The Greek Boss's Demand (3 page)

‘Let it go—'

‘Was it another man?' He threw a glance to her left hand. ‘You're not married, but was there someone back then?'

‘Look, it's not important—'

‘So it
was
another man. Why else would you just stop communicating? I tried to call you. I wrote to you.'

‘We moved—'

‘
I
didn't. You knew where to find me.' Accusation was layered thickly in his eyes. ‘So why else would you never return my calls? Why never answer
my letters unless you were too busy in someone else's bed?'

Enough!
Incensed, Alex pushed herself up from her chair. She'd had enough of looking up to him. And she was sick of putting up with his slurs.

‘Drop it, Nick.'

‘I demand to know what happened!'

Alex glared at him, at that moment totally wondering how she'd ever held the notion that she'd loved this guy. ‘I grew up.'
The hard way.
‘End of story.'

‘It's no wonder you've never married, if that's the way you treat men. If you want my advice—'

Alex's hands curled into tight fists.

‘As a matter of fact,' she cut in, ‘I don't want your advice. I don't need your advice. And, given that you don't appear to be married either, are you completely sure you're in any position to give advice?'

In that moment Nick's face might have been cast from concrete. It seemed all harsh angles and rigid planes, and she could tell he was battling to keep the fury he was obviously feeling under control.

Well, bully for him. She was furious too. How dared the brute think he could waltz back into her life and start criticising?

A muscle in his cheek twitched. ‘You've changed, Alexandra. You are still as beautiful as you were then, maybe even more so, but you've changed on the inside.'

I've had to!
Her mind told her to remain strong and
resolute. It shouldn't matter what he said about her looks. And it wouldn't.
She wouldn't let it.

She sucked in one unsteady breath, battled to get her speech back to something resembling normality. ‘Please leave. I have work to do.'

When he remained there motionless it was obvious that he had no intention of complying with her request. If she wanted him out of her office she was going to have to make him leave herself.

She stepped around the desk. ‘I'll see you to the door.'

There was at least four feet between them and she'd mentally assessed the risk. There was no chance of them coming close to each other. In a moment she'd be safely behind the open door, ushering him out, and some sort of peace could again reign in her office.

Halfway there his hand seized her arm, halting her in her tracks. His grip burned, his hand looking so large on her forearm that her heart tripped. She'd known that touch before, known the strength of it, and yet the tenderness that could accompany it. Only there was none of that tenderness now. Now she sensed anger, and her heart raced fast and loud as adrenalin kicked in once again.

‘Alexandra,' he said, half demanding, yet half imploring. She closed her eyes briefly and willed herself not to be affected by the mere sound of her name.

‘Let me go.' Her voice sounded amazingly calm and level and she took strength from that.

But he didn't let go. His grip changed. Instead of
just holding her, it was tugging her, forcing her closer to him. They were close enough now that she could catch the tang of his subtle cologne, the faint remnants of his coffee, all infused with the scent of man—angry man.

‘Alexandra?'

Her elbow was still locked, her arm held firm, as she looked up into his eyes. Breath caught in her throat as anger was replaced by something else. Something darker and far more dangerous.

In that instant he relaxed his hold, and with the pressure off she immediately lost balance, swaying on her heels, only to be pulled unceremoniously back into him in the next moment.

Impacting against his chest was like colliding with solid rock—only warm and smooth and, oh, so familiar. She sucked in a deep breath, her senses reeling from so much male so close. Something in the back of her mind registered that Nick hadn't changed that much. Somehow this was just the way she remembered he'd felt back then. Maybe just a little broader and more developed, but just the way she'd imagined, late at night when she couldn't sleep, thinking how he'd feel now.

Only this was all wrong!

‘Let me go!' she urged, trying to push him away. But his arms snaked around her, holding her tight.

She pulled her head back to look up at him. ‘What the hell do you think you're doing? This is harassment. You can't try these caveman tactics here.'

‘Harassment?' His tone mocked and his eyes held a teasing glint.

An unkind, teasing glint she registered. Life had apparently left Nick bitter.

Then she realised he was moving, swaying ever so gently, the fingers of his hands stroking her back while his arms still kept their vice-like grip. The motion was disarming, gently soothing and strangely sensual.

‘Hardly harassment,' he went on. ‘Don't you remember how it was between us? We're simply sharing an embrace, and perhaps a kiss for old times' sake.'

