Bought by the Greek Tycoon Page 3

  'No, really, I'm fine,' Theo insisted, and then changed the subject by explaining to her what she had voted for at the board meeting—apparently she had agreed to another stock flotation to raise money.

  'It doesn't make much difference to me.' Jemma said lightly. 'I'm mildly dyslexic with numbers, and what I know about high finance wouldn't cover my little fingernail. But I wouldn't say no to the money.' Draining her glass, she put it down on a convenient table, as did Theo.

  'Well, there's a simple answer to that.' Theo took his opportunity swiftly. 'You could sell me your aunt's villa on Zante. It used to be my family home years ago, you know. Call me sentimental, but I'd rather like it back. I'm willing to give you well above the market value for it if you agree.'

  'It's a nice thought, and I really would if I could, but I can't sell it to you.' Jemma saw Theo's puzzlement and explained. 'Aunt Mary left it in trust for me, and for my children, and for my children's children, ad infinitum—all tied up legally.'

  'I see.' The old man's dark eyes narrowed thoughtfully. 'Have you ever considered applying to have the trust broken? I believe it is possible.'

  'Maybe some day.' When she was too old to have children, she thought. 'But it's not something I would contemplate at the moment…' Plus, she owed it to her Aunt Mary to follow her wishes, she thought with a tinge of sadness, but she saw no reason to tell Theo the whole story.

  'Of course that is entirely your prerogative.' Theo said quietly, and raised his hands palms up in a gesture of defeat. 'No matter. I have lived long enough to know that one never gets everything one wants in life.' Suddenly he smiled and glanced across the room. 'Not that my grandson is often thwarted. Now, tell me honestly, what do you think of Luke?'

  He is a sexual predator, skilled in the art of seduction, and he preys on the weakness of women, Jemma thought, but didn't say it. 'He seems…nice.' She lied through her teeth again. 'And I know Jan thinks very highly of him.'

  At the other side of the room Luke appeared to concentrate his attention on the Sutherlands, while in his mind he ran through the report he had read this morning. His London office had done some checking over the past two days—David Sutherland was a man in trouble and trying not to show it, he thought cynically. But, smiling down at the man and his wife, he exchanged a polite greeting with the couple.

  Luke already had a pretty good idea what Sutherland wanted from him. He had hinted as much on Wednesday evening once he'd realised Luke was the owner of Devetzi International. Sutherland wanted him to invest in Vanity Flair, or at the very least recommend it as a buy to his clients, in order to boost the share price and thus help Sutherland's much-vaunted expansion plans. Luke had no intention of doing either, but he had to play it cagey for the moment.

  On the two occasions he had taken Jan out this week he had refrained from mentioning her inheritance to her. He had kept their relationship on a light, flirtatious level. But she had a great ability to talk about herself, and the model agency she had recently set up, which tied in with what Theo had said about her now owning her own business.

  Reminded of Theo, he glanced around the room and spotted him, still sitting on the sofa, the faithless Jemma Barnes beside him. But as Luke watched the old man turned slightly, his dark eyes clashing with Luke's, and with a somewhat frantic wave of his cane he beckoned him over. What had happened now?

  'Excuse me,' Luke said abruptly. 'But my grandfather appears to need me.' And with a brief apologetic smile at Jan and her parents he moved quickly through the crowd to Theo's side.

  He was met by a torrent of Greek. The gist of it being that Luke was the biggest idiot in Christendom. What was he doing hanging on to the blonde beanpole? There were two daughters and he was dating the wrong one—the stepdaughter. Was he mad? Jemma was the one he should have been dating, and now—short of a miracle—he had blown Theo's chances of ever getting his home back.

  Stunned by the news, Luke glanced at Jemma and back to Theo, feeling like a prize idiot. Then anger took over and he shot back in Greek. How the hell was he supposed to know there were two daughters when Theo had not even known and it had been Theo himself who'd told Luke the woman's name was Jan?

  Luke's grey eyes narrowed angrily on the downbent head of the lady in question…he wasn't surprised she couldn't face him—then he glared at his grandfather. He must have been mad to let himself get involved with Theo's crazy idea in the first place. Now he'd have to extricate himself from a relationship with Jan he'd never had any enthusiasm for in the first place. And it wouldn't be easy. He began to tell Theo so in no uncertain terms.

