Beauty and the Greek (4 page)

Her defiant gaze slid from his as she scoffed, ‘And back to planet earth.' If offered the opportunity to find out for real, she would have run for the hills.

‘Would it not be pleasant for you to have Andreas notice you are a woman?' His dark eyes skimmed her body, his glance disturbingly intimate as it lingered on the suggestion of curves.

Beth, her mind still spinning from the moments she had allowed herself to imagine him without his clothes, was thrown into total confusion at the thought that he might be doing the same about her.

‘I…' Beth swallowed to alleviate the dryness in her throat. In her chest, her heart was pounding like a piston.

‘I have a proposal. Are you willing to hear me out?'

Beth regarded him warily. ‘Would it matter if I said no?'

Her ironic response drew a laugh. ‘But you won't. We both have reasons for wanting this engagement to end.'

While he did not elaborate on his own reasons, it did not, Beth thought, take a genius to figure them out. Theo Kyriakis still carried a torch for his old love. Seeing her again had resurrected all those old feelings and he was determined that his brother would not have her.

Maybe equally determined that he would win her back.

Well, good luck to him. In Beth's mind, the pair were well suited; they deserved one another!

‘If we pool out resources,' he continued, ‘I think we might be able to pull it off.'

There was no
might
in his voice, just cast iron certainty, but that was Theo Kyriakis—a man who was pretty much a stranger to self-doubt. As for resources, Beth was using all hers just to stay upright.

‘You will need suitable clothes, hair and so forth but yes…' he narrowed his eyes, as though visualising the changes he spoke of ‘…I think it will work.'

‘Suitable for what?' It cost nothing to humour him and she was actually curious to know where he was going with this.

‘The celebration meal tonight, we will go together as a couple and test the waters.'

She waited for the punchline but none came. Her jaw dropped. ‘You're serious…my God, you're insane.'

Theo looked totally unperturbed by her response. ‘One man's insanity is another man's inspiration.'

This smooth retort drew a choked laugh from Beth—he really was unbelievable.

‘Inspired!' She shook her head. ‘You're not inspired; you're stark raving mad! No one is going to believe we're a couple.'

‘They will; just trust me on this, Elizabeth.' She looked at him, so smooth and persuasive, and thought sure, like
she'd trust a politician during election year. ‘When we were kids, Andreas always wanted the flavour of ice cream I got.'

‘I'm not an ice cream.' As if she could become part of some romantic triangle! Or was it quadrangle?
Absurd
did not do the suggestion justice.

‘But you are—or could be—an attractive woman.'

It was a clinical assessment and one that was made with no hint of sexual suggestion. Despite this, or maybe because of it, under her dismissive expression Beth experienced a swell of tentative excitement.

Could she really be beautiful?

She shook her head and adopted a scornful expression but, underneath, the tempting possibilities continued to slide through her mind. What would it be like to have Andreas look at her as though she were an attractive woman?

‘What have you got to lose?'

‘I'm assuming you're talking about something beyond sanity and self-respect?'

‘You want Andreas.' The blunt pronouncement made Beth shift uncomfortably. ‘Will you ever forgive yourself if you don't try?'

Theo watched the expressions flit across her face and gave a nod of satisfaction. He had sold enough deals to know when he had clinched it; she might not be happy about it and it might take a few more minutes of fairly pointless protest but Elizabeth Farley would play the game.

‘Y
OU
need to make Andreas think of you as a woman.'

She regarded him with a cranky glare. ‘So you said, but just what does he think I am now?'

‘He thinks you're Angela Simmons.' He watched her struggle not to ask the obvious.

She lasted a minute or so before she sighed, ‘All right, who is Angela Simmons?' It was not a name she was familiar with and Beth was pretty familiar with all the women Andreas had dated over the past three years.

‘We both got sent away to an English prep school; she was the kid who wrote all his history essays until the staff caught on.'

His father had been more appalled to learn that the establishment three generations of Kyriakis males had studied at now allowed females to attend than he had been at his younger son's scheme to cheat the system.

He had been a lot more annoyed when the same school had three years earlier written
Theo dislikes authority and is not a team player
on his own report card.

