He’d watched as she moved around her table, filling the glasses of rowdy guests who had already had way too much. With her back to him, and quite some distance away, he didn’t have much to go on—and the mane of blonde curls was telling him he must be mistaken. But as he’d watched she had raised a hand to touch her earlobe, tugging on it gently in an unconscious display of vulnerability the way he had seen her do a hundred times before.

And then Nikos had known without a shadow of doubt.

It was her.

Kate O’Connor.

He’d sat back in his chair, waiting for his heart-rate to steady. Of all the gin joints... It almost felt as if he’d conjured her up from his mind. Because Kate O’Connor had been very much on his mind lately. Hadn’t he had just flown five thousand miles to see her? The prospect of ambushing her in her office the following morning had brought him a twisted sort of pleasure that had made the journey almost enjoyable.

And now here she was, right in front of him, a vision in tart’s clothing. Never would he have expected to find Kate in a place like this, looking like that. He wouldn’t be here himself if he hadn’t been talked into it by a business associate who had insisted they would talk shop over dinner. One look at the place and he’d almost turned around there and then. But something had made him stay. It must have been a sixth sense.

Unable to tear his gaze way, Nikos had watched on as one guy had slid an arm around Kate’s waist, pulling her closer. He’d felt his hands ball into fists. Steady, now. This was none of his business. Maybe it was all part of the service.

He had waited for some sense of satisfaction to kick in, for a feeling of gratification at seeing what Kate had been reduced to to warm his dry bones. But, strangely, there was none to be had. Nikos could find no consolation in her downfall.

He wanted to. Badly. He wanted to enjoy every minute of this degrading spectacle—to revel in it and to feel it thawing the very core of him. A core that had hardened like stone in the years since their bitter break-up.

But now, as he watched her sliding onto some creep’s lap, the emotion rising in his gullet had nothing to do with comfort or consolation. It was pure rage—so bitter and acrid that it burnt his throat with its vicious bile.

Because Kate O’Connor was his. Or at least she soon would be.

Downing the last of his whisky in one burning gulp, Nikos forced himself to calm down. His every instinct was screaming at him to cross the room, haul Kate off the lap of that revolting sleazeball, fling her over his shoulder and carry her out of this place.

His body positively twitched with the effort of stopping himself. But stop himself he would. Because Nikos was cleverer than that. He was here to claim his ex-fiancée and finally she would do his bidding. She just didn’t know it yet. But right now, it was time to leave.