Greek Mavericks: Winning The Enigmatic Greek. Tara PammiЧитать онлайн книгу.
I’m curious. How did that happen? How did you get from being flown around Europe on private jets to...this? Your mother must have made a stack of money from her various liaisons with wealthy men and her habit of giving tell-all interviews to the press. Doesn’t she help fund her daughter’s lifestyle?’
Keeley stared him out, thinking how very wrong he’d got it but she wasn’t going to tell him. Why should she? Some things were just too painful to recount, especially to a cold and uncaring man like him. ‘That’s none of your business,’ she snapped.
A calculating look entered his eyes. ‘Well, whatever it is you’re doing—it clearly isn’t working. So how about earning yourself a bonus?’ he continued softly. ‘A big, fat bonus which could catapult you out of the poverty trap?’
She looked at him suspiciously, trying to dampen down the automatic spring of hope in her heart. ‘Doing what?’
He shrugged. ‘Your home is surprisingly clean and tidy, so I assume you’re capable of doing housework. Just as I assume you’re able to follow simple instructions and help around the kitchen.’
‘And you trust me enough to employ me?’
‘I don’t know. Can I?’ His gaze seared into her. ‘I imagine the reason for your relative poverty is probably because you’re unreliable and easily bored by the mundane—and that maybe things didn’t fall into your lap as effortlessly as you thought they might. Am I right, Keeley? Did you discover that you weren’t as successful a freeloader as your mother?’
‘Go to hell,’ she snapped.
‘But I suspect that if the price was right you would be prepared to knuckle down,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘So how about if I offered you a month as a temporary domestic on my Greek estate—and the opportunity to earn yourself the kind of money which could transform your life?’
Her heart was beating very hard. ‘And why would you do that?’ she croaked.
‘You know why.’ His voice grew harsh. ‘I don’t want you in London when Pavlos returns. He’s due to fly to Melbourne in two weeks’ time, hopefully with a diamond ring tucked inside his pocket—and after that, I don’t care what you do. Let’s just call it an insurance policy, shall we? I’m prepared to pay a big premium to keep you out of my brother’s life.’
His disapproval washed over her like dirty water and Keeley wanted to tell him exactly what he could do with his offer, yet she couldn’t ignore the nagging voice in her head which was urging her to be realistic. Could she really afford to turn down the kind of opportunity which would probably never come her way again, just because she loathed the man who was making it?
‘Tempted?’ he questioned softly.
Oh, she was tempted, all right. Tempted to tell him that she’d never met anyone so charmless and insulting. Keeley felt her skin grow hot as she realised he was offering her a job as some kind of skivvy. Someone to get her hands dirty by tidying up after him and his fancy guests. To chop vegetables and change his bed while he cavorted on the silvery beach with whoever his current squeeze was—probably the stunning redhead he’d taken to the gallery opening with him. He was looking down his proud and patrician nose at her and she opened her mouth to say she’d rather starve than accept his offer until she reminded herself of the significant fact she’d been in danger of forgetting. Because it wasn’t just herself she had to consider, was it?
She stared down at one of the holes in the carpet as she thought of her mother and the little treats which added to her life, even though she was completely oblivious to them. The weekly manicure and occasional hairdo to primp those thinning curls into some sort of shape, so that in some ways she resembled the woman she had once been. Vivienne Turner didn’t know that these things were being done for her, but Keeley did. Sometimes she shuddered to imagine what her mother’s reaction would have been if she’d been able to look into a crystal ball and see the life she’d been condemned to live. But nobody had a crystal ball, thank goodness. Nobody could see what lay ahead. And when occasionally other patients’ relatives or members of staff recognised the shell of the woman who had once been Vivienne Turner, Keeley was proud that her mother looked as good as she possibly could. Because that would have mattered. To her.
So test him, she thought. See what the mighty Ariston Kavakos is putting on the table. See if it’s big enough to enable you to endure his company for longer than a minute. ‘How much,’ she said baldly, ‘are you offering me?’
Ariston swallowed down his distaste as he heard the shrewd note which had entered her voice and he realised that Keeley’s greed was as transparent as her mother’s. His mouth twisted. How he despised her and everything she stood for. Yet his natural revulsion was not enough to destroy his desire for her and his mouth grew dry as he thought about having sex with Keeley Turner. Because it was inconceivable that she would return to Lasia and not sleep with him. It would bring about satisfaction and closure—for both of them. The fever in his blood would be removed and afterwards she could be quietly airbrushed from all their lives. She would be rewarded with enough money to satisfy her. She would disappear into the sunset. Most important of all—Pavlos would never see her again.
He smiled as he mentioned a sum of money, expecting her simpering gratitude and instant acceptance, but instead he was met with a look from her green eyes which was almost glacial.
‘Double it,’ she said coolly.
Ariston’s smile died but he could feel the insistent beat of lust intensifying because her attitude made his callous plan a whole lot easier to execute. Every woman could be bought, he remembered bitterly. You just had to negotiate the right price.
‘You have a deal,’ he said softly.
LASIA WAS AS beautiful as Keeley remembered it. No. Maybe even more so. Because when you were eighteen you thought that sunny days would never end and beauty would last for ever. You never imagined that life could turn out so different from how you’d imagined. She’d thought the money would last. She’d thought...
No. She gazed out of the car window at the cloudless blue sky. She wasn’t going to do that thing. She wasn’t going to look back. She was here, on this stunning private island, to work for Ariston Kavakos and earn herself a nest egg for her poor, broken mother. Fixing her gaze on the dark blue line of the horizon, she reminded herself to start looking for the positives, not the negatives.
A fancy car had been waiting for her on Lasia’s only airstrip—its air-conditioned interior deliciously welcoming because, even though it was still only springtime, the midday sun was intense. During the flight over she’d wondered if any of Ariston’s staff might remember her and she was dreading any such recognition. But thankfully the driver was new—well, new to her—and his name was Stelios.
He seemed content to remain silent and Keeley said nothing as the powerful car snaked its way through the mountain roads towards the Kavakos complex on the other side of the island. But although outwardly calm, inside she was quaking for all kinds of reasons. For a start, she’d lost her job at the supermarket. Her manager had reacted with incredulity when she’d asked for a month’s unpaid holiday, telling her that she must have taken leave of her senses if she expected those kinds of perks. He’d added rather triumphantly that she was in the wrong job, but deep down Keeley had already known that. Because no matter how hard she’d tried, she’d never fitted in. Not there. Not anywhere if she stopped to think about it—and certainly not here, on this private paradise which exuded untold wealth and privilege. Where costly yachts bobbed on the azure sea as carelessly as a baby floated toys in the bathtub. She leaned forward to get a better look as the car rounded the bend and made its slow descent towards the complex she’d last seen when she was eighteen, blinking her eyes in surprise because everything looked so different.
Oh, not Assimenos Bay—that hadn’t changed. The natural cove with its silvery sand was as stunning as ever, but the vast house which had once