It was a frequently occurring theme during his school days and it never failed to produce a furious response from his father, who worked hard to eradicate the rebellious streak in the son he considered too emotional and arty. Theo did not resent his father's attitude; he considered he
had been tough but fair and he had only ever had Theo's best interests at heart. He considered it his job to prepare his son for the future that was mapped out for the eldest Kyriakis son.

His father's voice echoed in his mind.
Along with privilege, Theo, comes responsibility.

When he had added,
You weren't born a leader, Theo, but we can make you one,
Theo had known he was thinking of his elder brother, Niki, who had died so tragically young.

Niki had been born a leader.

He had not embarrassed his father with emotional outbursts—he had been charming and universally admired. Niki had not spent his free time alone in the art room; he had captained the school sports teams to triumph.

Niki was dead and it was his fault. Nobody had ever come out and said so, but it was what they thought—it was what he thought.

He snapped back to the present to find Beth regarding him with mute dislike and continued, ‘Andreas didn't pay her or bully her; she just wanted to do something nice for him because she worshipped him.'

‘You're comparing me to a teenager?' A teenager had the excuse of extreme youth—she didn't.

‘They were seven.'

‘Seven? He was sent away to school at seven?' At seven, she had been climbing into her gran's bed every night after waking from night terrors.

‘We both were.'

‘That's barbaric!' she exclaimed.

Theo shrugged dismissively in response to her shocked response but, should he ever have a son—a possibility that seemed at present doubtful—this was a Kyriakis tradition he intended to break with.

‘At another time I'd love to hear your views on modern parenting, but…'

Beth compressed her lips and thought
sarcastic rat
. ‘I suppose
you'd
say it made you the man you are.'

A man perfectly suited to the brutal cut-throat world he operated in—great at work, hopeless in relationships. She knew the kind; well, not personally, obviously, but you only had to look at him to know he was not a giver, though very possibly good in bed?

The uncensored maverick addition made her eyes widen in alarm.

‘No, actually, I agree with you.'

‘What about?' Calm down—there is no way he can know you were wondering what he was like in bed.

‘It is a totally barbaric practice; I would never do that to my son.' And you told her this why, exactly?

‘Your son?' Beth echoed in surprise, even as she instantly envisaged a baby with golden skin and dark hair lying in her arms, looking up at her with Theo's eyes.

She blinked hard to banish the image. Of course he was going to have children; why was the idea so startling? And why had she seen herself holding his baby?

‘Kyriakis tradition does not consider it so important for daughters to develop toughness and independence while still in the womb.'

‘So their role is to have babies.'

‘And look decorative,' Theo added, deadpan. ‘But there were just the three of us, no girls.'

‘Three?' she exclaimed, momentarily sidetracked. It was the first she had heard of another brother.

She saw something flicker at the back of his eyes but there was no trace of emotion in Theo's voice as he said, ‘Niki was the eldest; he died the year I was sent to prep school.' Where his guilt had remained unexpressed and his
silent grief for the big brother he had worshipped had been interpreted as truculence.

‘Andreas never mentioned him.' This surprised her as he spoke about Theo all the time.

In fact the number of times he came into the conversation—
Theo this, Theo that
—had been irritating the hell out of Beth for years; it made her angry to know that Andreas had spent his life living in his big brother's shadow.

‘Is there any reason he should have?' When they had been growing up, if anyone mentioned their brother's name their father would retreat to his study for days at a time. In later years, it had become an unspoken rule within the family that his name was not mentioned; this had not changed, even after their father's death.

‘Because I'm just the PA?'

He viewed her with narrow-eyed irritation. ‘Do you have to be so defensive? That chip on your shoulder is not attractive.'

Beth ignored the chip jibe, levelled a sweet smile at his face and said, ‘When the alternative is agreeing with everything you say—yes.'

‘My brother did not mention an event that happened when he was little more than a baby; I would not read too much into it. A man does not feel the need to reveal every microscopic detail about himself, though when you are together I'm sure he will bare his soul to you,' he said sardonically, wondering if the female existed who did not feel the need to delve into every corner of a man's life from his politics to childhood traumas.

‘You did.'

‘I—' Theo stopped, an arrested expression spreading across his dark features as he realised she was right.

