Kidnapped by the Greek Billionaire (12 page)

Bundling the washing against his chest, he nudged open the bedroom door with one foot and marched down toward the utility room. He hadn’t stepped foot in the annex since the building had been renovated, and now looked irritably around for the washing machine. Having located the top-of-the-line appliance and shoved in the linen, he paused for a moment to study the buttons, dials, and digital display on its control panel and frowned.

He rasped a large hand across his chin and felt a growl of frustration building up inside him—he didn’t have a clue how to work the damn thing.

It was his house, his bloody laundry room, and he was at a complete loss as to what to do next. It was ridiculous; any normal adult would be able to deal with it—he was sure Kizzy would know how to work this washing machine.

The way he had started to analyze his behavior and lifestyle in the last few days was becoming draining—taking him emotionally to places he would rather not be. He didn’t have answers for all the questions in his head, and it unnerved him, and Kizzy wasn’t reacting toward him in the way she should, in the way he had anticipated.

He couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t just let him look after her, give her a carefree life. One part of her wanted stability and security and another craved wild and reckless freedom—she didn’t know what she wanted, it seemed to him. But it had also come as little surprise that precious jewels and expensive holidays weren’t on her list of priorities; life had been very hard and very cruel to this woman so far.

He forced his brain away from thoughts of Kizzy and back into practical mode. He’d leave a note for Orfeas’s wife to sort out all the laundry and unpacking later, and
he would concentrate on sorting out Kizzy. He’d make her see sense.

Andreas glared at the washing machine once more before he left the room. Its large, round drum almost seemed to be laughing at him.

…

“You’ll be pleased to hear we’re staying for the week,” Andreas announced to Kizzy’s back as she stared across the infinity pool toward the glittering ocean.

“Pardon?” She turned to face him with a look of surprise.

“Yes,” he continued and rolled his shoulders enthusiastically. “I’ve cancelled everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yes.”

“So what about the contract, your diplomatic missions next week, and all the other stuff that’s made you so desperate to get your minions moving?”

“Cancelled. Well, not exactly. It’s time my senior executives started pulling their weight and earning their salaries. I have delegated all my commitments to them for the next seven days.”

“But, Andreas, you made me come here because of your ridiculous gag order. You can’t just cancel it!”

“Things have changed.”

Kizzy crossly placed her hand on her hips and cocked her head to one side. “Because we’re lovers now?”

“Yes,” he agreed stiffly. “With regard to the contract—it’s not something I feel necessary any more.”

“Well, that’s all right then.”

“I said that I don’t feel it’s necessary but if you do, of course, then you can name your terms and it will be done.”

“I never wanted it in the first place, remember? It’s unnecessary.”

“So you trust me?”

“I’ve already said I do.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Andreas replied softly, and an unusual feeling of light-headedness washed over him. “Your swimwear is on your bed—get into it and join me back here. It’s time both of us had the opportunity to behave normally again. Do you realize how long it’s been since I swam in the Aegean?”

“Tell me.”

“It’s been so long that I can’t remember.” Which was a lie, he noted inwardly. It had been shortly before Callista’s fatal accident that he had last swum in the Aegean. “Don’t forget to bring a hat and some sunscreen. The sun can be fierce at this time of day, and your skin is very pale.”

…

“So what are you missing in Paris next week?” Kizzy ventured as they bobbed like corks in the sparkling, turquoise sea.

“A key meeting of the Global Roma Rights Committee—I represent Greece there just as often as I can,” he replied. “It’s scheduled as a follow-up to the meeting I missed in London, but a bomb scare stopped that, I’m informed.”

“Yes, it caused chaos didn’t it?” Kizzy commented wryly. “That’s what made me late for our meeting.”

Andreas seemed to drift off into his own little world for a moment. “Isabella never mentioned that.”

“Isabella wasn’t in the mood to listen that day, believe me,” Kizzy replied with a playful grimace. “Sweet revenge for all my annoying phone calls, I guess.”

Andreas raised his eyebrows in silent, ironic agreement. “Yes—Isabella has her difficult moments. And while we’re on the subject, Kizzy, I never did ask why you pretended to be my tyrannical secretary that day in London.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Kizzy said weakly and lowered her eyes to follow the swish of her hand just below the water’s surface. “It—it just came out, the first name that popped into my head.”

