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Acquired By Her Greek Boss
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«Acquired By Her Greek Boss»
- Шантель Шоу
A mistress to seal the deal…Greek tycoon Alekos Gionakis thought he knew the value of his secretary, but her newly transformed appearance – and surprising secret parentage – has him reappraising his most precious asset!Alekos knows that he can offer beautiful Sara Lovejoy the ability to meet her family under his protection, whilst also securing a secret deal… providing she agrees to become his mistress!But his best plaid plans are about to go awry, because her innocence is the one thing this powerful tycoon is about to realize is priceless.
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A mistress to seal the deal...
Greek tycoon Alekos Gionakis thought he knew the value of his secretary, but her newly transformed appearance—and surprising secret parentage—has him reappraising his most precious asset!
Alekos knows that he can offer beautiful Sara Lovejoy the ability to meet her family, under his protection, while also securing a secret deal...providing she agrees to become his mistress!
But his best-laid plans are about to go awry, because her innocence is the one thing this powerful tycoon will realize is priceless.
Alekos was offering Sara what might be her only opportunity to meet her blood relations. Common sense doused her excitement. ‘It would look strange if you took your PA to a private engagement.’
‘Possibly, but you wouldn’t be there as my PA. You would accompany me as my date. My mistress,’ he explained, when she stared at him uncomprehendingly.
For a third time Sara’s heart jolted against her ribs. ‘We agreed to forget about the kiss we shared last night.’ She flushed, hating how she’d sounded breathless when she had intended her voice to be cool and crisp.
His eyes gleamed like hot coals for a second, before the fire in those dark depths was replaced by the faintly cynical expression that Sara was more used to seeing.
‘I don’t remember agreeing to forget about it,’ he drawled. ‘But I’m suggesting that we pretend to be in a relationship. If people believe you are my girlfriend it will seem perfectly reasonable for you to be with me.’
CHANTELLE SHAW lives on the Kent coast and thinks up her stories while walking on the beach. She has been married for over thirty years and has six children. Her love affair with reading and writing Mills & Boon stories began as a teenager, and her first book was published in 2006. She likes strong-willed, slightly unusual characters. Chantelle also loves gardening, walking and wine!
Books by Chantelle Shaw
Mills & Boon Modern Romance
To Wear His Ring Again
A Night in the Prince’s Bed
Captive in His Castle
At Dante’s Service
The Greek’s Acquisition
Behind the Castello Doors
Wedlocked!
Trapped by Vialli’s Vows
Bought by the Brazilian
Mistress of His Revenge
Master of Her Innocence
The Howard Sisters
Sheikh’s Forbidden Conquest
A Bride Worth Millions
The Chatsfield
Billionaire’s Secret
The Bond of Brothers
His Unexpected Legacy
Secrets of a Powerful Man
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
Acquired by Her Greek Boss
Chantelle Shaw
For Pippa Roscoe, Thank you for being a wonderful editor, for giving great advice, for the laughs we’ve shared and your understanding (and occasional tear-mopping) when I’ve struggled with a book! Best wishes always, Chantelle
Contents
‘CAN I HELP YOU?’ Alekos Gionakis said curtly, when he strode into his office on Monday morning and found an unknown woman making coffee with his espresso machine.
In the past month he’d had four temporary PAs, all of whom had proved inadequate to the task of organising his hectic schedule. But this morning his super-efficient personal assistant was due back at work after her holiday and Alekos was looking forward to his life running smoothly again. The idea that Sara might have delayed her return for some reason, and he would have to manage for even one more day with yet another temp, cast a dark cloud over his mood.
His rapier glance skimmed over the woman’s hair that fell in loose waves around her shoulders and seemed to encompass every shade of brown from caramel to latte. Her delightfully curvaceous figure was packaged in a dusky pink blouse and a cream pencil skirt that was a good two inches shorter than knee length.
