he dismissed Carissa Carter as not his type, his gaze lingered on the length of shapely legs silhouetted in black. Long legs, the sort of legs he’d enjoy wrapped around his waist during sex.
His gaze flicked higher, skimming her slight figure. He supposed, in the right gear, she’d be a perfect clothes horse, but personally he preferred a woman whose curves were more abundant.
Then the tilt of her head altered and he found himself face-to-face with her.
She was too far away for him to make out her features properly. Just good bone structure and dark hair pulled ruthlessly back into a bun. He had the impression of a wide, mobile mouth, but he wasn’t paying attention. His thoughts were on the sudden throb pulsing through his belly.
It couldn’t be attraction. Not for the daughter of a criminal. A woman whose lifestyle had probably fed her father’s depredations. He had no proof Carissa Carter knew of her father’s crimes, but she’d benefited. Maybe she’d been in on the scheme, eager to fund her easy life in Paris. Alexei couldn’t trust her. He’d play the part of eager suitor, pretending he was in the market for a wife.
As if he needed a third party to find him a woman!
He stared back at her, expecting her to duck her head and pretend not to see him.
Instead she stood motionless, watching as if he were under the microscope. It was a curious feeling. Alexei was used to people inclining their heads in agreement or deference. Except women, who tended to stare.
Carissa’s bold regard was something altogether different. It sent heat skittering down his spine, drawing every sense to hyperalert.
Finally, after she’d looked her fill, she turned to Henri. Alexei caught a flash of white teeth as she smiled but it was the coltish grace of her movements that held his attention. There was a fluidity to her supple body that reminded him of a Russian ballet dancer with whom he’d once shared a fiery affair. Alexei recalled not only the dancer’s grace but her athleticism and body awareness that had taken sexual pleasure to a new level.
He watched Carissa Carter saunter towards his house. Shoulders back, head up, yet she didn’t march. Instead that loose-limbed stroll was a symphony of sensual femininity.
For his benefit?
Of course.
His guest might play at being the bohemian artist, but if she was her father’s daughter, she’d have her eye on the main game, getting Alexei’s money.
For the first time since he’d learned of Carter’s betrayal, Alexei smiled.
He didn’t want the woman here, except as bait to draw her father. The fact she’d accepted his summons told him she’d sell herself into marriage with a man she didn’t even know. Though she knew the size of his bank balance. That regularly featured in rich lists around the world.
It could be amusing watching her try to seduce him.
MINA KNEW ABOUT WEALTH. She’d been born royal. But her family riches and privilege were tied to duty, responsibility and service. The palace where she’d grown up had been the nerve centre for her country’s administration.
This was pure sybaritic indulgence.
As if it wasn’t enough to own a tropical island rimmed with beaches so white they looked like sugar frosting, Alexei Katsaros’s home was the last word in luxury. The pool wrapped around the house so every room looked out on water. There was a bar actually in the pool too, so he and his guests wouldn’t have to stir from the water to get a drink.
Four-poster daybeds were scattered around the pool, their gauzy hangings romantic and alluring. Her artist’s eye appreciated the cushions in turquoise, teal and jade that reflected the vibrant shades of the tropical garden and the sea beyond. Then there were the sculptures in pale stone, which she glimpsed through the greenery. She itched to detour and investigate.
Forcibly she yanked her attention back to the house. The huge entry door stood open. Beside her, Henri waited for her to precede him.
Strange, this momentary hesitation.
All the way from Paris she’d been buoyed by indignation on Carissa’s behalf. Now though, Mina knew an uncharacteristic moment of doubt. A wariness at odds with her practice of facing problems head-on.
Her impulsiveness, her father would have said.
Why? Mina wasn’t overawed by Katsaros’s wealth, or cowed by any threat he could make.
Yet for a moment, as her gaze locked on the big man watching her from inside, something unfamiliar quivered through her. Something starkly unsettling.
An inner voice urged her to flee while she had the chance.
Of course she lifted her chin and stared right back instead.
The bright bowl of azure sky above her seemed to drop lower, the air thickening as she drew a slow, steadying breath. Still, he held her gaze.
Her bloodstream fizzed, making her fingers and the soles of her feet tingle. For a second she wondered if she’d been hit by a bolt of lightning out of the clear sky, till reason told her that was impossible.
Deliberately she turned away, feigning interest in her surroundings. Yet the image imprinted on her retinas wasn’t the white mansion with its picture windows, but the powerfully built man whose eyes locked on her. Everything about him, from his wide-set stance to that deep, muscled chest revealed by his open shirt, screamed strength.
Well, Mina was strong too. No bossy tycoon would intimidate her.
Nodding to Henri, she headed for the door.
She was greeted by Henri’s wife, Marie, whose smiling eyes and lilting accent made Mina relax in spite of herself.
‘Alexei is eager to meet you but perhaps you’d like to freshen up first?’
Mina smiled and shook her head. The flight by private jet had been far from onerous. ‘Thank you, but no. I’m eager to meet my host.’
‘How...charming.’ The deep voice came from beyond Marie. Its cadence drew Mina’s skin tight, as if someone dragged a length of rich velvet across it. A shimmer of heat flared low in her body and she had to work to keep her expression bland.
Slowly, so slowly she seemed to feel each muscle and joint move, she turned her head towards the shadows.
Never had Mina been more grateful for her royal upbringing. She’d spent seventeen years learning to look composed and calm, even if she’d never quite mastered regal. At twelve she’d sat on podiums listening to interminable speeches. At fifteen she’d held her own at royal dinners. Her polite interest expression could fool everyone but her sister.
Which meant the man watching her through narrowed eyes had no idea she felt as if someone had sliced the tendons at the backs of her legs.
Mina’s knees shook for the merest instant before she stiffened them, but her cool smile remained steady. As for the sizzle in her blood, no one else knew about that.
She waited for him to frown and say she wasn’t Carissa Carter. Yet he simply stared down at her from his superior height. Could it really be that he didn’t know what Carissa looked like? That flaw in her plan had kept her awake on the flight from Europe. Yet, against the odds, it appeared he didn’t. So sure of himself. Arrogant enough to expect everyone to obey his every whim. So unquestioning.
Mina let her mouth curve slightly. ‘Mr Katsaros. How lovely to meet you at last.’
‘At last, Ms Carter? You’ve been waiting to meet me? Surely your trip was admirably quick?’ His hint of indolent surprise and the tilt of one slashing eyebrow gave him an air of smug superiority.
‘Oh, it was.’ Mina looked