Andreas laughed softly. “What’s wrong with good old Kizzy Dean?”

“You were a stranger,” she replied quietly.

Andreas placed his fingertips under her chin and gently pushed her face up to meet his gaze. “I don’t understand.”

Kizzy swallowed. “You’ll think me very peculiar.”

“I won’t,” he insisted. “Tell me.”

She frowned, and then shrugged. “A lot of bad things happened to Mum when I was a baby—she was very vulnerable and learned a lot of hard lessons. One of the things she drummed into me as soon as I was old enough to understand was never trust a stranger. You don’t tell them your age, where you live or even your name, because they might be trying to ‘get’ you.”

Andreas curved the palm of his hand against her cheek as she spoke. He was trying to comfort her with its warmth, to encourage her. And then he realized that everything seemed to feel so much better when he was touching her.

“It’s a hard habit to break—I’m not sure I ever will.”

Andreas eased her gently against his chest so she couldn’t see the look of despair that he could feel ricocheting across his features. “I’m not a stranger anymore, Kizzy, you’re safe,” he murmured, and closed his eyes with the effort of keeping his voice level.

And I’ll take care of you now whatever happens…

Kizzy took a deep breath and pulled away from him, tipping her chin up to convey a steeliness of spirit that he knew she didn’t possess. Andreas was used to discovering what was real and what was not from years in courtroom battles. He could see through charades and artifice—there was always something that gave the game away: a chink in the armor, a look, a gesture, a catch in the voice. And he could tell that Kizzy was trying to keep him at a distance, putting on an act, raising a barrier to protect herself from something—even from him.

She smiled brightly and fixed her eyes upon a distant fishing boat. “Do you find it easy to hand over the reins with your work? Relinquish control?”

Andreas reflected briefly, feeling somehow cheated that she had changed the subject and put them so decisively back on neutral territory. He wouldn’t push it, though. Not right now, at any rate.

“I’m
always
in control,” he stated, only half playfully. “However, I’m confident that my number two can deal with it all; he seemed enthusiastic when we spoke on the phone earlier.”

“So this committee is how you make so much money?”

“No!” He laughed and pushed his hair back from his brow; thick, black, and glistening from the sea. “I don’t get a cent from all that. The money’s been built up with commercial legal work over the years and some very shrewd property investments over the last decade. Plus some luck on both scores.”

He reached out to wipe away a drop of water that was hanging like a diamond from her earlobe. He’d buy her some nice jewelry, he decided. He knew she’d never ask for it, and she was beautiful enough without adornment, but he wanted so badly to spoil her.

“I owe it to people like Orfeas to put something back in the world now that I have so much.” He ran his fingertips around the fine bones of her jaw. “And to be honest, I’ve needed to keep myself occupied over the last few years.”

“Orfeas is Roma?”

“That’s right.”

“So I’m not the first person with Romany blood to cross your path?”

“You’re not.” He smiled his agreement. “Orfeas saved me from a beating one morning when I was playing football instead of sweeping up donkey droppings. He tipped me off that the boss was coming around the corner, so I had a chance to run away. At the time, he and his brothers were doing their best to scrape an existence out of singing on doorsteps and collecting kitchen scraps to survive.”

“That’s awful,” Kizzy said with undisguised horror. “And they lived like that?”

Andreas shot her a knowing look and a crooked smile. “Orfeas was probably guilty of some petty crime too, but he had little choice. The local school wouldn’t accept Roma children on their registers and no one would give them work—it was hopeless. That discrimination made me sick then and it still does today.”

“Today?”

“Unfortunately, yes, and not just in Greece. The discrimination and xenophobia goes worldwide. Even your own little nation, so lauded for its tolerance, has had its moments of censure from the committee’s reports in the past.”

Kizzy nodded slowly, as though remembering her own experience of that discrimination as a child.

“Which brings me neatly to another matter.” He relished her little gasp as he threaded his arms around her waist. “If you still insist
on a job other than being my mistress, then I think there’s something very worthwhile you can do for me.”

He could have sworn he felt her heart leap with a jolt of excitement.

“Yes?” she said.

“There are hundreds of us trying to get to the root of the Roma problem but it takes time, a long time. And while we’re doing all these reports, having all these meetings and lobbying governments, there are Roma children who are reaching adulthood unable to read. They lack the basic skills that will help them to integrate and be accepted, so I’m trying to tackle this at the same time.”

