The Greek Tycoon's Revenge. Jacqueline Baird

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      ‘You’re not a tease, I hope?’ his deep voice demanded hardily and she glanced back at him. ‘I abhor women who lead a man on, lie with their body.’

      ‘No. No.’ Eloise could not bear him to look at her so cynically. ‘It’s just, I… Well, I haven’t.’ She could feel her skin getting even hotter but it was not with excitement, it was with embarrassment. He was a twenty-nine-year-old sophisticated man of the world; how could she tell him…? ‘I’ve never, I haven’t—’ She lowered her lashes over her too revealing eyes, and swallowed hard. ‘I’m a virgin.’

      ‘A virgin?’ he exclaimed. ‘You’re not protected.’ His black eyes widened in stunned amazement, and then narrowed at her guileless face, the blush that suffused her skin, and a slow smile parted his sensual mouth. ‘Ah,’ he murmured and from that moment on his whole attitude changed.

      Marcus was transformed from a sophisticated sensual male on the make, into a tender, caring companion. The rest of the day he treated her like some rare species of the female sex, though he could not stop touching her. But his touch was light on her silken skin, the few kisses they shared undemanding. When they parted later that night with a promise to meet again the next day, the kiss he pressed on her soft lips started as a gentle good night and quickly developed into a passionate embrace. But with iron self-control he ended it with a curse in Greek and a softly mouthed promise. ‘I am going to make everything perfect for you, Eloise.’

      Eloise went to bed that night with a head full of dreams of love and marriage, and the next morning Marcus arrived and told her his father was ill, he had to leave, she had been sad, but not unduly worried, as he’d promised to return.

      Yawning wildly, Eloise rolled over onto her side and burrowing deeper under the duvet. March in England was cold. Not like Greece, she thought wryly. But then her Greek dream had ended long ago and she would do better to forget the memories, and get on with her life today. She would go out to dinner with Marcus for old times’ sake, but that was all it would be, all it could be, now…

      ‘We’ve done it, girls.’ Harry came dashing into the basement workroom, with Jeff hot on his heels, waving a bottle of champagne, and a grinning Ted Charlton bringing up the rear.

      Eloise looked up from her drawing board and Katy put the soldering tool down carefully on the workbench and slowly stood up, her eyes flicking from Harry to the older man.

      ‘You’re sure, Mr Charlton? Aren’t you supposed to be looking after the showroom, Jeff?’ she said sternly, but her brown eyes were alight with excitement.

      ‘I’m sure, lady.’ Ted chuckled. ‘So sure I have persuaded your husband and Jeff here to close the showroom and let me take everyone out to lunch to celebrate.’

      Eloise said nothing but the grin on her face said it all.

      Five minutes later, the bottle of champagne was opened and the five all raised their glasses. ‘To KHE, Paris. Thanks to you, Ted.’ Harry made the toast.

      Over lunch the deal was discussed. The money Ted was investing would be used for the creation of a KHE boutique in Paris. Better still, Ted actually knew of a property for lease on the Rue St Honoré, one of the most fashionable streets in Paris, and he reckoned if Harry got in quick it could be theirs. Harry had already made the booking for his flight to France the next day and a meeting with the owners, and he had the cheque for the first instalment of Ted’s financing in his pocket.

      The entry phone rang, and Eloise cast a last hasty look at her reflection in the mirrored door of the wardrobe. She grimaced slightly. She had tried for the sophisticated look, and had swept up her hair in a French pleat, and apart from the black skirt she had worn last night, she was wearing the only thing she possessed that was not casual: the suit she had bought for Katy’s wedding. A fine wool jade green suit in a classic style, the jacket short and with a matching camisole underneath, the straight skirt ending an inch above her knees, and kitten-heeled black pumps on her feet. Conservative, she told herself, except for the intricately set silver and amber pendant around her neck and the matching amber earrings, both her own designs.

      Katy had been right last night when she’d made Eloise borrow the gold camisole. It was way past time Eloise updated her wardrobe. But, working behind the scenes in the jewellery business designing and manufacturing, her wardrobe consisted of jeans and sweaters, and a few voluminous Indian cotton caftans, for when the weather was hot. But it was too late to worry about the state of her wardrobe now and, snatching up her purse, she dashed from the bedroom through to the sitting room to the door of her apartment, just as someone knocked on the door.

      Surprised for a second, she hesitated and the knock sounded again, and she opened the door.

      Marcus was leaning negligently against the doorframe, wearing a superbly elegant dark blue suit, and looking every inch the incredibly attractive, sophisticated male of her dreams.

      Heat prickled her skin. ‘How did you get in?’ she demanded. It was not the opening she had planned, it sounded rather aggressive even to her own ears.

      ‘Hello to you, too.’ A sardonic brow arched. ‘Shall I go out and start again.’

      ‘N-no, of course not.’ Eloise stammered, badly shaken by her instant response to his powerful presence.

      ‘Relax, Eloise, your friend Harry downstairs opened the front door.’ He smiled.

      His smile dazzled her and, with his hand at her elbow supporting her, Eloise felt vaguely protected and actually did manage to relax slightly. ‘Harry and Katy are my business partners,’ she offered.

      ‘He sounded more like your guardian.’ Marcus remarked with a wry twist of his lips. ‘He managed, in the space of less than a minute, to ask me who I was, where I was taking you, and what time I intended bringing you back.’

      ‘That sounds like Harry,’ Eloise confirmed with a chuckle, as they exited the outer door to the street. ‘Katy and I met him when we were at art college and looking for somewhere to live. He managed the estate agents, and he took one look at Katy and fell in love. He found us an apartment, and was never away from the door until Katy agreed to go out with him, and now they are married.’

      ‘A determined man; I like that,’ Marcus offered, as he opened the passenger door of a sleek black car and ushered Eloise inside.

      Starting the engine and driving off, Marcus shot her a brief sidelong glance and said, ‘I intended taking you to a rather nice French restaurant, but I’m expecting a call from the west coast of America some time this evening so I’ve arranged for us to dine at my hotel. I hope you don’t mind.’

      Stilling a panicked shiver, Eloise cast a glance at his perfectly chiselled profile, Marcus wasn’t a stranger and it wasn’t their first date, so why was she hesitating?

      ‘Eloise.’ He flicked her a quizzical smile. ‘It was either the hotel, or cancelling our dinner date.’ It wasn’t a lie—he was expecting a call—but also he wanted her on her own when he challenged her to explain her part in the scam her mother had pulled on his uncle.

      ‘Yes, yes. That’s perfectly all right.’ She burst into speech. She was being stupid; she was twenty-four, not fourteen, and with a man who was no stranger to her, for heaven’s sake, she told herself firmly.

      The hotel was one of the best in London, and walking across the vast foyer with Marcus at her side, his hand gently at her elbow guiding her, she was glad she had taken time with her appearance. She was congratulating herself on her ability to mingle with the best, when Marcus stopped in front of a bank of elevators.

      ‘Are we eating in the rooftop restaurant?’ she asked, excitement bubbling in her veins. Walking into the elevator, she turned her sparkling green gaze up to his face adding, ‘I’ve heard of it; the view is supposed to be marvellous.’

      Intent dark eyes watched her apparently simple delight. ‘Not exactly; we are dining in the penthouse suite,’ Marcus drawled. ‘But the view is equally as good. I know because I own the hotel.’