Moving his gaze lower, Alekos felt a jolt of masculine appreciation at her shapely legs, which were enhanced by her high-heeled shoes with cut-out sections at the front that revealed her bare toes. He noticed her toenails were varnished a flirty shade of hot pink that was more suited to a beach than to Gionakis Enterprises’ prestigious offices in Piccadilly.
‘Good morning, Alekos.’
He frowned at the sound of the familiar voice. Low-toned and melodious, for some reason it made him think of a cool, clear mountain stream.
‘Sara?’ Her voice was recognisable, but everything about his PA’s appearance was definitely not. His brain was not playing tricks on him, Alekos realised when she turned her head. Even though she was standing several feet away from him, he was struck by the intense green of her eyes. They were her only remarkable features—or at least that had been true when Sara’s style of workwear for the past two years had been a navy blue skirt and jacket, which she’d teamed with a plain white shirt, buttoned primly all the way up to her throat in the summer, or a black roll-neck sweater in colder weather.
Smart, practical and frankly unnoticeable was how Alekos would have described his PA’s appearance before she had inconveniently decided to take a month’s holiday in Spain. When he’d objected, she had reminded him that she hadn’t used any of her annual leave since she’d started working for him, apart from one day to attend her mother’s funeral. Sara had looked even more washed out than she usually did. Alekos was not renowned for his sensitivity, but he’d acknowledged that caring for her terminally ill mother must have been a strain and he’d reluctantly agreed to her taking an extended holiday.
He had vaguely imagined her on a scenic coach tour of Spain to visit places of historical and architectural interest. He knew she liked history. No doubt the majority of the other people on the tour would be pensioners and she would strike up a friendship with a spinster, or perhaps a widow who was travelling alone and who would be grateful for Sara’s innately kind nature.
Alekos’s rather cosy picture of his PA’s holiday plans had been disrupted when she’d told him that she was going away on a YFS trip—which stood for Young, Free and Single. As their name suggested, the tour operator specialised in holidays for people in the twenty-something age bracket who wanted to spend every night clubbing, or partying on a beach. The media often reported scenes of drunken debauchery by Brits in Benidorm. When he had pointed out that a better name for the holiday company would be AFS—Available For Sex—Sara had laughed and, to Alekos’s astonishment, told him she was looking forward to letting her hair down in Spain.
His eyes were drawn back to her hair. He visualised her as she had looked every weekday for the past two years. She had always worn her nondescript brown hair scraped back from her face and piled on top of her head in a no-nonsense bun that defied gravity with the aid of an arsenal of metal hairpins.
‘You’re wearing your hair in a new style,’ he said abruptly. ‘I was trying to work out why you look different.’
‘Mmm, I had it cut while I was away. It was so long, almost waist length, and I was fed up of having to tie it up all the time.’ She ran her fingers through the silky layers of her new hairstyle. In the sunshine streaming through the window, her hair seemed to shimmer like gold in places and Alekos felt an unexpected tightening sensation in his groin.
‘And I finally ditched my glasses for contact lenses. Although I must admit they’re taking a while to get used to.’ Sara sounded rueful. ‘My new contacts make my eyes water sometimes.’
Alekos was relieved that she wasn’t fluttering her eyelashes at him seductively, but she was blinking presumably because her contact lenses felt strange. Without the thick-rimmed glasses he was used to seeing her wearing, her cheekbones were more noticeable and her face was prettier than his memory served him.
He wondered if she’d had some sort of surgical procedure to her lips. Surely he would have remembered the fullness of her lips—and, Theos, that faint pout of her lower lip that tempted him to test its softness with his own mouth. He forced his mind away from such a ridiculous idea and reminded himself that this was Miss Mouse, the name that one of his legion of leggy blonde mistresses had unkindly christened Sara.
The nickname had suited her plain looks but not her dry wit that frequently amused Alekos, or her sharp mind and even sharper tongue that he had come to respect, because Sara Lovejoy was the only woman he had ever met who wasn’t afraid to state her opinion—even if it was different to his.
