The Mills & Boon Stars Collection

Her nose wrinkled with distaste. ‘I hardly think I would want to talk about it,’ she said drily, fighting the nerves leaping in her stomach.

‘In return I will purchase a suitable house for your father and his family.’

Lilah squared her slight shoulders. ‘No, you will not. I don’t want my family to be suspicious about my supposed job with you, and if you splash around too much cash they will definitely be suspicious. Give my father employment and he’ll take care of his own family without any further help from you,’ she told him with quiet pride.

‘I’ll want you to fly down to London with me tomorrow.’

Her eyes flew wide. ‘Tomorrow?’

‘I’ll call your father in to see me today and share the good news. I’ll inform him that you’re joining my personal staff. You can go home early to pack and you can dine with me at my hotel tonight.’

‘I have a prior arrangement to meet friends.’

‘To do what?’ Bastien demanded impatiently.

‘To eat out and see a movie.’

Bastien compressed his wide, sensual mouth. He wanted to tell her that in the near future she would do nothing without his permission. It was astonishing how much pleasure that belief gave him. But he didn’t need to crack the whip right here and now, did he? She would be his soon enough and he would share her with no one—not friends, not family, no one.

Was that what could be described as a ‘possessive’ thought? His skin chilled at the suspicion. No, the thought was born of the reality that he had had to wait so long for Delilah that he wanted and indeed expected to receive one hundred per cent of her attention. He was not and never would be a possessive man, he assured himself with confidence. Even so, now that Delilah was officially set to become part of his life, in a way no other woman had ever been, he would ensure that she was protected by telling one of his security team to keep an eye on her from a discreet distance.

Lilah watched as Bastien unfurled his cell phone, stabbed out a number and spoke at length in Greek—short, staccato phrases that sounded very much like instructions.

‘My driver will take you home now,’ he informed her smoothly. ‘And wait to collect your father and bring him back here to see me.’

Lilah hovered, because he made it all seem so bloodless and impersonal. Nothing she had said had changed his outlook about what he was doing. He neither regretted nor questioned his callous methods. He wanted her and he didn’t care what he had to do to get her. The passion that had to power such an unapologetic desire for her body shook Lilah.

He closed a hand round hers and entrapped her without warning. ‘Evidently I won’t see you now until tomorrow, when we meet on my plane. It’s probably just as well that you’re seeing friends tonight. It takes the focus off us,’ he pointed out with grudging appreciation. ‘It will be more comfortable for all of us that way.’

‘Certainly for you...if it keeps my father in the dark,’ Lilah gibed.

‘Do you honestly think I care about his opinion?’ Bastien countered thickly. ‘We’re single adults. What we do in private is our business.’

Long dark fingers closed round her other hand, tugging her closer, fully entrapping her.

‘Our business alone,’ Bastien repeated thickly, lowering his arrogant dark head to hers and teasing along the tense line of her full lower lip with the blunt edge of his teeth, before soothing it with his tongue in a provocative caress that caught her unprepared and sent liquid heat to pool in her pelvis.

‘We’re at work, for goodness’ sake!’ Lilah protested in a rattled undertone.

‘It’s just a kiss,’ Bastien husked, delving between her parted lips with his tongue and plunging deep with an unashamed hunger that roared through her like a bush fire.

Her knees locked and her legs swayed and she grabbed his forearms to steady herself, fingers clenching into the fabric of his suit jacket in consternation.

Just a kiss.

A little voice reminded her that in the near future she would have to give him a great deal more than a kiss. His mouth hardened on hers, hot and demanding, and a sensation like an electric shock tingled through her, awakening her body as nothing else had ever done. Her nipples pinched into tight buds of sensitivity; the secret flesh between her legs pulsed with sudden dampness. It was a wanting—a fierce wanting unlike anything she had ever felt before—and she was appalled by the response he was wringing from her treacherous body.

A lean hand clamped her spine to force her closer, and against her stomach she felt the hard swell of his erection even through the barrier of their clothing. A surge of burning heat that was very far from revulsion engulfed her and her face burned even hotter as he set her back from him with controlled force.

‘I shouldn’t start something I can’t finish,’ Bastien quipped.

Desperately flailing for something...anything...to distract her from the attack of self-loathing waiting to pounce on her, Lilah paused on her way to the door. ‘Is it all right if I bring my dog with me tomorrow?’

