The Andreou Marriage Arrangement

‘Can I take your jacket?’

‘I’m fine, thanks.’

‘Why don’t you take a seat?’ He indicated a comfortable chair. ‘Would you like something to drink?’

‘Can we pass on the social niceties and go straight to the matter at hand?’

He regarded her carefully for several long seconds, and she glimpsed a muscle tighten at the edge of his jaw.

‘By all means,’ he concurred with deliberate indolence. ‘Then we’ll eat.’

Alesha was so tempted to vent. Anger had built to a point where throwing a hissy fit would at least relieve some of her angst. Yet, conversely, it was probably exactly what he expected of her.

‘The terms of my father’s will are unconscionable.’

He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘Apropos the marriage clause?’

‘You agree with it?’ Her eyes widened measurably. ‘What manner of man are you?’

‘One who prefers to embark on marriage with an honest foundation at its base.’

The look she gave him should have shrivelled him on the spot. Except it had no effect whatsoever.

‘Oh…please. Let’s not forget the primary focus.’

‘Karsouli?’

Alesha allowed herself a faintly bitter smile. ‘Dimitri’s trump card.’

Loukas offered a thoughtful look. ‘Perhaps.’

She stilled, suddenly alert. ‘What are you saying?’

‘Dimitri made a few errors in financial judgement in recent months.’

Her shock was real and barely masked. ‘I don’t believe you.’

‘The global economic climate worked against him, so too did his failing health.’

Failing health? ‘He was killed in a car accident.’

Loukas’ gaze didn’t waver. ‘Your father risked heart failure unless he agreed to undergo heart transplant surgery. He refused, and bartered a deal with me to safeguard Karsouli.’ He waited a beat. ‘And you.’

No. The word echoed as a silent scream, and the blood chilled in her veins.

Oh, dear God.

‘Karsouli needed a large injection of cash in order to remain solvent.’

‘How much?’ The demand almost choked her.

‘Half a billion dollars.’

That much?

Selling off a twenty-five-per-cent share represented the injection of cash. The gift via Dimitri’s will, conditional on marriage, would have been a sufficiently attractive enticement.

Karsouli would survive and flourish beneath Loukas Andreou’s skilled leadership.

Of which she would become a joint partner and director. There was just one major snag…In order to achieve both, she had to agree to marry Loukas Andreou.

Two pluses versus one minus.

Alesha took a deep calming breath…not that it had any effect. ‘I’ll need to verify those facts.’

‘Of course. I have certified copies of relevant documentation for you to peruse.’

Somehow she didn’t expect any less of him. Even given the advantage of his father’s success, Loukas appeared very much an achiever determined to forge his own destiny, both professionally and personally.

She accepted the paperwork, took time to read and absorb the data, aware of a sinking heart with every page.

The slim hope there might be a mistake disappeared as she was forced to face the inevitable.

With care she placed the papers onto the table, then met his hooded gaze. ‘Why did you sanction Dimitri’s terms?’

One eyebrow lifted. ‘The truth? His request coincided with a promise I had made to my own father to marry and provide an heir.’

‘How noble,’ Alesha accorded sweetly. ‘To sacrifice yourself out of duty and family loyalty.’ She sharpened a figurative barb. ‘Were none of the many women who attach themselves to you suitable wife material?’

His features assumed musing cynicism. ‘No.’

‘What if I choose to contest the marriage clause?’

His eyes speared her own, dark with dangerous intent, and belying the quiet purpose in his voice.

‘Should you refuse, the purchase will fall through. I’ll sell the twenty-five-per-cent shares comprising Dimitri’s bequest, and you will be placed in an invidious financial position.’

Forced to take on a partner and possibly face a takeover bid. Thereby losing everything her father had achieved. All she’d lived and breathed for as long as she could remember.

Anger, resentment, dammit—grief, welled up inside. So many emotions…consuming, invasive, and in that moment uncontrolled.

She stood and turned towards the door. ‘Go to hell.’

Chapter Two

‘I SUGGEST you think before you walk out that door,’ Loukas cautioned with dangerous quietness. ‘Or the hell you’d consign me to will be your own.’

