Кэрол Мортимер

Irresistible Greeks: Red-Hot and Rich


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the intention of having it decorated more to his personal taste. Evangeline Grey was that interior designer.

      The apparently elusive Evangeline Grey.

      He gave a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. ‘Let’s wait and see what happens on Monday.’

      ‘Phew, am I glad you said that!’ His PA grinned good-naturedly. ‘I would really hate to disappoint Kirsty. She likes the woman so much that before you even asked for the name of an interior designer she was thinking of trying to arrange a dinner party so that she could get the two of you together,’ he explained at Markos’s questioning glance.

      ‘If she cancels the next appointment that may be the only way the two of us ever meet!’ Markos leant back in his high-backed leather chair. ‘For some reason the name Evangeline gave me the impression she was an older woman…?’

      Gerry shook his head. ‘Late twenties, I think.’

      ‘Really?’ His brows rose. ‘Isn’t that young to have built up the professional reputation she has?’

      The other man shrugged. ‘If you haven’t made it in New York by the time you’re thirty then you’re never going to!’

      Markos smiled slightly. ‘Is she attractive?’

      ‘I was always out at work when she came to our apartment, so I’ve never actually met her.’ Gerry frowned. ‘But I’m presuming so, if Kirsty wanted to introduce the two of you.’

      Markos gave an appreciative grin. ‘In that case let’s hope that she actually manages to get here on Monday evening!’

      Gerry nodded. ‘If only to save me from suffering the brunt of Kirsty’s disappointment! Although there will be plenty of beautiful women for you to meet at the Senator’s party tomorrow evening.’

      He gave a weary shake of his head. ‘I think I’ve probably already been introduced to every beautiful woman in New York over the last four days!’

      ‘You haven’t met Kirsty yet!’

      Markos grimaced. ‘Being surrounded by all this love and romance is bringing me out in a rash!’ First Drakon and Gemini, and now Gerry had made no secret of the fact that he was very happily married. ‘As I now unexpectedly have an hour free, why don’t we go through the last of these contracts?’

      The elusive Evangeline Grey was already dismissed from Markos’s thoughts as he instead concentrated his attention on the work he wanted to get finished before beginning his weekend.

      A weekend which now seemed to include spending his Saturday evening at Senator Ashcroft’s drinks party.

      For some reason Markos had felt slightly restless since moving to New York. Of course the two weeks before the wedding had been frenetic, followed by his lethargy after flying to New York only a day later. His arrival had been quickly followed by one meeting after another as Markos introduced himself to the company’s extensive business associates, and there had been a social function of some sort for him to attend every evening as New York society opened their homes and welcomed him to their city in place of his cousin Drakon.

      Maybe the change-over had happened so quickly that Markos still felt slightly wrong-footed by the unfamiliarity? This office. The apartment on the penthouse floor above this one. The new people Markos worked with every day, and the others he socialised with every evening.

      Whatever the reason for his restlessness, Markos knew that attending yet another party tomorrow evening was the last thing he wanted to do…

      Eva had never enjoyed cocktail parties, having been forced to attend far too many of them in the past. She enjoyed those given by US Senators even less. All of the city’s rich and beautiful were filling to capacity the huge reception room at one of New York’s most prestigious hotels. The chatter was loud, the laughter even more so, and the jewels adorning the elegantly clad ladies’ wrists, throats and ears glittered and sparkled in the light given off by the dozen or so crystal chandeliers hanging overhead. At the same time Eva’s senses were being assaulted by the smell of dozens of expensive perfumes filling the air-conditioned room.

      But, as her mother had been so fond of saying, ‘What can’t be cured must be endured.’ It had certainly been true with regard to her marriage to Eva’s father…

      It was taking all of Eva’s endurance to grit her teeth and get through this cocktail party hosted by none other than visiting Senator Robert Ashcroft. Not because she thought there was a risk of meeting any of her ex-husband’s family—she knew from mutual friends that Jack had taken over the family’s Paris office just over a year ago, and her ex-father-in-law, Jack Senior, didn’t support Senator Ashcroft’s political party. No, there was no possibility of her meeting any of Jack’s family this evening.

      Even so, Eva doubted she would have bothered accepting the Senator’s invitation if she hadn’t known how much it would appeal to the man who was her date for this evening. It was exactly the sort of social function Glen enjoyed. Which was fine. It just wasn’t the real reason she had wanted to see him again.

      In truth, Eva had no idea how Glen was going to react when she found the opportunity to explain that she had absolutely no intentions of going to bed with him—ever—or with any other man, for that matter. Instead she was thinking of asking him if he would be the sperm donor if she went ahead with the IVF she was considering. A subject so delicate, so personal, was something she felt she had to lead up to slowly, rather than blurting it out at their first—or even second!—meeting.

      Senator Ashcroft’s drinks party was turning out to be every bit the crush of people Markos had expected it might be. Most of them were already known to him after this past week of socialising, and a lot of the men wanted to renew their acquaintance with him. Their wives, daughters or girlfriends were making no secret of the fact that they found his dark and brooding looks attractive.

      Not that Markos had any complaints about that last part. He had enjoyed a healthy sex life during his years of living and working in London, and he sincerely hoped to continue doing so now that he had moved to New York.

      Nevertheless, even surrounded by beautiful women as he was, all seemingly vying for his attention, Markos still noticed the woman in the figure-hugging red gown, standing across the room…

      Probably because she stood out from the rest of the ‘beautiful people’ present in as much as she was making no effort to respond to the flattering conversation of the half a dozen men currently surrounding her, but instead seemed totally bored—both by them and by her surroundings.

      But it wasn’t just that air of uninterest which had captured Markos’s attention. Nor was it the fact that she was young—probably in her late twenties—and extremely beautiful. Ebony hair cascaded lushly over her shoulders and halfway down her spine, and her eyes were light in colour—possibly grey or blue?—and surrounded by thick dark lashes. Her skin was the colour of pale alabaster, her features delicately lovely, and the fullness of her lips was glossed the same tempting red as that utterly decadent gown. Her only jewellery was a pair of delicate gold filigree earrings which dangled almost to the bareness of her shoulders.

      All of that would certainly be enough reason for any man to give her a second glance, but still it wasn’t what had caught and held Markos’s attention, what had caused his body to harden in instant arousal the moment he looked at her.

      Every other woman in the room wore masses of expensive jewels at their ears throat, wrists and fingers and, whether tall or short, they were all fashionably slender—a look that wasn’t flattering to some of the younger women, and even less so to most of the older ones. The woman in the fitted red strapless gown wore only those earrings, and her figure was…

      There was a word for her type of figure. An old-fashioned word that described her exactly—one that had often been used to describe movie stars of the golden age… Voluptuous! That was it! The tall woman in the red fitted gown was voluptuous. Not fat—her body was too obviously toned for that. She simply had an hourglass figure: curvily, lushly, sexily voluptuous. The sort of body, in fact, that most men