A Christmas Consequence for the Greek

Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

‘I know you have an aversion to mixing business with pleasure,’ Zander Stanhope murmured into Mia Halliday’s ear as she handed him a coupe glass filled with raspberry and champagne posset and resisted the ever-present urge to climb him like a tree, ‘because you’ve mentioned it countless times over the last four months. But as of two a.m. tonight, when this club closes and the party’s over, you no longer work for me. Just a thought.’

With a smouldering smile, his eyes glinting wickedly, Zander straightened and turned to stride off, all towering height, broad shoulders and athletic grace. Mia just stood there and stared at his retreating figure, struck dumb by his observation and frozen to the spot between a ball-juggling clown and an impossibly bendy fire- eater.

Her mind raced as she watched him sink onto a purple velvet banquette between two of his siblings and begin to make quick work of the dessert. Her heart pounded and her blood heated as his words and their implication sank in.

Just a thought?

The man was a menace, she reflected, pulling herself together to navigate the obstacle course of scantily clad dancers atop podiums, magicians, acrobats, feathers and bubbles that led from louche sensuality to the welcome clinical soullessness of the kitchen. A tall, dark, gorgeous menace.

They’d met back in June, shortly after he’d contacted her to request her catering services at the party he was throwing to celebrate his thirty-fifth birthday.

Initially, she’d thought the call some kind of bizarre prank because why would a half-Greek, half-British shipping and banking tycoon who regularly graced the pages of both the financial and tabloid press be calling her? Halliday Catering was growing and gaining a reputation for being fresh and innovative, certainly, but it did not yet cater to members of the elite world in which he operated.

Once she’d got over her shock and disbelief, she’d been ridiculously flattered when he’d told her that he’d read an article about her in a magazine and had instantly determined that no one else would do. She’d fizzled with excitement at the realisation that his influence might lead to a stampede of his well-heeled friends and acquaintances to her door, thereby securing the future of her business.

Because she tended to liaise with clients remotely in the early stages of planning an event, she never imagined that two days later he’d turn up at her premises on an industrial estate in east London to discuss the menu in person. At no point had she considered that, having done so, he’d bowl her over so thoroughly with his devastating looks and powerful presence that, from that point on, all she’d be able to think about when it came to him was sex.

Inconveniently, however, that was precisely what had happened.

Without so much as a text to inform her of his intentions, he’d strolled into her unit that afternoon and every one of her senses had switched to high alert. She’d instinctively looked up and then shot to her feet, as if her computer had given her an electric shock. She’d placed her hand in his and gazed dazedly into eyes the colour of cocoa while he’d introduced himself in deep faintly accented tones that oozed through her like warm golden syrup, and she’d been immediately gripped by an attraction that had turned out to be fierce and unrelenting.

In the weeks that followed, whenever an email dropped into her inbox, her heart skipped a beat. At the sight of his name flashing up on her phone her mouth dried and her head swam. In preparation for each of their three working lunches, she’d taken extra care with her clothes and make-up, even as she’d berated herself for her vanity.

It hadn’t helped that he’d made no secret of his attraction to her, which she really couldn’t fathom when he’d dated virtually every supermodel and socialite on the planet. However, he spoke to her as if she were the only woman in existence and ran his gaze over her body as if mentally undressing her. The intensity of his attention left her dazed and breathless and increasingly on the brink of doing the job for him.

But despite the charm he wielded like a weapon and the slow sexy smile he deployed to dazzling effect, with superhuman effort, Mia had held out. She’d refused his invitation to dinner, even saying no to a drink, and become immune to the teasing gleam in his eye. She’d ignored the knowing air that suggested he enjoyed testing her will power by subtly laying siege to her defences and had convinced herself that the flare of emotion she’d caught in his expression when she’d turned him down must have been disbelief because in a player like him it couldn’t possibly have been hurt.