His meaning was icily clear, and had a sobering effect.

Pride and anger held no place in Dimitri’s diabolical scheme.

Walk…and Alesha would lose the one thing she considered to be the most important entity in her life.

Could she trust Loukas? Dear heaven. If not him…who?

At least he had a vested interest in Karsouli; he possessed the skill and expertise to assume dual directorship; add considerable financial resources…

It was no contest.

Except she was damned if she’d give in easily.

For the space of a few seconds she closed her eyes, then opened them again, took a deep calming breath and turned slowly to face him.

There was an inherent strength apparent, an entity that went deep beneath the surface. An indomitable sense of power that made him both an invaluable ally and feared adversary.

But as a husband? Lover?

An instant recall of what she’d suffered at Seth’s hands sent apprehension feathering her spine.

Don’t go there.

One man’s manic proclivities were not those of all men.

Unbidden, her teeth worried the inner fullness of her lower lip.

Yet how could she know for sure?

Seth had played the perfect part as loving fiancé, adoring new husband…until she had refused to concede to his demands.

A sudden bleakness clouded her eyes. A shadow of pain which appeared so fleetingly Loukas almost missed it, and his gaze narrowed.

‘If the deal didn’t include marriage, I’d be ecstatic.’

‘Nevertheless, it does.’

‘Unfortunately.’

On some level she got the loyalty thing. Matchmaking suitable partners from two eminently suitable families. A little devious manipulation added to the mix, and voilà…the convenient marriage scenario intended to safeguard the family fortunes and ensure the continuation of a dynasty.

‘Yes or no, Alesha.’ His expression was unreadable, his eyes dark and unwavering as they regarded her.

It had to be yes. There was no way she could countenance Karsouli slipping ignominiously between the cracks to disappear in the belly of iniquity.

‘I have no choice but to agree, subject to certain conditions.’

There was a strength apparent in her demeanour, a determination he could only admire given she’d taken a king-hit about the true state of her father’s corporation.

‘Name them.’ His voice held a silkiness she chose to ignore.

‘I retain my position in Karsouli.’

Loukas inclined his head in agreement. ‘Naturally.’

Now for the cruncher. ‘A separate suite of rooms in whatever home we share.’

His gaze narrowed. ‘Your reason being?’

She kept her eyes steady on his. ‘A personal preference.’

‘Based on?’

‘A need for my own space.’

He regarded her in silence for several timeless seconds. ‘The same bedroom, separate beds.’ He waited a beat. ‘Until you feel comfortable sharing mine.’

As if that were going to happen any time soon. ‘It isn’t fair you get to dictate all the terms.’

‘Be grateful I’ve conceded one of them.’

But not for long. Apprehension rose like a spectre, and for one wild moment she wondered at her sanity in aligning herself with a man such as him.

‘So, on that basis, I should fawn at your feet and express undying gratitude?’

A faint quirk lifted the corner of his mouth. ‘For saving Karsouli?’

‘Of course.’ Her response held a certain dryness that didn’t fool him in the slightest.

Honesty, at a cost. With no attempt to hide it beneath any number of platitudes. Strength and a degree of fragility, he mused, made for an intriguing mix.

Loukas retrieved the in-room dining menu, opened it at the appropriate page and handed it to her. ‘Choose what you’d like, and I’ll order dinner.’

Food? The mere thought of ingesting anything was enough to send her stomach into immediate revolt.

‘I’m not hungry.’ What was more, she wanted out of here. Away from this forceful man who held her fate in his hands.

She caught up her bag and slung the strap over one shoulder. ‘I should leave.’

His eyes seared hers. ‘We’re not done.’

She took the few steps to move past him, only to come to a halt mere inches from where he stood. ‘Yes, we are.’

‘We’ll share a meal, discuss wedding arrangements and relevant details, then I’ll return you to your apartment.’

Alesha tilted her head a little. ‘So…sit down, be quiet, and bow my head in polite servitude?’

She could almost swear she caught a faint gleam of humour on his handsome face, but then it was gone. ‘I doubt the latter two form part of your repertoire.’

