Page 1 of The Billionaire's Demand

Greek’s Temporary Cinderella

Julia James

“I want you to come back to me,” Leandros said.

Eliana heard his words, but they did not register. It was impossible that they should do so. Her expression, veiled as it was, froze.

“I am quite serious,” he said. His eyes were on her, like weights. A weight she could not bear.

“You can’t possibly be,” she heard herself say, her voice faint, hardly audible.

A new expression crossed his face. Cynical. She could see it in the slight twist to his mouth, the acid look in his eyes. Eyes so dark, so drowning...

“And yet I am,” he returned.

He reached for his wineglass, took a hefty slug, then resumed his regard of her.

“Don’t get ideas, however,” he said. His voice had the same acidity as his eyes. “I want something a lot, lot more limited.”

For HB

CHAPTER ONE

LEANDROS KASTELLANOS NODDED at familiar faces, exchanging civil pleasantries as he made away across the crowded function room at this top Athens hotel, popular with those wanting to throw a lavish party, as was the case tonight. All around, Athens high society was mingling and enjoying itself, the men all in tuxes, as was he himself, and the women all in evening gowns, glittering with jewels.

He was here only because he’d returned unexpectedly early from a business trip to New York, and out of civility to his hosts, the parents of the newly engaged couple whose betrothal party this was.

His expression tightened. He wished the couple well—but not all engagements led to a happy-ever-after marriage...

He should know...

No! He pulled his thoughts back sharply. No point remembering his own disastrous engagement. It had been six long years ago—in the past. A past he had no interest in revisiting. He was no longer the fool he’d been at twenty-six, swept away on a tide of romance. Blinding himself to the true nature of the woman he had fallen so hard for.

Until he’d seen her true nature for himself—had his face slammed into it.

It wasn’t me she loved—it was the Kastellanos money. And if that wasn’t going to be coming her way—well, she was off. Dumping me faster than you could say—as his father had spelt out to her—disinherited.

The realisation had been brutal.

My faithless fiancée.

Bitterness filled him. So much for love.

Hadn’t his father warned him? And been proved right?

Now, though, the Kastellanos millions were all his anyway. His father’s untimely death three years ago had left him one of the richest men in Greece—and the most eligible. But marriage was not on his agenda; he stuck to the kind of passing liaisons in which he had indulged in his youth—before he had been beguiled by the oh-so-deceptive and deceiving ingénue beauty of the woman who had proved so faithless.

The function room opened on to a spacious roof terrace, set up for dancing later on. On impulse, he stepped out, wanting to clear his unwelcome thoughts, his toxic memories. The ever-present illuminated Parthenon was visible atop the distant Acropolis and the festoons of hanging lamps around the dance floor cast a soft glow.

The scent of flowers from all the lavishly filled planters at the perimeter of the terrace caught at him.

And one more thing caught at him.

On the far side of the terrace, half in shadow, against the dark foliage, was the pale, slender outline of a woman.

For a second—an instant—time ceased. Then it crashed and crushed him.

Eliana saw him. Saw him step through onto the deserted terrace.

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