Kostas's Convenient Bride. Lucy Monroe

you threatening me?” Jacob asked, sounding unimpressed.

      Andreas stepped forward so he towered over the other man. “My suit is bespoke, not Armani, and if you knew the difference, you might understand that I would make a very unpleasant enemy.”

      Kayla laid her hand on Jacob’s arm before he could reply. “Don’t. He’s right. He’s talking about major money, Jacob.”

      “I don’t care about his money, Kayla.”

      She smiled up at the actor, really liking the man, wishing again she felt even an inkling of sexual attraction to go with the liking, something that would make fighting Andreas worth it. But she wasn’t putting Jacob’s career at risk for principle alone.

      “No, I know. You’re a special guy. Good to your sister. Fun.”

      Andreas made a displeased sound.

      Kayla ignored him. “I would have enjoyed tonight more than I think either of us could imagine.”

      “I’m an actor, I have a great imagination.” Jacob’s drawl was only slightly less suggestive than his wink.

      She laughed. “I bet, but if I go with you, he’s just going to follow us around. He’ll figure out a way to ruin our evening.” To ruin Jacob’s career, or at least his current role.

      “That sounds like pretty stalkerish behavior for a boss.”

      “He used to be my best friend.”

      “Until when?” Jacob asked, with surprising insight and compassion.

      “Until yesterday morning when he told me he was selling our company out from under me.”

      Andreas made a sound that could have been hurt, but Kayla refused to look at him.

      Jacob nodded. “I’m sorry.”

      “Thank you. For what it’s worth, I was really looking forward to tonight.”

      “I don’t think it was going to end like I was hoping, though.” There was no accusation in Jacob’s tone, just rueful disappointment.

      She shrugged, but she couldn’t lie. “Probably not.”

      “It would not,” Andreas butted in with his obnoxious Greek hobnailed boots. “She doesn’t do casual sex.”

      She rounded on him. “You are such an ass.”

      “And you are the best woman I know. Apprizing Jacob of the fact you are one of the best women he has had the honor of meeting is not a bad thing.”

      Kayla stared at Andreas, speechless.

      Jacob burst out laughing. “You are one clueless bastard, aren’t you?”

      “I am a brilliant businessman.” The bewildered offense in Andreas’s tone was almost funny.

      Jacob pulled Kayla to him and laid a screen-worthy lip-lock on her. “It really was a pleasure meeting you, Kayla Jones. If you can get away from your boss while you’re in town, call and we’ll do something.”

      She grinned. “I will.”

      Andreas glowered at Jacob the entire time Kayla collected her things, giving the actor one-word answers to his conversational forays, if the Greek deigned to answer at all.

      Andreas put his hand out imperiously for her bags. “Let me help you.”

      “I’m fine.”

      He didn’t bother to argue, just waited for her to pass the packages over. Andreas had an innate sense of courtesy that her own sense of independence had never been able to win against.

      He somehow managed to get between her and Jacob so the other man could not kiss her again before they left either, all the while avoiding shaking the actor’s hand in farewell because of the packages Andreas had taken from Kayla.

      “You think you’re a slick operator, don’t you?” she demanded as they rode the elevator downward.

      “I know what I want.”

      “Really? What part of what you want has you in New York right now, Andreas? Because I really don’t understand. You want to sell the company? I can’t stop you. You want the bride pimp to find you a wife? I’m pretty sure that’s not going to happen while you’re here. So, what purpose is you being here going to serve?”

      “I’m here for you,” he said, like it should be obvious.

      “But why?”

      He didn’t answer. Not in the elevator, not when they walked out onto the crowded New York streets, not when they got into the cab he hailed. In fact, Andreas remained stubbornly mute until the cab stopped in front of their hotel, where instead of letting her out, he imperiously waved at the doorman.

      The man came over and Andreas handed over Kayla’s packages with instructions for taking them up to the suite along with a generous tip.

      “Where are we going?” she asked when Andreas got back in the cab.

      “You were going to dinner. I would not deprive you of nourishment.”

      “We could have ordered room service.”

      “You were looking forward to a night out on the town.”

      Was he kidding? “Not with you.”

      “We are still friends, Kayla.”

      “I’m not sure we are, Andreas.” It hurt to say.

      The tightening of his jaw said he didn’t like hearing it either. “Do no say that.”

      “Don’t pretend like it matters to you.”

      “Of course it matters!” he roared.

      Kayla jumped, shocked. Andreas did no lose his temper. Not with her. Not like this.

      “Six years ago, you told me how much I mattered to you. I was just too desperate to believe something else.”

      “What? What are you talking about six years ago?” He turned to face her in the back seat of the cab, green gazed laser-like focus entirely on Kayla. “I thought you were angry about the meeting yesterday.”

      Kayla could feel the tears at the back of her throat, burning in her eyes. “I did too, but it’s all part of the same thing, isn’t it? I’ve never been more than a means to an end to you. What I don’t understand is why you’re here, why you tracked me down to Jacob’s apartment, why you had to ruin my night with him. I guess I’ve never really known you, have I? I never thought you were petty.”

      “Petty?” Andreas demanded in a near roar. “The only reason that damn playboy still has his coveted role on Broadway is because he tried to protect a woman I care about very much.”

      “You don’t care about me. You have never cared about me.” Of that one fact Kayla was absolutely certain.

      She’d been the piece of the puzzle Andreas needed to get his business off the ground. The brain behind the software to make the dream a reality so he could thumb his nose at Barnabas Georgas and prove that Andreas Kostas didn’t need his father’s money or his name, or anything else from the family that had hurt him so much.

      “Turn this cab around!” Andreas sounded as out of control as she’d ever heard him, his big body fairly vibrating with stress.

      “What do you mean?” The cabbie’s hand gestured wildly. “I can’t do no U-turn. This is a one-way street, buddy.”

      “Take us back to the hotel,” Andreas demanded in only slightly lower decibels.

      Kayla crossed her arms over her chest and glared. “I thought we were going out to dinner.”

      “We are not having this conversation in front of a room full of strangers.”

      “Sounds