‘How perceptive of you.’ Sweet, she could do sweet, although it was impossible he missed the faint edge apparent in her voice.

Loukas offered her the menu. ‘Choose, Alesha. Or I’ll order for you.’

A starter would be all she could manage, and she selected one, then attempted to tune out as he picked up the phone.

A difficult feat, when the fine edge of awareness curled around her nerve-ends and heightened the tension she experienced in his presence.

A sophisticated strategist, he bore the persona of a man well versed in the ways of humankind, with the ability to see through any deliberate orchestration.

Had anyone tested his control…and escaped unscathed?

Stupid question. Why even go there? Loukas Andreou was an entity unto himself…indomitable, inviolate, and utterly ruthless.

But what of the essence of the man…as a friend, lover, husband? Would he be capable of gifting a degree of affection? Caring?

Or would she merely become a trophy wife…soothed by an enviable lifestyle and expensive gifts? Her life a mere facsimile?

The question had to be, was retaining Karsouli worth a marriage she didn’t want to a man who placed financial assets above all else?

Get over yourself, she denounced in silent chastisement. You thought you had love first time round, only to discover to your cost that it was nothing more than a nebulous dream.

At least marriage to Loukas would be unclouded by sentiment. A business arrangement she entered into with her eyes wide open…nothing more, nothing less.

Their meal, when it arrived, was beautifully presented, although Alesha barely tasted a thing as she forked morsels of food with mechanical precision.

‘I have the application for a special licence,’ Loukas informed her as they shared coffee. ‘It requires your signature. I foresee the marriage ceremony going ahead on Friday.’

‘This Friday?’

His eyes seared her own. ‘Is that a problem?’

You’re joking, right?

‘Why the hurry?’ she managed, and quelled the sudden onset of nerves playing havoc with her stomach as he queried reasonably,

‘Why delay?’

Sure, and she was ready for this?

Take a reality check. A week, a month—even a year down the track, and she’d still never be ready to embark on another marriage.

Yet ever present was the instinctive knowledge there would be no second chance with Loukas if she reneged.

‘Give me the application and a pen.’

She attached her signature with a sense of fatalism, then she reached for her shoulder bag, slid the strap over one shoulder and purposely made for the door. ‘I’ll call a taxi.’

Loukas stood, filched his jacket from the back of the chair, then he hooked it over one shoulder and reached the door ahead of her.

Okay, he could accompany her to the lift, except when it had been summoned he accompanied her into the electronic cubicle.

Courtesy was a fine thing, she acknowledged as they reached the ground floor, and she turned towards him prior to moving across the foyer. ‘Goodnight.’

Without a further word she crossed to the concierge desk and made a polite but firm request, which was negated by Loukas’ presence.

‘The lady is with me,’ he informed the concierge, and followed it with a request for his car to be brought up from valet parking.

Alesha opened her mouth to deny it, only for Loukas to direct her a piercing look. ‘Don’t argue.’

‘There’s no need—’

‘Yes, there is.’

It was ridiculous, and her eyes flashed dark fire before she lowered her lashes to hide her anger at his high-handedness.

‘Did you have to behave like a dictatorial ass?’ Alesha demanded the instant he eased the sleek Aston Martin out onto the street.

‘That’s a first.’ His drawled comment held a tinge of humour she chose to ignore.

‘So, bite me.’

‘Aren’t you in the least concerned I might bite back?’

She was unprepared for the faint sensation feathering over the surface of her skin as it stirred something deep inside she had no wish to disturb.

She didn’t offer so much as a word during the short drive to her apartment, and she reached for the door-clasp the instant the car slid to a halt at the kerb.

Cool, polite words born from instilled good manners emerged from her lips. ‘Thanks for the ride.’

She didn’t wait for his acknowledgment, nor did she look back as she swiped her card at the main entry and hurried into the foyer.

It was a relief to enter her apartment, tend to the lock and security system.

Home. A place uniquely hers, where she felt safe, secure.

But not for long, a tiny voice taunted. All too soon her life…everything would change. She slipped off her stilettos, then discarded her jacket. It wasn’t late, and she was too tense to consider retiring to bed.

