JACQUELINE BAIRD

Mediterranean Tycoons


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had actually belonged to some duchess who was beheaded in the French revolution.

      Sometimes the present was small, a single rose, and sometimes ridiculous, like when he left for New York and he presented her with a tiny ugly troll, and demanded, ‘Promise me this is the only male you will look at while I am away.’ Giggling, she’d promised and they’d made wonderful love. He telephoned her first thing in the morning British time, from his bed as it was about two in the morning in New York, and he liked to talk to her before going to sleep. She found it endearing, and it fed the hope that was growing in her heart that her love for him had a chance.

      He was coming back next Tuesday and her spirit lifted at the thought, and she walked into Harrods with a smile on her face. A negligée to knock Marcus’s eyes out, she decided. Stopping by the perfume counter, she picked up a tester, and was about to spray some ruinously expensive scent on her wrist when a familiar voice called her name.

      ‘Eloise. How are you?’

      She dropped the bottle back on the counter and turned around.

      ‘Ted. Ted Charlton, I have a bone to pick with you,’ she said bluntly, but she could not help smiling at his sheepish expression.

      ‘Guilty,’ he held up his hand. ‘I know what you’re going to say, but let me take you out for an early dinner, and I’ll explain.’

      It was a warm summer evening and a long, lonely weekend stretched before her. She had nothing planned for tonight other than returning home and watching television. Why not? she thought.

      ‘Yes, okay.’ She waited while he bought a bottle of perfume.

      ‘I have a hot date Saturday night,’ he explained with a chuckle. ‘Let’s find somewhere to get a drink and then we’ll eat, and I’ll confess all my sins.’

      Ted found them a great French restaurant and ordered a couple of Martinis, a bottle of good wine and the food.

      ‘I saw the pictures of you and Marcus in the press, and I can guess why you want to talk to me.’ Ted’s comment came over the aperitif.

      Eloise took a moment to find her voice. ‘Marcus appears to be under the impression you and I…’ She cleared her throat, suddenly embarrassed.

      ‘I know what you’re trying to say.’ Ted helped her out. ‘And I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lied. But try and understand from my point of view, Eloise.’

      ‘I’m listening,’ she said quietly.

      ‘Marcus Kouvaris is a lot younger than me—very handsome, very successful, very clever.’ Ted lifted his glass and drained it, looking rather wry.

      One delicate brow arched quizzically. ‘So?’ she prompted.

      ‘Well, it doesn’t show me in a very favourable light.’

      ‘Ted, forget the light—just tell me what happened,’ Eloise said bluntly.

      ‘It was really my ex-wife’s fault. Her lawyer did me for millions, and I had a very sweet deal, almost completed. No disrespect to KHE, but it was worth a lot more than your small business, I was short of cash, and I needed the money quick. I knew Marcus Kouvaris was in town, and I remembered the way he’d looked at you.’

      ‘The way he looked at me? What on earth has that to do with your business dealings?’ she asked, totally confused.

      ‘I’m a man; I know how the male psyche works. So I approached Kouvaris to take my share of KHE off my hands. I knew he could easily afford it, and it would earn him Brownie points with you. I wasn’t wrong; he agreed immediately.’

      ‘You mean, you think Marcus bought in to KHE to please me?’ The enormity of what Ted was suggesting boggled her mind, until she remembered the blackmail. But, even so, Ted’s suggestion made her think… Marcus had not gone deliberately seeking shares in KHE, so that must mean something.

      ‘Of course, Eloise, you are a stunningly beautiful woman and a talented artist as well. There isn’t a man alive who wouldn’t fancy you, believe me.’

      ‘Flattery, Ted, won’t get you off the hook. I want to know why you lied to Marcus about you and me.’

      ‘You can put it down to an old man’s pride or sour grapes. I invited Marcus to have dinner at my hotel to celebrate the deal, and then at my insistence we retired to the bar. What can I say?’ He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘I had too much to drink and this exquisite blonde I had been trying to impress for the past few days made it very obvious she wasn’t interested in me—but that she fancied Marcus instead. He made it obvious he wasn’t interested, and when she finally gave up and left, after giving me the cold shoulder, I was feeling pretty miserable. So when Marcus asked exactly how well I knew you—’ He hesitated, his face turning a dull shade of red.

      At least he had the grace to blush, Eloise thought, holding Ted’s blue eyes with her own. ‘Go on.’

      ‘I lied and said we’d spent the night together. It was male ego, and plain old-fashioned jealousy. First my ex-wife rejected me, and then the girl in the hotel who’d been quite happy to drink with me the night before only had eyes for Kouvaris. There’s only so much rejection one man can take. I admit I was drunk and I didn’t see why Marcus should get away worry-free, and if my stupid lie has hurt you in any way I’m sorry.’

      Eloise shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter, Ted.’ The fact Marcus had turned down the other woman made her feel generous. ‘I forgive you.’

      ‘You love the guy.’

      ‘Something like that,’ she said with a smile. Marcus was not quite the devil she tried to paint him, she knew, and a tiny seed of hope rooted in her brain. Maybe her love for Marcus was not completely futile…

      The food arrived and was excellent. It was nice to sit and chat with the ease of old friends; Ted was one of the few men she was comfortable with. Later, when Ted got her a cab to go home and insisted on accompanying her, she made no objection. She even asked him in for coffee…

      Marcus swung out of the taxi, and leapt up the few steps to the entrance door of the Georgian building. He lifted a finger to press the bell for Eloise’s apartment and realised the door was open. Careless, but it suited his purpose. He wanted to surprise Eloise, and the tingling sense of anticipation at the thought of seeing her again lent speed to his long legs, as he ran up the two flights of stairs without catching his breath.

      He’d spoken to her on the telephone late last night and told her he wouldn’t be back until next week. But after putting the phone down, having heard the husky sound of her voice ringing in his ears, he’d wanted her so badly he’d cancelled some meetings and crammed the rest into a couple of hours in the morning, and taken the next flight out of New York.

      Marcus moved towards the door at the end of the hallway. He could hear the sound of voices. Good: she was home, and obviously watching the television. His hand grasped the door handle; it yielded to the pressure and he strode across the tiny inner hall, and into the sitting room.

      ‘Eloise, darling.’ She spun around in surprise at the entrance to the hall that led to the bedroom, and the breath caught in his throat.

      Marcus’s gaze flew over her. Her red hair framed a startled but incredibly beautiful face and fell in a tumbling mass of curls over her creamy shoulders. Her body was encased in a wisp of blue silk, tiny straps supporting the slip-styled dress that ended a few inches above her knees. There was no mistaking the firm thrust of her breasts or the tightening of her nipples as she stared at him, and what held him transfixed was not the shock that widened her brilliant emerald eyes, but the sheer wonder of her smile that followed.

      ‘Marcus, you’re back!’ Eloise cried in delight. ‘I wasn’t expecting you until next week.’ She blinked; it really was Marcus, looking staggeringly handsome in a perfectly tailored silver-grey business suit. But it was the glittering warmth in his dark eyes, especially for her, that made her breath catch.

      He started