  Jemma could tell the two men were arguing, and, much as she hated the idea of facing Luke, her compassion for poor Theo overcame her fear. Rising to her feet, she cut into the tirade of Greek in a cool, well-modulated voice. 'Excuse me, Mr Devetzi, your grandfather is not very well, and shouting at him will certainly not help.'

  Jemma was telling him off! Luke was struck dumb at the nerve of the woman.

  'He's had an accident, in case you've forgotten, and he should really be at home resting.'

  'I was not shouting.' Luke finally found his voice. 'We Greeks are as passionate in conversation as we are in everything,' he said pointedly, none too subtly reminding her of the passion they had shared. 'And I know very well what Theo needs.' He shot a lethal glance at Theo to see the man was smiling; he was enjoying this, damn him! Luke was determined Theo wasn't going to make him the villain of the evening, and neither was he taking any cheek from a married woman who quite happily slept around, he thought furiously. No matter how gorgeous she was.

  'I tried to make him stay at home, but he insisted on coming to the party because he wanted to meet you again, Jemma,' Luke said. 'Apparently you made quite an impression on him at the board meeting, because he hasn't stopped talking about you. He told me you were in business, but he omitted to mention you had a partner…' He paused and deliberately looked down at her ring finger before adding, 'But then his English is not so good.' Luke offered a withering glance to his grandfather, as the old man had obviously still not realised the woman was married. 'Is your husband here? I would quite like to meet him,' he asked pointedly, his steel-grey gaze roaming insultingly over her. His question was to inform Theo of his basic mistake, but also to act as a barbed reminder to the sexy Jemma that there had been no mention of a husband while Luke had been making love to her…

  Jemma could do nothing about the sudden colour that surged in her cheeks at his blatant male scrutiny and his sly dig at her married state. But, having suffered constantly as a child at the hands of her peer group because of her slight dyslexia, she wasn't prepared to stand by and let the arrogant Luke belittle his grandfather's use of the English language.

  She cast Theo a sympathetic glance. There's nothing wrong with your English. I can understand you perfectly,' she assured him, before lifting her head to glare up at the man towering over her. 'And you should know better than to demean your grandfather's abilities in front of others,' Jemma said tautly, her glittering golden eyes clashing angrily with grey. It was as if they were the only two in the room, the tension between them a palpable force. 'And maybe if you learned to listen to your grandfather properly you wouldn't need to do it. As it happens I do have a partner, my best friend Liz, though I actually never told Theo I had a partner when we first met.' Implying Luke was a liar. 'And as for my husband, he died some time ago now. Are you satisfied?'

  For the second time in as many minutes Luke was stunned into silence as he thought of the opportunity he might have had with her if Theo had got his facts right. The beautiful Jemma was free and single again… He didn't really care when her husband had died; it was enough to know she was available now—except for the minor complication that he was currently dating her stepsister… Damage limitation was called for—and fast!

  Straightening his shoulders, he caught the flicker of sadness in her huge amber eyes that she could not quite disguise and he felt like a heel.

  'I'm so sorry
, Jemma. I never meant to offend you or Theo. May I offer my deepest sympathy at the loss of your husband?'

  'Thank you,' Jemma responded curtly, finally tearing her gaze away from his, and not believing him for a second. She was too shocked to say anything more. Luke Devetzi had angered her so much that she had blurted out in public that Alan was dead—something she had rarely had the strength to do before—and it scared her.

  'Forgive my grandson for being so crass. I know exactly how you feel,' Theo cut in, and she was grateful for the old man's intervention. 'I have also lost my wife, but let me assure you it does get easier.' After giving her a sympathetic smile he looked back at his grandson. 'But Jemma is right, Luke, perhaps I was a bit hasty in coming out tonight.' Suddenly rising to his feet, with more agility than Jemma would have thought him capable of, he grasped Luke's arm—just as Jan appeared.

  'Luke, darling, is everything all right?'