‘I’ll put your coffee on your desk, shall I?’ Without waiting for him to reply, Sara walked across the room and placed a cup of coffee on the desk in front of Alekos’s chair. He could not help himself from focusing on the sensual undulation of her hips as she walked, and when she leaned across the desk her skirt pulled tighter across the curves of her buttocks.
Alekos cleared his throat audibly and tightened his fingers on the handle of his briefcase as he moved it in front of him to hide the evidence that he was aroused. What the blazes was the matter with him? For the first time in a month he had woken in a good mood this morning, knowing that Sara would be back and between them they would clear the backlog of work that had built up while she’d been away.
But work was the last thing on his mind when she turned to face him and he noticed how her pink silk shirt lovingly moulded the firm swell of her breasts. The top two buttons on her blouse were undone, not enough to reveal any cleavage but more than enough to quicken his pulse as he visualised himself removing her shirt and her lace-edged bra that he could see outlined beneath the silky material of her top.
He forced his gaze away from her breasts down to her surprisingly slim waist and cleared his throat again. ‘You...er...appear to have lost some weight.’
‘A few pounds, as a matter of fact. I expect it was down to all the exercise I did while I was on holiday.’
What sort of exercise had she done on a young, free and single’s holiday? Alekos was not usually prone to flights of imagination but his mind was bombarded with pictures of his new-look PA discarding her inhibitions and enjoying energetic nights with a Spanish Lothario.
‘Ah, yes, your holiday. I hope you enjoyed yourself?’
‘I certainly did.’
Her grin made him think of a satisfied cat that had drunk a bowlful of cream. ‘I’m glad to hear it,’ he said tersely. ‘But you are not on holiday now, so I’m wondering why you’ve come to work wearing clothes that are more suitable for the beach than the office.’
When Alekos spoke in that coldly disapproving tone, people tended to immediately take notice and respond with the respect he commanded. But Sara simply shrugged and smoothed her hand over her skirt.
‘Oh, I wore a lot less than this on the beach. It’s perfectly acceptable for women to go topless on the beaches in the French Riviera.’
Had Sara gone topless? He tried to banish the vision of his prim PA displaying her bare breasts in public. ‘I thought you went to Spain for your holiday?’
‘I changed my plans at the last minute.’
While Alekos was registering the fact that his ultra-organised PA had apparently changed her holiday destination on a whim, Sara strolled towards him. Why had he never noticed until now that her green eyes sparkled like emeralds when she smiled? He was irritated with himself for thinking such poetic nonsense but he could not stop staring at her.
Along with her new hairstyle and clothes, she was wearing a different perfume: a seductive scent which combined spiky citrus with deeper, exotically floral notes that stirred his senses—and stirred a lot more besides, he acknowledged derisively when he felt himself harden.
‘So, where do you want me?’ she murmured.
‘What?’ He stiffened as a picture leapt into his mind of Sara sprawled on the leather sofa with her skirt rucked up around her waist and her legs spread wide, waiting for him to position himself between her thighs.
Cursing beneath his breath, Alekos fought to control his rampant libido and realised that his PA was giving him an odd look. ‘Shall I sort out the pile of paperwork on my desk that I presume the temp left for me to deal with, or do you want me to stay in here and take notes from you?’ she repeated patiently.
She put her hands on her hips, drawing his attention to the narrowness of her waist that served to emphasise the rounded curves of her breasts. ‘I understand that the temp I arranged to cover my absence only lasted a week, and HR organised three more replacements but you dismissed them after a few days.’
‘They were all useless,’ he snapped. Glancing at his watch, Alekos discovered that he had wasted ten minutes ogling his PA, who normally did not warrant more than a five second glance. He felt unsettled by his awareness of Sara as an attractive woman and was annoyed with himself for his physical response to her. ‘I hope you are prepared for the fact that we have a ton of work to catch up on.’
