What The Greek Wants Most

Santa Maria!

She fought to remember her anger at this stranger. As much as she detested her role in tonight’s events—the blatant begging for campaign funds disguised as a charity event—she couldn’t let opportunities slip through her fingers.

It was the deal she’d made with her father.

An education in return for serving her time. In six short weeks she would be free to pursue her dreams. Free of her father’s influence, of the sleazy, horrifying rumours that had been part of her childhood and what had driven her mother to quiet despair when she thought she wasn’t being observed.

She needed to focus, not moon over how coarse this arrogant stranger’s faintly stubbled jaw would feel against her skin.

‘Make nice? After you rudely interrupted my conversation and sent my guest for the evening running without so much as a goodbye?’

‘Think about that for a minute. Do you really want a man who would abandon you so easily on the strength of a few whispered words?’

Genuine anger replaced the momentary sensory aberration. ‘That you needed to whisper those words instead of state them in my hearing makes me wonder just how confident you are of your manhood.’

Inez was used to being the butt of male jokes. Pietro and her father had mocked and dismissed her career ambitions until the day she’d picked up her suitcase and threatened to leave home for good.

But she was still shocked when the man in front of her threw back his head and laughed. Even more so when the sight of his strong white teeth and the genuine twinkling merriment in his eyes sent her pulse racing. An alien tingling started in her belly and spread outward like fractured lightning.

‘Did I say something funny?’

Light hazel eyes speared hers. ‘I’ve been challenged on a lot of things, querida, but never over my manhood.’

The political career her father so desperately craved produced men who could fake confidence with the best of them. She’d seen political candidates on a clear losing streak fake bravado until they were on the verge of looking totally ridiculous.

This man oozed confidence and power so very effortlessly it was like a second skin. Couple those two elements with the dangerous magnetism she could feel and Theo Pantelides was positively lethal.

Over her thundering heartbeat, she heard the master of ceremonies announce that the fund-raiser she’d so carefully orchestrated—the platform that would see her achieve her freedom—was about to begin.

Beyond one broad shoulder of the man who seemed to have sucked the air from the large ballroom, she saw her father and Pietro heading towards her.

Her father would want to know what had happened to Alfonso. The Brazilian businessman had promised to host a polo match on his large ranch where he bred the finest thoroughbreds. Securing a time and a date and a campaign donation had been her job tonight.

A much needed win this man had cost her.

Frustrated anger flared anew.

‘This can be resolved very easily, Inez,’ Theo Pantelides murmured in her ear. His voice was deep. Alluring. To hear him use her given name, the version her half-American mother had so lovingly bestowed on her, made her momentarily lose her bearings. A state that worsened when his hot breath washed over her neck.

Barely managing to suppress a shiver, she snapped herself back into focus. ‘Don’t say my name. In fact, don’t speak to me. Just…just go away!’

Inez knew she was on the verge of displaying childish behaviour but she needed to regroup quickly, find a solution to a situation that had been so cut and dried fifteen minutes ago.

She watched her father and brother approach and the dart of pain that resided beneath her breastbone twisted. For a long time she’d yearned for a connection with them, especially after Mãe had been so cruelly ripped from their lives following a fall from a racehorse a week before Inez’s eighteenth birthday. But she’d soon realised that she was alone in the pain and loneliness brought on by the loss of the mother who’d been her everything. Pietro had been given no time to grieve before their father had stepped up his grooming campaign. As for Benedicto himself, he’d barely finished burying his wife before resuming his relentless pursuit of political power.

The only other male she’d foolishly thought was honourable had turned out to be just as ruthlessly power-hungry as the men in her family.

Constantine Blanco—one lesson well and truly learned.

‘I see the rumours were false after all,’ the man who loomed, large and imposing, in front of her drawled in that deep voice of his, capturing her attention so effortlessly.

She pushed down the bitterness that swirled through her at the thought of what she’d allowed to happen with Constantine. How low she’d sunk in her need for love and a desire for a connection.