She would not jeopardise this opportunity to get her name out there by caving in to base desires and fanciful sentimentality and potentially messing up such an important job. She needed to stay focused and on track if she wanted her company to become number one in its field. To achieve the financial and environmental security she’d lacked as a child – a child who’d regularly missed school to care for her increasingly sick mother, a child who’d kept secrets and lived in fear of being ripped away by social services from everything she’d ever known – she had to remain strong.

And she had.

Until he’d murmured those words in her ear just now and sent her into a spin.

Because he hads a point.

She’d been so busy pouring her efforts into making the food at this party new and exciting, perfect and memorable, it hadn’t occurred to her that, once the event was over, the business she had with him would be concluded, and she’d be free to act on the desire that had clawed away at her for so long. Put there by a man who tormented her day and night, a man she wanted beyond reason and could, in theory, soon have. It was the only thought in her head.

So what was she going to do about it? she wondered, heart thumping as she removed a crate of chocolate truffles from the fridge and handed it to Hattie, her friend, her second-in-command and her only directly employed member of staff, who was charged with the task of arranging them on platters. Was that even a question that needed debate?

No.

She’d never experienced attraction like it and couldn’t remember the last time she’d let her hair down. Her last disaster of a relationship, which in hindsight had been more hard work than anything else, had ended two years ago and since then she’d been so focused on the business and achieving the goals she’d had for ever, she hadn’t been on so much as a date.

Besides, it wasn’t as if she was after a relationship with him, which would have given her pause for thought. She knew what he was. She read the papers and had witnessed in person the skill with which he fielded the myriad personal phone calls he received.

His cavalier attitude towards women—wholly incompatible with her longing for a solid relationship that would provide the security and love she craved as a result of her emotionally tumultuous upbringing—was well-documented. But while he possessed an infamous reputation as a ruthless heartbreaker, he would never break her heart. She wouldn’t give him the chance. She had no desire to change him. She wasn’t stupid. Once upon a time she’d had an unfortunate tendency to expect more from the men she dated than they were willing to give, but not any longer.

And yes, she’d sensed a barely leashed energy in him and had occasionally caught a bleakness in his gaze when it wasn’t gleaming wickedly, which suggested that beneath the super cool playboy exterior troubled waters flowed, but of what relevance was that? She wouldn’t be swimming in them for long. Even if they had shared more than just chemistry, Christmas was coming and she’d soon be busier than ever.

She’d worried that Zander had the ability to derail her ambitions. She’d feared messing this job up if she weakened and wasted the opportunity to strengthen her reputation and expand her company. But from a catering point of view, the event had been a triumph. Her food had been devoured. She’d handed out so many business cards she’d have to order more.

So what was stopping her from celebrating her success with one night of the hot sex she and Zander had both wanted for months?

Absolutely nothing.

*

From his sprawled position on the plush padded banquette, Zander toyed with a glass of vintage champagne and tracked Mia through narrowed eyes as she expertly weaved a path through guests and performers, distributing after- dinner confectionery.

If he’d known how tough a nut she was going to be to crack, he’d have turned the page on the article that had caught his attention when he’d been idly flicking through the magazine he’d encountered on the jet that had been flying him from San Francisco to Tokyo. He would never have lingered on the accompanying image and carelessly indulged the spike of interest he’d experienced at the arresting combination of red-gold hair and light blue eyes. He’d have gone with the club’s own catering team instead of paying them a hefty sum to step aside for hers and saved himself a whole lot of trouble.

Four months of burning, unassuaged need, he’d suffered. Four months of rejection both overt and implied, of fitful sleep and frustration unlike anything he’d ever known. Had Mia been a business partner or rival, a sister, an acquaintance or pretty much anyone else, he would have admired her unshakeable resolve. Because she was someone he’d badly wanted to take to bed for weeks, he could not.

‘Why are you scowling at the caterer?’

