Bought by the Greek Tycoon Read online

  'No, thanks,' Liz replied. 'You know I can only take the beautiful Janine in very small doses. What birthday is it this time—her twenty-eighth for the fourth year running?'

  'Don't be catty! But you're right—although I've been sworn to secrecy. Hey, apparently Jan met an old boyfriend at the dinner party last night.'

  The same dinner party you ducked out of, pleading a headache yet again?' Liz mocked.

  'Yes—well, apparently he is still a bachelor and incredibly wealthy. Jan wants to hook him, so there's to be absolutely no mention of her real age.'

  'Why doesn't that surprise me?' Liz chuckled, a wicked glint in her dark eyes.

  'Naughty!' Jemma smiled.

  'I only wish you would be naughty once in a while.' Liz sighed. 'It's time you got out and enjoyed yourself again.'

  'Well, I am going to the party on Saturday,' Jemma said, walking across to the centre counter and taking the order book from Liz's hand. 'And it's time you went for lunch. Patty's due back any minute, and Ray won't be long.' Patty was a trainee and Ray was a qualified florist, but he spent most of his time as their delivery driver.

  'Okay, I'm going. But I mean it, Jemma. Alan has been dead two years now, and, much as you loved him, it is time you started dating again—or at least considered the possibility, instead of freezing out every handsome man who so much as smiles at you. Haven't you heard? Apart from being no fun, total celibacy is bad for one's health.'

  To Jemma's undying shame, she had not been totally celibate in the last two years—she had made one enormous mistake, which she had vowed never to repeat, but she didn't have the nerve to tell her best friend the truth. Instead Jemma threw a damp florist's sponge at her. 'Go to lunch!'

  She watched a laughing Liz duck out of the door and sighed, flicking through the order book without actually reading it. She had already met and married her soul mate, and then she had lost him.

  It had all started when Jemma had begun to spend most of her free time with Aunt Mary, after the death of her mother. Her father had sold the family home with its large garden and bought an impressive townhouse for his new wife. But Jemma loved gardening, and her aunt had allowed her a free hand in her garden. As a lecturer at Imperial College London, her Aunt Mary and her work as a botanist had fascinated Jemma, but her aunt's young research assistant, Alan Barnes, had fascinated her more. She'd developed an enormous crush on him, and he had become her best friend and confidante.

  Later, when she'd left school at eighteen, she'd known she didn't have the academic brain to follow in her aunt's footsteps. But what she did have was an artistic flair with plants, and she had enrolled on a two-year course in floristry at a local college—which was where she'd met Liz. Jemma's relationship with Alan had grown into a deep, abiding love, and it had been with his encouragement that Jemma and Liz had opened their shop together. Life had been great, and it had only got better when, at the age of twenty-two, Jemma had married Alan Barnes in a fairytale wedding.

  Tragically, they had only been married for a brief four years when Alan had been killed in a gliding accident—a sport both he and Jemma had enjoyed. She still felt guilty that she had not been with him on the fatal day; instead she had stayed in London to complete a large order to decorate the old Assembly Rooms for a charity gala that evening.

  Thinking about Alan now still squeezed her heart with sadness, but, thanks to Liz's unfailing support over the past two years, she had at least got over crying at the thought of him and could now face the world, as content as she would ever be.

  The wind chimes over the door rang, and Jemma glanced up as a customer walked in. She banished her memories to the back of her mind and smiled. 'Can I help you?'

  Luke glanced down at the elegant blonde who had attached herself to his arm the moment the maid had shown him and Theo into the drawing room of the large Georgian mansion in Connaught Square that was the Sutherland home. 'Happy birthday, Jan.' He had given her a present last night: nothing too personal—a Prada handbag. 'And my grandfather I think you know—'

  She didn't let him finish. 'Oh, yes, I know. How terrible…' She flashed a smile in Theo's direction. 'I was so sorry to hear you'd hurt your ankle. But I can't deny I was delighted Luke came to dinner in your place.' Then, turning her eyes up to Luke, she gushed, 'It was fate we met again. Isn't that right, darling?' And she tilted her head back for his kiss.