‘No pets. Leave the dog with your family.’

‘I can’t. My stepmother isn’t comfortable with dogs. He’s very small and quiet,’ Lilah assured Bastien, lying through her teeth because Skippy wasn’t remotely quiet once he got to know people.

Bastien frowned. ‘Write down its details. I’ll arrange for a specialist transport firm to handle the travel arrangements,’ he pronounced after a considered pause. ‘But once the animal arrives in France keep it away from me.’

‘France?’ she repeated in consternation.

‘We’re going to France the day after tomorrow.’

Lilah tottered back downstairs, shattered by the way she had succumbed to that single kiss. How could Bastien still have that effect on her? She hadn’t been prepared for that. Perhaps naively she had assumed that her disgust at the unholy agreement he had offered her would protect her. But it hadn’t.

Bastien had bought her acquiescence with a job for her father and the promised long-term prosperity of the reopened factory. Didn’t he see how wrong that deal was? That reducing her body to the level of something to be traded like a product made her hate him? Didn’t that matter to him?

But why should it matter to him? she questioned heavily as she informed Julie that she was leaving early. Bastien only wanted sex. He wasn’t interested in what went on inside her head or how she felt about him. He didn’t care... And neither should she care, she told herself defiantly. Being oversensitive in Bastien’s radius was only going to get her hurt and humiliated. He wouldn’t give her the kind of polite or gracious pretences that would allow her to save face. There would be no frills in the way of romance or compliments. He wasn’t about to dress up their connection by making it about anything more than sex.

Later that same evening, in the wake of a whirlwind of embarrassingly untruthful explanations on the home front and a great deal of packing, Lilah emerged from the cinema with Josh—a tall, attractive man in his twenties, with brown hair and green eyes—and two other couples, Ann and Jack and Dana and George. There was nothing like a good fright or two to dispel tension, Lilah acknowledged wryly as she laughed at something Ann said about the horror movie they had watched.

‘You’re making a wise move on the career front,’ Josh told her. ‘Doing HR at Moore wasn’t stretching you. Working for an international businessman will offer you much more experience.’

A shamefaced flush lit Lilah’s face, because her friends had swallowed her lies about going to work for Bastien hook, line and sinker—just as her family had. ‘I suppose so...’

‘Very bad timing for me, though.’ Without warning Josh reached for both her hands. ‘You’re leaving just when I was about to ask you out on a real date.’

‘What?’ Lilah’s voice was shrill with surprise.

Josh grinned down at her, ignoring Jack’s mocking wolf whistle. ‘I mean, you must have wondered at least once what it would be like if we got together.’

Lilah grimaced, not knowing what to say to him. Because she never had wondered.

Josh edged her back against the wall behind her. ‘Just one kiss,’ he muttered.

Lilah stiffened, wondering why she felt like a stick of rock with ‘Property of Bastien Zikos’ stamped all the way through her. ‘No, Josh,’ she said, her hands braced against his chest.

But because she couldn’t bring herself to actively push him away he kissed her, and she felt much as a shop window mannequin might have felt...absolutely nothing. Because while she liked Josh, and enjoyed his company, she had never fancied him.

‘While you’re away think about the possibility of us,’ Josh urged, stretching an arm round her to guide her towards his parked car.

‘I don’t think so,’ Lilah responded, wondering if there was a kind way of telling a man that you didn’t fancy him in the slightest and knowing that there wasn’t, and that the best response was probably for her just to pretend that absolutely nothing had happened.

‘Awkward...’ Ann mouthed, her eyes rolling with sympathy.

When Lilah walked back into her living room she was surprised by the expression of sincere happiness on her father’s face. But she knew that even before she had reached home that afternoon Bastien had phoned her father, and the older man had already put on a suit by the time the car bringing his daughter home had arrived. When Lilah had gone out to meet her friends her father had still been out, presumably still with Bastien, which had worried Lilah.

‘Everything all right, Dad?’ she questioned anxiously.

‘Better than that,’ the older man assured her with vigour, and informed her that Bastien had hired him to act as manager at Moore Components—a role which he was very happy to take on.

‘I’m beginning to understand how Bastien has become so very rich so fast,’ the older man remarked in wry addition. ‘He’s very astute, and he spotted a break that would benefit Moore when no one else did.’