‘What rumours?’ She infused a carelessness in her voice she was far from feeling.

‘The ones that said you exhibit grace and charm with each bat of your eyelids. At the moment all I can see is a hellcat intent on scoring grooves into my skin.’

‘Then I suggest you stay away from me. I wouldn’t want to ruin your unbelievably handsome face now, would I?’

She hurried away from his magnetic presence towards where the tables had been set out with highly polished sterling silver cutlery and exquisitely cut crystal. At twenty thousand dollars a plate, the event was ostensibly to raise money for the children trapped within Rio’s favelas, a cause dear to her heart.

Shame it had to be tainted with power-hungry sharks, mild threats to secure votes and…devastatingly handsome rogues with piercing hazel eyes who made her breath catch in a frighteningly exciting way…

The direction of her thoughts made her stumble lightly. Catching herself, she smiled at a guest who slid her a concerned glance.

Each table was set for eight. Her father had insisted their table was placed in the centre, where all eyes would be on them.

With Alfonso’s unexpected departure, the empty seat would stick out like the proverbial sore thumb once the Secretary of State and his wife and the other power couple had taken their places.

She had no choice but to bump someone to the high table. All she needed to figure out was who—

‘Staring at the empty seat will not make your departed guest suddenly reappear, senhorita,’ the deep voice uttered from behind her.

That hot shiver swept up her spine again.

Before she could summon an appropriately scathing retort, her chair and the one bearing Alfonso’s name were pulled back.

‘What are you doing?’ she demanded heatedly under her breath. She continued to stare down at the place setting, unwilling to look up into those hazel eyes. Something in their light depths made her hyperaware of her body, of her increased heartbeat. As if she was prey and he was the merciless predator.

It was preposterous. She didn’t like it. But it was undeniable.

‘Saving your skin. Now, smile and play along.’

‘I’m not a puppet. I don’t smile on command.’

‘Try. Unless you want to spend the rest of the evening sitting next to the equivalent of an elephant in the ballroom?’

Something in his voice made her forget her vow not to look into his eyes. Something…peculiar. Her head snapped up before she could stop herself.

Their eyes clashed. And she found herself in that hyperaware state again. She forced herself to breathe through it. ‘You created the very situation you now seem intent on fixing. Why don’t you save us both time and state what your agenda is?’

A look passed over his face. Too quickly for her to decipher but whatever it was made her breath catch in a totally different way from before. Warning spiked the hairs on her nape.

‘I merely want to redress the situation a little. And, as talented as you seem to think you are at hiding it, I can see my actions caused you distress. Let me help make it better.’

‘So you cause me grief then swoop in to save me like a knight in shining armour?’

‘I’m no one’s knight, senhorita. And I prefer Armani to armour.’

He pointedly held out her seat.

Casting a swift glance around, Inez saw that they were attracting attention. Short of causing a scene, there was nothing she could do. Willing her facial muscles to relax into a cordial smile, she slowly sat down and watched as Theo Pantelides folded himself into the seat next to her.

He reached for his champagne at the same time as she reached for her water glass. The brush of his knuckle against her wrist made her jump.

‘Relax, anjo. I’ve got this,’ came the smooth, deep reassurance.

A hysterical laugh bubbled up her throat, curbed at the last minute by a cough. ‘Pardon me if that assurance brings me very little comfort.’

He lifted the glass she’d abandoned and held it out to her. ‘Tell me, what’s the worst that could happen?’

She took the glass and stared into the sparkling water. The need to moisten her dry throat had receded. ‘Believe me, the worst already has happened.’

For a long time she’d hidden from the truth—that her father had his heir, and she was a useless spare part.

Pain writhed through her and her breath grew shaky as her throat clogged with anger and bitterness.

‘Get yourself together. Now isn’t the time to fall apart. Trust me, Delgado may be a good friend but he has a wandering eye.’ The hard bite to his tone cut a path through her emotions.

