Mediterranean Tycoons. JACQUELINE BAIRD

Mediterranean Tycoons - JACQUELINE  BAIRD


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tie, every magnificent inch of him screaming dynamic, wealthy and powerful male. Selina, wearing her white linen pants and a shirt, was glaring defiantly up at him.

      ‘I beg to differ. Nice as they are, the only three dresses you appear to possess—the yellow, blue and black—are not suitable for the dinner party tonight. Justin and his wife will expect the best. You need something glamorous—and not black. Spend what you like, and get shoes, jewellery—whatever it takes. Now, get in the car, or I will be late for my meeting. The chauffeur will drop me off, then ferry you around the shops and return you to the yacht.’

      ‘Right—fine.’ She leapt into the backseat of the car, insulted.

      She was still smarting from last night, and the telephone call she’d received from Beth at dawn this morning had not helped. Beth had wanted to know who the man was. Trevor had told her he sounded quite commanding and jealous, and Beth had asked for the whole story of her holiday romance and if he was a keeper …

      Lying to her friend, she’d told her it was another passenger—a widower who was holidaying on his own, with whom she had struck up a friendship, just a friendship, and was enjoying his company. Whether Beth had believed her or not she wasn’t sure, but she’d changed the subject to work and ended the call.

      Rion slid in beside her, his arm along the back of the seat, his thigh brushing Selina’s, making her body instantly aware of him. And that infuriated her even more. She would spend his money and enjoy doing it, she decided. She could donate the lot to charity, she thought, when they got to Greece in two more days.

      All of a sudden the thought was not so satisfying …

      Rion wanted glamorous—and, taking a last look at her reflection in the mirror, Selina grinned. The hairdresser had done wonders, and glamour was what he was getting—in spades. She left the cabin.

      The silk crepe dress in midnight-blue had cost a fortune, as had the shoes that she had teamed with it—so much that her conscience had got the better of her and she had refrained from buying the jewellery Rion had casually suggested.

      Rion heard Dimitri gasp and turned his head. He did a double take as Selina walked towards him.

      ‘Is this glamorous enough for you?’ she asked.

      Rion was speechless. This was a Selina he had never seen before. Her gorgeous hair was swept up in a crown of curls on top of her head, a few strands of curls left to fall artfully either side of her beautiful face. Her huge amber eyes were cleverly accentuated by the use of eye-shadow and mascara, her lush lips painted a deep scarlet. Her make-up was subtle but perfect.

      As for the dress she wore—no wonder Dimitri had gasped. It left little to the imagination. Jewel-encrusted straps over her shoulders widened into two triangular pieces of material that just about covered her breasts and tucked into a tight band beneath. The skirt hugged her hips and thighs to end a couple of inches above her knees. She was wearing sheer silk stockings and on her feet were jewelled shoes with killer heels.

      ‘You look exquisite—if a little daring,’ Rion drawled, eyeing her breasts, and looped an arm around her waist. He spun her around. The straps over her shoulders curved under her arms and left her back bare almost to the base of her spine, where a concealed zip held the fabric taut across her rear.

      She shot him a glance over her shoulder. ‘Great, isn’t it?’ A feline glitter was in her amber eyes.

      ‘You can’t wear that!’ He grasped her arm and spun her back to face him. She looked spectacular in the dress and she knew it—but it was for his eyes only … ‘One spectacular cleavage is enough. You are almost showing two. Change to the black.’

      Captain Ted walked in. ‘The car has arrived on the dock. Your guests are getting—’ He stopped, his eyes widening on Selina.

      ‘Right—we are coming,’ Rion said, and moved his hand from her arm to splay it across her back. He bent his head towards her as he led her outside. ‘Too late now to change, but be warned: I really missed you last night, and two can play your game,’ he murmured huskily, and let his fingers trail down her spine. He felt her quiver.

      That Rion had admitted he had missed her shocked Selina into silence.

      And she was having second thoughts about the dress as they stood at the top of the gangway to welcome their guests. Held close to Rion’s side, with his hand caressing her back, was a kind of torture and her breath hitched in her throat. She shot him a sidelong glance. ‘Stop it,’ she hissed.

      ‘Sexual attraction works both ways—painful, isn’t it?’ He grinned and straightened up. ‘Our guests have arrived.’ And thankfully for Selina his hand slid from her back and he took a step forward.

      Her body still heated from his seductive touch. She glanced at the couple who had joined them on deck and then looked again, her amber eyes widening in horror. She froze, the blood turning to ice in her veins.

      Selina concentrated on the woman. She was in her mid-forties, and very elegantly dressed. But all the time her mind was spinning, hoping she was wrong about the man …

      She heard the man introduce his wife to Rion. Then Rion slipped his arm around her waist again, his fingers pressing her side, but she did not so much as flinch.

      ‘Selina, this is Justin Bratchet and his wife, Alice.’

      Numb with shock, Selina shook hands with Alice first and tried to smile, spouting the social niceties, until finally she had no choice but to look at the man—Justin Bratchet.

      She felt her flesh crawl as she shook hands with him, and forced a smile to her lips. ‘Nice to meet you,’ she lied, and pulled her hand free with indecent haste.

      The dinner was informative, but also a living nightmare as far as Selina was concerned—from which she escaped as fast as she could.

      Rion saw the couple ashore at the end of the evening and walked back on board. The evening had been a success, his meeting earlier had gone well, and the deal—after a bit of adjustment—looked like being a cinch. Though Selina’s behaviour had been a bit odd. He had sensed her tense the minute she’d met the couple, and he’d seen the look in her eyes as he introduced her to Justin. He had a gut feeling she knew the man. And she had excused herself from seeing the couple off the yacht with the plea that she needed the bathroom, which was odd.

      Maybe Selina had bumped into Bratchet on her travels? This morning Rion had searched Selina’s name on the internet—something he had never done before. She’d taken some finding, but he’d been surprised at what he’d discovered. She was listed as a translator for a top international agency noted for its discretion and hired by governments and the like. There was a shot of her looking stunning but businesslike, standing at the side of an Arab sheikh at an international trade fair in China. Other delegates included a few heads of state. Selina was obviously at the top of her career ladder and had to be making a very comfortable living. Maybe he was wrong about her and she wasn’t a typical gold-digging female …

      Reaching his cabin, he opened the door and saw at a glance she wasn’t there. Kicking off his shoes, he removed his jacket and tie and dropped them on the bed, flicking open the buttons of his shirt. He walked next door, contemplating removing that incredible gown with a smile on his face which broadened when he saw the view of Selina’s slender back. She had removed her shoes and was minus her stockings—lace-trimmed, he noted. Pity. He had wanted to peel them off.

      His sensual smile vanished when he realised she was talking on her phone and that was the reason for her hasty retreat.

      The click of the door opening alerted Selina, and abruptly she ended the conversation and rang off. She turned around. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said inanely.

      Rion gazed straight back at her from below thick, curling lashes, his expression bland. ‘Obviously. Who did you want it to be? The man on the phone?’ he queried, and in two lithe strides he was towering over her.

      ‘It wasn’t a man—it was Aunt Peggy,’ Selina said, but could not look him in the


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