yet not in the way of a woman used to trading on male admiration. She carried herself with an intrinsic elegance that, when she looked down that straight nose at him, bordered on condescension. That intrigued. As did the intelligence shining in those sherry-coloured eyes and in the snarky undercurrent of her conversation.
He’d imagined Carter’s daughter more eminently dismissible. The man had said her nature was sweet rather than incisive and that she wasn’t cut out for business. Alexei had assumed she was pretty but vacuous.
How wrong he’d been.
Nor was she as he’d expected her to look. He saw no resemblance to Carter in her dark hair, luminous eyes or expressive mouth. Her skin was golden, not pale, and she met his gaze with a direct curiosity that, at any other time, he’d appreciate.
It evoked a hungry gnawing in the pit of his belly, a reminder that, despite his preoccupation with her father, Alexei was a vigorous man with healthy appetites.
He drew a slow breath, marshalling his thoughts, and was fascinated to see that, despite her sugared verbal barbs, Carissa Carter wasn’t immune to him after all. Her eyes tracked the rise of his chest, her pupils dilating as if mesmerised. Then she blinked and turned away, feigning indifference.
Satisfaction stirred. He’d disliked her jabs about the way he’d got her here, had even felt a stirring of remorse. Seeing that chink in her armour pleased him.
‘How remiss of me to keep a guest standing in the foyer.’ Alexei smiled and watched a tiny wrinkle appear above the bridge of her nose, as if she concentrated on not reacting. Fascinating.
‘Won’t you come in?’ He stood aside and gestured for her to precede him into the main sitting room.
‘Thank you.’ She inclined her head in the slightest nod.
Alexei caught a hint of perfume as she passed. Another surprise. He’d expected some expensive designer scent but this was one he’d never encountered. Instead of florals or cloying sweetness, she’d chosen a fragrance that hinted at the exotic Near East. Alexei inhaled cinnamon and spice and a warm, earthy richness that made him think, bizarrely, of veiled temptresses in gauzy silks. He canted towards her.
Fortunately she didn’t notice. She entered the sitting room with that leisurely, swaying stroll that spoke of casual confidence. As if she were accustomed to a billionaire’s luxury lifestyle. But then, given her father’s thievery...
He watched as she caught sight of the ancient sculpture against one wall. The torso of a young man, the musculature and veining of chest and arms superbly executed, the filmy fabric of his tunic the work of a master. She stiffened and drew a sharp breath. A second later she stood before the ruined masterpiece, her hand stretching momentarily towards it before dropping to her side.
‘It’s magnificent.’ There was genuine awe in her words. Alexei recognised it. He felt the same way about the piece.
His mouth twisted. Despite all expectation he found Carissa Carter...refreshing. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so tough pretending to be interested in her till her father arrived.
‘It was discovered at the bottom of the sea.’
As if his words broke the spell of artistic appreciation, she spun around, that oversized black T-shirt swirling wide. What did she look like beneath it? The rest of her was slim and beautifully formed.
‘You have a very nice home, Mr Katsaros.’ Her voice appealed too. It was low and musical. Not high and breathy as he recalled it from the phone call. Though he’d probably taken her by surprise with his invitation.
Alexei’s mouth tightened. She was right. It had been a demand, not an invitation. Carissa had made him sound brutish and that annoyed him. But the situation demanded a swift resolution. He didn’t have time for niceties.
Her eyebrows arched when he didn’t respond to her small talk.
‘Call me Alexei.’
‘Thank you, Alexei.’ Her voice slowed on his name and he felt the oddest sensation, as if she’d reached out one slim hand and trailed it down his chest, right to his belly. Abdominal muscles clenched in response. ‘Please, call me Carissa.’
‘Carissa.’ He tested the sibilant on his tongue and saw her eyes darken. The sight sent another ripple of awareness through him. She was definitely attracted. ‘You have an interesting accent. Not the same as your father’s.’
Intriguingly she stiffened as if he’d hit a weak point. It was the tiniest movement but unmistakeable to a man who’d spent so long studying the vulnerabilities of business opponents.
‘My father’s accent is English. But we moved around a lot when I was young. I suppose mine’s a hybrid.’
Alexei watched the unblinking way she held his gaze and wondered what she hid.
‘Yours is interesting too.’ She spoke quickly, clearly wanting to divert his attention.
Alexei was interested to find that despite his fixation on locating and punishing her father, his curiosity about Carissa increased by the moment.
He gestured for her to take a seat and sank down onto a leather lounge, crossing his ankles and leaning back.
‘Russian mother, Greek father, moved to London as a kid.’ He shrugged. ‘Like yours, my accent’s a hybrid.’ More like mongrel, he silently corrected. He’d spent too long living precariously in places where the predominant language was that of the violent gangs who ruled through intimidation.
Silently Carissa nodded and sat opposite him. In contrast to her casual clothes her posture was graceful. With that long, slender neck and perfect poise he was reminded again of a dancer sweeping into a low curtsey. He could picture a tiara on her smooth, dark hair and a sheaf of flowers in her arms.
‘Tell me, Carissa, have you heard from your father?’
‘He’s not here?’ Her expression flickered but too fast for him to read it.
‘No, but I’m expecting him soon.’ As soon as Ralph Carter heard his precious daughter was staying at Alexei’s private island he’d hotfoot it here, hoping the marriage he’d suggested would save him from Alexei’s wrath. If that didn’t work, Alexei had the perfect hostage to lure him from hiding.
‘I see.’ She chewed the corner of her mouth and then, as if aware of his scrutiny, offered a small smile. ‘That will be lovely.’ Once more her direct look suggested she hid something. What?
‘So you haven’t heard from him?’
‘No. He seems to have his phone switched off. Do you need to contact him urgently?’
Alexei fought impatience. His desire for retribution against the one person he’d actually trusted in decades hadn’t eased. Fury curdled his gut. He couldn’t believe he’d been foolish enough to let Carter con him.
‘Not at all. In the meantime we can get to know each other better.’ That prospect grew more enticing by the moment.
She shifted in her seat, her first overt sign of nervousness. Intrigued, Alexei took his time surveying her, his fingers tracing a lazy circle on the soft leather of his chair’s arm.
‘I want you to be happy here, Carissa. Let me know if there’s anything you want.’
‘That’s very kind of you, Alexei. For that matter, very kind of you to let me holiday here in this glorious place.’
She’d changed her tune. Fifteen minutes ago she’d been complaining about his staff and the speed with which he’d brought her here. What had changed?
Every sense stirred. He scented not fear but caution, as if Carissa suddenly felt out of her depth. Not so sure of herself after all?
She wasn’t his target; her father was. Yet that didn’t stop a frisson of satisfaction at the suggestion Ms high and mighty Carter had second thoughts about her situation. If she was cast