Alarm bells went off in her head.
No way.
No way would she kiss him. He couldn't be serious.

Firmly she pressed her hands against Nick's chest and pushed for all she was worth. ‘I have no intention of sharing
anything
with you.'

He must have seen something in her face because he looked down at her strangely, stopped swaying and abruptly let her go. Alex wheeled away before he had a chance to change his mind, her breath coming thick and fast. She grabbed hold of the door handle and screwed it round, yanking open the door for him.

He stood for a moment, taking a couple of deep breaths. He strode to the door, came so close to her she was afraid he might just kiss her anyway. ‘There was once a time you would beg me to kiss you, again and again.'

She pushed back her shoulders, tried as best as she
could to look him in the eye—even though he had a head start of six inches on her.

‘Times have changed.'

He reached out a hand and she flinched, but his fingers moved to the side of her face to tuck behind her ear a strand that had come loose from her twisted up hair. She swallowed, otherwise motionless, as they traced a path down her cheek before he gently but firmly pinched her chin between his thumb and fore-finger.

‘Not for the better, it seems.'

He flicked off his fingers and she fumbled for something to say.

‘I…I'll get some financial statements ready for you. I guess you'll want to get things organised quickly, to allow you to get back to Greece as soon as you can.'

She could swear he almost smiled then. A smile that didn't touch anywhere near his eyes.

‘Who said anything about going home to Greece? I may just decide to stay the full six months Aristos's will requires.'

Then he was finally gone. Alex shut the door and let herself collapse against it. It was barely eleven in the morning and she felt as if she'd just run a marathon.

How in the world would she survive six months?

A
LEX
stood on the sidelines, clutching her thirty-eight-millimetre camera and waiting while the coach said a few final words to the team, grateful that Sofia had chosen this particular afternoon to show Nick around some of their properties, allowing her to slip off half an hour early unnoticed.

After an emotionally draining day Alex was more anxious than ever to be with her son. This was
their
night—hers and Jason's—with no study or classes to intrude. Just for now she'd rather not have to explain that to Nick.

She took a couple of deep breaths and rolled her shoulders, easing away some of the strain of the day, before putting the cap back on the camera lens. She'd taken enough shots today to fill another page in the album she was keeping—the albums and video recordings she was using to record every event and growth phase in Jason's life.

The albums and videos she was one day intending to show his father.

Only his father was here.
Now.

How the hell was she supposed to deal with that? Somehow she had to work out a way of coping with Nick's presence in the office. It was only day one,
but from the tension evident between them today it was difficult to believe they could ever work together comfortably as colleagues. It certainly wasn't going to happen with this huge secret hanging over them.

If he was ever going to see these pictures and videos, eventually—inevitably—she'd have to tell him the truth. Only things were so complicated. Now she couldn't just tell him about their son. Now she'd also have to explain why she had never told him at the start. Never told him she was pregnant with his child. Never told him he was a father.

And there was no easy way to do it.

Yet the longer Nick stayed, the more inevitable it would become that he would find out she had a son. Once he knew she had a son…how long would it take before he worked out the rest and know she had kept the truth from him?

Her heart kicked up a beat. Just maybe there was a chance Nick wouldn't see the resemblance. Close relatives didn't always notice such things, did they? After all, people were always telling her that in spite of Jason's dark hair and eyes he was still unmistakably hers, even though she couldn't see it herself. Maybe Nick would be the same?

She looked closer at the huddle of players. Jason had his head cocked to one side, listening intently to the coach's words, concentrating hard, his eyes dark and intense, and as she looked at him a chill whipped up her spine.

Her son stood there focused and determined—
every part a miniature version of Nick. Alex took a deep breath and tried to steady her heartbeat back into a normal rhythm.

She'd been kidding herself. There was no way Nick could deny the resemblance. She sighed. That left only one course of action. It wasn't going to be easy, but she'd have to do it—and the sooner the better.

The team huddle broke up and Jason turned and waved, smiling as he ran towards her until he collided at force into her chest, swinging her with his momentum. She breathed in the happy, warm smell of him, mingled with grass and earth, and caught his laughter as he clutched on tightly around her neck and they spun each other round.

‘Pizza!' he squealed.

She laughed and stood up, catching his hand in hers as she turned to the car. ‘I hope you spent some time out there thinking about soccer, and not just what you wanted for dinner.'

‘Yeah,' he said, tugging her along. ‘A bit.'

