Page 28 of Reclaimed By His Billion-Dollar Ring

Nerving herself, she went to join the party.

Nikos stood at the far end of the terrace, looking out over the darkened sea beyond. His mood was strange. He had accepted the invitation to this party for one reason only—because he knew, from Georgios Petranakos, that Calanthe had been invited too.

Georgios was being assiduous in letting him know his daughter’s social diary. Nikos’s eyes narrowed. He knew there was a reason for Georgios’s co-operation in his pursuit of Calanthe. Georgios hadn’t spelt it out—he hadn’t needed to—but Nikos had got the message. It was common knowledge that without a son—and given that Calanthe had no interest in her father’s business herself—Georgios Petranakos would be on the lookout for a son-in-law of sufficient calibre to take over the running of his property empire when his time was up.

And I may just make the grade.

There was an irony to that which was not lost on him. Eight years had changed his prospects radically. If Georgios Petranakos really was assessing him in the way he might be, it should reassure him—show him that this time his interest in Georgios’s daughter would not be opposed. Not if he carried it through to the conclusion that Georgios might just have in mind.

But do I have it in mind? Is it something I would consider?

He felt his thoughts move over the question. He had told Calanthe down on the beach now veiled in the darkness of the evening that she was important to him. But what had he meant by that? He did not know—not yet.

I need to make her mine again—need to claim her back. I need to hold her in my arms...to know...discover again...what she is to me.

He shifted restlessly, feeling his thoughts just as restless. Sightlessly, he gazed out over the darkened sea stretching to the horizon. There were no lights to steer by, only the stars above, and someone would have to know the constellations to navigate by them.

For him, it was his own future he was trying to reach—would it be Calanthe’s too?

His unease sharpened. What if the past had already blighted the future?

His hands tightened over the stone balustrade and he lifted his head. Determination fired in his eyes. He must steer his course by his own judgement. He had always done so and would not change now.

Taking a breath, he lifted his hands away and headed back along the terrace to where the bright lights of the party were beckoning him.

And where Calanthe awaited him.

Calanthe was surrounding herself with people all dressed up for the evening, the men in white dinner jackets, the women in silky evening gowns. Most of those she was with she already knew, so after greetings had been exchanged it meant she could get away with contributing little to the general conversation. She was sipping at champagne, but making a glass last a long time, then swapping it for sparkling mineral water.

Always she knew where Nikos was.

Right now he was on the far side of the pool, in another circle of people. To her relief he had made no attempt to talk to her, or even approach her. Nor did he move in on the people she was with. To her even greater relief he was clearly being targeted by a very determined woman, bejewelled to the nines, with bleached blonde hair, too much make-up, and a very clinging short dress.

Nikos was welcome to her.

Please let him content himself with whoever that is throwing herself at him! Please let me just get through enough of the evening to be able to retire without Marina coming to drag me out again! And please don’t let her think there is anything at all between me and Nikos Kavadis!

To aid herself in this plea Calanthe knew that she, too, must display some diversionary tactics. Provide a decoy. Yannis, as it happened, was not here—he was away in New York on business—but an even better decoy was on hand. Bastian.

Bastian was ideal. He was a long-time admirer but, since he was also one of Athens’ most assiduous playboys, his pursuit of her would be for one purpose only—another notch on his very well-notched bedpost. But he was also good-humoured and easy-going, and she knew all she had to do was let him know she was trying to avoid a particular man here and he would co-operate happily.

An hour later he was doing just that.

A lavish buffet was being served, and everyone was taking their places at the tables set out under colourful lights strung overhead.

A covert glance from Calanthe showed her that Nikos and the bleached blonde were at a table as far away from where she was as it was possible to be. Sitting herself down beside Bastian, finding their own table lively in the extreme, she finally started to relax. Helped, she knew, by the second glass of champagne Bastian had presented her with.

‘Drink up, my sweet,’ he murmured shamelessly in her ear. ‘Then I might finally stand a chance with you this evening...’

She pushed him away good-humouredly and took another sip of her champagne, feeling the net of unbearable tension easing from her. She would get through supper, dance a couple of times with Bastian, and then escape. Plead a headache...whatever... It didn’t matter. And tomorrow she would head back to Athens.

All she had to do was get through the rest of the evening.

As for Nikos—

She cut off her thoughts. Banned them from her head. She laughed, instead, at something one of her friends at the table had just said, taking more sips of champagne in between mouthfuls of the delicious gourmet buffet Marina’s chef had provided.

I can do this. I can do it because I must. Just as, when I’m back in Athens, I can keep doing it. If Nikos tries to contact me again I will simply stonewall him. I will have nothing more to do with him. Nothing. Not tonight...not in Athens. Not ever.

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