Eligible Greeks: Tycoon's Revenge. Catherine George
call and need to return to my hotel.’
‘Oh, but…’ Tahlia stared at Thanos’s retreating form, startled by his abrupt departure. He was striding away across the gallery. She felt embarrassed at the thought of calling him back, but she might never have this opportunity again. ‘Can I look forward to hearing from you when you’ve had time to consider my idea about selling Reynolds Gems jewellery in your new hotel?’ she called desperately.
Thanos paused and glanced back at her, his expression unfathomable. ‘Oh, you’ll certainly be hearing from me, Tahlia,’ he promised softly. But for some reason his words sent a frisson of unease down her spine.
Tahlia woke early on Monday morning, with a heavy sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. Today her mother was due to see a specialist, to hear whether a mastectomy followed by a course of chemotherapy had destroyed her breast cancer. In the past few weeks Vivienne had regained some of her strength, and her hair had grown back enough that she no longer needed to wear the brightly coloured silk scarves mother and daughter had chosen together before the start of her treatment.
Her mother had been so brave, Tahlia thought, swallowing the lump in her throat. The past two years since Vivienne had been diagnosed had been a nightmare for both her parents, and she hoped with all her heart that today they would be given the news that she was completely cured.
The future of Reynolds Gems was another worry, she acknowledged grimly as she stepped into the shower. She was not hopeful that Thanos Savakis would agree to promote their jewellery at his new hotel, and if Vantage Investments decided against a buy-out, she did not know what would happen to the company her father had devoted his life to.
She would try and find out more about the situation today, she decided as she applied minimal make-up and swept her hair into a loose knot on top of her head.
The May sunshine streaming through the window was warm enough for her to choose a lightweight outfit. Her pale grey pencil skirt and matching jacket were years old, but the precarious state of her finances meant that new clothes were out of the question. She was grateful that her mother had taught her to choose classics rather than high fashion items, because the suit still looked good, and she teamed it with a lilac blouse, slipped her feet into kitten heels and checked her handbag for lipstick, keys and various other essentials, before hurrying out of her flat, praying that her ancient Mini would start this morning.
Tahlia was puzzled to see her father’s car in the car park when she arrived at the Reynolds Gems shop just off Bond Street, and she raced upstairs to the office. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you,’ she greeted him, her smile fading when she saw the tense expression on Peter Reynolds’s face. ‘What’s wrong?’ She paled. ‘You can’t have heard from the hospital this early?’
‘No.’ Her father sought to reassure her. ‘Your mother’s appointment is still scheduled for eleven-thirty. I’m here because I received a call from Vantage Investments at eight o’clock this morning, informing me that they’ve changed the date of our meeting from Wednesday to midday today.’
‘But today is impossible. Ask if we can reschedule for tomorrow.’
‘I tried,’ her father said wearily. ‘But they say we can meet today or not at all.’
‘You have to go to the hospital with Mum,’ Tahlia said urgently. ‘Nothing is more important than her appointment with Mr Rivers. What about asking the hospital if they can rearrange your meeting with him?’
‘I’ve tried that too, but he’s flying off to a conference later today.’ Peter sighed heavily. ‘I hate to put this on you, Tahlia, but I’ve told Steven Holt from Vantage that we’ll go ahead with the meeting, although only one of the directors will be present. This will just be a preliminary meeting, but it sounds as though they are seriously interested in making a deal. Obviously if it all goes to plan I’ll be involved in the negotiations, but today it’s all down to you. Do you think you can handle it?’
‘Of course I can,’ Tahlia assured him firmly, her heart contracting when she noted the deep lines furrowing his brow. Her father looked as though he had aged ten years since her mother’s illness had been diagnosed, and she was willing to do anything to alleviate his stress. ‘Leave the figures for me to read through, and I’ll do my best to convince Vantage to buy Reynolds Gems. You need to go home and keep Mum calm before her appointment.’ She bit her lip and added huskily, ‘Ring me as soon as you have any news, won’t you?’
‘I will,’ her father assured her gravely. ‘All the paperwork is on my desk,’ he added distractedly, and Tahlia knew that the only thing on his mind right now was her mother.
‘Go,’ she said gently, giving him a little push towards the door. And with a ghost of a smile he walked out of the office.
Two hours later, Tahlia put down the documents which outlined the company’s financial situation and picked up her cup, grimacing when she took a sip of cold coffee. Only a miracle could save them, she acknowledged dully. It was clear that Reynolds Gems’ profit margins had been low for the past couple of years, but despite that her father had gone ahead with a costly refit of all three shops, and had had to borrow a huge amount from the bank to do so.
Now, because of the global recession that had affected so many businesses, the bank was demanding that the loan be repaid—and, as was obvious from the figures, Reynolds did not have enough money to clear its debts. Tahlia could see from various letters that her father had pleaded with other banks for help, but in the present financial climate no one was interested in rescuing a failing company.
If she failed to persuade Vantage to buy Reynolds Gems the company would go bankrupt—it was as simple as that, she acknowledged sickly. The responsibility was terrifying, and as she gathered up her briefcase and handbag she felt a churning sensation in her stomach that grew worse as she walked briskly out of the office.
Vantage Investment’s offices were in the heart of the city. Tahlia knew that parking would be a nightmare, so instead of driving she took the tube to Cannon Street, arrived much too early for her meeting and had twenty agonising minutes to kill before she finally pushed open the glass doors and walked through the plush reception area, her heels echoing loudly on the marble floor. The receptionist directed her to the lift, and on the journey up to the seventh floor she peered at her reflection in the stainless steel walls. She quickly applied another coat of lipgloss, dismayed to see that her hand was shaking.
‘Miss Reynolds? I’m Steven Holt,’ a sandy haired man greeted her when she emerged from the lift.
‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr Holt,’ Tahlia returned the greeting with a nervous smile, hiding her surprise that the CEO had met her, rather than his secretary or a junior manager.
He made no further conversation as she followed him along the corridor, and her confusion increased when he ushered her into a room and quietly closed the door after her. She stared blankly at the solid wood. Was she supposed to sit here and wait for him to return? Tension knotted her stomach as she turned into the room, and her heart almost leapt from her chest when she caught sight of the man sitting behind the desk, his broad shoulders and the proud tilt of his head silhouetted against the bright sunshine pouring through the window.
‘Mr Savakis?’ She halted abruptly and stared at him, her pulse-rate accelerating as her eyes swept over his thick black hair and hard-boned handsome face, then lowered to his impeccably tailored jacket, blinding white shirt and navy silk tie. He was even more gorgeous than the man who had tormented her dreams: a suave, sophisticated billionaire businessman—but what business did he have here at Vantage Investments, with her?
Thanos was watching her impassively, his dark eyes cold and—the word filtered into Tahlia’s mind—pitiless. He made no response to her uncertain smile, simply dipped his head to indicate that she should sit down.
His silence unnerved her, and her voice was unnaturally high-pitched when she burst out, ‘I don’t understand. I’m here for private discussions with Mr Holt.’
‘Steven Holt is the chief executive of Vantage Investments, and in ordinary