Mediterranean Tycoons

It was Eloise’s turn to put her finger over his lips. ‘I really never slept with him.’

His mouth quirked in self-derision. ‘I know that. I think I’ve always known, but jealousy is a powerful emotion. And, if I’m honest, deep down you terrified me; it suited me to think of you as some kind of thief, because then I could deny the very real feelings I had for you. I could pretend you were just like all the other women I have known, self-seeking and greedy. If I once admitted you were different, I knew my bachelor days would be numbered. I told myself I was buying into KHE to help Ted and to get Theo’s money back, but I came to the opening of the Paris boutique, secretly hoping you would…’ He lifted an elegant bronzed shoulder. ‘I don’t know…fall at my feet in love and gratitude,’ he said wryly.

Eloise half smiled. His description was not far wrong; she very nearly had.

‘It wasn’t funny,’ Marcus murmured intently, brushing a caressing hand gently over her firm breast, as if compelled. ‘I ached to be like this with you again, but instead you looked at me like something you would scrape off the bottom of your shoe.’

Eloise sighed, stirring against him, and grinned. ‘That bad, hmm?’

This confession was certainly good for her soul, but she wasn’t so sure it was doing much for Marcus’s ego. ‘But you blackmailed me into your bed anyway,’ she prompted him.

‘By then I was determined to have you, and Ted had given me the lever, and to my shame I used it. Revenge is a very powerful emotion and I figured you owed my family.’

‘So when did you finally realise you loved me?’ She tried to sit up, and Marcus held her back down by simply rolling over her, his elbows either side of her shoulders and his hands cupping her head. The fully naked body contact and the warmth of his breath on her face made her lose her train of thought for a second.

A long kiss later, he stared into her emerald eyes. ‘I always have; I was going to marry you when you were nineteen, but you vanished. So I denied I loved you to myself. I thought it was a sign of weakness, and I kept on denying it.’ A dull tide of colour washed over his olive skin. ‘Until this morning, I looked at you and I knew I was fooling no one but myself. My control snapped and I probably made the least romantic marriage proposal known to man, and I dared not wait to hear your answer in case it was no.’

‘I liked it.’

‘Forgive me, Eloise, and marry me.’ She was stunned to see a trace of doubt in his night-black eyes. ‘I will look after you, protect you, and I know I can make you love me eventually or die trying.’

‘You won’t have to try. I do love you, Marcus, and the answer is yes.’

EPILOGUE (#ulink_8647abe5-e732-5d91-88d6-1fe7b2127c32)

KATY collapsed on to the bamboo cane sofa next to Harry. ‘Let the holiday begin; give me a drink quick.’

Eloise smiled and Marcus stood up and crossed to the drinks trolley. ‘What will it be, Katy—wine or something stronger?’

‘G and T. I need it.’

With a sigh of contentment, Eloise watched her husband of a month mix the drink. They had married in a simple ceremony in the island church, with close friends and family, plus every inhabitant of the island. Eloise had never been happier.

Her sparkling emerald eyes followed Marcus; he never failed to stir her. This evening he was wearing tailored shorts and a soft cotton shirt, and he was without doubt the most handsome sexiest man alive, and he loved her.

As if sensing her scrutiny, he handed Katy the glass and crossed to sit down next to her, slipping an arm around her shoulder, and squeezing gently. ‘All right, my love?’ he enquired huskily and, running the tip of his tongue along her pouting lips, he claimed them with a kiss.

‘Never better,’ she whispered back, her pulse speeding up, and for a moment wished she had not invited Katy and Harry to stay for a week.

‘You two are hopeless,’ Harry teased. ‘We came here on holiday, not to watch an X-rated show.’

Leaning back, Marcus chuckled. ‘Well, we are all adults here.’ Glancing with mocking intent around the terrace he added, ‘The little devil Benjamin has finally gone to bed, it seems.’

‘Yes, thank God.’ Katy sighed, taking a long swallow of her G and T.

‘I don’t suppose you’ve heard yet,’ Harry said, changing the subject. ‘It was in the paper last week; Rick Pritchard apparently got into a fight outside a pub in Dover. He was found in a back alley, badly beaten, and is now in intensive care. They reckon it was foreigners, probably illegal immigrants that did it, because they’ve all vanished. So you won’t have to worry about him any more.’

‘I never did worry about him,’ Marcus said smoothly. ‘His sort usually get what they deserve.’

Watching Marcus, Eloise had the strangest feeling he was not the least surprised by the news.

