awe as she admired the sculpture in the sitting room had charmed him.
He’d lit from within at the feel of her, supple, streamlined and, he discovered, curved in the right places.
What would happen if he followed her down onto that bed? He couldn’t remember the dark frenzy of desire ever being so immediate or urgent.
The very fact he’d thought about it was a concern. Did he really want an affair with Carter’s daughter?
Logic demanded an unequivocal no. Instinct screamed yes.
Which was an excellent reason to pull back. Apart from the fact he didn’t take advantage of vulnerable women.
Alexei rubbed a hand across his jaw as he entered his suite and crossed to the window to stand staring across the infinity pool to the sea beyond.
Guilt trickled down his spine. Bad enough that there’d been a kernel of truth in Carissa’s accusation about how he’d got her here. It had solidified into a jagged shard of ice when he’d heard the hint of a wobble in her voice as she stared up at him from her bed. She’d been flushed and furious and he’d revelled in his power to rile her, till he’d heard the tiny crack in her façade of superiority. Suddenly it hadn’t seemed amusing.
It hit him that he’d behaved like a kid pulling a girl’s pigtails, desperate to get her attention any way he could.
Him, desperate?
Hardly. Certainly not for the likes of Carissa Carter.
Except she wasn’t as he’d expected.
He scraped his hand across his chin, feeling the stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave. He shouldn’t allow himself to be diverted by her. She was incidental to his plans.
But, pending Carter’s arrival, there wasn’t much he could do to bring those plans to fruition. Steps had been taken to contain the damage, and while Alexei checked in daily, working via computer and phone, his team was working hard.
Which gave him leisure to ponder his would-be bride.
Alexei’s brow scrunched. Funny. He’d assumed Carissa would be eager to marry. Her father had come up with the idea, no doubt desperate to cement personal ties that would save him when his embezzlement came to light. The fact a woman in her mid-twenties was willing to go along with such a plan pointed to her being venal, marrying for money and position.
Too many women had tried to tie him down. Not for love, but as their ticket to wealth and privilege. Alexei didn’t fool himself into believing they were attracted by his character or sense of humour. Some were drawn by his looks but money was the deciding factor.
Yet Carissa hadn’t given an unequivocal yes.
Why? Did she believe if he had to work for what he wanted, he’d appreciate her more? Because men enjoyed the chase?
He huffed a breath. Maybe she had something there. If she’d walked in the door and promptly agreed with everything his interest wouldn’t have been piqued.
Except by that delectable body, which he’d discovered was curvier than he’d first thought.
Except for her intelligence and sensitivity.
Alexei shoved his fists in his pockets and rocked back on his feet, annoyed. He’d been so caught up in the need to draw Carter out of hiding, he hadn’t bothered researching the man’s daughter.
He’d acted rashly, driven by fury that the one person he’d trusted since his mother died had betrayed him.
That was a slashing wound that wouldn’t heal till Carter was made to pay. It overset Alexei’s equilibrium, evoking unwanted feelings that interfered with his decision-making.
It wasn’t so much the money, but the personal affront of betrayal. The cold slap of horror that he’d let himself be gulled into believing the man, liking him.
Carter had made a fool of him, conning him into giving his trust. Not just because of the man’s work qualities.
But because Carter reminded him of his father.
Like Alexei’s father, Carter appeared taciturn to outsiders, but his features broke into smiles when he mentioned his family. Uncannily, Carter also had a mannerism, a tilt of the head, that echoed Alexei’s precious memories of the father who’d died when Alexei was six.
Then there was his utter devotion to his spouse. There’d been no mistaking the man’s devastation when his wife was diagnosed with a terminal illness. His stoic determination to do all he could for her had touched a chord with Alexei. Plus there was that unexpected weakness for silly puns and his scrupulous honesty, both hallmarks of his dad.
Alexei shook his head. Scrupulous honesty!
For years Alexei’s motto had been trust no one. He and his mother had suffered because they’d been taken in by a conman. After his stepfather there’d been others, loan sharks, employers, landlords, vultures who’d preyed on his vulnerable mother, turning her life into a misery till finally loss and disappointment crushed her.
Alexei scraped a hand across his jaw, dragging himself back to the present. To the woman in one of the guest suites.
He’d acted instinctively, securing her to give him an edge. He should have ordered a dossier on her so he knew something about her before acting.
All he remembered from Carter’s conversations was that she lived in Paris, where she’d attended an exclusive art school. She loved fashion and shopping and wasn’t cut out for a commercial career. Alexei had gained the impression of a pampered airhead pretending to be an artist. A blonde airhead, he remembered from the photo Carter had waved before him and which he hadn’t bothered to take in.
So Carissa Carter had dyed her hair. That was one extra fact about her.
Alexei considered ordering a full report on her. But why bother?
She was here. Whatever Alexei wanted to know, he’d find out for himself. He’d enjoy the process.
MINA STARED AT the bathroom’s enormous, full-length mirror and suppressed a groan. She looked like a stranger.
Carissa had said pink calmed her and made her feel centred. It was proof of how stressed she’d been that she’d packed only for her favourite colour. Almost everything in the case was pink. Candy pink, flesh pink, cerise, rose madder and more.
Mina’s mouth curled in an unwilling laugh as she surveyed herself. She wore a candy-pink skirt with matching strappy sandals and a pale pink top with a silver logo that incorporated a highly stylised Eiffel Tower and an open book. Carissa had designed it for an indie book festival in Paris, one of her first commissions.
Had Carissa really planned to wear these clothes to visit Alexei Katsaros? If so she’d clearly had the Caribbean’s casual, sunny reputation in mind, rather than any desire to dress up.
Or was her friend savvier than Mina gave her credit for? Maybe this wardrobe was her secret weapon, to prove she wasn’t cut out to be a billionaire’s wife.
That stifled Mina’s humour.
Carissa needed her help and Mina wasn’t quite as sure now about her ability to deal with her host.
Especially in a skirt that rode high on her thighs and a top that was more fitted than anything she usually wore. Mina wasn’t ashamed of her body, but she covered more of it than her friend did. Plus Carissa was shorter and smaller in the bust, so the top was a snug fit. As for the miniskirt...
Mina shrugged. She had more to worry about than how much bare leg she displayed. Her only clothes were what she’d worn on the plane and the ones Carissa had packed. Besides, she was on a tropical island. Alexei Katsaros