  'Probably,' Luke murmured, smiling down at his companion. Jan was a sophisticated lady who knew the score; he had met her type a thousand times and it was no hardship to dip his head and brush his lips briefly against her scarlet mouth. Though it did surprise him that Theo found her attractive; he wouldn't have thought a six-foot-tall, rake-thin model would be his grandfather's type at all.

  The noise hit Jemma first as she descended the staircase. She cast a professional eye over the flower display on the hall table and, satisfied, reluctantly turned towards the source of the noise. She had very rarely attended large parties since Alan's death, but this was one she could not avoid.

  Straightening her shoulders, she walked into the crowded drawing room and glanced around, her gaze alighting on the birthday girl. Jan was gazing up at a man who had his back to Jemma. Her perfectly made-up face was lifted to his, anticipating a kiss, and he duly obliged. Well over six foot tall, with broad shoulders and black hair, he looked impressive even from the back—and he was a perfect foil for Jan's model height and sleek blonde hair.

  They made a striking couple, Jemma thought idly, and let her gaze drift away—only to suddenly focus on an old man standing on his own and watching the embracing couple. He was leaning heavily on a silver-topped cane and had an expression of total bewilderment on his weathered face—a face she instantly recognised. He looked as out of place as Jemma felt, and swiftly she moved towards him.

  'Mr Devetzi.' She smiled at her saviour from the board meeting. 'It's lovely to see you again.' She offered her hand and he gratefully grasped it.

  'It is my privilege,' he replied, and with old-world courtesy raised her hand and kissed it. 'Please call me Theo.'

  'Theo it is, you old charmer.' Jemma laughed.

  Luke felt Theo tug frantically on the sleeve of his jacket at exactly the same moment as he recognised the soft feminine voice. He turned slowly and saw the woman holding his grandfather's hand and smiling into his eyes, flirting with him… He tensed, every muscle in his body locking in shock and outrage. He knew her in the most intimate way possible; she had haunted his dreams for the past year, and he despised her for her lack of morals even as his body still ached for her. But, before he could formulate a suitably cutting greeting, Jan's grip on his other arm tightened and she spoke to the woman.

  'Jemma, darling, meet Luke—the wonderful man I was telling you about.'

  Luke heard Jan's voice, but only registered the name. Jemma. So what had happened to Mimie? he thought cynically. Obviously it was a pseudonym she used when cheating on her husband! But, however unfaithful she was, it didn't alter the fact that she looked even more incredible than he remembered.

  The first and only time he had seen her until this party had been a year ago, when he and a group of his friends had taken a cruise around the Greek islands in his yacht for a couple of weeks—something he did every summer. It had been the birthday of one of the female guests, and they had partied on board and then gone ashore to the island of Zante to eat.

  It had been when he'd slipped out of the restaurant full of tourists to stroll along the harbour and clear his head a little from the smoke and noise that he had noticed her. She had been sitting at a table outside a local harbour bar, sipping a glass of red wine, and she'd looked as if she had just stepped out of a Rossetti painting. She'd worn no make-up, yet she'd been stunningly beautiful. Her face was fine-boned, with high cheekbones and a short, straight nose over a perfectly formed mouth; her lips were full and a natural pink. Her hair was tucked behind her delicate ears to fall long and straight down her back, and was a rich chestnut gilded wit
h reds and golds that reminded him of the changing leaves in autumn.

  As he had watched a couple of locals had walked from the bar and bumped into her table, sending her glass and a half-empty carafe of red wine all over her. She had leapt to her feet, and Luke had leapt to her rescue.

  She had willingly accepted his offer to accompany him to his yacht to clean the stains from the brief white top and shorts she'd worn. The sex that had followed was the best he had ever had, and a certain part of his anatomy rose instantly along with his anger as he recalled what had happened afterwards. Avoiding his gaze, she had jumped off the bed and said she needed the bathroom. Picking up her clothes and purse, she had dashed into the shower room.

  When she had returned from the bathroom, fully dressed, she'd been pushing a ring onto her wedding finger. Luke had rolled off the bed, reluctant to accept the evidence of his own eyes. 'You're engaged,' he'd said.