Four pieces of pizza later, Jason started to slow down between bites. After a brief hesitation he reached for his cola and took a long drink. ‘Can you fish, Mum?'

Alex blinked and put her piece down. It was noisy in the pizza bar and she wasn't sure she'd heard correctly. ‘You mean with a rod and reel?'

Jason nodded and studied the remaining pieces before reaching for the one with the most olives, despite it being the furthest away.

‘I've been known to catch the odd fish, sure.'

Jason focused on his next mouthful before continuing. ‘I thought so. I told them you could do anything, but they still said I couldn't come.'

‘You told who? And couldn't come where?' she asked, secretly pleased that Jason still had such faith in her.

‘Matt and Jack. They're going fishing one weekend with their dads. They said I could have come but you were a girl and you wouldn't know how to fish.'

‘That's a shame,' she said, feeling more than slightly put out. ‘Did you want to go?'

‘Sort of. The camping out sounded the best bit, though.'

‘Ah,' she said, getting some idea of the real reason why they might be uncomfortable with a woman along. ‘I know why they didn't want us to go.'

‘Why?'

She smiled. ‘Well, how would they feel when we caught all the fish?'

‘I knew it.' Jason leaned back in his chair and surveyed with only half interest the few remnants left in the pizza box. ‘I told them it wouldn't make any difference even if I had a dad, because we'd still catch the most too.' Then he burped loudly, clapped his hand over his mouth and collapsed into a fit of giggles.

Alex laughed too, but inside felt his words as a boot to her heart. Hot tears stung her eyes.

It's the shock,
she tried to tell herself as she
brushed away the evidence with the back of her hand, pretending they were laughter induced. Naturally she would be feeling more sensitive than usual after Aristos's sudden death and the arrival of Nick on the scene. Why else would she be crying into her pizza at dinnertime?

But, despite what she wanted to believe, part of her knew there was more to her tears than that. Once again she was reminded that no matter how she tried to be both mother and father to Jason, to provide him with the balance his young life required, there would be times when she just couldn't be both.

 

Jet lag, Nick decided. It had to be jet lag.

Why else would his legs be so unresponsive and his body so stressed and lethargic? Three kilometres into his run along the foreshore, it was obvious he wasn't going to make his usual ten. The rhythm wasn't there, his breathing was forced, and the power just wasn't happening.

And he needed to run. Needed to clear the fog that was clouding his brain, the fog that sprang from changing time zones and hemispheres—and from a girl he should have forgotten long ago.

Who was he trying to kid? She was hardly a girl any more. One touch had confirmed that. His breath caught in his throat, he coughed and shot his rhythm to hell again. In rebellion, he cursed, kicking out one foot at the sand, spraying the heavy salt-encrusted
grains far and wide, scattering seagulls up into the ever lightening sky.

Breath rasped and scratched his throat. He needed sleep. Long, uninterrupted sleep. Instead last night he'd been plagued with visions of a leggy teenager, sitting cross-legged and smiling up at him from the midst of a field of yellow wild flowers, her long blonde hair almost liquid in the gentle spring breeze.

She'd been nervous. But she'd come to meet him willingly, knowing that this was the day—their last together—and her shyness had faded under his touch and they'd taken each other to a place they'd always share.

Or so he'd thought.

Maybe he'd got it wrong back then. From the way Alexandra acted now, it was clear she wasn't interested in sharing the time of day with him. He smiled to himself.

The way she'd reacted when he'd suggested staying in Australia! She obviously couldn't wait for him to get out of her life. He didn't even know why he'd said that; he had no intention of staying here. Although it was more than obvious that Sofia was keen he should hang around a while.

Maybe he should.

So far Dimitri was insisting that all was well with the business in Athens, and it was clear that Sofia needed his support here. Maybe that wouldn't be as onerous as he'd first expected. Somewhere along the line Sofia had transformed herself from a pestering
child into a dark-haired beauty. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt him to stick around a while—at least until she'd had time to come to terms with her loss.

A thin smile found its way to his lips as another reason to stay crystallised. For there was something infinitely satisfying about making Alexandra think she was not going to be rid of him too easily.

But then, that was foolish thinking. He wasn't here to settle scores. He was here to make sure the business functioned well and prospered long into the future. He should be thinking instead whether there was even a place for her in the operation.