‘I guessed you’d have me tied to my desk when I came back to work,’ she said airily.
Alekos’s eyes narrowed on her serene expression, and he was thrown by the idea that she knew the effect she was having on him. His mental vision of her tied, face down, across her desk made his blood sizzle. He felt confused by his inability to control his response to her.
This was dull, drab Sara—although, admittedly, he had never found her dull when she’d made it clear, soon after he’d promoted her from a secretary in the accounts department to his PA, that she wasn’t going to worship him like most women did. But her frumpy appearance had been one reason why he had chosen her. His position as chairman of GE demanded his absolute focus and there was no risk of him being distracted by Miss Mouse.
Alekos had become chairman of the company, which specialised in building luxury superyachts, two years ago, following the death of his father, and he had decided that Sara’s unexciting appearance, exemplary secretarial skills and excellent work ethic would make her his ideal PA.
He walked around his desk, lowered his long frame into his chair and took a sip of coffee before he glanced at her. ‘I need to make a few phone calls and no doubt you will have plenty of stuff to catch up on, so come back in half an hour and bring the Viceroy file with you.’
‘Aren’t you forgetting something? The word please,’ Sara reminded him crisply when he raised his brows questioningly. ‘Honestly, Alekos, no wonder you frightened off four temps in as many weeks if you were as surly with them as you’re behaving this morning. I suppose you’ve got woman trouble? That’s the usual reason when you come to work with a face like thunder.’
‘You must know by now that I never allow my relationships to last long enough for women to become troublesome,’ Alekos said smoothly. He leaned back in his chair and gave her a hard stare. ‘Remind me again, Sara, why I tolerate your insolence?’
Across the room he saw her eyes sparkle and her mouth curve into a smile that inexplicably made Alekos feel as if he’d been punched in his gut. ‘Because I’m good at my job and you don’t want to sleep with me. That’s what you told me at my interview and I assume nothing has changed?’
She stepped out of his office and closed the door behind her before he could think of a suitably cutting retort. He glared at the space where she had been standing seconds earlier. Theos, sometimes she overstepped the mark. His nostrils flared with annoyance. He could not explain the odd sensation in the pit of his stomach when he caught the drift of her perfume that still lingered in the room.
He felt rattled by Sara’s startling physical transformation from frump to sexpot. But he reminded himself that her honesty was one of the things he admired about her. He doubted that any of the three hundred employees at Gionakis Enterprises’ London offices, and probably none of the three thousand staff employed by the company worldwide, would dream of speaking to him as bluntly as Sara did. It made a refreshing change to have someone challenge him when most people, especially women, always said yes to him.
He briefly wondered what she would say if he told her that he had changed his mind and wanted to take her to bed. Would she be willing to have sex with him, or would Sara be the only woman to refuse him? Alekos was almost tempted to find out. But practicality outweighed his inconvenient and, he confidently assumed, fleeting attraction to her, when he reminded himself that there were any number of women who would be happy to help him relieve his sexual frustration but a good PA was worth her weight in gold.
The day’s schedule was packed. Alekos opened his laptop but, unusually for him, he could not summon any enthusiasm for work. He swivelled his chair round to the window and stared down at the busy street five floors below, where red London buses, black taxis and kamikaze cyclists competed for road space.
He liked living in England’s capital city, although he much preferred the current June sunshine to the dank drizzle and short days of the winter. After his father’s death it had been expected by the members of the board, and his family, that Alekos would move back to Greece permanently and run the company from GE’s offices in Athens. His father, Kostas Gionakis, and before him Alekos’s grandfather, the founder of the company, had both done so.
His decision to move the company’s headquarters to London had been mainly for business reasons. London was closer to GE’s growing client list in Florida and the Bahamas, and the cosmopolitan capital was ideally suited to entertain a clientele made up exclusively of millionaires and billionaires, who were prepared to spend eye-watering amounts of cash on a superyacht—the ultimate status symbol.
