The Mediterranean Tycoon. Margaret Mayo

with him.

      But she also saw Andreas the man, the incredibly sexy man. She was able to look at him without fear. She was able to look at those liquid brown eyes with their long curling lashes, at the sensuality of firm, full lips, and she even allowed herself to wonder what it would be like to be kissed by him.

      With horror she realised that she had let her mind drift, that she hadn’t heard what had just been said, and Andreas Papadakis’s eyes were shooting daggers. The man never missed a thing! But thankfully he asked Peter Miller to repeat what he had said, as though he himself hadn’t fully heard. And after that Peta was careful not to let her mind wander.

      So much was said, so much discussed, that Peta knew it would take her hours to type up the notes. Hours she didn’t have. Unless, of course, she could wangle a laptop out of him and take it home. It would solve the problem of asking Marnie to look after Ben and she would be able to spend precious hours with her son.

      The afternoon fled and it was soon time for dinner; time to change into the dress that filled her with horror whenever she thought about it. Andreas had booked her a room and she was able to shower and take a short rest before making up her face and doing her hair.

      Peta rarely wore much make-up but this evening she felt that she needed some protective armour, something to make her feel good in the dark green dress. And so on went the foundation and the blusher, the eye shadow and mascara, and a much deeper-pink lipstick than she normally used.

      Finally she was ready, and at almost the same time her employer tapped on the door. Peta awaited his reaction, dreading it, not surprised when he slowly and carefully eyed her up and down. It sent a whole gamut of emotions rushing through her as she stood there and suffered his appraisal, notwithstanding the fact that he looked totally devastating in his dinner suit.

      He missed nothing. Not the way the satin material defined the curve of her hips, the flatness of her stomach, or the soft roundness of her breasts. It had been horrendously expensive, according to Sue, and made Peta look taller and extremely elegant. And yet all she was aware of was how low the neckline dipped and the way Andreas Papadakis’s eyes had lingered there.

      She even caught a glimpse of desire, gone in an instant, and she might have imagined it because all he did was slowly nod his head in approval. ‘Let’s join the others,’ he said crisply.

      The more she thought about it the surer Peta was that she’d been mistaken. He didn’t even compliment her, which was the least he could have done, considering the way she’d put herself out for him.

      Nevertheless she drew admiring glances from the other delegates, which went some way to appeasing her, and although conversation over the meal still rested on business it was far less formal and there was no need for her to take any notes.

      She was extremely conscious of sitting by Andreas’s side and wished he had placed her somewhere else. She was the only female present—obviously the other men had seen no reason to bring their secretaries—and it was only sheer stubbornness that made her get through the evening without feeling uncomfortable.

      Andreas, to give him his due, didn’t ignore her. He included her in all conversations, surprising her sometimes by asking her opinion, listening attentively when she spoke. Peta had worked for the company long enough to have formed her own ideas, and was able to contribute successfully.

      The only problem was sitting close to Andreas. He had an indefinable charisma, which she was sure even the men must feel, although not in the same way as she did. He was capable of controlling a room full of people with a word and a look, but she couldn’t control the tingle of her senses. It had begun faintly and grown with every passing minute until her veins fairly sizzled.

      It was idiotic of her to feel such a response, and yet there was nothing she could do to stop it. She had never for one moment expected, when she was summoned to work for him, that he would evoke such feelings in her. They were contrary to every thought she had, contrary and undesirable. Sex had never played an important part in her life, not after Joe, and she couldn’t understand why this man aroused her baser instincts now.

      By the end of the evening she wished that she’d never come, and when he offered to take her home Peta shook her head. ‘It’s all right, I’ll get a taxi.’ In the confines of his car her torture would be even worse.

      ‘No, you won’t,’ he stated firmly, ‘and if your refusal is because I’ve had a few drinks, there’s no need to worry because my driver is waiting for us.’

      There was no way out.

      Peta took her time collecting her coat and bag, willing her hormones to settle down and ignore this magnificently sexy male who just happened to be her boss. Lord, if only he knew! She’d be out of a job like a shot, or—an even more terrifying thought—he’d take advantage. He’d use her!

      Her face was serious when she finally joined him in the hotel foyer. This last thought had scared her, made her realise how stupid she was being. ‘I’m ready,’ she said abruptly.

      He gave her a strange look but said nothing, slipping into the car beside her and giving his driver her address. He sank back into the soft leather seat and closed his eyes. Peta huddled into her corner and closed her eyes, too, hoping to ignore him. Impossible! She could still smell his distinctive cologne, sense his powerful body so near to hers. There was enough space between them for another person but it made no difference. He was still far too close for comfort.

      ‘You’ve done a good job today, Peta.’

      His voice made her eyes snap open. He was looking at her from beneath half-closed lids. A lazy, sensual look that set her nerves on edge again.

      ‘I appreciate it. And good work needs rewarding.’ He leaned towards her and Peta panicked. What sort of reward was he talking about? A kiss? More than that? She shrank even further into the seat.

      ‘You’ll see a handsome bonus in your pay cheque at the end of the month.’

      Peta breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I’ve not typed my notes out yet,’ she pointed out. ‘You might be disappointed.’

      ‘I don’t think so. You’re by far the best assistant I’ve had in a long time.’

      ‘In that case,’ she said, taking advantage of one of his rare moments of companionship, ‘could I take a laptop home to do the notes? I really won’t have time at the office and I don’t want to work late and leave Ben again.’

      ‘Consider it done,’ he said. ‘He needs you as much as I do.’

      Peta must have shown her surprise because he added, ‘Believe me, Peta, I do appreciate that you have a home life. I press people hard, I know—it’s the only way to get anything done—but I too have a life outside work.’

      ‘You do? I thought there was nothing more important than turning around ailing businesses.’

      ‘I know I give that impression. I’ve always worked hard.’

      ‘So what do you do outside work hours?’ she asked, amazing herself by her temerity.

      ‘I too have a son,’ he admitted. ‘A son who complains that he never sees enough of me.’

      His confession stunned Peta. Of all the rumours that had spread through the company, this wasn’t one of them.

      ‘You look surprised.’

      ‘I am. I didn’t know; I didn’t realise; I thought…’ Her voice tailed off in confusion.

      ‘You thought I was a workaholic, maybe even a bit of a playboy in my spare time? I do know what’s being said about me, Peta.’

      ‘But you don’t care to correct it?’

      ‘My private life is just that—private. I prefer it to remain that way.’

      ‘You can rest assured I’ll say nothing,’ she said, and at that moment they drew up outside her house.

      ‘Wait!’ He