“Unable to read?”

Andreas nodded gravely. “The settlement here on the island is well-established and runs itself. It was an experiment Orfeas helped me with and it’s been an incredible success, so I’m using land I bought up a few years ago to roll the scheme out in Rhodes. We’ve got the basics up, the sanitation’s in, and the staff are ready to start as soon as they can, so how do you feel about supervising the construction of the school kitchen?”

“Me?”

“Yes, why not?”

“Well, I’ve never done anything like—”

“Kizzy, you ran a kitchen single-handedly at Timi’s, didn’t you? I’m not asking you to physically install the stuff, but there’s no reason you can’t project-manage it. You’ve catered for large numbers, you know what equipment will be required, you have all the basic hygiene knowledge—you’ll be perfect!” He pulled her in closer so he could admire the jewels of her eyes. “I’d been intending to oversee it myself but the foreman speaks good English and can deal with all the municipal forms and regulations.”

He was also in his sixties, devoutly religious, devoted to his family, and would keep the younger builders in check around Kizzy.

“I’ll do it!” Kizzy blurted with joy. “I can’t wait; it sounds amazing. I won’t let you down, I promise.”

“I already knew that, pethi mou,” he laughed, and slipped the strap of her bikini off one shoulder. “So you’re happy now?” He reached around, tugged at the string bow tied around her back, and smiled with satisfaction as the white fabric floated away.

She nodded, content.

“Good, in that case you can relax and enjoy being here without worrying about a thing. Including getting dressed in the mornings.”

Chapter Eleven

She could never say the words but she would always be wildly happy when she was with him.

Kizzy breathed in the jasmine-scented air of another golden morning in Villa Madeline. It had been wrenching to leave their blissful existence on the island six weeks earlier, but the prospect of her new role had sugared that particular pill. Not only had Andreas given her a good job here, it was a fulfilling one—a position with a purpose, not just a means of survival.

And she loved him for it.

She loved him in spite of it too.

And the trigger for this realization? It had to be the moment when she’d stepped into the villa on their return and discovered that all her possessions from England were already there. Every last cotton bud and paperclip had been packed into crates and brought thousands of miles for her.

By his order.

She didn’t understand it—couldn’t—but the effect had been devastating, and then he had asked her to stay. To stay with him and live in his beautiful home. It defied belief now that she had ever considered him a cruel and ruthless corporate monster; all her preconceptions and impressions about him had been proven wrong. The beggar boy in Rhodes—Andreas had guided that child to a new start. His mother’s dying wishes had been fulfilled, and the Antonides family had a life they could only have dreamed of before.

Andreas was beautiful, kind, compassionate, proud, and almost unbearably protective at times. Yet she should be irritated by the way he insisted she wear a hat and stayed out of the midday sun. She should be put off by the way he glared at any man under fifty who came near her. She should feel the urge to run when he rubbed her shoulders at dusk and whispered that Greece could offer her all the things she had ever dreamed of.

Except him, of course
.

Kizzy felt his possessive cloak of affection constantly around her shoulders, but in many ways he was still a stranger—just a few steps back from the intimacy that would make her life complete. She had realized too late that she should have guarded her heart more closely, because now it ached and longed for him, tearing her to pieces with the impossibility of it all.

They had spelled it out from the word go: no strings, no love, just sex.

Whichever way she jiggled their conversations over the last couple of weeks, nothing had changed on that front, and she couldn’t even be sure that she wanted it to, either. The longing for freedom, the wind in her hair, a rootless life without responsibility—that was what she had always dreamed about in that council flat in Portsmouth.

This wonderful new existence in Lindos would come to an end soon enough, so she had to savor every moment. She would enjoy every dusk and dawn. She would cherish every kiss and store them in her memory, because there would never be another man to match him. None of this could last, and Kizzy knew it.

“Up early? Is anything wrong?”

“No.” Kizzy managed a smile as Andreas appeared behind her. “You were dead to the world, so I thought I’d let you sleep, and it’s so beautiful here when the sun comes up. The gorgeous colors of the sky and sea, everything was tinged with pink today. I never tire of it.”

“And I hope you never will, pethi mou. No one leaves Lindos for good unless they have to. This place has magical powers.” He flicked her a teasing look before sliding on to the wicker sofa and draping a long arm over her shoulder. “Or at least that’s what Dorinda says.”

