The Greek's Bought Wife. HELEN BIANCHIN

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The Greek's Bought Wife - HELEN  BIANCHIN


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quick, economical movements she collected black silk evening trousers, an emerald green silk camisole, matching jacket, and headed for the en suite.

      A few minutes, minimum make-up, a vigorous brush through her hair, and she was done. When she emerged it took only seconds to step into stiletto heels, then transfer money and keys into an evening purse.

      Tina was conscious of his appraisal, and deliberately arched an eyebrow. ‘Shall we leave?’

      They rode the lift down to the basement car park, and within minutes Tina followed Nic’s black Lexus to the trendy heart of Double Bay, parked, then accompanied him into a small, intimate restaurant filled with patrons.

      The maître d’ greeted Nic with the obsequious fervour reserved for a favoured patron, personally escorted them to a table, saw them seated and summoned the drink steward.

      Prestigious, known for its fine cuisine, and expensive, Tina acknowledged as she cast the room a casual glance.

      The service was excellent, and she requested mineral water, chose a starter as a main meal, and settled back in her chair.

      The steward brought their drinks, served them with deferential good humour, then retreated.

      ‘You eat here often.’ It was a statement, not a query, and Nic subjected her to a solemn appraisal.

      ‘Whenever I’m in Sydney.’

      Uh-huh. The Leandros corporation had its main base in Melbourne. Vasili’s parents resided there. So did Nic, Vasili had relayed…in between business trips to New York, London, Athens and Rome.

      ‘I imagine you’ll acquaint your parents with my decision?’

      He fingered the stem of his wine goblet with deliberate distraction. ‘When we’re done with it.’

      She held his gaze. ‘There is no when.’

      ‘What if I were to suggest an alternative option?’ Nic paused, then added, ‘Or two.’

      She took a sip of icy liquid. ‘There are none.’

      ‘Adoption,’ he presented with deceptive mildness. ‘For a mutually agreed sum.’

      Tina froze, temporarily unable to utter so much as a word for several long seconds before anger ignited and threatened to explode. ‘You have to be joking.’

      ‘One million dollars.’

      She opened her mouth, then closed it again as she found her voice. ‘Go to hell,’ she managed in a fierce undertone as she collected her evening purse and stood to her feet.

      ‘Two million.’

      Tina registered the calmness apparent in his voice, and barely controlled the urge to throw something at him.

      ‘Three.’

      Incredulity was uppermost. She turned, only to come to a halt as her arm was caught in a firm grasp. She directed him a vehement glare that would have felled a lesser man. ‘Let me go!’

      His eyes held hers, their expression impossible to read. ‘Sit down. Please,’ he added with chilling softness. ‘There are other options.’

      ‘I don’t see how you can top it,’ Tina ventured savagely.

      ‘Marriage.’ He paused fractionally. ‘To me.’

      For a few heart-stopping seconds she remained transfixed with shock. It took her time to find her voice. ‘Are you insane?’

      She picked up the glass and tossed the contents at him in a wildly spontaneous action, watching as he dodged the icy mineral water, and saw it hit his shoulder and cascade down his jacket, his shirt.

      In the next instant the glass slipped from her fingers, hit the table, and slid onto the tiled floor to splinter into countless shards.

      Tina was vaguely aware of the steward’s presence, his concern, the removal of glass and mopping up operation. She even recalled offering an apology.

      And heard Nic’s drawling explanation. ‘It’s not often a man receives such an unusual reaction to his marriage proposal.’

      She was vaguely aware of the steward’s effusive congratulations, and the news took wing and spread.

      Somehow she was no longer standing, but seated opposite the arrogant, ruthless man who had, she strongly suspected, stage-managed precisely this scenario.

      ‘Retract it, and do it now,’ Tina said in a fierce undertone.

      ‘A marriage mutually convenient to both of us,’ Nic continued silkily. ‘It will give Vasili’s child legitimacy and a legal place within the Leandros hierarchy.’

      Her voice dripped ice. ‘Haven’t you forgotten something?’

      A cameraman appeared out of nowhere and a camera flash temporarily blinded her.

      ‘I won’t be a part of it.’

      ‘No?’ Nic ventured silkily. ‘Be warned, I can be your friend…or your worst nightmare.’

      CHAPTER TWO

      SUDDENLY it all fell into place, and Tina hated him. Truly hated him.

      ‘This is the ultimate manipulative manoeuvre, isn’t it?’

      Everything about the evening up to this point had been a farce. The child she carried was of prime importance. The only importance.

      ‘A process of elimination.’ His drawled admission caused the breath to catch in her throat.

      ‘You thought I was a money-grubbing bitch with an eye to the main chance?’ Anger tore at her control when he didn’t answer. ‘You bastard.’ The accusation whispered silkily from her lips.

      His expression didn’t change, nor did his gaze waver from her own. ‘It was a possibility I had to consider.’

      Tina attempted a deep calming breath, and cursed softly when it had no effect whatsoever. ‘Should I surmise you’ve also run a routine check?’

      She had nothing to hide, except one incident on record. He couldn’t have delved that far, surely?

      ‘Private schooling, love of sport, father killed in an accident when you were seventeen.’ He paused for a few seconds. ‘Assaulted a year later by an intruder during a home invasion.’

      Tina felt the colour leach from her face as she fought to control the vivid image obliterating her vision. In an instant she was back there in her bedroom, home alone in the apartment she’d shared with her mother, waking to an unusual sound close by, scared out of her wits in the knowledge someone was in her room.

      The guttural voice, the stale smell of unwashed clothing…one hard hand clamped over her mouth while the other tossed aside bedcovers and ripped the thin nightshirt from her body. She’d fought like a demon, lashing out with her feet, her hands…

      Nine years had passed since that frightening night. She’d had therapy, learnt coping mechanisms and acquired combat skills.

      Her determination to be a survivor not a victim had left her with an almost obsessive need for security measures, a mistrust of men…and a legacy of infrequent nightmares.

      ‘Assaulted, but not raped,’ Tina managed quietly. Although it had come close. Too close. He’d hurt her, broken her arm, fractured three of her ribs.

      ‘You were hospitalised.’

      So he’d gained access to the medical report.

      ‘Did you also unearth a speeding ticket, a few parking violations?’ She was like a speeding train, unable to stop. ‘Run a check my taxes are paid to date?’

      His steady gaze was unnerving as the silence stretched between them.

      ‘I’m suggesting a marriage in name only,’ Nic offered in a faintly


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