If he was going to leave the business in sound hands it was clear there'd have to be someone pretty damned capable in the financial area. Would a receptionist-cum-bookkeeper make the grade? He doubted it. It might be better to get someone better qualified in and just let her go. Although the employment agencies had had no success so far.

Maybe it would be better getting Dimitri to come out from Greece. He would know what the job required, so they could employ the right person.

Gulls wheeled overhead and a lonely swimmer hauled himself from the water nearby, shaking jewelled droplets from his body as he surged out of the shallows.

A swim. Maybe that was what Nick needed to clear his head of this infernal jet lag. Lord knows, the run didn't seem to be helping. He turned back the way he had come and headed along the beach.

 

‘He's cute, don't you think?'

Alex looked up from her computer screen, in the middle of typing her letter. ‘Who's cute?' she asked innocently, keeping her face deliberately schooled as she minimised her computer screen. But Sofia was too busy closing the door to notice anything. She grabbed one of the visitor's chairs by the arm and pulled it up close to the desk, hunkering down conspiratorially, her elbows on the desk, cupping her chin. She was grinning from ear to ear.

‘Nick, silly. Who else around here could I mean?'

Alex smiled indulgently. While ‘cute' wasn't exactly the word that sprang to mind whenever she thought about Nick, it was obvious who Sofia was referring to. Apart from the two of them, the office only employed a part-time woman for the phones, for whenever Sofia had had enough of playing receptionist, and an ageing property manager who looked after maintenance issues.

Still, she feigned surprise. ‘Oh, him. Sure, he's not bad.'

It was easy to play along. Sofia was the happiest she'd seen her since her father had died. If having Nick here did that for her, then at least something good would come from his visit. With no one else to turn to, Sofia deserved it.

‘I think he likes me.'

Alex's breath snagged in her throat.
Oh, please, I don't want to hear this!

She somehow forced a bare smile to her face. ‘Of course he likes you. You're his cousin. You're a nice girl. Why wouldn't he like you?'

She shook her head. ‘No, you don't get what I mean. I mean he
likes
me. You know—like, seriously likes me.'

‘That's…nice.' Alex wondered what else she was expected to say. She looked at the girl sitting opposite, her dark eyes shining with hope in her impeccably made-up face, her insanely long acrylic fingernails painted the exact shade of her crimson lips.

Sofia had never had the greatest history with boyfriends, and little wonder, given her domineering father and his ability to drive away potential suitors with a single bellow. If only his interest had been motivated by his daughter's welfare. Instead, Alex suspected, he'd always had the future of the Xenophon Group foremost in his mind. Whoever married his daughter and sole heir would end up with the fruits of Aristos's labour. How could any mere male qualify for such bountiful reward?

And then along came Nick, apparently with Daddy's blessing, and for the first time in her life Sofia thought she was onto a winner.

Sofia and Nick. Why did that seem such an unlikely pairing? And why should she even care? It wasn't as if she had any claim on the man, after all.

‘I was wondering,' Sofia said, ‘if you could help me—while he's out for a little while, talking to some of the tenants?' She tilted her head to one side, mak
ing her large gold double-hoop earrings jangle. ‘Seeing you know Nick much better than me, what with being old friends and all.'

Alex shook her head. ‘You've got the wrong idea. That was a long time ago.'

‘But I haven't seen him since I was six, and he hardly took any notice of me. Even though way back then I thought he was gorgeous. I just thought you might have some idea of what he likes, you know. You must have talked about something when you were in Crete together. What did you guys get up to anyway?'

The breath left Alex's lungs so fast it made her cough. What on earth would Sofia think if she told her the truth?
I gave him my virginity and he took me to heaven.
No, definitely more information than Sofia needed to know. And much more information than Alex needed to be reminded of. Besides, they had done other things on Crete—it was just hard to focus on them now. Now that Nick was here. She licked her lips, buying time.

‘You know—the usual things one does over there. We visited ruins and museums. Remember, Nick was studying an archaeology unit back then. No doubt he's still interested in the subject. Why don't you ask him about it?'

Sofia screwed up her nose. ‘I guess. But that's not really what I had in mind.' She fidgeted with her bangles, then checked her nails. ‘I don't know—does he have a favourite colour or something?'

Alex smiled to herself, instantly transported back to Crete.

Nick was holding her face in his hands, his lips close to hers, and the breeze was floating tendrils of her unbound hair around them both.

‘The colour of the ocean, deep and clear. The colour of the sky, bright and endless. The colour of your eyes…'