The Greek Tycoon's Reluctant Bride

Althea looked up from the book she’d been engrossed in and her eyes widened in surprise, awareness prickling along her bare arms. Demos Atrikes sprawled in the chair across from her, grinning with the gloating satisfaction of a little boy. Although there was nothing boyish about the sensual glint in his eyes as his gaze roved over her.

Althea swallowed and looked away. She forced herself to idly turn a page of her book. ‘Am I meant to be impressed?’

‘Of course.’ Demos’s gaze flicked over her once more, lingering on the book in her lap. ‘I didn’t expect to find you in a library.’

‘Oh? Where did you expect to find me?’ Althea slipped the book into her bag and raised one haughty eyebrow, her lips curving with sardonic mockery. ‘In a club? A boutique? A salon?’

Demos just smiled. ‘You’re different,’ he said. ‘I like that.’

‘And I’m so thrilled to oblige you.’ Althea reached for her bag as she began to stand up. Demos checked her with one hand.

‘Don’t be offended,’ he said with a little smile. ‘It was a compliment, you know. “Thank you” is usually the expected response.’

Althea shrugged his hand off and slipped her bag onto her shoulder. ‘You really don’t know anything about me.’

‘I know your name. Althea. It means healing.’

‘You’ve done your homework,’ she acknowledged, her eyes flashing. ‘Good boy.’

Demos grinned lazily. With irritation, Althea realised she was simply amusing him. He wasn’t one of the callow, spoiled young men she was accustomed to, boys who were all too easily put off by her put-downs. Demos Atrikes had too much confidence, too much ease and comfort in who he was for her stinging little remarks to be anything more than a diversion.

‘Have dinner with me,’ he said, and although he spoke it like an invitation, Althea heard the command in his voice. Demos Atrikes was a man determined to get what he wanted. ‘Please,’ he added mildly, his eyes glinting with amused appreciation, and Althea let out an exasperated sigh.