‘What? What did he spot?’ Lilah prompted with a frown.

‘Bastien recognised that the council has recently rezoned the town’s plans to open the door for further development. He’s selling the current site for a huge amount of money and relocating the factory to the Moat Road, where he’ll qualify for all sorts of lucrative government grants when he reopens for business. It’s an incredibly smart move.’

‘Good grief!’ Lilah gasped, shock and temper bubbling up inside her at the belated awareness that Bastien had cut a very good deal with her in every way. Not only was he getting her, parcelled up like a gift, but he was also evidently on course to make a big profit too! And that realisation absolutely enraged Lilah.

CHAPTER FOUR

LILAH BOARDED BASTIEN’S private jet with her head held high. No, she wasn’t about to show the shame she felt, and she wasn’t anyone’s victim—least of all Bastien’s. This was her choice, she reminded herself doggedly. Bastien might have laid out those hateful options but she had made the choice, and she was still happy with what her sacrifice had achieved for her family.

Her father was managing the business he loved. For the moment he and Vickie would stay on in Lilah’s little house, because it was affordable and within easy reach of Ben’s school. Lilah thought her father and stepmother probably couldn’t quite credit that life had changed for the better again. Having so recently lost everything, they were afraid of another disaster.

Lilah had had tears in her eyes when she’d parted from her little brother and sister that morning, for she had no idea when she would see them again. Did a mistress get time off from her role? Would she have any rights at all?

* * *

Bastien rested his arrogant dark head back to survey Delilah as she walked into the cabin. His mouth took on a sardonic curve when he saw her. She wore a drab, dated black trouser suit and had braided her hair again, concealing her every attraction to the best of her ability. But Bastien was hard to fool. She couldn’t conceal the supple elegance of her delicate build or the healthy youthful glow of her fair skin and bright blue eyes, and when the jacket of her suit flapped back, revealing a sheer white shirt that hugged her small pouting breasts like a second skin, the fit of his trousers became uncomfortably tight.

Tonight, he thought impatiently, would finally rid him of the almost adolescent state of arousal she inflicted on him. A virgin, though... Was that really the truth? Didn’t that deserve a certain amount of considerate staging?

Since when had he been considerate? Bastien asked himself irritably as Delilah attempted to walk past him towards the back of the cabin, where his staff were seated. His hand snapped out to close round her wrist and bring her to a halt.

‘You sit with me,’ he told her flatly.

Her full pink mouth tightened.

‘Take off that ugly jacket. Let down your hair,’ Bastien instructed.

Lilah froze. ‘What will you do if I say no?’

‘Rip off the jacket and yank out the hair tie for you,’ Bastien traded without hesitation.

Warm colour flooded Lilah’s cheeks and feathery lashes lowered over her eyes, because she was insanely conscious of his staff watching from the other end of the cabin. They were clearly wondering what she was doing on board and were now about to have their curiosity satisfied. She shrugged out of the jacket stiffly and reached up to tug at the tie anchoring her braid. Her hand was shaking as she loosened her hair.

Rage and mortification gusted through her as she dropped down into the seat beside Bastien, glossy black curls fanning in tousled disarray across her shoulders and brushing her flushed cheekbones.

‘And just like that you look gorgeous again, koukla mou.’

‘Is it going to be like this with everything? Your way or the highway?’ Lilah pressed in a strangled hiss.

‘What do you think?’

‘That I once thought you were enough of a man not to need to control a woman’s every move!’

His lean, darkly handsome features slashed into a sudden, entirely unexpected grin, his pride untouched by that crack. ‘The trouble is...I enjoy controlling you.’

Lilah snatched in a much-needed gulp of oxygen. He sent her temper zooming from zero to sixty in the space of seconds. She had never considered herself quick-tempered until she met Bastien, but he literally set her teeth on edge almost every time he spoke.

‘Why would you even want a woman who doesn’t want you? Or is that what it takes to turn you on?’

That was a suggestion that deeply affronted Bastien, for the merest hint of aversion to him from a lover would have repulsed him.

He turned round to face her more directly, his dark eyes flaming gold as ingots, and closed a hand into the fall of her hair to hold her still. ‘No, you’re what it takes to turn me on...but, believe me, you can make very angry.’