On a personal front, Alekos had been determined to establish himself as the new company chairman away from his father’s power base in Greece. The grand building in Athens which had been GE’s headquarters looked like a palace and Kostas Gionakis had been king. Alekos never forgot that he was the usurper to the throne.
His jaw clenched. Dimitri should have been chairman, not him. But his brother was dead—killed twenty years ago, supposedly in a tragic accident. Alekos’s parents had been devastated and he had never told them of his suspicions about the nature of Dimitri’s death.
Alekos had been fourteen at the time, the youngest in the family, born six years after Dimitri and after their three sisters. He had idolised his brother. Everyone had admired the Gionakis heir. Dimitri was handsome, athletic and clever and had been groomed from boyhood to take over running the family business. Alekos was the spare heir should the unthinkable happen to Dimitri.
But the unthinkable had happened. Dimitri had died and Alekos had suddenly become the future of the company—a fact that his father had never allowed him to forget.
Had Kostas believed that his youngest son would make as good a chairman of GE as his firstborn son? Alekos doubted it. He had felt that he was second best in his father’s eyes. He knew that was still the opinion of some of the board members who disapproved of his playboy lifestyle.
But he would prove those who doubted his abilities wrong. In the two years that he had been chairman the company’s profits had increased and they were expanding into new markets around the globe. Perhaps his father would have been proud of him. Alekos would never know. But what he knew for sure was that he could not allow himself to be distracted by his PA simply because her sexy new look had stirred his desire.
Turning away from the window, he opened a document on his laptop and resolutely focused on work. He had inherited the company by default. He owed it to Dimitri’s memory to ensure that Gionakis Enterprises continued to be as successful as it had been when his father was chairman, and as Alekos was sure it would have been under his brother’s leadership.
* * *
Sara ignored a stab of guilt as she passed her desk, piled with paperwork that required her attention, and hurried into the bathroom. The mirror above the sink confirmed her fears. Her flushed cheeks and dilated pupils betrayed her reaction to Alekos that she had been unable to control.
She felt as though she had been holding her breath the entire time she had been in his office. Why was it that she’d managed to hide her awareness of him for two years but when she had set eyes on him this morning after she hadn’t seen him for a month her pulse-rate had rocketed and her mouth had felt dry?
The sensation of her heart slamming against her ribcage whenever she was in close proximity to Alekos wasn’t new, but she had perfected the art of hiding her emotions behind a cool smile, aware that her job depended on it. When Alekos had elevated her to the role of his PA over several other suitably qualified candidates for the job, he had bluntly told her that he never mixed business with pleasure and there was no chance of a sexual relationship developing between them. His arrogance had irritated Sara and she’d almost told him that she had no intention of copying her mother’s mistake by having an affair with her boss.
During the eighteen months that she had worked in the accounts department before her promotion, she’d heard that the company’s board members disapproved of Alekos’s playboy lifestyle, which attracted the wrong type of press interest, and she understood why he was determined to keep his relationship with his staff on a strictly professional footing. What Alekos wanted from his PA was efficiency, dedication and the ability to blend into the background—and plain, conservatively dressed Sara had fitted the bill perfectly.
In truth she would have worn a nun’s habit to the office if Alekos had required her to because she was so keen to secure the job. Her promotion to personal assistant of the chairman of Gionakis Enterprises had finally won her mother’s praise. For the first time in her life she had felt that she wasn’t a disappointment to Joan Lovejoy. The surname was a misnomer if ever there was one because, as far as Sara could tell, there had been no love or joy in her mother’s life.
She’d wondered if her mother had loved the man who’d abandoned her after he had made her pregnant. But Joan had refused to reveal Sara’s father’s identity and only ever made a few oblique references to him, notably that he had once been an Oxford don and it was a pity that Sara hadn’t inherited his academic brilliance.
