The Greek Boss's Bride. Chantelle Shaw
God, she looked a mess, she thought dismally. Her hair had escaped its once neat bun and was tangled around her face; there were streaks of mud on her cheeks and a huge bluish lump on her forehead.
‘Prepare for fireworks,’ she warned the muddy ball of fur on the seat next to her.
At the sound of her voice the dog cocked one ear and stared at her with soulful eyes. She still wasn’t sure if she had actually hit it, or if it had been injured, but to be on the safe side she lifted it into her arms and carried it up the front steps.
‘Kezia…my dear.’ Mrs Jessop opened the front door and gasped at the sight of Kezia’s bedraggled form but Kezia’s gaze was drawn to the tall figure whose presence dominated the room.
‘Theos! What happened to you?’ Nik demanded, his face thunderous as he strode towards her.
His expression of utter disbelief would have been comical if Kezia had felt like laughing. Instead, all she could think of was that she had ruined her new shoes and was leaving a trail of mud across the floor. She was so wet that her skirt was plastered to her thighs, and as a final insult there was a huge ladder in her tights.
‘I had a slight accident,’ she told him briskly, hoping to mask the fact that she felt like bursting into tears. It was delayed shock, she told herself, and had nothing to do with Nik looking as though he would like to strangle her. She hadn’t seen him for weeks, and the impact of his exceptional height and broad shoulders encased in a charcoal-grey overcoat made her close her eyes for a second.
He possessed an aura of raw, sexual magnetism—a primal force that was barely concealed beneath the veneer of civilisation his clothes awarded him. Remove the designer suit and the man would still be impressive—probably more so, she acceded faintly as she sought to impose control on her wayward imagination. She had only felt half alive these past few weeks, but now the blood was zinging through her veins. One look from him could reduce her to jelly, and her face burned as she felt his eyes trawl over her mud-spattered clothes. From the gleam of fury in his gaze it was safe to assume that he was not as impressed by the sight of her.
‘What kind of accident? What the hell is going on, Kezia? And what is that?’ he growled as his gaze settled on the animal nestled in her arms.
‘It’s a dog. It ran into the road and I had to swerve to avoid hitting it. I’m not sure I was entirely successful,’ Kezia added worriedly. ‘It could be hurt.’ She trailed to a halt beneath Nik’s impatient glare.
‘Never mind the damn dog. Look at the state of you. I expected you to be here, not traipsing around the countryside collecting waifs and strays.’ He loomed over her, his brows drawn into a slashing frown that warned of his annoyance, and Kezia felt her temper flare. She had spent all day trying to organise his wretched dinner party, and she hadn’t driven ten miles across the Hertfordshire countryside in the pouring rain for fun. ‘Mrs Jessop mentioned a problem with the caterers?’ he growled.
‘There was, but it’s sorted,’ she said quickly, remembering that she still had to retrieve the boxes of cakes from her car.
‘It had better be. I want this presentation to go without a hitch, and I’m relying on you,’ Nik warned darkly, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the lump on her head. ‘Theos, you’re hurt. Why didn’t you tell me?’ he demanded, pushing her hair back from her forehead to study the large bruise.
Kezia was suddenly acutely aware of an angry glare from Tania Harvey, who had just walked into the room, and she jerked away from him.
‘You didn’t give me a chance. Leave it, Nik, I’m fine,’ she muttered as he probed the lump with surprisingly gentle fingers.
He was too close for comfort. His coat was unbuttoned and she was aware of the muscles of his abdomen visible beneath his silk shirt. He smelled good—fresh and masculine—and the evocative tang of the aftershave he favoured swamped her senses. Her pulse rate soared and she was aware of the need to put some distance between them before she made a fool of herself. Even more of a fool, she amended wryly as she glanced down at her mud-encrusted shoes. That ditch had been full of stagnant water, and she felt her cheeks burn when Nik wrinkled his nose.
‘I’ll get cleaned up and call a vet,’ she assured him.
‘For your head?’ He was plainly puzzled.
‘For the dog. It may have a broken bone, and it must be shocked, it’s barely moved.’
‘Blow the damn dog,’ Nik exploded in a furious whisper, conscious of the need to keep his voice down so as not to alarm his guests. ‘I’m going to ring the doctor. You may be suffering from concussion. Something has certainly addled your brain,’ he added sarcastically.
‘I’m perfectly all right,’ Kezia snapped back, refusing to admit that she had a pounding headache. ‘I’ve arranged for Mrs Jessop’s niece Becky and a couple of her friends from the village to help with the party. Becky can show your visitors to their rooms, and we’ll meet for cocktails at seven, as planned. Everything’s under control, Nik,’ she assured him, but he was plainly unconvinced.
‘I’m glad you think so. But I’m curious to know what you’re going to wear tonight—because you cannot sit through dinner looking and smelling like you do right now.’ He let his eyes travel over her disparagingly, unperturbed by her scarlet cheeks. ‘You’d better have a bath—you stink—’He broke off as his mistress approached. ‘Perhaps Tania can lend you something.’
‘I’m not sure Kezia could squeeze into any of my clothes; we’re very different shapes,’ Tania purred, her words drawing attention to her sleek, honed figure compared to Kezia’s unfashionable curves.
Kezia gave a bright smile, determined to hide her humiliation and marched towards the stairs leading to the basement kitchen and staff quarters. ‘I’ll find something,’ she promised. ‘Trust me, Nik, everything’s going to be fine.’
Twenty minutes later the bundle of mud and fur that Kezia had rescued from the ditch emerged from the kitchen sink, transformed into a small, black dog of dubious parentage.
‘It looks like a terrier cross,’ Mrs Jessop remarked. ‘But crossed with what I couldn’t say.’
‘He doesn’t seem to be hurt, just hungry,’ Kezia said, and she sneaked a piece of chicken and fed it to the dog. ‘He’s very friendly. I’ll put a notice up in the village tomorrow. Hopefully someone will come and claim him.’
‘I wouldn’t bank on it,’ the housekeeper told her. ‘I reckon he’s been abandoned. From the look of him, he’s not eaten for days—which doesn’t mean you can feed him best chicken breast. That’s for dinner, Kezia. I don’t think Mr Niarchou would be too happy to hear you’ve fed the main course to a flea ridden stray.’
‘He hasn’t got fleas. And now I’ve bathed him I think he looks rather cute.’
Kezia stroked the dog, and her heart melted when it licked her hand. As a child she had longed for something of her own to love, but the boarding school she had attended from the age of eight hadn’t allowed pets. The school holidays had been spent with her parents in Malaysia, where her father had worked. She had pleaded with her mother to be allowed to keep a pet, but her parents enjoyed a busy social life and had had little enough time for their daughter, let alone an animal.
‘I can’t just turn him out in the rain,’ she murmured anxiously. ‘Would you mind keeping an eye on him, Mrs Jessop?’
‘While I prepare a four-course dinner for fourteen, you mean?’ the housekeeper teased good-naturedly.
‘I’m sorry about the caterers.’ Kezia groaned. ‘I can’t believe they let me down at the last minute. This presentation is important to Nik, and you know how demanding he is. Everything’s got to be perfect. If you can manage the cooking, I’ll act as hostess for the evening while Becky and the girls serve dinner.’
‘You’ll be joining them at the table, though, won’t you?’ the housekeeper