Television, watching a DVD, or work were three options, and she retreated to her bedroom, discarded her clothes and donned cotton sleep trousers and a singlet top before cleansing off her make-up. Then she slotted in a DVD and settled into a comfortable chair with the remote.

It was almost midnight when the credits rolled, and she switched everything off, then made her way to bed…surprisingly to sleep until the alarm roused her early next morning.

Maintaining a routine gave focus to the day, and Alesha donned sweats, slid her feet into trainers, tied back her hair, exited the apartment building and broke into a steady jog en route to a local gym.

An hour’s workout helped diminish her stress levels, and she returned home with renewed vigour to shower, breakfast, then dress for work.

The executive power suit, minimum jewellery, hair smoothed into an upswept style, a light touch with make-up, killer heels…and she was good to go.

Laptop, briefcase, shoulder bag…check.

Minutes later she slid behind the wheel of her silver BMW, engaged the engine, then made her way to the main arterial road leading into the city.

Traffic at this hour was heavy, and making it through electronically controlled intersections without at least two enforced stops was rare.

Consequently it was almost eight when Alesha took the lift from the basement parking area to a high floor in the tall modern building housing the Karsouli Corporation.

A luxurious office suite with prime views over the inner harbour, expensive carpeting, sparkling glass, executive furniture and expensive works of art adorning the walls.

Dimitri had enjoyed displaying the acquisitions earned by his success. Ongoing consultations with a prominent interior decorator ensured ostentatious didn’t figure in the scheme of things.

Alesha didn’t want anything to change. In fact, she’d insist on it. Karsouli would remain Karsouli in honour of her father’s memory, his years of hard work.

‘Good morning.’ Her smile held genuine warmth as she passed through Reception and trod the wide passageway leading to her office.

A greeting she repeated as her PA rose from behind a desk with the day’s scheduling in hand.

‘Mr Andreou requests your presence a.s.a.p. An executive meeting will be chaired by Mr Andreou at ten in the conference room. Department heads are currently being advised. I’ve noted everything in your diary, and printed a copy for your perusal.’

Alesha took the offered schedule, skimmed it, and her eyes widened fractionally.

Loukas was wasting no time in setting several contingency plans in motion.

‘Thanks, Anne. You can alert Mr Andreou I’ll be with him in ten minutes.’

‘I understand there is some urgency to his request.’

Sufficient for Anne to issue the caution? All hail the new chief? Except the partnership with Loukas was equal. And damned if she’d drop everything and rush to his bidding!

‘Ten minutes, Anne.’

She took every one of them before entering the large office Dimitri had occupied for as long as she could remember…and tamped down the faint resentment she experienced at seeing Loukas seated behind her father’s desk.

‘You wanted to see me?’ The polite smile she summoned didn’t reach her eyes as Loukas rose to his feet and moved forward to close the door behind her.

An action that sent the nerves in her stomach into a tangled knot.

He indicated a leather chair. ‘Take a seat.’ Whereupon he crossed to the desk to lean one hip against its edge.

She continued to stand. ‘I hope this won’t take long.’

‘You’d have preferred a memo relaying I’m due in Melbourne late this afternoon to head an emergency meeting before flying on to Adelaide, then the Gold Coast?’

‘You require my input?’

‘Personally or professionally?’

A trick question? ‘Professionally, of course.’

Of course. His eyes narrowed a little as he took in the red power suit, the killer heels, the upswept hair, and his fingers itched to loosen the pins holding the elegantly contrived knot in place.

Her choice of apparel made a statement, one she’d deliberately sought to portray, he noted silently. And wondered why she’d thought it necessary.

Because she felt threatened by him? Perhaps she had cause, professionally.

‘The current state of Karsouli requires swift action, and formal meetings with each of the men who head the corporation’s three out-of-state offices are imperative. Personally, not via conference call.’

Alesha didn’t give him the satisfaction of verbally agreeing with him. ‘When will you be back?’

‘Late Thursday evening.’

‘I trust you’ll keep me posted. Is that all?’