Setting the glass down, she faced him. ‘I have been toyed with enough to last me a century, and I know your business here tonight has nothing to do with me, so do me a favour, senhor, and tell me straight—what do you want?’ she whispered fiercely. She noted vaguely that her heartbeat was once again on rapid acceleration to sky-high. Her fingers shook and her belly churned with emotions she couldn’t have named to save her life.

‘First of all, cut out the senhor bit. If you want to address me in any way, call me Theo.’

‘I will address you how I see fit, Mr Pantelides. And I see that once again you have failed to give me a straight answer.’

‘No, I’ve failed to jump when you say. You need to be taught a little patience, anjo.’

She lifted a deliberately mocking brow. ‘And you propose to be the one to teach me?’

That wide, breathtaking smile appeared again. Just like that, her pulse leapt then galloped with a speed even the finest racehorse would’ve strained to match.

What was going on here?

‘Only if you ask nicely.’

She was searching for an appropriately cutting response when her father reached the table with the rest of the guests.

He cast her a narrow-eyed glance before his gaze slid to Theo Pantelides.

‘Mr Pantelides, I had hoped for a few minutes of your time before the evening started properly,’ her father said as he took his seat across the table.

Inez wasn’t sure whether she imagined the slight stiffening in the posture of the man beside her. Her senses were too highly strung for her to trust their accuracy. Searching his profile as he stared at her father, nothing in his face gave any indication as to his true feelings.

‘I’m all for mixing business with pleasure. However, I draw the line at mixing business with the plight of the poor. Let the favela kids have their cause heard. Then we will attend to business.’

The firm put-down sent an arctic chill around the table. The Secretary’s wife gave a visible gasp and her skin blanched beneath her overdone make-up. Pietro, who’d just approached the table as Theo replied, gripped the back of his chair, anger embedded in his face.

Silence reigned for several fraught seconds. Her father flicked a glance at Pietro, who yanked back his seat and sat down. The hands her brother placed on the table were curled into fists and for a moment Inez wondered if his famous temper was about to be let loose on their guests.

Benedicto smiled at Theo. ‘Of course. This cause is extremely dear to my heart. My own mother was brought up in the favelas.’

‘As indeed you were, no?’ Theo queried silkily.

Again, the Secretary’s wife gasped. She reached for her wine glass and took a quick gulp. When she went to take another, her husband surreptitiously stayed her hand and sent her a stern disapproving look.

Her father nodded to the waiter, who stood poised with a bottle of the finest red wine. He took his time to savour his first sip before he answered.

‘You are quite mistaken, Mr Pantelides. My mother managed to escape the fate most of her lot failed to and bettered her life long before she bore me. But I inherited her fighting spirit and her determination to do what I can for the bleak place she once called home.’

Theo’s eyebrow quirked. ‘Right. I may have been misinformed, then,’ he said, although his dry tone suggested otherwise.

‘I assure you misinformation is rife when it comes to the ploys of political opponents. And I have been told more than once that only a foolish man believes everything he reads in the papers.’

Theo slashed a smile that had a definite edge to it across the table. ‘Trust me, I know a thing or two about what lengths newspapers will go to achieve a headline.’

‘We seem to have lost Alfonso. Would you care to explain his absence, Inez?’ Pietro’s voice slid through the conversation.

Anger still rippled off him and Inez was acutely aware that he hadn’t directly addressed Theo Pantelides.

Before she could speak, the man in question turned to her brother. ‘He was called away suddenly. Emergency business elsewhere. Couldn’t be helped. Since I was there when he took his leave, your sister offered me his seat and I graciously accepted, didn’t you, anjo?’

She saw Pietro’s eyes visibly widen at the blatant endearment. Just as swiftly, they narrowed and she could almost see the wheels spinning in a different direction as his gaze swung between her and Theo Pantelides.

No! Never! Her fingers curled into fists and she glared at him until he looked away.

‘Well, perhaps Delgado’s loss is our gain, sim?’ her father prompted.

Again Theo smiled. Again her heart thudded hard at the sheer magnetism of his smile, even though it sorely lacked any humour.