“Then it must be true,” she replied and tucked her legs up as she snuggled into the comfort of his embrace, secretly wishing that it could be true for her.

“Talk of the devil,” Andreas murmured and quickly tightened the belt of his robe. “She must have been waiting for us to emerge.”

“
Kalimera
!” Dorinda waved at them from the top of the terrace steps, balancing a tray in the other hand. “Food for hungry lovers!”

“Oh dear,” Kizzy gasped and felt heat tingle through her cheeks. “It looks like we’ve been caught.”

Andreas’s chest trembled with suppressed amusement. “She’s known since the first night, Kizzy. Dorinda’s no fool. And she
does
keep asking me if we’d like breakfast in bed for a change.”

“Really? I assumed you would want to keep all this discreet.”

“Of course not!” He frowned. “How many people have I introduced you to in the last six weeks?”

“But that doesn’t mean they know we’re—that we—”

“That we’re red-hot lovers?”

“Hush!” Kizzy wriggled loose of his arm as Dorinda approached them. “We might embarrass her.”

“I doubt it,” Andreas chuckled, but he got up and brought her a little occasional table.

Dorinda slid the tray in front of them and fussed for a moment with the coffeepot. “This morning I bring you meat and cheese with your yogurt and fruit. To give you strength.”

“I need strength, Dorinda?” Andreas replied with a wry expression as he poured them two cups of coffee.

“Your trip to the conference in Geneva. A long way and all those delays… You must both be very tired.”

“We are, but it was worth it. Wasn’t it, Kizzy?”

“It was amazing,” Kizzy concurred, hurriedly hiding her smile. Being stranded by a volcanic dust cloud in a luxury hotel for a few nights had been exhausting. They’d barely slept with the trauma of it all…

“Then you must both eat and rest. Important party tonight, remember?”

Kizzy scooped some feta cheese and marinated red pepper onto a flatbread and rolled it up in her fingers. Once Dorinda had bustled away, she looked at Andreas, puzzled. “Party?”

“It’s St. Peter and St. Paul’s day here. There’s a big traditional celebration this evening in St. Paul’s Bay, and everyone will be there. Including us.” Andreas slid a warm hand beneath the silk of her robe and stroked his fingertips along the smooth top of her thigh. “I can’t wait to show you off again.”

…

Kizzy was silent as they walked hand-in-hand through the bustling, whitewashed honeycomb of alleyways. But inside, her heart seemed to sing with happiness. They might be surrounded by hundreds of noisy, boisterous partygoers, half-deafened by the festive music blasting out across the village, and confronted by locals peddling their wares on every corner, yet with his strong hand clasping hers, somehow she felt cocooned against the outside world. Andreas made her feel safe and treasured, a feeling she had never experienced with a man before. She loved being with him—in fact, she’d be happy if they never had to see another person again.

Suddenly, Kizzy had a deep longing to be back on the island, to be totally alone with him once more. It had been so perfect.

“Not far now,” Andreas said as they turned left onto a quiet street that quickly tapered into a narrow path. “Not going too fast for you, am I?”

“I’m fine,” Kizzy replied with her eyes fixed on the intricately pebbled path and her sandals. “But I do sometimes wonder if I’ll ever get to wear heels again.”

Andreas laughed and slid his arm around her shoulders. “Not if you want to walk around Lindos without breaking your neck. Besides, you don’t need them. I love your legs just the way they are.” He came to a halt and stroked his large hands down around her waist, pulling her into him so that their faces were just millimeters apart. “But there’s always indoors if you really must. I have no objection to you wearing them in bed from time to time.”

“Don’t!” she giggled and a thrill shot through her as he gently pushed her against a low wall overlooking the sea. The rough stone wall rasped intimately against her bare skin, exposed by her black halter-neck dress.

“Why not?” he demanded. “I intend to kiss you senseless before we have to behave ourselves in front of the great and good of the metropolis.”

“This is positively indecent,” she murmured, before his lips pressed hard against hers.

…

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Andreas asked later as they stood in the tiny, paved courtyard outside St. Paul’s church. “Not too hectic, I hope. Everyone seems to want to talk to us tonight.”

“It’s fabulous. I didn’t think Lindos could get any more beautiful, but tonight—all this? It’s beyond magical.” She sighed deeply. “Just look at that.”

