Page 11 of Reclaimed By His Billion-Dollar Ring

It was the only hope she could cling to.

CHAPTER THREE

NIKOS CLIMBED INTO the hotel limo that was collecting him from the Petranakos mansion, his mood excellent for several reasons. Firstly, because he’d gained useful information about the politicians he was going to be dealing with here. And secondly, his host had more than once mentioned his latest birthday—a milestone that might make a man think seriously about stepping back from business, slowing the pace. Consider passing the burden on to young shoulders...

The words had been accompanied by a narrowed look directed at his guest. An assessing look... A speculative one...

Nikos might have made nothing of it, or little enough, except for the reaction of the other person present at the lunch. From his place at the foot of the table Nikos had heard Calanthe’s knife and fork clatter to the plate. And then what surely had been an intake of breath that had been stifled as soon as it had been drawn.

Which could only mean...

The expression in his dark eyes was speculative...

Yes, precisely what could that mean?

Well, that was speculation and inward reflection for another time. For now it was time to focus on the third and most satisfying reason for his good mood.

Encountering Calanthe once more was proving as fortuitous as it had eight years ago. Seeing her again had brought that time vividly to his mind again. Eight years ago she had crossed his path and shared with him delights that had been memorable in his youth. Memorable, indeed...

His expression flickered.

It had been a golden summer in the weeks he’d spent with her at the excavation. A ‘golden treasure’ he had called her—and so she had proved.

Something changed in his eyes...hardened. Then he frowned. That was not why he’d called her his golden treasure. That had been because she herself had been such a find!

I discovered her when I had no thought of doing so—no thought of anything that summer but hard work and putting aside money for my tuition fees.

Then Calanthe—lovely, ardent and so, so giving—had appeared in his life and he had not been able to resist her...

Nor she him.

Once he had won her over she had given herself unstintingly and he had reciprocated—treasuring the gift she had given him, celebrating, with her, the transition from maiden to woman as she had trusted him to be her first lover.

His expression shadowed suddenly.

She trusted me with her body but with nothing else. Not with who she really was...

He pushed the thought aside. Not wanting to think about why she had proved such a golden treasure.

That didn’t matter—not any more. All that mattered was how they had been together, he and Calanthe, that summer long ago, in each other’s arms, passionate and carefree.

His expression changed again, became a frown again, but with a different cause. He was questioning himself.

Just what had been so good about those weeks with her before they had come to the end? Once she had stopped holding him at bay, accepted what was happening between them, she’d relaxed with him completely—and he with her. He’d singled her out, sitting beside her at the taverna in the evenings, interesting himself in her part of the dig. Interesting himself in her completely.

Her ready laugh, her warmth... I could not keep my eyes from her, and nor could she keep hers from me.

The other students had accepted what was happening—had treated them as a couple.

And that is what we became.

He’d revelled in the ardour of her lovemaking, the glow in her eyes. He had dedicated his time to her, had eyes for no other woman but her...

Reminiscence filled him and a frown plucked at his brows. Eight years had passed since he’d last seen her, but had there ever been anyone like her in his life? Women had always come easily to him, even when he was a penniless student. Now... His expression grew cynical. Now, of course, he thought caustically, he could have just about any woman he cast his eyes at. Except—

The frown deepened. Still he was questioning himself. There had been other attractive girls on that dig, but none had existed for him except for Calanthe. He tried to call up the images of any of the women he’d consorted with from time to time in his non-stop climb to fortune but none came to mind. Not any more—not since he’d seen Calanthe again.

In only a few days, out of nowhere, having never expected to see her again, he found she had totally imprinted herself on his consciousness.

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