‘Is that a fact?’ Lilah whispered tauntingly, tilting her chin, blue eyes gleaming.

In a searing movement of sensual intimidation Bastien crushed her soft mouth under his, driving her lips apart for the stabbing penetration of his tongue. She wasn’t able to breathe, but then at that moment she didn’t want to breathe. Her head was swimming, her body stinging with wild awareness, and a roaring hunger was awakening like a hurricane deep down inside her.

For a count of ten energising seconds Bastien thought about carrying her into the sleeping compartment and sating himself on her. But he would hurt her. He knew he was too hyped up for control. Besides, it was only a short flight to London and the jet would be landing soon.

He pulled back from her, positively aching from the throbbing force of his desire. ‘You do want me,’ he contradicted thickly, scanning her wildly flushed face and swollen, reddened mouth with satisfaction. ‘You did from the first, koukla mou.’

Lilah whipped her attention away from him again and stared into space. Well, you asked for that, she told herself crossly, wondering why she always felt such a driving need to try to shoot Bastien down in flames. Unfortunately, in spite of all her efforts to ground him, he kept on soaring heavenward like a rocket.

Even so she was being confronted by a truth that she couldn’t bear to examine. From the very first glimpse she had got of Bastien she had wanted him, and the hunger he had awakened in her was both primitive and terrifying. It truly hadn’t mattered who he was or even what he was like, because her body had instantly seethed with a life of its own, wanting to connect with his, and her brain had swum with new and disturbing erotic images.

She hadn’t known attraction could be that immediate or that powerful, and had certainly never suspected that it could overwhelm all restraint and common sense. Even worse, she was painfully aware that, had Bastien employed a more subtle approach and less honesty, he most probably would have succeeded in seducing her into his bed.

The cabin crew served drinks, the glamorous blonde stewardess syrupy sweet and persistent in her determination to serve and flirt with Bastien at the same time. He ignored her behaviour as if it wasn’t happening, neither looking directly at the woman nor responding to her inviting chatter.

‘Where are we going?’ Lilah asked once the jet had landed.

‘I’m taking you shopping, and tomorrow we head to Paris. I have a business meeting there.’

‘Shopping?’ she queried in surprise.

Bastien shrugged a broad shoulder and said nothing. Lilah caught the stewardess studying her with naked envy and thought, If only you knew the truth.

But what was the real truth? Lilah asked herself as the limo whisked her and Bastien through the crowded streets of London. She had given her word and Bastien had already delivered on his promises, which meant that he owned her body and soul for the foreseeable future. And that interpretation cast her as a complete victim, Lilah acknowledged ruefully—until she admitted the reality that one glance at Bastien’s exquisitely chiselled features and tall athletic physique reduced her to a melted puddle of lust and longing. He was incredibly attractive—and, taking into account his reputation as a legendary womaniser, a very large number of women agreed with her.

They were met at the door of a world-famous store and conveyed upwards in a lift, surrounded by a posse of attendants composed of a stylist, a personal shopper and sales assistants. Clearly Bastien had already stated his preferences, and they were shown into a private room where he was ushered into a seat. Lilah hovered, watching the approach of a tray of champagne, and then she was steered into a changing room, where an astonishingly large selection of clothing awaited her.

Surely trying on loads of clothes for Bastien’s benefit wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened to her? But if making her model the clothes he wanted her to wear was a deliberate ploy to annoy her, he had played a blinder. The demeaning concept of swanning around in clothing personally picked by Bastien set her teeth on edge.

With a flush on her cheeks, she stepped back into the room clad in a blue silk dress that clung to her like cling film.

Bastien kicked back in his comfortable chair, very much in the mood to enjoy himself. His burnished gaze rested on Delilah and the oddest sense of contentment settled over him. Amusement tilted his handsome mouth when she teetered dangerously in the very high heels she clearly wasn’t accustomed to walking in. The dress was rubbish: far too revealing. The only place Delilah would be encouraged to show that amount of flesh was in his bedroom and nowhere else.

He moved a dismissive hand and awaited the next outfit, a pale pink jacket and skirt that was cute as hell against her cloud of blue-black hair and bright blue eyes. There might not be much of her, Bastien conceded, but what she lacked in curves she more than made up for in class, and with a delicacy that he considered incredibly feminine. The first time he had seen Delilah she had put him in mind of a flawless porcelain doll—until he’d noticed how expressive her face was: an ever-changing fascinating vista of what she was feeling and thinking. And what he liked most about her face was that he could read it as easily as a child’s picture book.