  Looking from Theo to Luke and back again, Jemma had the oddest feeling some silent communication had passed between them.

  Jan placed a proprietorial hand on Luke's shirtfront.

  'No, my grandfather isn't feeling too well, so I am going to take him straight home. Sorry we have to leave early, but it is necessary,' Luke said smoothly.

  'Oh, must you?' Jan pouted 'Surely you can stay, even if your grandfather has to leave? I'll call him a cab.'

  'No, I couldn't possibly allow him to go home alone.' Luke removed Jan's hand from his chest, his tone hard, and Jemma had a feeling that Jan had just made a big mistake with this man.

  'Oh, but you don't need to,' Jan gushed, and turned a pleading look on Jemma. 'Do Luke and I another favour and take Mr Devetzi home, please, Jemma? You know you don't really like parties and he'll be fine with you. Plus, Luke hasn't had the chance to properly speak to David yet.'

  Jemma almost laughed. Jan's barefaced cheek never failed to amaze her. She'd opened her mouth to make some non-committal answer when Theo intervened. 'No, thank you, Miss Sutherland. I wouldn't feel happy imposing on your sister in such a way. It's time I left.' And, taking Luke's arm, he apologised for dragging his grandson away. 'I am feeling rather weak.'

  Luke wasn't feeling so great himself. For a man who was always in control, it was galling to have to admit he had been completely blindsided by the evening's events. He wanted to talk to Jemma. Who was he kidding? He wanted to do a lot more than talk to her. But now wasn't the time or the place. She would keep, he decided, and the quicker he got away from this disastrous party the better.

  'Sony, ladies, but we have to leave,' Luke said. 'Give my apologies to your father and I'll call you later, Jan. No doubt I'll see you again, Jemma.'

  Not if I see you first, Jemma thought. Then, while Jan monopolised Luke's attention once more, she leant forward and kissed the old man's cheek. 'You take care, Theo.'

  'I will. You've been very kind to me, Jemma. And, disappointed as I am about the villa, I would like to repay your kindness by taking you out to lunch tomorrow, before I return to Greece.'

  'I can't tomorrow,' Jemma refused, glad she had a genuine excuse. She had already lied to Theo about not having met Luke before, and she'd rather not have to lie to him again. But as it happened she was lunching with Alan's parents in Eastbourne—something she did every month. 'I'm lunching with my parents-in-law tomorrow; although it's over two years since I lost my husband, we still keep in touch. So some other time, perhaps,' she said quietly.

  Much as she liked the old man, she wanted nothing whatsoever to do with his grandson, and the quicker the Devetzi males left, the better she would like it. Jemma heaved a shaky sigh of relief as she watched Theo follow Jan and Luke out into the hall.

  'Thanks a bunch,' Jan said sarcastically five minutes later, having returned from escorting the men out. 'You could have insisted on taking the old bloke home, and then Luke could have stayed longer.'

  'Maybe—you know Luke Devetzi better than I do,' Jemma said, shrugging. 'But he strikes me as a man who does what he wants, and gets what he wants—women included—and I doubt he would be the faithful type.' It was as near as Jemma felt she could go in warning Jan just what an inveterate womaniser Luke Devetzi was. 'I hope you know what you're getting into.' Jan was selfish, but harmless, and she would hate to see her get hurt.

  'That's the problem,' Jan said with her usual bluntness. 'I haven't succeeded in getting into him yet, and I'm dying of frustration. According to the magazines he's been dating Davina Lovejoy, that top New York designer. But he's in London now, and I'm here and she isn't, and surely Luke must be feeling the same. He's notorious for the number of women he's bedded, and for his prowess as a lover.'

  It was a lot more than Jemma needed to know, and she burst out laughing. If there was a touch of hysteria in the sound, Jan never noticed.

  Two hours later Jemma was back home in the small terraced house in Bayswater she had shared with Alan, curled up in bed.

  In his penthouse across town, Luke Devetzi studied Theo with some frustration. His grandfather had never said a word on the drive home. On arriving back at the apartment, Theo had poured them both a nightcap and simply said the villa was not for sale and he was no longer bothered. Now he was sitting on the sofa, his leg once more propped up on a footstool. His dark eyes lacked their usual sparkle, and the expression on his face was one of resigned acceptance.

