At His Revenge: Sold to the Enemy / Bartering Her Innocence / Innocent of His Claim

There was a wistful note in her voice that sparked all the alarm bells in his head. Trained to detect vulnerability from a hundred paces so that he could give it a wide berth, Stefan cooled his voice.

‘Then this is clearly a case of mistaken identity because I’m never kind to women. I work really hard not to be or they start to expect it and the next thing you know they’re dropping hints about rings, wedding planners and a house in the country. Not my style.’

She smiled at that. ‘You were definitely kind to me. Without you I think I would have thrown myself overboard at that party. You talked to me for the whole night. You gave me hope.’

Stefan, all too aware that he was widely regarded as the executioner of women’s hopes, raised his eyebrows. He stared at that glorious hair and filed through his memory bank. ‘Definitely a case of mistaken identity. If I’d met you, we definitely wouldn’t have wasted a night talking. I would have taken you to bed.’

‘You told me to come back in five years.’

That news caught his attention and Stefan narrowed his eyes. ‘I’m impressed by my own restraint.’

‘My father would have killed you.’

My father would have killed you.

Stefan stared at her, his eyes sweeping her face for clues, and suddenly he stilled. Those beautiful washed-green eyes were a rare colour he’d only seen once before, hidden behind a pair of unflattering glasses. ‘Selene? Selene Antaxos.’

‘You do recognise me.’

‘Barely. Theé mou—’ His eyes swept her frame. ‘You’ve—grown.’ He remembered her as a gangly blonde who still had to grow into her lean body. An awkward teenager completely dominated by her overprotective father. A pampered princess never allowed out of her heavily guarded palace.

Stay away from my daughter, Ziakas.

It was the unspoken threat that had made him determined to talk to her.

Just thinking of the name Antaxos was enough to ruin his day and now here was the daughter, standing in his office.

Dark emotion rippled through him, unwelcome and unwanted.

He reminded himself that the daughter wasn’t responsible for the sins of the father.

‘Why are you dressed as a nun?’

‘I had to sneak past my father’s security.’

‘I can’t imagine that was easy. Of course if your father didn’t make so many enemies he wouldn’t need an entire army to protect him.’ Blocking the feelings that rose inside him, he stood up and strolled round his desk. ‘What are you doing here?’

The one thing he did remember from that night was feeling sorry for her and the reason he remembered it was because he so rarely felt sorry for anyone. He believed that people made their own choices in life, but he’d taken one look at her in all her leggy, uncomfortable misery and decided that being the daughter of Stavros Antaxos must be the shortest straw anyone could ever draw.

‘I’ll get to that in a minute.’ She bent down and caught hold of the hem of her habit. ‘Do you mind if I take this off? It’s really hot.’

‘Where did you get it? The local dressing-up shop?’

‘I was educated by the nuns on Poulos, the island next to ours, and they’ve always been very supportive. They lent it to me but there’s no point in keeping it on now I’m safe with you.’

Knowing that most women considered him anything but ‘safe’, Stefan watched in stunned disbelief as she wriggled and struggled until finally she freed herself and emerged with her hair in tangled disarray. Underneath she was wearing a white silk shirt teamed with a smart black pencil skirt that hugged legs designed to turn a man’s mind to pulp.

‘I almost boiled to death on the ferry. You have no idea. That’s why I couldn’t wear the jacket.’

‘Jacket?’

‘The jacket from my suit. It’s designed to be worn in an air-conditioned office, not a floating tin can which is how the ferry feels.’

Stefan wrenched his gaze from those bare legs, feeling as if he’d been hit round the head with a brick. Staring into those green eyes, he looked for some sign of the awkward teenage girl he’d met years before. ‘You look different.’

‘I should hope so. I hope I look like a businesswoman because that’s what I am.’ She slid her arms into a jacket that matched the skirt, scooped up her hair and pinned it with brisk efficiency. ‘When you met me five years ago I had spots and braces. I was hideous.’

She wasn’t hideous now. ‘Does your father know you’re here?’

‘What do you think?’

The corner of her mouth dimpled into a naughty smile and Stefan stared at that smile, hypnotised by her lips, trying to clear his mind of wicked thoughts.

‘I think your father must be having a few sleepless nights.’ The wicked thoughts still very much in play, he tried desperately to see her as she’d been that night on the boat. Young and vulnerable. ‘I should offer you a drink. Would you like a—’ he groped for something suitable ‘—a glass of milk or something?’

She pushed some loose strands of her hair away from her face in a gesture that somehow managed to be both self-conscious and seductive. ‘I’m not six. Do you often offer your visitors milk?’

‘No, but I don’t usually entertain minors in my office.’

‘I’m not a minor. I’m all grown up.’

‘Yes. I can see that.’ Stefan loosened his collar and discovered it was already undone. He wondered if the air-conditioning in his office was failing. ‘So—why don’t you tell me why you’re here?’

If she wanted him to ruin her father, they might yet find themselves with a common goal.

‘I’m here about business, of course. I have a business proposition.’

Huge eyes were fixed hopefully on his face and Stefan felt an instant pull of lust. The explosion of attraction was instant, unmistakable—and entirely inappropriate given the circumstances.

Apart from the obvious physical changes she still looked as innocent as she had that night on the boat. It would be asking for trouble. Even he wasn’t going to stoop that low.

‘I’m not known for doing favours for people.’

‘I know. And I’m not expecting a favour. I know a lot about you. I know you date different women all the time because you don’t want a relationship. I know that in business they call you all sorts of things, including ruthless and uncaring.’

‘Those are generally good traits to have in business.’

‘And you never deny any of those awful things they write about you. You’re happy to be portrayed as the big bad wolf.’

‘And yet still you’re here.’

‘I’m not afraid of you. You sat with me for seven hours and talked to me when no one else could be bothered.’ Folding the nun’s habit carefully, she leaned forward to stuff it into her bag, oblivious to the fact that the movement gave him a perfect view of the curve of her breasts above a hint of lacy bra.

Stefan made a valiant attempt to avert his eyes and failed. ‘You were sweet.’

He emphasised the word for his own benefit. If there was one thing designed to kill his libido it was ‘sweet’, so why the hell was he painfully aroused? And why was she looking at him with big trusting eyes when what he should have been seeing was an appropriate degree of caution?

Come into my house, Little Red Riding Hood, and close the door behind you.