At His Revenge: Sold to the Enemy / Bartering Her Innocence / Innocent of His Claim. Trish Morey
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wistful note in her tone that didn’t make sense. He’d assumed the Antaxos family bathed in champagne. They were certainly rich enough.
‘Believe it or not I try and restrict my champagne consumption until the end of my working day.’ Clenching his jaw, Stefan hit a button on his phone. ‘Maria? Bring us a jug of water, or lemonade, or—’ he racked his brains for a suitable soft drink ‘—or something soft and refreshing. With ice,’ he added as an afterthought. ‘Lots of ice. And some pastries.’
‘That’s thoughtful of you. I’m starving.’
Stefan leaned against his desk, maintaining a safe distance. ‘So—you say you have a business proposition. Tell me about it and I’ll tell you if I can help.’ Those words felt alien on his tongue. When did he ever help anyone but himself? He’d learned at an early age to take care of himself and he’d been doing it ever since.
‘I want to set up my own business just like you did. That night on the yacht, you inspired me. You talked about how you’d done it all yourself and about how great it felt to be independent and not rely on anyone. I want that.’ She dug her hand into her bag again and pulled out a file. ‘This is my business plan. I’ve worked hard on it. I think you’ll be impressed.’
Stefan, who was rarely impressed by other people’s business plans, gingerly took the pink file from her outstretched hand. ‘Is there an electronic version?’
‘I didn’t want to save it on the computer in case my father found it. It’s the figures that count, not the presentation.’
So her father knew nothing about it. Perhaps that explained the hint of nerves he detected beneath all that bounce and optimism.
No doubt this was her summer project, designed to fill the long boring hours that came with being an overprotected heiress, and he was the lucky recipient of her endeavours.
Shaking off the feeling that something wasn’t quite right about the whole situation, Stefan flipped open the file and scanned the first page. It was surprisingly professional. ‘Candles? That’s your business idea?’
‘Not just candles. Scented candles.’ Her voice vibrated with enthusiasm. ‘I went to school in a convent. I started making candles in craft lessons and I experimented with different scents. I have three different ones.’
Candles, Stefan thought. The most boring, pointless product on planet earth.
How the hell was he going to let her down gently? He had no experience of letting people down gently. He just dropped them from a great height and stepped over their broken remains.
Clearing his throat, he cultivated what he hoped was an interested expression. ‘Why don’t you tell me a bit more about what makes them special? Top line? I don’t need detail.’ Please, God, no detail. As far as he was concerned talking about candles would be one step down from talking about the weather.
‘I’ve called one Relax, one Energise and one—’ her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink ‘—Seduction.’
Something in the way she hesitated over the word made him glance up from the file. She was trembling with anticipation, and all it took was one glance to know that his first assumption had been correct.
She was a bored heiress, playing at business.
And now she’d prompted him he could clearly remember the night they’d met.
She’d been a teenager—miserable, confused and self-conscious. An ugly duckling dumped in the middle of a flock of elite swans with a doting father who barely took his eyes off her. None of the other men had dared talk to her, none of the women had wanted to, so she’d stood alone, her awkwardness almost painful to witness.
But she was no longer that teenager. She was all woman, and she knew it.
Stavros Antaxos must be having lots of sleepless nights. And now she was looking at him with those big eyes filled with unwavering trust.
Stefan knew she couldn’t have found a man less worthy of that trust.
He wondered just how much she knew about his relationship with her father.
The atmosphere in the room shifted.
When he was sure he had his reactions under control, he closed the file slowly and looked at her. ‘So your candles are called, Relax, Energise and Seduction?’
‘That’s right.’
‘And just how much,’ he asked slowly, ‘do you know about seduction?’
GREAT. Of all the questions to ask, he had to ask that one.
Not market share or growth forecasts—seduction.
Selene maintained the smile she’d been practising—her business smile—while her brain raced around in crazy circles getting nowhere.
What did she know about seduction? Nothing. Nor was it a skill she was ever likely to need unless her life changed radically. What she did know was that without his help she’d never get her mother away from the island. It was up to her to prove she had a viable business. ‘What do I know about seduction? Not a lot. But you know what they say—you don’t have to travel the world to teach geography.’
She didn’t add that she had her imagination and that was already working overtime.
She’d often wondered if her teenage brain had exaggerated his appeal or whether her own misery that night, together with his kindness, had somehow mingled together to create a god from a man. But he was as gorgeous as she remembered—power, strength and raw virility merged together in a muscle-packed masculine frame that made her feel dizzy with thoughts she couldn’t seem to control.
Physically he was imposing, but it wasn’t his impressive height or the width of those shoulders that shook her. It was something less easily defined. A hint of danger—the sense that underneath that beautifully cut suit and the external trappings of success lurked a man who wielded more power than even her father.
Flustered, Selene tried to remember the way he’d been on that night five years earlier, but it was almost impossible to equate that kind stranger with this cool, sophisticated businessman standing in front of her.
And the fact that he was flicking through her amateurish document so quickly left her squirming with embarrassment. He barely took any time as he glanced at each page, nothing in his face giving a hint as to his thoughts. Clearly he thought it was rubbish.
Her mother was right. He was never going to help her.
He was right at the top of his game, a busy man with huge demands on his time. According to her research, thousands of people approached his company every year for business advice and he helped less than a handful of people.
While she waited for him to comment she sipped the lemonade but after a couple of minutes of squirming in her seat restraint left her. ‘So tell me honestly—’ Is it a crappy idea? God, no, she couldn’t say that. ‘Er—do you see this as an investment opportunity?’ She felt like such a fraud. A total impostor, just waiting for him to laugh her out of his office. It must have been obvious to him that she’d never had a business meeting with anyone except her own reflection.
He closed the file, then turned to put it on his desk. His tailored shirt pulled across his wide shoulders, emphasising hard muscle, and her heart started to thud.
She dreamed about him all the time. Had thought about him almost every hour since that night.
‘Selene?’
His voice was gentle and she looked at him, startled and embarrassed to have let her concentration lapse.
‘Yes. I’m listening.’
The look in his eyes