‘I’m not modelling underwear for you,’ she warned him in a biting undertone.

Disconcerted, Bastien froze and lifted his arrogant, dark head to meet her bright eyes head-on, finally recognising the blaze of anger banked down there. ‘Not a problem,’ he assured her lazily. ‘We’ll save that show for the bedroom, glikia mou.’

Lilah’s cheeks blazed with sudden livid colour. ‘No, that’s not me,’ she parried abruptly. ‘If that’s what you want, you’ve picked the wrong girl!’

‘You’re perfect for me,’ Bastien assured her levelly.

‘Well, that’s not a compliment I can return,’ Lilah replied tartly. ‘After all, it’s obvious that we’re a match made in hell. You want a dress-up doll that does exactly what’s it’s told and I won’t do that.’

Bastien rose lithely to his feet and looked down at her from his commanding height with unreadable dark eyes. ‘That’s not what I want.’

‘You want all the imperfections airbrushed away. You want obedience. Clearly you want a woman with submissive traits, and yet I don’t have a submissive bone in my body! In fact, I’m more likely to argue with people who make unreasonable demands,’ Lilah shot back at him in angry frustration. ‘You’re the king of unreasonable demands, Bastien. So, what are you doing with me?’

‘You’re misinterpreting everything I’ve ever said to you,’ Bastien told her drily.

‘Am I?’ Lilah rolled her bright blue eyes, unimpressed by that accusation. ‘You’re such a control freak that you even want to choose the clothes I wear.’

‘That’s untrue,’ Bastien incised. ‘You’re more like a jewel I want to see polished up and placed in the right setting. I don’t want to see you wearing cheap clothes... I want to see you shine—’

‘Bastien!’ Lilah broke in helplessly, hopelessly confused by his attitude. He only wanted to have sex with her. He had been brutally honest about that reality. What did the clothes she wore have to do with a hunger that basic? Why on earth did he care what she wore?

She had paraded around for his benefit in one outfit after another. A vast wardrobe was being assembled for her use. She was stunned by that reality as well. For goodness’ sake, was Bastien planning to keep her for the rest of her life—and his? How would she ever wear even a quarter of these clothes while she was with him? This was a male who was famed for barely lasting a month with one woman. Yet she had been equipped with countless wardrobe choices—indeed, everything a woman could conceivably want for every possible occasion and every season. Late afternoon had already stretched well into evening to encompass the shopping trip.

‘We’ll go back to the hotel now for dinner,’ Bastien proposed, as if no dispute had taken place.

Lilah returned to the changing cubicle and selected a skirt and top from the rack to put on. She was being torn in two. On one level she wanted to fight Bastien, but on another she wanted to give him what he wanted to keep him happy. After all, how much was her own pride really worth when she could still clearly recall her father’s renewed energy and hope?

What Bastien had given could easily be taken away again, she reflected fearfully. By giving her father a job, Bastien had revitalised the older man’s drive and confidence. She should be grateful, she told herself urgently, but it was no use—she was too idealistic for such practicality. Unlike Bastien, she wanted sex to come packaged with romance and commitment.

Bastien took her back to an exclusive hotel and a very spacious suite. There were two bedrooms, and in the doorway of the first, Bastien paused to say, ‘This is your room. I like my own space.’

Relieved by the news that she would not have to share a bedroom and surrender all privacy, Lilah watched as the hotel staff carted in the boxes and bags containing her brand-new wardrobe as well as a sizeable collection of designer luggage.

Bastien turned to grasp the phone extended to him by one of his personal assistants. Lean, strong face intent, he began talking urgently in French while raising an impatient hand to summon his team. As he spoke he strode to the desk in the large reception room, where a laptop had already been set up for his use.

His attention had drifted away from Lilah at supersonic speed. She watched his staff move into action, unfurling phones and tablets to follow Bastien’s instructions. One name was mentioned repeatedly—Dufort Pharmaceuticals.

She kicked off her high heels and switched on the television in the far corner of the room. The fancy evening meal she had expected to eat in Bastien’s company did not materialise. Instead, about an hour later waiters arrived with trolleys of buffet food to feed staff more interested in standing upright to eat than sitting down.