A flicker of wariness appeared in his eyes as he met Beth Farley's challenging gaze. After a six month mutually
pleasing arrangement, the last woman he had slept with, the divine and work-orientated Camilla, had known little about his personal likes and dislikes outside the bedroom and he had felt no impulse whatever to reveal them.

Not that it was a totally equal comparison. Elizabeth Farley was
not
the woman in his life, though, possibly, considering his growing fascination with her sulky sexy mouth, he should find a replacement for Camilla.

His brother's assistant was just a good listener, which was why he chose women who were interested in very little other than themselves—you knew exactly where you were with egocentric, beautiful women. It was the warm, fluffy ones oozing empathy you had to view with suspicion—they were the ones who morphed into bunny-boilers when you rejected their devotion.

They did not understand the meaning or the advantages of keeping things light.

Theo drew their conversation to a close by withdrawing a phone from his pocket and selecting a number. While he was waiting for someone to pick up, he consulted his watch. ‘It's eleven now; that gives us eight hours.'

‘Eight hours to what?'

‘To make you the woman of my brother's dreams.'

Beth, who had thought she might buy a new dress on the way home, stared. ‘What are you talking about?'

He waved her silent and spoke into the receiver. ‘Nicola…no, leave that today. I have a job for you.' He glanced towards Beth and added, ‘It won't be easy, but I think you're up to it.'

Beth watched, her blood quietly simmering, while he got to his feet, walked across to the other side of the room and began to pace up and down as he spoke, issuing a number of terse instructions, reminding her as he did so of some lithe, sleek jungle predator. He was a total pain but, aesthetically
speaking, there was no denying he was also pretty riveting to watch.

Theo returned a moment later. ‘Right, that's organised.'

‘What's organised?' Beth's enthusiasm for the project was cooling in direct proportion to his zeal. You'll never know if you don't try, reminded the voice in her head.

‘An appointment at the spa for a bit of pampering.' He left the details to Nicola, who, he was sure, knew all there was to know about female grooming. ‘Hair, make-up, a suitable outfit.'

As she listened, Beth's wariness grew. It was one thing to fantasise about blowing Andreas away with her stunning beauty but this wasn't fantasy, it was real, and she could see several flaws in his plan.

He walked purposefully towards the door, clearly expecting her to follow. When she made no attempt to move, he turned, his broad brow pleated in a frown. ‘Is there a problem?'

Other than you being the rudest, most manipulative man on the planet? ‘I have a stack of work to do. I can't walk out in the middle of the morning.'

‘Your dedication does you credit but, as the person paying your salary, I give you permission to leave early. In fact, I insist upon it.'

The smooth rejoinder made Beth frown darkly. ‘Until I leave, Andreas pays my salary,' she said, not budging. ‘And, anyway, how long can it take to get ready?' Usually, she allowed herself ten minutes.

‘I pay Andreas's salary,' he said, walking across to her desk and, with an end-of-the-story gesture, he depressed the switch on her laptop. ‘And if you do what I say, you won't need to leave.'

Beth's angry eyes flew to his. ‘This is not going to work and we both know it.'

‘Do you want to spend the rest of your life wondering what if?' he goaded softly. ‘Or are you the sort of girl who finds her own white charger and goes to rescue her prince?'

Beth shook her head. ‘You are one manipulative…' She bit her tongue and eyed him with narrow-eyed dislike. ‘If I wasn't a nice girl…'

He laughed down into her angry, flushed face. ‘
Nice
has a limited appeal for men, Elizabeth.'

‘Not all men are as disgusting as you.'

‘I think you will find they actually are, Elizabeth. Now, let's leave
nice
. I think it is your other…
qualities
that need some work.'

Beth planted her hands on her hips and, tapping a foot on the wooden floor, stuck out her chin. ‘Don't start minding my feelings now; if you're trying to say I'm not sexy, go ahead,' she invited. ‘It's not exactly news to me.'

There was a gleam in his eyes that Beth found most disturbing as his glance slid down the length of her body before returning to her face.

‘Now that,' he approved, ‘is a good look for you. Just carry on thinking what you are now and we're halfway there.'

‘I'm thinking you are a hateful creep!'

The mocking glint in his dark eyes deepened. ‘Why, Elizabeth, you're fighting it but I think you're starting to like me.'

‘Sure, you're my hero.'