In response to Thalia’s question, dryly delivered in Greek, Zander instantly cleared his expression. He pasted on a languid smile instead and swung his attention to his younger sister. ‘The risotto was on the gritty side, didn’t you think?’ he drawled, annoyed that he’d let his irritation show. ‘And how original a flavour, really, is pea and mint?’

Thalia rolled her eyes and batted him on the arm. ‘All the food was excellent, as you well know. I heard amazing things about the salmon, and the chicken katsu curry was the best I’ve ever tasted. Little bowls of heaven,’ she said on a contented sigh. ‘Those circus-themed canapées were exquisite and don’t get me started on the dessert. This is an awesome party, even if I did nearly get taken out by a trapeze. Everyone’s having a great time. Apart from you.’ She stopped and frowned, then leaned in to study him a fraction more intently. ‘Why the face of thunder, Zan? Selene’s not here to cause a scene, and it can’t seriously be the caterer, so what’s really up? Is it the business? Are you ill? What?’

Ostensibly, it was the caterer. He wasn’t ill and Stanhope Kallis, the family banking and shipping empire of which he’d been CEO since his elder brother Leo had resigned from the post six years ago, was going from strength to strength under his leadership. He couldn’t care less that Selene—his scandalous, self-absorbed mother—hadn’t even responded to the invitation he’d sent her, let alone shown up tonight. When had she ever been interested in him or what he was doing, unless it directly related to the dividends she lived off? Sure, the ease with which his five siblings and their various other halves interacted, something he’d never been able to either understand or emulate, roiled his stomach but that was nothing new.

Mia’s attitude towards him was the superficial cause of his brooding tension but as for what was really up, he hadn’t a clue. Why did her obstinacy bother him so much that he felt the constant urge to challenge it? Why couldn’t he accept that she didn’t want to act on the obvious chemistry they shared, and move on? Why had he felt so driven to hire her in the first place and why hadn’t he taken a step back from the arrangements the minute he’d realised he was fighting a battle he likely wouldn’t win?

The unanswerable nature of these questions, which had recently started taking up so much space in his head, set him on edge. His legendary focus was shot. He was unusually plagued by doubt. The suspicion that she could somehow see through his armour into the pit where his many flaws lurked crawled beneath his skin. Worse, somewhere deep inside, he could feel the unacceptable stir of emotions that he’d kept under lock and key for almost three decades.

He hadn’t been so hurled off- balance by a woman since his one and only attempt at a relationship at the age of nineteen, which had been a never- to- be- repeated fiasco, and frankly, he’d had enough. Of all of it.

He was done with obsessing over Mia’s refusal to have dinner with him. She’d said no and that was fine. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much. Because it had never happened before? Because he might have misread the signs and could therefore be losing his touch? Whatever was going on, he was sick of the inexplicable, unsettling effect she had on him. She wasn’t that attractive. He could think of a hundred women more beautiful and intriguing than her. This unrequited…hankering…he had for her was ridiculous. It was a complete waste of his time and, now he thought about it, wholly unacceptable.

How could he have forgotten the lessons he’d learned from his parents as a kid—that wanting things he couldn’t have never went well and that indulging sentiment only led to pain and confusion? Since when had he been so weak? And so what if he had crashed and burned? It happened. Apparently.

Mia might not want him, but there were plenty of women who did. Some of them were here, in fact. He could find the physical release he craved with any one of them. They wouldn’t resist him. They’d be delighted with an invitation to dinner or drinks or something else entirely. Wasn’t that why they stayed in touch?

‘You know what?’ he said to Thalia, firmly shoving Mia out of his mind once and for all, the way he should have done weeks ago, before sweeping his gaze around the room to identify potential bed mates and firing smouldering smiles at them like a scattergun.

‘What?’

‘You’re right.’

‘I am?’

As half a dozen women peeled themselves away from the throng and began to sidle over, Zander drained his glass and signalled for more drinks. ‘Let’s get this party started.’