Greek Affairs: In the Boss's Arms: Ruthless Greek Boss, Secretary Mistress / Kept by Her Greek Boss / Greek Boss, Dream Proposal. Kathryn Ross
But the ultimate glory will belong to that man in there, and he’s welcome to it.’
They both looked to where Aristotle stood, surrounded by a fawning crowd. Lucy shivered slightly despite the treacherous heat curling down low in her abdomen. He reminded her of a lone wolf. Head and shoulders above everyone else, supremely confident, supremely sexy and yet … alone. She hadn’t really thought of him like that before, and didn’t like the tender feelings it aroused.
At that moment a very glamorous-looking middle-aged woman came out to the terrace. Parnassus introduced her as his wife, bade Lucy goodnight and went back inside. Lucy turned to face the view again, her mind full of questions. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a sudden cool breeze. What did Parnassus mean about Aristotle? Did he somehow see him heading for an empty life, driven by a need to succeed? Clearly he wasn’t far wrong. Aristotle had said himself that this merger was the most important thing, and yet—
She jumped when she felt a warm blanket of heat settle around her shoulders and heard a deep, ‘We should get going. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.’
His jacket was warm with his body heat and scent. It enveloped Lucy, making her sway a little as they went back in. She didn’t say a word. Every nerve was twanging at the thought of sharing a car with him again, and her head was bursting with all the enigmatic questions Parnassus had posed.
But she needn’t have worried. Aristotle couldn’t have made it clearer he had no intention of touching her. Lucy sat in her corner and watched as they were driven down the hill towards the city centre. Feeling somehow compelled, she turned to face Aristotle and asked, ‘Don’t you have a family home here?’
She sensed him tensing, but he just said, without looking at her, ‘Yes, it was my father’s home, but I prefer to stay in a hotel.’
And then, before Lucy could halt her runaway mouth, she heard herself asking, ‘Why don’t your family know about the merger?’
His head whipped around so fast that she nearly flinched back. The lines in his face were stark. ‘What makes you ask that?’ The thread of warning was explicit.
Lucy shrugged. ‘I just … wondered.’
‘None of them are aware,’ he said curtly. ‘And I’ve already told you they must not know. As far as they’re concerned I’m here for three weeks to check up on the Athens side of the business.’
Lucy’s jaw clenched. ‘I know all that, and of course I won’t be telling them anything. I’m well aware of the terms of my contract.’
She turned her head away, stunned to feel a welling of emotion and discover that she had sudden tears stinging the backs of her eyes. What on earth was that about?
When she felt her hand being taken by a much larger, warmer one, her heart tripped. She looked around warily. She couldn’t really see Aristotle’s face in the dark gloom.
He sounded weary all of a sudden. ‘Look, it’s complicated, OK? It’s family stuff between them and me and they just don’t need to know. It’s for security reasons …’
‘That’s all you had to say.’ Lucy took her hand from his and took off his jacket, handing it back to him. ‘I’m warm enough now, thanks.’
Boss/assistant. The lines of demarcation were unmistakable. Aristotle cursed himself again for having lost control earlier. In all honesty the depth of that desire still shook him up. He took the jacket and watched as she turned her head to look out of the window again. The curve of her cheekbone, the fall of her hair was an enticing temptation to turn her face back, seek out those warm lips, sink into her yielding soft body again.
He swore under his breath. He’d vowed he wouldn’t take her like some randy over-sexed teenager, but here he was mentally stripping her, moments away from trying to seduce her all over again. He sat rigid in his seat the whole way back to the hotel. Never had a woman caused him this much frustration.
When they got back to the hotel Lucy skittered away from him like a scared foal. He let her go, bidding her goodnight, then went into the bar and ordered himself a shot of whisky. It was going to be a long three weeks.
Towards the end of that first week, Lucy half heard a question from Aristotle as they sat in his office in the centre of Athens. In essence they were conducting separate lives: presenting a benign face to his Athens-based company, and conducting top secret meetings with Parnassus at the same time. The meetings with Parnassus’ side were complicated and technical, calling on all of Lucy’s skills and much of the small amount of legal training she’d done.
She’d met his stepmother Helen and half-brother Anatolios, at a general board meeting that morning. The stepmother was tall and thin and cold, effortlessly supercilious. His half-brother was nothing like Aristotle. He was blond, shorter and had a spoilt, weak-looking face. It hadn’t taken Lucy much to deduce that his brother had a serious jealousy complex as he’d frowned sulkily throughout the meeting, clearly hating having Aristotle back to remind everyone who the real boss was. After meeting them, she didn’t entirely blame Aristotle for wanting to keep his distance.
‘… to put in an appearance at the charity ball tonight.’
Lucy realised she was being spoken to and looked up. ‘I’m sorry …?’
Her voice drifted away as she was caught by the gleam in Aristotle’s eyes. They were sitting close together, side by side at a table, with papers strewn everywhere. For the whole week, ever since the night they’d arrived and that earth-shattering moment in the car, she’d been rigid with tension, happily throwing herself into work to try and escape from dealing with … this.
But it hummed around them now, this awareness. She’d been so careful not to let it catch her unawares, but she had failed in this instance. And in all honesty she knew that it was largely to do with Aristotle’s own restraint. He’d been cool and solicitous all week. Not a hint of what had happened in his behaviour. At first it had thrown her, she’d been absurdly suspicious, but now … She realised it had been there all along. She knew it and he knew it, and much to her utter shame a flutter of dark excitement erupted deep in her belly.
She tried to ignore it. ‘I’m sorry—what did you say?’
Aristotle looked at her and stifled a groan. Her eyes were huge pools of swirling grey, like a stormy ocean, with lashes so long and dark he could already imagine them fluttering against his cheek. How he’d managed not to touch her all week he couldn’t really fathom. It had taken super-human restraint, but he’d been determined to prove to himself that she didn’t exert that much control over him. Except it had been an exercise in failure, because she did. His mind had constantly been taken from business.
It didn’t help that because of the wardrobe he’d provided, which was perfectly respectable, she was unwittingly displaying more of her luscious body. He knew she was deliberately choosing the most unrevealing clothes, but conversely they were making him want to unwrap her like a delicious parcel.
At the board meeting earlier, when he’d seen his own half-brother’s eyes riveted to Lucy’s cleavage, he’d wanted to reach across the table and punch him in the face. Being driven to violence by a woman was a very novel experience, and he had to put it down to sexual frustration.
He cleared his throat and dragged his eyes back up, vowing silently to himself that he’d have her in his bed within twenty-four hours. He couldn’t take much more of this.
‘The charity ball tonight. Everyone will be there—including Parnassus. Needless to say it’ll be seen entirely as a coincidence that we’re there too. When we meet any of his people we’ll affect no knowledge of having met before.’
Lucy had seen the extent of the security detail that both Aristotle and Parnassus commanded, so there had been no chance of a leak. Again the size and importance of what they were working on stunned her.
She asked abruptly, ‘Why is it so important that nobody knows of this, exactly?’
Aristotle’s