Sara had spent most of her life comparing herself to a nameless, faceless man who had helped to create her but she had never met—until six weeks ago. Now she knew that she had inherited her green eyes from her father. He was no longer faceless, or nameless. His name was Lionel Kingsley and he was a well-known politician. She’d been stunned when he had phoned her and revealed that there was a possibility she might be his daughter. She had agreed to a DNA test to see if he was really her father but she had been sure of the result before the test had proved it. When she looked into a mirror she saw her father’s eyes looking back at her.
For the first time in her life she felt she was a whole person, and so many things about herself suddenly made sense, like her love of art and her creativity that she’d always suppressed because her mother had pushed her to concentrate on academic subjects.
Lionel was a widower and had two grown-up children. Her half-siblings! Sara felt excited and nervous at the thought of meeting her half-brother and half-sister. She understood Lionel’s concern that his son and daughter from his marriage might be upset to learn that he had an illegitimate daughter, and she had told herself to be patient and wait until he was ready to acknowledge publicly that he was her father. Finally it was going to happen. Lionel had invited her to his home at the weekend so that he could introduce her to Freddie and Charlotte Kingsley.
Sara had seen pictures of them and discovered that she bore a striking resemblance to her half-siblings. But the physical similarities between her and her half-sister did not apply to their very different dress styles. Photographs of Charlotte wearing stylish, figure-hugging clothes had made Sara realise how frumpy she looked in comparison. The smart suits she wore to the office reflected the importance of her role as PA to the chairman of the company and she had reminded herself that if Alekos had wanted a decorative bimbo to be his PA he wouldn’t have chosen her.
The new clothes she had bought while she had been on holiday did not make her look like a bimbo, Sara reassured herself. The skirt and blouse she was wearing were perfectly respectable for the office. Shopping in the chic boutiques on the French Riviera where her father owned a holiday villa had been a revelation. Remembering the photos she’d seen of her stylish half-sister had prompted Sara to try on colourful summery outfits. She had dropped a dress size from plenty of swimming and playing tennis and she loved being able to fit into skirts and dresses that showed off her more toned figure.
She ran her fingers through her new layered hairstyle. She still wasn’t used to her hair swishing around her shoulders when she turned her head. It made her feel more feminine and, well...sexy. She’d had a few blonde highlights put through the front sections of her hair to complement the natural lighter streaks from where she had spent a month in the French sunshine.
Maybe it was true that blondes did have more fun. But the truth was that meeting her father had given her a new sense of self-confidence. The part of her that had been missing was now complete, and Sara didn’t want to fade into the background any more. Travelling to work on the Tube this morning, she’d wondered if Alekos would notice her changed appearance.
She stared at her flushed face in the mirror and grimaced. All right, she had hoped he would notice her, instead of treating her like a piece of office furniture: functional, necessary but utterly uninteresting.
Well, she had got her wish. Alekos had stopped dead in his tracks when he’d seen her and his shocked expression had changed to a speculative gleam as his eyes had roamed over her. Heat had swept through her body when his gaze lingered on her breasts. She felt embarrassed thinking he might have noticed that her nipples had hardened in a telltale sign that he excited her more than any man had ever done.
Her decision to revamp her appearance suddenly seemed like a bad idea. When she’d dressed in dowdy clothes she hadn’t had to worry that Alekos might catch her glancing at him a dozen times a day, because he rarely seemed to notice that she was a human being and not a robot. Remembering the hot, hard gleam in his eyes when she had been in his office just now sent a tremor through her, and a little part of her wished she could rush back home and change into her safe navy blue suit. But when she’d returned home from her holiday she’d found that all her old clothes were too big, and she’d packed them into black sacks and donated them to a charity shop.
There was no going back. The old Sara Lovejoy was gone for ever and the new Sara was here to stay. Alekos would just have to get used to it.
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