One eyebrow quirked a little. ‘There’s the matter of our wedding details.’

Her stomach executed a painful somersault, and it took considerable effort to remain calm. ‘Email me the time and venue.’

‘Wolseley Road, Point Piper.’ He offered the number. ‘Friday, four o’clock in the afternoon.’

A slight frown creased her forehead. ‘That’s a private residence.’ Situated amongst Sydney’s most expensive real estate.

‘My home, which is currently in the final stages of redecoration.’

Sufficient money could achieve almost anything…and obviously had. It explained his preference for temporary hotel accommodation.

‘There’s also the legalities attached to the union,’ Loukas relayed smoothly. ‘We have an appointment at three-thirty this afternoon to tend to the necessary paperwork.’

Ensuring everything was neatly tied together before he flew out to Melbourne, she perceived, and attempted to quell the feeling she’d boarded a runaway train from which escape would involve irreparable damage to life and limb.

‘Fine.’

‘There’s nothing you want to add?’

A whole heap in verbal castigation…none of which would do any good! Instead, she managed a stunningly sweet smile. ‘Not at this moment.’

She turned and made for the door, only to discover he was there before her, and she attempted to ignore his close proximity, the musky tang of his cologne, the sheer sensuality he managed to exude without any seeming effort at all.

Assuring herself she was immune didn’t quite cut it. Nor did likening him to all men.

Loukas Andreou stood alone, a male entity that defied categorization.

So where did that leave her?

Right now…out of here!

‘Ten in the conference room,’ Loukas reminded her silkily as she exited the room.

A meeting he chaired with the type of ruthless strategy that left no room for doubt his proposed restructuring of Karsouli would be immediate and far-reaching.

Details were provided in individual folders placed in front of the attending executives, who were each given forty-eight hours in which to submit approval, reservations…or otherwise.

It took considerable effort on Alesha’s part to contain her resentment and present a neutral front when she wanted to silently rage at his high-handedness.

She managed it, just, until Loukas called the meeting to a close, and she bore the carefully polite glances as the executive staff filed past her as they exited the room.

Questions would follow by the long-serving personnel, concern expressed by those whose tenure was more recent…and she’d do her best with damage control.

But now she had a bone to pick with the self-appointed man in control.

With care she closed the door and crossed to where Loukas stood assembling paperwork into his briefcase.

‘How dare you initiate changes without consulting me?’

She resembled a pocket virago, Loukas noted. Dark eyes flashed with anger as she sent him a venomous glare. ‘My father—’

‘Allowed his emotions to rule, and didn’t keep you apprised of the reality.’

‘You can’t just terminate—’

‘Dimitri kept performance details on file of every employee.’ He handed her a memory stick. ‘Study them in my absence, together with my recommendations, and we’ll confer on my return.’

‘And if I don’t agree?’

‘We’ll discuss it.’

‘We will?’ The fine edge of sarcasm was evident. ‘Should I express gratitude at being slotted into your busy schedule?’

His cellphone beeped and he checked the screen. ‘I need to take this call. Three-thirty, Alesha. My office.’

The temptation to throw something at him was uppermost, and she deliberately held his dark gaze, glimpsed his recognition of her intent, together with his silent threat of retribution.

For a timeless few seconds the air between them pulsed with electricity, a perilous force so overwhelming she almost forgot to breathe.

Then he activated the call, effectively dismissing her.

Panache, control, she possessed both, and she turned away from him and exited the room, closing the door with an imperceptible click behind her, when she would have delighted in slamming it. Except the door was carefully weighted to avoid anything other than a smooth, almost silent action.

She wanted badly to vent, and she would the moment she had him alone, she promised as she crossed to her office.

Three-thirty couldn’t appear soon enough!

Chapter Three

ALESHA spent what remained of the morning attending to the immediate business at hand, and chose to have her PA send out for a chicken and salad sandwich with mayo on rye and a double-strength latte.

Something that became a working lunch eaten at her desk as she accessed computer data, inserted reference notations, took phone calls and instructed Anne to clear an hour between three-thirty and four-thirty.