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Mediterranean Tycoons. JACQUELINE BAIRDЧитать онлайн книгу.

Mediterranean Tycoons - JACQUELINE  BAIRD


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sure I have persuaded your husband and Jeff here to close the showroom and let me take everyone out to lunch to celebrate.’

      Eloise said nothing but the grin on her face said it all.

      Five minutes later, the bottle of champagne was opened and the five all raised their glasses. ‘To KHE, Paris. Thanks to you, Ted.’ Harry made the toast.

      Over lunch the deal was discussed. The money Ted was investing would be used for the creation of a KHE boutique in Paris. Better still, Ted actually knew of a property for lease on the Rue St Honoré, one of the most fashionable streets in Paris, and he reckoned if Harry got in quick it could be theirs. Harry had already made the booking for his flight to France the next day and a meeting with the owners, and he had the cheque for the first instalment of Ted’s financing in his pocket.

      The entry phone rang, and Eloise cast a last hasty look at her reflection in the mirrored door of the wardrobe. She grimaced slightly. She had tried for the sophisticated look, and had swept up her hair in a French pleat, and apart from the black skirt she had worn last night, she was wearing the only thing she possessed that was not casual: the suit she had bought for Katy’s wedding. A fine wool jade green suit in a classic style, the jacket short and with a matching camisole underneath, the straight skirt ending an inch above her knees, and kitten-heeled black pumps on her feet. Conservative, she told herself, except for the intricately set silver and amber pendant around her neck and the matching amber earrings, both her own designs.

      Katy had been right last night when she’d made Eloise borrow the gold camisole. It was way past time Eloise updated her wardrobe. But, working behind the scenes in the jewellery business designing and manufacturing, her wardrobe consisted of jeans and sweaters, and a few voluminous Indian cotton caftans, for when the weather was hot. But it was too late to worry about the state of her wardrobe now and, snatching up her purse, she dashed from the bedroom through to the sitting room to the door of her apartment, just as someone knocked on the door.

      Surprised for a second, she hesitated and the knock sounded again, and she opened the door.

      Marcus was leaning negligently against the doorframe, wearing a superbly elegant dark blue suit, and looking every inch the incredibly attractive, sophisticated male of her dreams.

      Heat prickled her skin. ‘How did you get in?’ she demanded. It was not the opening she had planned, it sounded rather aggressive even to her own ears.

      ‘Hello to you, too.’ A sardonic brow arched. ‘Shall I go out and start again.’

      ‘N-no, of course not.’ Eloise stammered, badly shaken by her instant response to his powerful presence.

      ‘Relax, Eloise, your friend Harry downstairs opened the front door.’ He smiled.

      His smile dazzled her and, with his hand at her elbow supporting her, Eloise felt vaguely protected and actually did manage to relax slightly. ‘Harry and Katy are my business partners,’ she offered.

      ‘He sounded more like your guardian.’ Marcus remarked with a wry twist of his lips. ‘He managed, in the space of less than a minute, to ask me who I was, where I was taking you, and what time I intended bringing you back.’

      ‘That sounds like Harry,’ Eloise confirmed with a chuckle, as they exited the outer door to the street. ‘Katy and I met him when we were at art college and looking for somewhere to live. He managed the estate agents, and he took one look at Katy and fell in love. He found us an apartment, and was never away from the door until Katy agreed to go out with him, and now they are married.’

      ‘A determined man; I like that,’ Marcus offered, as he opened the passenger door of a sleek black car and ushered Eloise inside.

      Starting the engine and driving off, Marcus shot her a brief sidelong glance and said, ‘I intended taking you to a rather nice French restaurant, but I’m expecting a call from the west coast of America some time this evening so I’ve arranged for us to dine at my hotel. I hope you don’t mind.’

      Stilling a panicked shiver, Eloise cast a glance at his perfectly chiselled profile, Marcus wasn’t a stranger and it wasn’t their first date, so why was she hesitating?

      ‘Eloise.’ He flicked her a quizzical smile. ‘It was either the hotel, or cancelling our dinner date.’ It wasn’t a lie—he was expecting a call—but also he wanted her on her own when he challenged her to explain her part in the scam her mother had pulled on his uncle.

      ‘Yes, yes. That’s perfectly all right.’ She burst into speech. She was being stupid; she was twenty-four, not fourteen, and with a man who was no stranger to her, for heaven’s sake, she told herself firmly.

      The hotel was one of the best in London, and walking across the vast foyer with Marcus at her side, his hand gently at her elbow guiding her, she was glad she had taken time with her appearance. She was congratulating herself on her ability to mingle with the best, when Marcus stopped in front of a bank of elevators.

      ‘Are we eating in the rooftop restaurant?’ she asked, excitement bubbling in her veins. Walking into the elevator, she turned her sparkling green gaze up to his face adding, ‘I’ve heard of it; the view is supposed to be marvellous.’

      Intent dark eyes watched her apparently simple delight. ‘Not exactly; we are dining in the penthouse suite,’ Marcus drawled. ‘But the view is equally as good. I know because I own the hotel.’

      Involuntarily her jaw dropped. ‘You own…your suite,’ she stammered. The hotel dining room was one thing, but to be alone with Marcus in his suite was inviting intimacy… Eloise blushed scarlet at where her thoughts were leading, and her slim hands closed nervously together. But she could hardly object now, without looking like a fool.

      Black-lashed ebony eyes skimmed over her tense figure, and finally settled on her burning cheeks. ‘The call I am expecting is confidential,’ Marcus murmured dryly. ‘And your body language is very expressive,’ he opined. ‘I invited you to dinner, and you look like you expect to be the main course,’ he chuckled.

      Somehow his laughter eased her tension, and she walked into the elegant room, feeling much more confident. It was a vast room with a dining area. A table was already set with the finest linen and silverware. A few steps led down to the seating area where two large sofas flanked a low occasional table, and a massive glass wall looked out over the city.

      ‘The bathroom is through there if you need it.’ Marcus indicated with a wave of his hand to a large double door set in the rear wall. ‘Have a seat while I order.’

      She looked at the low sofas but opted to sit at the dining table.

      In a matter of minutes Marcus had ordered the meal and a bottle of the best champagne and, after the wine waiter had filled their glasses and left, Marcus lifted his glass to Eloise. ‘To the renewal of our friendship, and may I add you look enchanting.’

      ‘Thank you.’ Eloise blushed, her eyes meeting his across the small table. His incredible eyes darkened for a second, and surprisingly she shivered.

      ‘Cold?’ Marcus asked.

      ‘No, someone walked over my grave. I’m fine, really; it is the first day of spring.’

      ‘Some spring in England!’ Marcus teased. ‘You must come to Greece for Easter. Now that is spring.’ And he went into a description of the wild flowers on Rykos.

      Over a meal of asparagus soup, followed by sea bass cooked in herbs and spices, the conversation flowed easily. Marcus was a witty and educated man, and Eloise gradually felt all her inhibitions disappear as she relaxed and fell deeper under his spell.

      She refused a dessert but quite happily accepted yet another refill of champagne. When the dessert Marcus had ordered arrived, an incredible concoction of various ice creams, chocolate, nuts, and fruit, Eloise laughed out loud.

      ‘You are never going to eat all that,’ she prompted, grinning at the sheepish expression on his handsome face. ‘It looks like a psychedelic leaning tower of Pisa.’

      ‘Now


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