  And had been met with, 'No, married. And this was a huge mistake.'

  Luke had dated dozens of women, and slept with quite a few, but he never, ever got involved with married women. Furious with himself as much as her, he had said scathingly, 'Not on my part, honey. You were hot, but you'd better trot along now. My guests will be back any minute, and I'd rather they didn't see you—especially one woman in particular.'

  She had looked at him, her eyes widening in horror as she'd realised what he had implied. Then she'd spun on her heel and left without a word, leaving him standing there naked, furious and disgusted with them both. He hadn't had a one-night stand since he was a teenager, and had made it a rule to date a woman at least three times before going any further. But that night he had broken his own rule—and with a married woman too…

  Looking at her now, she appeared so composed, so elegant, it was hard to believe she was the passionate woman who had shared his bed. Her long hair was swept up in an intricate twist on top of her head, revealing the perfection of her features and the swan-like curve of her neck. It was enhanced by the platinum chain she wore, from which a finely tooled locket with a diamond set in the centre was suspended.

  She was wearing a simple but superbly designed black dress, with minimal sleeves and a low square neckline that revealed the creamy curve of her high, firm breasts. The fabric was fine and faithfully followed the line of her shapely body and the gentle swell of her hips to end an inch or so above her knees. As for her legs, they were fabulous—their length accentuated by the high-heeled sandals that revealed pink toenails. She was utter perfection from head to toe, and a vivid mental image of her naked body beneath him, her long legs locked around his waist, made Luke catch his breath. For the first time in his life he was jealous of his grandfather. He wanted to be the focus of her laughs, her gorgeous smile…

  No, he didn't—she was married. Luke reminded himself forcibly.

  Jemma had heard the name Luke but thought nothing of it. She smiled at Jan and glanced politely at the man at her side. Then her eyes widened in horror, the blood drained from her face, and swiftly she lowered her gaze, her heart pounding in her breast. Jan's Luke stood head and shoulders above the crowd, immaculately dressed in a black dinner suit, and with his dark good looks he exuded an aura of arrogant assurance coupled with virile masculinity that was almost impossible to ignore. But ignore him she did.

  Jemma couldn't believe it—the one mistake in her whole life was standing a foot away from her! She hadn't even known his full name, and yet she had slept with him. No, there had been no sleep involved at all. They'd had sex, illicit sex, nothing more. She'd hated herself and despised him even more, as he'd obviously been unfaithful to the girlfriend staying with him on his yacht at the time.

  Her stomach churning, and with a terrific effort of will, Jemma murmured, 'How nice to meet you.' With barely a glance at Luke, she turned back to concentrate her attention on Theo.

  CHAPTER TWO

  It was a completely new experience for Luke Devetzi, and not one he appreciated. Amber eyes had flicked coolly in his direction and then returned to Theo, and he didn't like it at all… While not thrilled to acknowledge the lovely Jemma with Jan hanging on his arm, he was not prepared to let the promiscuous little vixen get away with ignoring him.

  'Hello…Jemma, is it?' Luke murmured provocatively.

  She glanced back at him, her amber eyes shielded by the ridiculous length of her dark lashes. 'Yes. Hello.' And as quickly she looked away again.

  'As we have not been formally introduced, allow me. Luke Devetzi.'

  He was determined to make her aware of him, and deliberately he reached out a hand towards her. A frozen glance from the golden eyes, and a small hand was offered. He grasped it, feeling the softness of her skin against his palm, and was aware of an immediate stirring in his loins. He had never been so instantly aroused by a woman since the last time he had met Jemma—no, Mimie—or whatever the hell she called herself! He looked down at their clasped hands almost in shock, and then he saw the wedding ring and remembered just in time. He did not mess with married women—except this particular sexy siren hadn't told him she was married until after he had taken her to bed.

  Cold with shock, Jemma heard the seductive tone of his voice, noted the masculine challenge in his gaze and caught the knowing gleam of sensuality in his grey eyes. Appalled, she quickly extricated her hand from his grasp.

  'Jemma Barnes,' she muttered.