The rising moon had turned the sky and sea blood red, streaked with wisps of violet, indigo, and orange, which were reflected with eye-watering effect in the mirrorlike water. Fairy lights twinkled around the lagoon, and the harsh rocks surrounding them glowed like molten ore.

“They say the apostle Paul was almost shipwrecked on the rocks here in a violent storm,” he told her, “but miraculously the ship escaped harm and found shelter in the bay. This little church marks the spot.”

She leaned on the low whitewashed wall that was fused into the savage golden boulders, and took a deep breath of night air.

“It’s hard to imagine a storm in such a beautiful place.” She jumped with surprise as a soft flutter of black velvet brushed her arm and left a trace of expensive perfume.

“
Efharisto
! Thank you!” Kizzy called after the small, elegant woman who had appeared from nowhere with two flutes of champagne for them, and then discreetly left again. She whispered to Andreas, “That was Olympia Parnassus, wasn’t it?”

“The mayor’s wife, yes.”

“That was nice of her.”

“You have a high social standing in Lindos now. And largely thanks to you, her husband has pledged a large amount of money to the school project.” He raised his champagne flute to her. “So, well done.”

“But I didn’t do anything.”

“You’ve been working on a hot, dusty building site when you could just as easily have been enjoying a life of luxury as my companion. People respect hard work here.” Andreas lifted her chin slightly to look her in the eye. “They also talk. You have no idea how many dinner invitations I’ve turned down this week.”

“Really?”

“Do you mind being the center of attention?”

Kizzy took a moment to quell the little voice in her head that suggested he was too embarrassed to take her to private dinner parties. Restaurants, public celebrations, yes, but not the inner sanctums of his world, places unsuitable for the mistress of the moment.

“Actually, no,” she replied, and forced a brittle smile as she pulled away from his hand. “I’m enjoying tonight, and the summer festivals every few weeks are fun. But I prefer it when it’s just you and me.”

Andreas smiled, threaded his arm around her waist and pulled her close to his body. He stared into the distance toward the floodlit acropolis. There was a heavy silence for a moment.

“Do you miss England, Kizzy?”

She looked at the ground. There were rose petals scattered over the mosaic of paving slabs. It was a question she hadn’t expected to hear from him tonight—they were supposed to be celebrating, not thinking about the future. She didn’t even want to think about what lay ahead—not right now, anyway.

“I miss my mother.”

Andreas’s jaw clenched. “I’d bring her back if I could.”

“I know,” Kizzy whispered, and stooped to pick up a handful of rose petals. “There must have been a wedding here today.”

“It’s Friday,” he pointed out. “So there will have been a number of weddings. Couples come from all over the world to get married here. It’s big business.”

“I can see why.” She bit nervously down on her bottom lip as if it would stop the words from coming out of her mouth but the compulsion was too strong. “Did
you
get married here?” She sensed his body stiffen but carried on regardless. “You must have been happy with her once—at least on your wedding day.”

“We married in Athens.” Roughly, he drained his glass. “And I could do with another drink. Let’s get back to the taverna. We should make more of an effort to be sociable.”

Kizzy was grateful that the tension in Andreas’s body seemed to ease once they were back in the noisy crowd on the beach. The small taverna set into the rocks was the focus of the night’s celebrations, a glowing beacon in the blue velvet night, fizzing with warmth and excitement. There, the clatter of a busy kitchen and the tantalizing scents of fish and meat being seared on a hot grill helped to distract her from her fears, and Andreas’s possessive arm about her waist made everything feel wonderful again.

She had taken a risk in asking him about his marriage; he never talked about it, and she knew that was the way he wanted things to stay. However much she longed to know about his past, about this woman he must have cared about enough to marry, she would have to be satisfied with his silence.

“Dorinda’s been telling me about Prasonisi at the southernmost tip of the island, where the Mediterranean meets the Aegean,” Kizzy murmured into his ear as they danced to the bouzouki music on the sand. “She says that just before you reach it, on the top of the hill, you can see huge, rolling waves on the right of the point and calm, sheltered sea to the left—a natural wonder. Could we go there sometime? I’d love to see it for myself.”

“Of course we can,” he said, and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “It sounds like the perfect day out before I leave for Paris next week.”

“Paris—I’d forgotten about that trip.”