Blackmailed Into The Greek Tycoon's Bed

‘She was caught stealing…’

‘We were arguing!’ Xante interrupted. ‘This is her grandfather’s jewel; Karin does not like the fact that I have it on display, do you, darling?’ He watched her nervous swallow and smiled his black smile at her. ‘She feels it cheapens his memory.’

‘You’re Karin Wallis?’ The England captain winced in recognition. ‘Of course you are. I’m so sorry…’

‘You were not to know,’ Xante assured him, rapidly clearing things up as Karin sat there reeling. ‘Come.’ He offered her his hand, his face smiling; only she could see the dangerous glint in his eyes. ‘We’ll go upstairs and sort this out.’

She didn’t have much choice, but for an instant Karin actually considered calling the police back and confessing; anything was preferable to going up to this man’s room. She could sense his anger, sense danger, and for Karin it was terrifying. As they stood in the lift, his black eyes bored into her. She stood rigid, refusing to look at him, fingering the scar on her wrist and wondering how she could possibly extricate herself from this mess. Thinking of her sister Emily at boarding school, and the very public humiliation she would have suffered had Xante Rossi pressed charges.

‘Sit down,’ he ordered when they reached their destination, but not unkindly. He poured her a large glass of water from a jug and watched as she drank. He refilled her glass, before taking himself to his desk and sitting directly opposite her.

‘Are you okay?’

Funny, given the circumstances, that he cared enough to ask. But Karin was strangely touched that he had. ‘I’d like to apologise.’ She tried to look him in the eye, except she couldn’t. ‘For the misunderstanding.’

‘Karin.’ Xante halted her there. ‘We both know the truth, remember? You came here with every intention of stealing the rose.’

‘No.’ Karin pleated the hem of her skirt with her fingers, wondering how to possibly explain the moment of madness that had come over her. ‘I came here to talk with you. I’m supposed to be attending a function on Saturday at Twickenham to honour my grandfather. It was his rose, and I’m expected to bring it—only it was stolen from my home; I’ve been trying to track it down…’ Karin knew that if she were strapped to a lie detector it would be smoking now. Could almost see the needle waving frantically as she spoke, and, worse, she knew that Xante knew she was lying. ‘I never intended to steal it, it was…’ His black eyes just stared and she willed him to halt her, but he didn’t. ‘It was just on impulse. I’m probably not making much sense.’

‘Take your time.’ Xante gave her a thin smile. ‘I’m not in any rush.’

‘I’m sorry, okay?’

‘For lying or for stealing?’

‘I’m telling the truth.’

‘Could I just say something here?’ Xante stared at the top of her head as she lowered her burning face. ‘I believe handling stolen goods is an offence—have you heard of that, Karin?’

‘Yes.’

‘Which is one of the reasons I am extremely careful in all the acquisitions I make. This is all rather worrying; my buyer is normally meticulous with his background checks.’ He stood up and headed over to a filing cabinet, chatting politely, but all the while twisting the knife. ‘You reported the theft of the rose to the police, I assume?’

Bastard!

The word boiled inside her. Sitting up in the chair, she lifted her head, her chin set in defiance; she refused to let him see her shame.

He handed her a sheet of paper, but Karin didn’t take it. She didn’t even look at it; she knew exactly what was written there. ‘Is that your signature?’

‘I thought I was signing just for the painting,’ Karin attempted, but she knew it was hopeless. What would he care that Matthew had duped her? Why sit and shame herself further by admitting that she was trying to run a stately home on an assistant’s wage, and that they’d agreed to sell the painting to pay for Emily’s school feels because there was no money left?

‘So it wasn’t, as you earlier said, stolen?’ Xante persisted.

‘Clearly not.’

‘So it is mine?’

She ground her teeth together. It wasn’t his; technically, legally, it was his, but still she couldn’t bring herself to admit it.

‘It is mine, Karin,’ he answered when she didn’t. ‘You sold it, and just because you’ve suddenly changed your mind, just because you’re a spoilt little rich girl used to taking whatever she wants and getting her own way, it doesn’t alter the fact that the rose now belongs to me. Had you chosen to discuss this rationally, then maybe we could have come to some agreement.’

Xante stared at the rose on his desk, and wondered what had possessed her to part with it in the first place. He couldn’t believe the beautiful, elegant woman that had walked into his hotel less than an hour ago had so easily fooled him.

‘I made a mistake today.’ Her voice was as clear as a bell now. Karin was frantically trying to regain control, to salvage what she could from this appalling situation, but she refused to bow to tears. She was sitting straight in the chair, her hands neatly in her lap, staring back at him as if she were the one conducting the interview. ‘The rose means a lot to the Wallis family; there is a lot of history behind it. I don’t expect you understand.’

‘Why?’ A small coil of black smoke seemed to be rising inside him. Any sympathy that had doused his anger evaporated, as so coolly she stared back at him.

‘There’s a lot of tradition.’

‘Karin.’ He halted her there and then. ‘Greeks have tradition and history too, but in any culture a thief is a thief.’

‘Will you press charges?’

‘I am not going to waste the police’s time again.’

‘What about the rose?’ Karin asked, but Xante just smiled.

‘Ah, that’s right, you have a function next Saturday.’ He appeared to think about it, his shrewd eyes narrowing for a moment, and then he merely shrugged. ‘I will make a deal with you. You give me your number, and if it goes back on the market you’ll be the first to know.’

It was pointless, because she couldn’t afford it anyway, but rather than admit that she duly wrote her number down.

‘Well, thank you.’ She couldn’t believe she was getting away so lightly, but even as she made to stand she soon realised her mistake.

‘I haven’t finished yet, Karin.’

‘I don’t see that there’s anything else to discuss…’

‘Oh, but there is.’ There were several women waiting for Xante’s summons, all vying for their place on his arm tonight—but Xante suddenly felt it appropriate that he arrive tonight with Henry Wallis’s granddaughter on his arm. He told himself it had nothing to do with the instant flare of approval he had seen in the England captain’s eyes when he had realised who Karin was.

‘There is a formal dinner here tonight in aid of charity.’ He watched a frown deepen between her brows—a rare pleasure to observe these days compared to the botoxed dates that usually graced his arms. ‘Given I have just implied to everyone that you are my mistress, there is no other way.’

‘You want me to go to dinner with you?’

‘No,’ Xante corrected. ‘There was someone I wanted to take to dinner tonight, but due to the circumstances, unfortunately, it now has to be you.’

‘But why would you take me? I tried to steal…’

‘You would have to be extremely stupid to try again. Anyway, you have left me with no choice. There is no question of my going alone and, thanks to your performance downstairs, it is now assumed we are an item.’

‘And it’s just dinner?’ Karin checked.

‘In a moment you will no doubt go to tidy yourself…’ Xante mocked her with a black laugh. ‘And, when you do, please consider my vantage point when you posed that question. I can assure you, dinner will more than suffice!’

‘I’ll go home and get ready.’

He halted her as she stood. ‘Forgive me if I appear mistrusting, but you will get ready here, I think.’

‘I didn’t exactly come dressed for a five-star ball!’