  Almost on cue, Jan cut in. 'Will you do me a favour, Jemma, and take care of Luke's grandfather? He had an accident a few days ago and can't walk very well,' she said with her usual insensitivity. 'We need to circulate, and David wants to discuss business with Luke later.'

  Insensitive or not, Jemma could have kissed Jan for the interruption. 'No problem. It will be my pleasure.' Jan grasped Luke's arm and the couple began moving away through the crowd. Jemma heaved a shaky sigh of relief, but inside she was trembling. Talk about worst nightmares! Luke Devetzi was up there at the very top of her list.

  She was amazed he was related to Theo, for he was small and stocky, with dark eyes, whereas Luke had to be six foot four, and his eyes were light grey, a stark contrast to his olive-skinned complexion. His eyes were the first thing she had noticed about him a year ago, when they'd met, and they were one of the reasons she had acted so completely out of character.

  That he should turn up here in her father's house, as her stepsister's boyfriend, had to be the worst coincidence ever. She felt sick to her stomach and wanted to leave. She turned back to Theo, about to make some excuse, and saw he was still staring after Jan. The expression on his face was one of utter amazement. Jemma knew exactly how he felt—only she was sure it wasn't for the same reason! 'Jan is very beautiful, and she does tend to have a surprising effect on men, but I think your grandson can handle her,' she offered reassuringly. 'And they do make a nice couple.'

  He made some unintelligible comment and, raising a hand to his mouth, began to cough violently.

  Leaving wasn't an option just yet—the man was obviously in difficulty. 'You're not well, Theo. I think you and I should find somewhere comfortable to sit and I'll get you a glass of champagne,' Jemma suggested, taking his arm. 'Then you can tell me all about your accident—and what I voted for last Friday,' she joked weakly.

  'Certainly.' He smiled back a little shakily. 'But first can you tell me who that woman with my grandson is?' Theo gestured with his silver-topped cane in their direction.

  'That's my stepsister—Jan,' Jemma told him as she finally spied a vacant sofa and led him towards the far corner of the elegant drawing room. She felt him stumble. 'Are you all right?' she asked anxiously, and helped him sit down. 'You look a little pale.' She studied his lined face with worried eyes.

  'Your stepsister, you say? I didn't know you had a sister.'

  'Well, you hardly know me.' Jemma laughed.

  'I think I need that drink.' Theo Devetzi rasped as he settled down on the sofa, and then muttered something in Greek that to Jemma sounded suspiciously like a curse.

&nb
sp; 'If you'll wait here. I'll go and get you a brandy. It will do you more good than champagne,' Jemma offered. The man was obviously still in some pain, she thought compassionately.

  Meanwhile, Luke had placed a hand on Jan's back and escorted her through the crowd. He smiled, and continued to smile in all the right places, while Jan accepted effusive birthday congratulations from her friends and they made their way towards her mother and father at the far end of the room. Luke could act the perfect consort without a thought, and his thoughts were centred on the lovely Jemma.

  He glanced around the room, wondering which man was her husband. He was a lucky man—or maybe not so lucky, Luke thought cynically. There had been no mistaking the sexual chemistry, the wild passion between Jemma and himself. Her poor husband was more to be pitied than envied, he concluded.

  But it was time he concentrated on Jan and did what he was here to do—help his grandfather. He glanced around the room and spotted Theo, safely seated, and briefly their eyes met. For a second Luke thought he saw panic in his grandfather's gaze, but as he watched Jemma approached and handed Theo a brandy, and the old man was all smiles.

  Jemma handed the brandy glass to Theo. 'You're sure you're okay?' she queried, sitting down beside him and taking a good swallow from her own glass of champagne. She wasn't normally a drinker, but dear heaven she needed something to steady her nerves and her stomach…

  'Much better,' Theo reassured her, and took a sip of brandy. 'Your sister Jan seems to know Luke well. Have you ever met him before?' he asked casually.

  'No.' Jemma gritted her teeth and lied. She had no intention of letting this sweet old man know what had happened between her and Luke a year ago. 'But Jan has known him for years, I believe,' she answered. Poor Theo started coughing again. 'You sound as if you have caught a cold; are you sure you should be out so soon after your accident?'