Home > Kidnapped by the Greek Billionaire(12)

Kidnapped by the Greek Billionaire(12)
Author: Rachel Lyndhurst

Kizzy bit down on the inside of her bottom lip with fury. There was a flaw in his argument somewhere. What wasn’t he telling her?

“So you’re a pretty successful businessman then?” she ventured.

“You could say that,” he replied with a soft smile.

“Made pots of money?”

Andreas laughed at her line of questioning. “Yes.”

“So why on earth would you want to buy a wreck of a restaurant in a rough part of Portsmouth and, presumably, make a loss on the deal? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Things aren’t always as simple as they seem.”

“Discovered oil under the foundations, have you?” she queried. “Or a seam of pure gold?”

He studied her for a moment, his chin propped up by his fingertips. “You have a vivid imagination.”

“And you haven’t answered my questions.”

“I’m not going to. I answer to no one for my actions.”

Kizzy responded with a defiant jerk of her chin.

“Now,” he continued in a gentler tone and fished her cell phone out of his trouser pocket. “There must be someone you need to call.”

“No.” Kizzy pressed her lips together as if the words had stung. “No one.”

“No one?

“Well, that’s not strictly true. I should ring the rest of the team at Timi’s. I know they’re all casual staff but they’re great people and I’d hate them to think that I’d abandoned them when they find the place all locked up in the morning.”

“That’s already been seen to.”

“What do you mean, seen to?”

“Checks were hand-delivered to them this morning and they all signed a binding severance agreement. A most generous one, you’ll be pleased to learn. There were no complaints.”

“I see.”

“So, how about your parents?”

“Gone.” Kizzy straightened her back awkwardly and looked into her glass to avoid his gaze. “Both dead. My mother died five months ago—hepatitis.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied gently. “Siblings?”

“No.”

“Another relative? A friend, perhaps?”

“Both sets of blood relatives disowned us twenty-five years ago when I was a baby.” Her smile was feigned. “And my stepfamily kicked us out the moment my stepfather’s will had been read. I’ll be quite happy never to see or hear from them again. As for my friends, they have enough problems of their own without adding mine to them. As you so eloquently pointed out in London, times are hard for everyone. Besides, I’m used to fending for myself.”

She put down her glass with a snap. “The only people I want to call are the Antonideses. But you won’t let me do that. You don’t trust me not to hurt the only people in the world who mean anything to me, the only ones who care whether I’m alive or dead.”

Andreas felt his heart rate pick up and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end in response to her anger.

“Then go ahead,” he murmured, raising his cool, unemotional guard to full alert. He slid the phone toward her across the table. “But I’d like to know what you’re going to say. We’ve been through all this before, I can’t risk you ruining everything.” He ripped a hand through the dark layers of his hair. “I’m not a monster, Kizzy. Can’t you see that?”

She was mesmerized by his earnest, exasperated expression. For just a moment she almost fell under his spell. Then she realized who she was speaking to, and jerkily stood up.

“You scared away a destitute child, Mr. Lazarides. A child begging for help. I can’t get the image of him out of my head, running for his life. How am I supposed to feel about a man as rich as you doing such a heartless thing?”

Andreas rose abruptly from his seat and took two strides around the table so they were face to face. “You speak Greek?” he asked furiously, his accent more pronounced as his voice rose.

“You know I don’t,” Kizzy replied.

“Then you cannot possibly comment upon what passed between me and the child.”

“So enlighten me.” Kizzy drew herself up, her chin still tipped determinedly back to meet his stare.

“I was sending him away before he landed himself in real trouble,” Andreas replied through gritted teeth.

“Where were you sending him? To an even darker corner of hell?”

“No.” Andreas shook his head gravely. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Toward the Light of Hope.”

He reached out a tanned hand and cupped her chin firmly, forcing her to meet the intensity burning in his eyes. “It’s a low-key charity run by Orthodox brothers in the back streets. They feed, clothe and comfort anyone they find in desperate need or who is referred by a trusted patron. Unfortunately, it has had to be kept clandestine to deter freeloaders who would abuse their mission. I gave that boy my name and sent him to Carlo’s ice cream parlor. He will have been fed immediately and by now should be tucked up in a clean, warm bed.”

Kizzy stared at him, shocked. “I don’t know what to say.”

“An apology would be gratefully received.” He allowed his hand to fall, still registering the soft, warm, silken feel of her skin against his.

“I’m so sorry.” Kizzy’s voice cracked with mortification. “I said some unforgivable things. But I was angry.”

“You wished me dead, I imagine,” he agreed. “I can’t blame you, it’s that level of feeling that got me involved with the brothers in the first place. Anger can be a good thing when it’s channeled correctly.”

Kizzy nodded and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Angry is all I ever seem to be these days. Apart from tired, of course.”

“Then we must change that.” Andreas glanced once again into the deep violet of her eyes. “There’s no reason this can’t be a new beginning for you too. If there’s no one at home, no family, no significant other…”

Kizzy felt the breath catch in her lungs as he lowered his head to bring his mouth against hers, gentle and explorative at first. Her lips parted helplessly to welcome him and she felt herself melt into the tough warmth of his body. She should stop this, she thought hazily, even as their kiss deepened in intensity.

His warm hand sliding effortlessly under her camisole, Andreas stroked the soft flesh there with a light, skillful touch.

His body was hard and burning against hers and—and she should stop.

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