The Andreou Marriage Arrangement. HELEN BIANCHINЧитать онлайн книгу.
a casual sophisticated look…one she knew to be deceiving, given the power he wielded in the business arena.
‘Loukas.’ Her greeting was polite, almost formal as dark eyes seared her own, and for a moment she experienced the strangest feeling that time stood still. Then it was gone.
‘Shall we get this over and done with?’
Was that a faint edge of humour apparent, or simply a trick of the light? She couldn’t be sure in the brief instant before he stood to one side and indicated the black Aston Martin parked in the forecourt.
She walked at his side to the car, aware of his close proximity as he opened the passenger door and saw her seated before crossing to slip in behind the wheel.
There was an unwanted sense of nervousness she strove hard to hide as he fired the engine and eased the powerful car onto the road.
A shared meal, during which she’d state her perspective, negotiate…and hopefully resolve the terms of Dimitri’s will to their mutual satisfaction.
In a short space of time Loukas drew the Aston Martin to a halt at the entrance to the Ritz-Carlton hotel and organized valet parking.
Pleasant choice, Alesha approved, having dined in the restaurant on a few occasions.
Except once inside the foyer Loukas indicated the lift.
‘My suite will afford us some privacy.’
Her nerve-ends coiled in painful protest at the thought of being alone with him. ‘I’d prefer the restaurant.’
‘And risk public scrutiny?’ he elaborated quietly. ‘Possibly be overheard or photographed discussing a private matter?’
The fact that he was right didn’t help much. Speculation would run rife soon enough when Loukas Andreou’s continued presence in Sydney was noted. Especially when his extensive shareholding in Karsouli became known.
There was little she could do but acquiesce, albeit with some reluctance, duly observed, she noted as she bore Loukas’ slightly hooded gaze as they rode the lift to his designated floor.
You can do this, a silent voice bade as she watched Loukas swipe a card and usher her into his suite. Loukas had her late father’s trust. Otherwise Dimitri would never have structured his will the way he had.
Would he?
Dear God, how would she know…for sure?
With both parents gone, she had become very selective in whom she chose to confide in. Not even Lacey, a dear friend from childhood, knew everything about her first marriage. Some details were too personal…too hurtful to divulge.
‘Relax,’ Loukas drawled. ‘I’m not about to hit on you.’
Alesha directed him a level look. ‘I would deal with it if you did.’ Hadn’t she trained hard to effectively do so?
He shrugged out of his jacket, tossed it onto the large king-size bed, then he undid the cuffs on his shirt and turned them back twice, revealing muscular forearms sprinkled with dark hair.
‘Can I take your jacket?’
‘I’m fine, thanks.’
‘Why don’t you take a seat?’ He indicated a comfortable chair. ‘Would you like something to drink?’
‘Can we pass on the social niceties and go straight to the matter at hand?’
He regarded her carefully for several long seconds, and she glimpsed a muscle tighten at the edge of his jaw.
‘By all means,’ he concurred with deliberate indolence. ‘Then we’ll eat.’
Alesha was so tempted to vent. Anger had built to a point where throwing a hissy fit would at least relieve some of her angst. Yet, conversely, it was probably exactly what he expected of her.
‘The terms of my father’s will are unconscionable.’
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘Apropos the marriage clause?’
‘You agree with it?’ Her eyes widened measurably. ‘What manner of man are you?’
‘One who prefers to embark on marriage with an honest foundation at its base.’
The look she gave him should have shrivelled him on the spot. Except it had no effect whatsoever.
‘Oh…please. Let’s not forget the primary focus.’
‘Karsouli?’
Alesha allowed herself a faintly bitter smile. ‘Dimitri’s trump card.’
Loukas offered a thoughtful look. ‘Perhaps.’
She stilled, suddenly alert. ‘What are you saying?’
‘Dimitri made a few errors in financial judgement in recent months.’
Her shock was real and barely masked. ‘I don’t believe you.’
‘The global economic climate worked against him, so too did his failing health.’
Failing health? ‘He was killed in a car accident.’
Loukas’ gaze didn’t waver. ‘Your father risked heart failure unless he agreed to undergo heart transplant surgery. He refused, and bartered a deal with me to safeguard Karsouli.’ He waited a beat. ‘And you.’
No. The word echoed as a silent scream, and the blood chilled in her veins.
Oh, dear God.
‘Karsouli needed a large injection of cash in order to remain solvent.’
‘How much?’ The demand almost choked her.
‘Half a billion dollars.’
That much?
Selling off a twenty-five-per-cent share represented the injection of cash. The gift via Dimitri’s will, conditional on marriage, would have been a sufficiently attractive enticement.
Karsouli would survive and flourish beneath Loukas Andreou’s skilled leadership.
Of which she would become a joint partner and director. There was just one major snag…In order to achieve both, she had to agree to marry Loukas Andreou.
Two pluses versus one minus.
Alesha took a deep calming breath…not that it had any effect. ‘I’ll need to verify those facts.’
‘Of course. I have certified copies of relevant documentation for you to peruse.’
Somehow she didn’t expect any less of him. Even given the advantage of his father’s success, Loukas appeared very much an achiever determined to forge his own destiny, both professionally and personally.
She accepted the paperwork, took time to read and absorb the data, aware of a sinking heart with every page.
The slim hope there might be a mistake disappeared as she was forced to face the inevitable.
With care she placed the papers onto the table, then met his hooded gaze. ‘Why did you sanction Dimitri’s terms?’
One eyebrow lifted. ‘The truth? His request coincided with a promise I had made to my own father to marry and provide an heir.’
‘How noble,’ Alesha accorded sweetly. ‘To sacrifice yourself out of duty and family loyalty.’ She sharpened a figurative barb. ‘Were none of the many women who attach themselves to you suitable wife material?’
His features assumed musing cynicism. ‘No.’
‘What if I choose to contest the marriage clause?’
His eyes speared her own, dark with dangerous intent, and belying the quiet purpose in his voice.
‘Should you refuse, the purchase will fall through.