The Greek Tycoon's Mistress. Julia James

      ‘With the emphasis on hook—as in hooker,’ she said bitingly. ‘God, Chris.’ She kicked off her other shoe and flexed her aching ankles. ‘Thanks to that dress you poured me into, Theo Atrides looked at me like I was some kind of tart!’

      A shiver went through her at the memory of the way Demos’s cousin had looked her over—and more than looked…

      But Chris was not dismayed. ‘That’s brilliant, Lea—just what we wanted! He’s got to think Demos is totally captivated by his sexy little mistress! Speaking of sexy—’ he caught her shoulders ‘—you, darling, look absolutely edible! Yum, yum!’

      Leandra was in no mood for his foolery. Reaction and revulsion were setting in with a vengeance.

      ‘Leave off, Chris!’ she said, pushing his hands off her shoulders and heading towards the bathroom. ‘I need to get out of this ridiculous costume!’

      The evening had been far more of an ordeal than she had thought it would be—thanks to that wretched dress and Theo Atrides! She stepped out of the shower and towelled herself vigorously. It had seemed so easy, as well as a good deed, to pretend to be Demos’s mistress. All she’d had to do was move into the spare bedroom in Demos’s luxury apartment and spend the last three weeks appearing to be living with him—until his family finally got the message that he wasn’t coming home to marry Sofia Allessandros.

      Leandra stared at her reflection as she combed out the knots in her wet hair, her face set. Had tonight’s performance been sufficiently convincing? Would the Atrideses finally leave him in peace now?

      She hoped so—with a shudder she knew she couldn’t face another encounter with Theo Atrides. Her nerves couldn’t stand it.

      A sudden shaft of depression hit her. Theo Atrides was the most incredibly attractive male she’d ever laid eyes on, and he’d seen her as nothing more than a sexy, trashy tart.

      But what if he hadn’t?

      Her comb paused and her imagination took flight. She saw herself, gowned in black still, but soft velvet, long, sweeping the ground, its modest décolletage set with a single white rose, her hair caught in a low, elegant chignon at the nape of her neck, her make-up subtle, her perfume elusive…

      If Theo Atrides had seen her looking like that then perhaps those heavy-lidded eyes would have gazed at her quite differently, mused Leandra dreamily. Sensually, yes, but without that offensive glint of contempt he hadn’t bothered to hide. His eyes would have shown nothing but the desire of man for woman. As old as time. An eternal hunger yearning to be sated.

      She sighed, beguiled by her own impossible vision. Then, abruptly, she sobered. Struggling actresses, whatever they wore, were not his fare. And even if they were, she added crushingly, it wouldn’t do you any good! Even filmstar Madeleine Fareham with her precious Oscar hadn’t gone the distance! The papers were full of her marrying her latest costar on the rebound from Theo Atrides!

      Decisively, Leandra tugged the last of the knots from her newly washed hair as if she were tugging something out of her that had just taken root—a weed that looked like an orchid but was really nothing more than poison ivy.

      Back in the lounge, Chris and Demos were drinking coffee. Leandra, swathed in a towelling robe, poured herself a cup and collapsed next to Chris. He put his arm around her shoulder.

      ‘Better now?’ he asked sympathetically.

      She nodded. ‘Yes. Sorry—but, honestly, the way you dressed me up—I just felt so exposed! And Demos’s cousin looked at me like I was some kind of total floozie! It was horrible! Still…’ she took a deep breath ‘…it’s all over now. Thank goodness. Oh, Demos.’ She leant forward and tossed the diamond earrings in his lap. ‘Here you go.’

      He caught them and put them on the coffee table. Then he met Leandra’s eyes.

      ‘Lea—thank you. Thank you a thousand times.’ He sounded embarrassed. ‘And I am sorry that my cousin behaved towards you in such a disrespectful way.’

      Leandra held up a hand. She didn’t want Demos feeling bad about it.

      ‘It’s OK,’ she said lightly, playing it down. ‘I’ll survive. And, hey, it’s like Chris says—that was the whole plan—to make me look like a rich man’s sex toy. I should be glad he believed it!’

      She looked down into her coffee cup. Oh, Theo Atrides had believed she was a sex toy all right! Memory leapt at her, searing her belly with its heat as she felt again the echo of his hand taking hers, kissing her palm…the touch of his flickering tongue…

      Beneath the protectively thick towelling robe she could feel her breasts tighten.

      Angry mortification filled her. She could tell herself all she liked that it had been hateful to be treated like that, but she knew she was a liar.

      Theo Atrides had had an effect on her that she had never encountered in her life before. It had overwhelmed her, blasted her out of the sky like a fireball…

      She’d been helpless, totally helpless. If he’d wanted, he could have taken her hand and led her away from Demos—led her away to a private room and folded her against his body, lowered that hard, mobile mouth to hers and done anything he wanted to her…anything at all…

      She stared down into her coffee, appalled by this shaming realisation.

      A shudder went through her as she fought to throw his image, his memory, out of her mind.

      ‘Lea—are you all right?’

      She jerked her head up. ‘I’m fine—fine. Just tired, that’s all.’

      Chris was looking at her closely.

      ‘Did the bastard get to you, Lea?’ he asked quietly. At his side Demos stiffened at this cavalier description of the cousin he had always looked up to, but he said nothing.

      Leandra bit her lip. She could deny the way she’d reacted to Theo Atrides, but it wouldn’t fool either of them for long. She might as well admit it now.

      ‘Yes,’ she acknowledged. ‘But it doesn’t matter—all that matters is that he leaves Demos alone now.’

      She made her voice bright and cheerful and decided she had to just pull herself together. It didn’t matter a jot that she had all but melted over Theo Atrides. It didn’t matter that he was the most devastating male she had ever seen. It didn’t even matter that he thought her nothing but a wind-up sex toy.

      She would never set eyes on him again.

      Theo Atrides had come and gone in her life. He wouldn’t be back.

      CHAPTER TWO

      THEO stared moodily out over Hyde Park from the penthouse suite where he and his grandfather were staying. The trees had turned autumnal already; summer was over.

      His mood was grim. Demos had just left, and the exchange with Milo had not been pleasant. When his grandfather had finished lecturing him on duty, responsibility, family and Sofia Allessandros waiting in Athens for him to deign to turn up, Demos had stubbornly repeated what he’d said to Theo the night before. He wasn’t ready to get married. That was all. He was enjoying his bachelor life.

      Then he’d walked out.

      Theo turned back towards Milo.

      ‘You are so sure of this marriage?’ he heard himself ask.

      Milo flashed him a dark look from eyes which, though wrinkled, were still keen and sharp.

      ‘Demos needs a good marriage. Sofia Allessandros is just the girl for him.’

      Theo paused. ‘I know,’ he said carefully, ‘that you are in a hurry. But can’t you give him more time? It’s his life, Milo.’

      The dark, shrewd eyes stared at him.

      ‘I’m worried about him,’