The man was an enigma. He’d inveigled his way onto the top table, then proceeded to insult his host, just as he’d insulted her.

Inez had little doubt her father would unleash his anger at the slight later.

But right now she was more puzzled by the man next to her. What was his game plan? If he was in a position to acquire a controlling share of their company then clearly he was a man of considerable means. But he wasn’t Brazilian. That much she knew. So why was he interested in her father’s political ambitions?

She realised she was staring when that proud head turned and gold-flecked hazel eyes captured hers, one eyebrow quirked in amusement.

Hastily averting her gaze, she picked up her glass and took another sip.

Thankfully, the master of ceremonies chose that moment to climb onto the podium to announce the first course and the first speaker.

Inez barely tasted the salmon mousse and the wine that accompanied it. Nor did she absorb the speech given by the health minister about what was being done to help the poor.

Her hyperawareness of the man beside her interfered with her ability to think straight. The last time she’d felt anything remotely like this, she’d wandered down a path she’d hated herself for ever since. She’d almost given herself to a man who had no use for her besides using her as a pawn.

Never again!

Six more weeks. She needed to focus on that. Once her father was on his campaign trail, she could start her new life.

She’d heard the rumours about her father’s ruthless beginnings when she was growing up; a couple of her school friends had whispered about unsavoury dealings her father had been involved in. Inez had never found concrete proof. The one time she’d asked her mother, she’d been quickly admonished not to believe lies about her family.

At the time, she’d assured herself that they weren’t true. But the passage of time had whittled away that assurance. Now, with each day that passed, she suspected differently.

‘You look as if the world is coming to an end, anjo,’ the man she was desperately trying to ignore murmured. Again the endearment rolled off his tongue in a deep, seductive murmur that sent shivery awareness cascading over her skin.

‘I hope you’re not going to ask me to smile again, because—’ She gasped as he took her hand and lifted it to his mouth.

Firm, warm lips brushed her skin and Inez’s stomach dipped in sensual free fall that took her breath away. Desperately, she tried to snatch her hand back.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ she snapped.

‘Helping you. Relax. If you continue to look at me like you want to claw my eyes out, this won’t work.’

‘What exactly is this? And why on earth should I play along?’

‘Your brother and father are still wondering why Delgado left so abruptly. Do you want to suffer the third degree later or will you let me help you make it all go away?’

She eyed him suspiciously. The notion that there was something going on behind that smooth, charismatic façade didn’t dissipate. In fact, it escalated as he stared down at her, his features enigmatic save for that smile that lingered on his wide, sexy mouth.

‘Why do you want to help me?’ Again she tried to take back her hand but he held on, one thumb smoothing over her inner wrist. Blood surged through her veins at his touch, her pulse racing at the spot that he so expertly explored.

‘Because I’m hoping it would persuade you to have lunch with me tomorrow,’ he replied.

His gaze flicked across the table. Although his expression didn’t change, she again sensed the tension that hovered on the edge of his civility. This man didn’t like her family. Which begged the question: what was he doing here investing in their company?

He swung that intense stare back to her and she lost her train of thought. Grabbing it back, she shook her head.

‘I’ll have to refuse the lunch offer, I’m afraid. I have other plans.’

‘Dinner, then?’

‘I have plans then, too. Besides, don’t you have business with my father tomorrow?’

‘Our business won’t take longer than me signing on a dotted line.’

‘A dotted line that gives you a permanent controlling share in my family’s company?’

His eyes gleamed. ‘Not permanent. Only until I have what I want.’

CHAPTER THREE

‘AND WHAT IS IT you want?’

‘For now? Lunch. Tomorrow. With you.’ Another pass of his thumb over her pulse.

Another roll of sensation deep in her belly. The temptation to say yes suddenly overcame her, despite the warning bells shrieking at the back of her mind.

She forced herself to heed those warning bells. Her painfully short foray into a relationship had taught her that good looks and charm often hid an agenda that would most likely not benefit her or her heart. And Theo Pantelides had metaphorical skull and crossbones stamped all over him.