Later when they were alone in their bedroom, she leant against him, her hand toying with the waistband of his briefs. ‘Did you know about Pritchard?’ she asked huskily, her own breathing unsteady, as his hands slid up under the fine silk of her nightgown to curve around her bottom, urging her closer.

‘I would die if I lost you.’ Marcus groaned as her fingers traced the hard masculine length of him.

‘That’s no answer,’ she murmured unsteadily, glancing up and catching a flash of something that looked suspiciously like triumph in her indomitable husband’s eyes.

‘It’s the only one you need,’ Marcus growled and, sweeping off her nightgown, he carried her to the bed.

And he was right. Eloise sighed happily some time later, safe in his arms.

The Greek Tycoon’s Revenge (#ulink_0b378b48-2cf8-537c-8e58-af7f8ba14fc7)

PROLOGUE (#ulink_8dbfa7d8-d2e4-543c-b20a-1a0c5a9e9b9c)

ORION MORALIS—Rion to his friends—impatiently tapped his long fingers on the steering wheel of the powerful sports car. Athens was notorious for traffic snarl-ups, so it was no surprise he was stuck in one. He was going to be late for a damn dinner party he did not want to go to in the first place. It was his father’s fault, he mused.

Rion had arrived back from a two-month business trip to the USA late last night. At eight this morning his intercom had been activated and his father had breezed into his apartment.

‘To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?’ Rion had asked, and the answer had amazed him.

‘I had lunch with Mark Stakis yesterday, and he has agreed to sell his company at a really good price.’ He’d quoted a figure. ‘How about that?’ His dad had beamed. ‘I haven’t lost my touch yet.’

His father’s determination to take over the Stakis shipping line was becoming an obsession. Rion was not involved, but he knew the firm was worth a lot more than what Stakis was asking—the man was giving his business away. But his dad was obviously delighted. He was retiring in the autumn and this deal was to be his last—which was just as well, as his dad was definitely losing his mind if he believed the offer to sell at that price was genuine.

‘So what is the catch?’ he had prompted dryly.

‘Well, Stakis does have a couple of provisos. First, he wants a few shares in the Moralis Corporation instead of more cash. Second, he wants you to marry his granddaughter, so he will know someone of his blood will still be connected to the business that has been his life and his father’s before him after he is gone.’

Rion couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘Incredible.’ He shook his head. ‘I am not marrying any woman for years—if ever—and as for Stakis’s granddaughter, it would be a physical impossibility. The man doesn’t have a granddaughter. His son Benedict, his wife and teenage children were killed in a helicopter crash ages ago—or had you forgotten?’ he queried seriously.

‘No, of course not. It was a tragedy!’ his father declared indignantly.

Then his father told him the story. Benedict Stakis had fathered a child with an Englishwoman when his own wife had been pregnant with twins. Stakis had only discovered the existence of his illegitimate granddaughter after his son’s death. Apparently Benedict had persuaded the woman to keep quiet in exchange for setting up a trust fund with an English lawyer to provide for the child. Mark Stakis had finally met the girl, Selina Taylor, last September, and now she had finished school she was spending the summer in Greece with him.

‘You want me to marry a schoolgirl?’ Rion asked with a laugh, relieved his dad was not going senile. ‘You aren’t serious?’

‘I am serious, and it is not funny. The girl is not a child; she is nearly nineteen. She is staying at Stakis’s home in the city and he is holding a dinner party tonight to introduce her to society. We are all invited, so you can meet her and see what you think.’

‘No. I don’t need to think. Definitely not.’

‘At least meet her. This is too good a deal to pass up.’

But pass it up Rion had—adamantly—over and over again. Then his father had brought up some of Rion’s past ladyfriends, and a recent episode when Rion had been pictured in a tabloid outside a nightclub arguing with the paparazzi over a married lady who was no better than she should be, and had told him it was time he got himself a good woman instead of the bad he so obviously favoured.

His father had then hinted that he would have to think seriously of delaying his retirement and was not happy at the thought of leaving the business until he knew his son was settled.

His father was not averse to a bit of emotional blackmail … Yet they both knew Rion had, over the past few years, been the driving force behind the diversification from the original Moralis shipping line into the international company it was today. But Rion also knew his father’s doctor had warned him after his last heart attack to retire or suffer an early demise. Never mind the fact his stepmother, Helen, would be furious if she had to postpone the world cruise she had planned for his dad’s retirement in September.