Greek Tycoon's Mistletoe Proposal. Kandy Shepherd
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Because she realised that if she had met this man in different circumstances she would find the idea of smooching with him more than a touch appealing.
‘It will be a business dinner,’ he said. ‘Anything...physical would have to be discreet.’
‘I get it,’ she said. Ashleigh wondered if he was subtly warning her not to form any expectations of anything other than a fake date with him.
He stood with his back to the window, his hands clasped behind him. The curtains were drawn against the cold of a December evening, but she knew the window looked down to a city-sized garden, perfectly maintained with formal clipped hedges and a centrepiece fountain. No doubt there was a team of gardeners to keep it in shape for when the absentee owner decided to drop into London.
She looked up at him, wishing she wasn’t wearing flat shoes—he was so much taller than her and his superior height seemed to emphasise the balance of power that tipped firmly in his favour. The billionaire and the maid.
‘If I agreed to your proposition, what would be the consequences for me?’ she asked.
‘No complaint would be made against you to your employer or the police.’
‘And my “debt” to you?’ That calculation of hotel rates rankled. She doubted he would be able to enforce something so spurious. But she was hardly in a position to question his methods. Not when he had every right to report her to the police.
‘Of course your debt would be wiped completely.’
‘In return for one dinner date with you and your potential business partner?’
‘Yes,’ he said.
Ashleigh didn’t ask if she would continue to be his daily maid. She knew she’d flicked her last ever duster around this house. She’d have to invent a good excuse to give Clio for why she wanted to quit such a pleasant job.
‘It sounds like it could be fun,’ she said, forcing a smile. What choice did she have but to agree?
‘As I said, you might even enjoy it,’ he said. ‘The dinner is at an excellent restaurant in Mayfair.’ The kind of place maids usually didn’t eat at was the implication. Or indeed accountants from Bundaberg.
She took a deep breath. ‘Okay, I’ll do it,’ she said. ‘But there’s just one more thing.’
He raised a dark eyebrow. ‘Yes?’
‘How will we get around the fact that we’re total strangers and know absolutely nothing about each other?’
‘HOW DO WE get over the hurdle that we are strangers? We start finding out about each other,’ Lukas said. ‘We have until tomorrow evening to make our story sound feasible.’
He was pleased Ashleigh had acquiesced so readily. So he’d had to use some leverage to get her on board, but that was what it took sometimes to get a deal across the line. He’d learned that at twenty-one when he’d had to sort out the mess his profligate parents had made of the company. It had been a tough lesson—he’d discovered people he’d thought he could trust could not be trusted, that he had to be guarded, tamp down on his reactions and feelings. The episode had marked the end of his youth.
‘You mean I get a crash course in Greek billionaire and you learn what makes an Aussie maid tick?’ she said.
‘Aren’t you masquerading as a maid? That’s just a vacation job, isn’t it? I suggest you stick to Aussie accountant,’ he said. ‘We’ll skirt around the maid thing as far as Tina Norris is concerned.’ No doubt Ms Norris would have done her research, discovered he was a steadfast bachelor, would scrutinise the woman he chose to accompany him. He shuddered again at the thought of the predatory gleam in the older woman’s eye when they’d met. Buried in his past was good reason for his revulsion.
‘Actually, I don’t much like being an accountant,’ Ashleigh said. ‘I was steered into it by my parents, who thought accountancy would bring a secure job. I’ve got my options wide open when it comes to changing career.’
‘You’ll need to brief me on all that,’ he said.
The briefing would not be onerous—there was something about this girl that intrigued him. Ashleigh Murphy seemed somehow different to the women he usually met. Perhaps because she was Australian. More likely because she didn’t move in the same social circles. He liked that she didn’t seem intimidated by him or fall over backwards to impress him.
She shrugged. ‘Not much to tell, really. I managed a flooring company back home.’
‘You were a manager? That’s impressive.’ She didn’t appear to be long out of university.
Her slight smile in response hinted at dimples and he found himself wanting to make her smile properly. Not that he was adept at telling jokes or funny stories. In fact he’d been accused of being over-serious. Since he’d been forced to swap his carefree life as a wealthy kid who’d known he would never have to work for a living, there had been little room for laughter. Or for love.
Where did that come from? Perhaps prompted by the knowledge that, at the age of thirty-four, he had to pretend he had a serious woman in his life. A wife, children—there wasn’t room in his life for marriage. He didn’t want all that. And, he told himself, he didn’t miss it. The Christophedes companies took up all his life. The business was his life.
‘The title sounds more impressive than it is,’ she said. ‘It’s a small company and I wore a few different hats. But it had a good product and I worked with really nice people. Truth is, you can’t be too picky when it comes to getting a good job in a country town. There aren’t many opportunities.’
Lukas couldn’t imagine why a woman as smart and lovely as Ashleigh Murphy would want to bury herself in some far-flung country town. He would find out why tonight.
He glanced at his watch. ‘Have you eaten?’
‘No. I was...er...going to have something after my bath.’
‘So you’ve been using my kitchen too?’
She nodded. ‘I won’t lie,’ she said. ‘Though it sounds like I might be doing a lot of lying tomorrow night.’
‘Not lying.’ He refused to contemplate that he was planning anything that smacked of dishonesty. ‘Think of it as role playing.’
Her auburn eyebrows rose. ‘Not a bad idea. I’ve done some acting—amateur, of course—so I’ll think of this as preparing for a role.’ She pulled a face. ‘You might have to help me with the script.’
‘Starting from now,’ he said. They had until tomorrow, but a good part of his day would be, as usual, taken up with work. ‘You haven’t eaten and I haven’t eaten. Come out to dinner with me and we’ll start the get-to-know-you process.’
‘Uh, okay,’ she said, obviously disconcerted. ‘But...but I need to find somewhere to stay tonight. I have to phone around my friends.’ She looked at her feet, obviously uncomfortable at the reminder of her transgression. As well she might be.
‘You can stay here tonight,’ he said.
She looked up. ‘As part of the deal?’
‘Yes,’ he said. Whatever she might think of him, he would not let a young woman risk being alone in London without a safe place to sleep. ‘Though you can steer clear of my bathroom.’
‘And what about tomorrow night?’ she said, audacity trickling back into her demeanour.
‘Tomorrow night too.’
For the first time since he had encountered her in his bathtub Ashleigh smiled. Delightful dimples bracketed her cheeks and light danced in her eyes. He found himself dazzled by the warmth and vivacity