‘The answer is still no,’ she replied, a lot sharper than she’d intended.

His lips compressed but he shrugged. As if her answer hadn’t fazed him.

And it probably hadn’t. He was one of those men who drew women like bees to pollen. He could probably secure a lunch date with half of the women in this room and tempt the other married half into sin should he choose to.

With his dark, exquisite looks and deep sexy voice, he could have any woman he chose to display even the mildest interest in.

The thought that he would do just such a thing punched so fierce a reaction in her belly that she suppressed a shocked gasp.

What on earth is wrong with me? She needed to get herself back under control before she did something foolish—like discard her plans for tomorrow in favour of spending more time with this infuriatingly self-assured, visually stunning man.

Giving herself a fierce pep talk, she pulled her hand from his grasp.

She folded her hand in her lap and wrapped her other hand over her wrist. But suddenly her own touch felt…inadequate.

She was saved from exploring the peculiar feeling when the lights dimmed and the projector started reeling pictures of miles and miles of rusted shingle roofs that formed the world famous Rio favelas.

Her father climbed onto the podium to begin his speech.

The tale of despair-driven prostitution, violence, gang warfare and kidnapping of innocents, and the need to do whatever was needed to help was one she’d heard at many fund-raisers and charity dinners.

She clenched her fist. Knowing that half the people in here, dripping in diamonds and tuxedos worth several thousand dollars, would’ve forgotten the plight of the favela residents by the time dessert was served made her silently scream in frustration.

The need to get up, to walk out almost overwhelmed her but she stayed put.

There would be no running. No walking away from the work she’d committed herself to, nor walking away from the formative minds that were depending on her.

Fierce pride tightened her chest at the part she was playing in the young lives under her charge. And the fact that she’d managed to change that part of her own life without her father or brother’s interference.

She refocused as her father finished his speech to rousing applause. The projector was shut off and the lights grew brighter.

She reached forward for her glass of wine and noticed that she was once again the focus of Theo’s gaze.

‘Should I be offended that I’m being so comprehensively ignored?’ he asked.

‘It’s not a state you’re used to, I expect?’ With her surroundings once more in focus, she noticed the looks he was getting from women on other tables. She didn’t delude herself that any of them were interested in his views on politics or world peace. No, each and every one of them would vie for much more personal, much more physical contact with the lean, broad-shouldered man next to her, whose hands casually caressed his wine glass stem in a way that made her think indecent thoughts.

She noticed the young famous actress on the next table where Theo should have been sitting gazing over at him, and again felt the sharp edge of an unknown emotion pierce her insides.

His smile grew hard. ‘You’d be surprised.’

Curiosity brought her gaze back to his. ‘Would I? How?’

‘That question makes me think you’ve formed an opinion of me.’

‘And that answer convinces me that you’re very good at deflecting. You may fool others, but you do not fool me.’

He stared at her for a moment before one corner of his mouth lifted. Abruptly, he stood and held out his hand. ‘Dance with me, anjo, and enlighten me further as to what you think you know about me.’

The demand was silky and yet implacable. In full view of the other guests, her refusal would be extremely discourteous.

Her heart hammered as she slowly slid her hand into his and let him draw her to her feet.

Emotions she was trying and failing to suppress flared up at the warmth and firmness of his grip. Fervently, she prayed for time to speed up, for the evening to end so she could be free of this man. Her reaction to him was puzzling in the extreme and the notion that she was being toyed with unsettled her more with each passing second.

As they skirted the table to head for the dance floor, her gaze met her father’s. Expecting approval for accommodating the man whose business he was so obviously keen to garner, she was taken aback when she saw his icy disapproval.

Through the elite Rio grapevine she knew Alfonso Delgado’s net worth and knew he couldn’t afford to acquire a controlling share of Da Costa Holdings. So why did her father disapprove of a man who was clearly superior in monetary worth to Alfonso?