Greek Tycoon's Mistletoe Proposal. Kandy Shepherd
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grace. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders in a bright, untamed mass. It framed even features, pale skin flushed high on her cheekbones and those extraordinary blue eyes. Without even trying, she seemed classy.
He was still irritated by her outrageous incursion into his privacy. But Lukas’s irritation began to dissipate as an idea began to form. An idea that could help him solve a particularly bothersome problem that, for all his business smarts, had him stumped. The problem had been plaguing him ever since his meeting at The Shard this afternoon. And it could impede the success of the business expansion he was determined to achieve.
But first he had to assess Ashleigh Murphy’s suitability for what he had in mind. In the right clothes, her looks would pass muster. But he needed to find out more about her background, see if she was capable of what else was required.
Curtly, he indicated she take the chair on the other side of his desk. She put her backpack on the floor beside her and sat down. He made her wait while he tapped out some notations on his tablet. She sat up straight and appeared composed. Her attempt to mask her discomfort, perhaps even fear, at the situation in which she’d found herself was impressive. But she betrayed her anxiety in the way she shifted in her seat, her overly tight grip on the arms of the chair. In other circumstances, he would have put her at her ease. At this time, he felt it wouldn’t hurt for her to squirm a little before he hit her with his demand.
He lifted his head to face her full on. ‘I need to decide what course of action to take against the person I found basking in my bathtub instead of cleaning it.’
She flinched and the flush deepened on her cheekbones. ‘Please, I can’t apologise enough. I know how wrong it was to do what I did.’ Her speaking voice, as opposed to her singing voice, was pleasant and well modulated.
‘How long did you intend to stay here in my home?’
‘Tonight. Then I—’
‘You mean for as long as you could get away with it?’
‘No!’
Lukas didn’t reply. He’d learned silence often elicited more information than another question.
‘Until I could find somewhere I could afford to live. I’m expecting a funds transfer from home any day. I...I haven’t been working for Maids in Chelsea long enough to ask for an advance.’
She might not appear like the typical backpacker but it seemed she was as perpetually broke. That might play well into his hands.
‘What kind of visa are you on that allows you to work in the UK?’
‘No visa. My father is English by birth. I have an EU passport and the right of abode here.’
‘Yet you live in Australia?’
‘My grandparents emigrated when my father was a child. But we lived in Manchester for two years when I was a teenager while my father studied for his PhD.’
‘Your father is an academic?’
‘He’s the principal of a secondary school in Bundaberg in Queensland where we live.’
‘And your mother?’
‘She’s a schoolteacher too.’ She tilted her head to one side in query. ‘I don’t know what that has to do with me doing the wrong thing here.’
‘It interests me,’ he said. She interested him.
She bit her lip, as if against a retort she wouldn’t dare utter considering the precariousness of her situation.
‘Have you always been a maid?’
‘Of course not.’ She spat out the words then backpedalled. ‘Not that there’s anything wrong with being a maid. In fact I consider myself to be a very good maid, and waitress and front-of-house person—all learned since I’ve been in London. But my real job is something quite different. I’m an accountant. I have a degree in commerce from the University of Queensland.’
‘You—’
She put up her hand in a halt sign. ‘Don’t say it. If I had a dollar for every time someone told me I don’t look like an accountant I’d be a wealthy woman.’
Lukas had to suppress a smile. That was exactly what he had been about to say. Of course there was no reason a woman so exquisitely feminine shouldn’t be an accountant—it just made her even more interesting that she didn’t fit the mould of an outmoded stereotype.
‘You manage money for a living, yet you end up homeless in a big, ruthless city?’ he said.
‘Circumstances beyond my control,’ she said, tight-lipped.
‘Were you brought up by your family to be honest?’
Her eyes flashed with barely concealed outrage. ‘Of course I was.’
‘I could ask you to tip out the contents of your backpack for me to check, then to turn out your pockets.’
Her chin lifted. ‘To see if I’ve stolen anything? I’d be more than happy for you to search my bag.’ She gripped the arms of the chair and leaned forward. ‘Go ahead. I have nothing to hide. But ask me to undergo a body search and it will be me calling the police.’
Lukas found he couldn’t meet her fierce glare. He swallowed hard in distaste at his own actions. He had taken this too far. He had no desire to burrow through her personal belongings. Or undertake anything as intrusive as a body search. That would be...sleazy and he was not that kind of man. ‘I’ll take your word for it,’ he said gruffly.
She nodded but her lips were pressed tight.
One of the reasons he’d been able to lift his family company from the verge of bankruptcy to a business turning over in the multiples of millions was his ability to read people. Every instinct told him this young woman had been foolish but not dishonest.
‘I know Maids in Chelsea are scrupulous in the background checking of their employees,’ he said. ‘I assume the same was done for you.’
She rolled her eyes, just slightly, but he didn’t miss it. It was an action he found unwarranted—but perhaps he would have done the same if he were on the other side of the desk.
‘I can assure you I have no criminal record back in Australia,’ she said. ‘All I’m guilty of is an error of judgement. I know it was wrong of me and I reiterate my apology.’
‘You admit you have slept under my roof. No doubt you were planning to spend tonight here too?’
‘Yes. But it was only until—’
Lukas looked down at his tablet. ‘I’ve calculated how much three nights at a West End hotel of equivalent comfort would cost you.’ He named a figure that made her gasp. ‘You owe me.’
Ms Murphy paled and he could see a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose. ‘But I can’t afford it. If I could pay that I would have gone to one of those hotels in the first place.’
He leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers under his chin. ‘That’s really not my concern,’ he said.
Lukas didn’t like threatening her. But she could be a solution to his problem. And once he’d made up his mind on a course of action, he didn’t stop until he’d got what he wanted.
‘I...I can’t,’ she said. ‘I just can’t pay that.’ Her lush, wide mouth trembled. ‘You’d best call the police.’
Bravado or bravery? Whatever it was, he admired her spirit.
He narrowed his eyes. ‘There’s no need for me to call the police. I have a way you can pay off your debt to me without money exchanging hands. Something not very arduous that you might even enjoy.’
* * *
Ashleigh was up and out of her chair so fast she tripped on her backpack and had to steady herself against the desk. She could hardly believe