‘Delilah!’ Bastien called across the length of the room. ‘Eat...you must be hungry by now.’

‘Starving,’ she admitted, padding over to him barefoot to grasp the plate he extended, daunted by the sheer size of him when she stood next to him without her shoes.

‘A promising business deal has come up,’ Bastien confided, studying her casually tousled hair and teeny-tiny bare toes, admiring the lack of vanity that allowed her to relax to that extent in his presence. She didn’t care about impressing him, and he respected her innate sense of self-worth.

‘I guessed that...’ Lilah hid her amusement, delighted not to be the sole focus of his attention.

Ebony brows pleating, Bastien watched Delilah curl up on the sofa to return to the reality show she was watching. She was simply accepting that business came first for him without either taking offence or angling for a greater share of his attention. Yet, watching her relax back into the sofa and start eating with appetite, Bastien wondered if he should be the one taking offence—because it really wasn’t a compliment that she should be so unconcerned by his preoccupation.

Becoming bored after an hour, Delilah switched off the television and crammed her feet back into the shoes she had kicked off to stand up. It was too early for bed and she was restless.

‘Where are you going?’ Bastien asked as she moved towards the door.

‘For a walk. I need a break.’

Delilah was stepping into the lift when, to her surprise, one of Bastien’s security team joined her.

‘Is Bastien scared I’m going to run away?’ she gasped in frustration, recognising the young man.

‘I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.’ Her companion sighed. ‘My instructions are not to let you out of my sight.’

‘What’s your name?’ she asked.

‘Ciro.’

‘I’m Lilah,’ she responded with a rueful smile, knowing that it wasn’t fair to take her irritation out on Ciro, who was only guilty of doing his job.

A pianist was playing in the low-lit bar on the ground floor. Sitting down, Lilah ordered a drink. Ciro retreated to a table by the wall and left her in peace. Wishing she had thought to tuck a book into her bag, Lilah decided to catch up on her phone calls instead.

She rang her father first. Robert Moore talked non-stop to his daughter about Bastien’s plans for the business and the advantages of the new location Bastien had picked for the firm. Lilah followed up that call with one to Vickie, learning that her dog, Skippy, had been picked up on schedule by a transport firm that morning.

She was replacing her phone in her bag when a blonde woman sat down without warning in the seat opposite her. Lilah looked up in disconcertion.

‘You’re staying here with Bastien Zikos, aren’t you?’ the woman pressed with a smile.

Lilah’s brows pleated. ‘Why are you asking me that?’

‘I’m Jenny Gower and I write for the women’s page on the Daily Pageant,’ the blonde told Lilah cheerfully, setting a business card down in front of her. ‘That’s my number. Feel free to call me any time you’d like a chat. Bastien’s a real favourite with our readers and we like to keep up to date with his latest ladies.’

The woman was a reporter, Lilah realised in dismay. ‘I’ve got nothing to say to you,’ she said uncomfortably.

‘Don’t be shy. We pay generously for even little titbits.’

Without warning Ciro appeared at her elbow and intervened. ‘Lilah...you’re talking to a journalist.’

Lilah stiffened. ‘We’re not actually talking. I was just about to leave.’

And with that last word Lilah finished her drink and left the table.

‘Mr Zikos loathes gossip columnists,’ Ciro warned her with a grimace. ‘I’ll try to avoid mentioning the fact that you were approached.’

When Lilah returned to the suite Bastien was in the act of dismissing his staff for the night. ‘I was planning to come down and join you,’ he informed her.

Lilah flinched and coloured, focusing on Bastien with her heart in her mouth.

Annoyance flared in Bastien when he recognised the apprehension flashing in her gaze. Women didn’t shrink from him; they wanted him. She must’ve been telling the truth about her inexperience, he concluded grimly. Only ignorance could explain such an attitude. It was surely past time that he showed her that she had nothing to fear from him.

‘Would you like a drink?’ he asked lazily, strolling closer.

‘No, thanks,’ she said jerkily.

Bastien crossed the room and scooped her right off her feet. Loosing a startled gasp, she wriggled like an electrified eel, strands of coconut-scented hair brushing his cheek as she moved her head back and forth.