  'Let me get this straight: after all the fuss you have made trying to buy the villa on Zante, now you're telling me you don't care any more?'

  'I do care. It's just that I have finally realised it's impossible,' Theo said quietly. 'Jemma explained to me tonight that she can't sell it because her aunt left it in trust for her and her children, and her children's children.'

  'Trusts can be broken,' Luke suggested. 'You don't have to give up yet.'

  'Maybe.' Theo sighed. 'But it can take years to wade through legal red tape, and even if I live long enough—well, you've met Jemma—can you honestly see a beautiful, compassionate woman like her being a widow for much longer? I can't. She is young, and her husband has been dead for over two years.'

  Luke sat down suddenly and almost choked on his whisky. So Jemma had not been married when he'd slept with her! 'Two years, you say? Are you sure?' he queried. He had made enough mistakes with Jemma, and he was determined to make no more. He could almost laugh at how wrong he'd been about her—except that it wasn't funny. His grandfather had lost his dream, and he had bedded and then insulted the sexiest woman he had ever met.

  'Yes, she told me tonight as we were leaving. She may not realise it yet, but she has done her mourning. Unless all English men are blind, some guy will snap her up and she will almost certainly be married and with child long before the trust can be broken. It's hopeless, and I am going to bed.' Picking up his stick, he rose to his feet and hobbled up the steps. Stopping at the top, he turned and said, 'Milo and I are going back to Greece in the morning. Goodnight.' And he left.

  Luke saw the defeated droop to Theo's shoulders as he left the room. He hated that his grandfather had been disappointed, but he had to admit the old man's assessment was right—getting the villa did look pretty hopeless now.

  He saw again in his mind's eye the beautiful Jemma, so calm and considerate with Theo, but so cool with him. His body hardened as he recalled her naked body in every minute detail—the silken softness of her skin, the sweet taste of her rose-tipped breasts, the almost dreamlike quality of their lovemaking which had grown into a white-hot, all-consuming passion.

  Restlessly he stood up again, about to pour another whisky. But he stopped. He didn't need a drink; he needed to think. Maybe if he approached Jemma personally and offered her an enormous amount of money to break the trust she would agree. With the exception of his grandmother, he had never met a woman yet who did not love money. And if plan A failed—though he doubted it would—he needed a plan B. He was thirty-seven, past the age most men married. Perhaps it was time to take the plunge and marry. And if by marrying Jemma and producing a child t
hat would also be Theo's great-grandchild to inherit the villa, then his grandfather would secure his heart's desire—to keep the villa in the family—and that was all the better. Plus, Luke wanted Jemma back in his bed—and he was a man who always got what he wanted.

  There was only one huge flaw in plan B. Jemma wouldn't give him the time of day because, apart from him virtually throwing her off his yacht a year ago, she knew he was dating her stepsister. Settling back down on the sofa, his broad brow creased in a frown, he replayed the events of the evening and the information he had gleaned in the last few days. His frown vanished and a predatory smile curved his sensuous mouth. His grey eyes were gleaming with the light of challenge as he rose to his feet and headed for bed. His mind was made up, his course of action determined.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Jemma parked her small estate car in a resident's parking space outside her own front door and, picking up her purse and a carrier bag full of garden vegetables from the passenger seat, got out of the car. Straightening up, she stretched her shoulders, her eyes sweeping over the small strip of front garden, which was a mass of colour in the June sun, and sighed contentedly. It had been a long drive to Eastbourne and back, but worth the travel.

  She had had a great day; she had helped Sid, her father-in-law, in the garden, and enjoyed a wonderful lunch prepared by his wife Mavis. Then all three of them had taken a walk on the beach, and finally visited Alan's grave. Afterwards they had returned to the house and had tea.

  Jemma, her stomach full and her spirit restored by the kindness of Alan's parents, had rationalised on the journey back to London the guilty memories that had kept her awake for hours the night before. Then she'd firmly pushed them back into the darkest corner of her mind, where they belonged.