Page 4 of The Billionaire's Demand

As for seeing Leandros again, feeling his scorn, his contempt for her as stinging as it had been six years ago, she must just put it behind her. She did not live in Athens. She would not see him again. Tomorrow she would be heading back to Thessaloniki, the city she’d lived in since her marriage. Back to the life she now led—had to lead—leaving Athens far behind as she had done before, when she had ruined her own life.

And broken her own heart.

Leandros stood out on the terrace of his house in the wealthy Athens suburb of Psychiko, a whisky in his hand, his mood as dark as the night around him. He had left that benighted party as soon as he decently could, wanting only to put it behind him—to wipe the image of the one woman he wished to perdition from his mind.

But she would not go. She was still there, imprinted balefully on his retinas in all the beauty that had once so captivated him. And he saw her here, too—as if she were with him out on the terrace, gazing up at him with those wide-set eyes. And in them was all that he poured down into hers.

He’d kissed her here, on this very terrace, her lips like velvet beneath his, her heart beating like a wild bird as he held her in his arms.

She’d been like no other woman he’d ever found. Till then he’d enjoyed all the privileges of his family wealth and his own good looks, knowing that any female he smiled on would be only too keen to get his interest.

But Eliana was shy—hesitant. Even though her beauty was a loveliness that stopped me in my tracks.

For the first time in his life he’d fallen in love. Determined to win her—overcoming her shyness, the hesitancy born of the sheltered upbringing she’d had—he’d wanted to see in her beautiful blue-grey eyes fringed with smoky lashes all that he himself felt for her. And when he’d asked her to marry him he had seen just that. She had given a little cry and come into his arms, as if she had belonged there all her life—as if she would never leave him.

But leave me she did.

She had walked out on him—gone to another man. Married him instead.

And it was his father who had told him why—who had warned him from the start.

‘Her father’s financial affairs are seriously shaky. Rumours are flying all over town that he has debts he cannot pay. If he goes under, she’ll want a rich husband instead.’

The words stabbed at his head now—and yet he had disbelieved them, right up until the moment when Eliana had slid his ring from his finger. Then, with a bitterness that had been like a knife in his throat, he’d realised his father’s warning had been right.

Just as he was right to tell me he was going to test her, by telling her that if I married her he would disinherit me—that our marriage would come without the contents of the Kastellanos coffers for her to enjoy.

He’d told his father to go right ahead—knowing that Eliana would not care, that her love for him was all that mattered to her, not his wealth.

How wrong I was.

Bitterness seared through him again, as strong now as it had been that fateful evening when he’d watched her walk away from him...walk away for ever. Eviscerating him.

He wrenched himself away, heading back indoors. He wanted another whisky. And another one after that, if need be. Anything to block memories.

But they came all the same And just as toxic.

Eliana and me, on that sofa there. She curled up beside me like a kitten, her head on my shoulder and my arm around her. And I was kissing her, and her mouth was sweet like wine, and her body was soft against mine, and all I wanted in the world was to lift her up, carry her upstairs to my bed...

But that had been impossible.

Impossible not just because this had been his father’s house then, but also because he’d known Eliana would not have yielded to his mounting desires. She’d wanted to wait till their wedding night.

That ugly twist to his mouth came again. Had that been part of her machinations as well? Withholding her body from him to make him all the more eager to marry her?

He set the empty whisky glass aside. What the hell was the point of standing here, remembering what had happened and what had never happened? Remembering a woman who had never been the woman he’d thought her. Who had made a fool of him...

And then walked away from him.

He had never set eyes on her again—until tonight.

He strode from the room, wrenching his black tie undone as he did so, making for the staircase. He would put tonight out of his head. Tomorrow he was flying to Frankfurt on business, and he was glad of it. Putting as much distance as possible between Greece and himself was the smart thing to do. The only thing.

CHAPTER TWO

ELIANA STEPPED OFF the train on to the platform. She felt dog-tired. She’d slept almost not at all, and the train from Athens to Thessaloniki seemed to have taken for ever. She’d dozed only fitfully in her seat during the five-hour journey, and she still had a bus ride to her destination.

She hefted her small pull-along suitcase, grateful it was on wheels, heading out of the station. As she passed the waiting taxis, her mouth thinned. A bus ride was all that she could afford. Just as her pokey studio flat in a run-down apartment block was all she could afford.

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