Chapter Two
Two days later
Theo Caras stood on the grandiose belle époque roof garden of Galicos’ premiere casino hotel—which his brother Xander had booked out months ago to host his engagement party.
That would be the prospective groom, who was now a no-show—thanks to a chance encounter with a waitress three nights ago.
Theo downed a shot of ouzo and stared out at the array of invited celebrities and VIPs in their designer finery busy gorging themselves on Caras Shipping’s hospitality, while silently cursing his older brother again.
Xander had dumped this mess on him—thanks to an inconvenient sense of honour that had reared its ugly head when his brother had discovered he’d got a waitress pregnant.
The girl was cute enough, but if Xander really believed Poppy Brown’s baby was his, why didn’t he just pay her off?
Maybe the girl had told them both, when Theo had met her on the Caras yacht three nights ago, she didn’t want Xander’s money, but Theo wasn’t buying it.
The waitress was just holding out for a better offer.
But instead of bargaining with the girl, Xander had insisted on sailing off with her, thus screwing the deal with Prince Andreas and his daughter, leaving Caras Shipping with nowhere to park the luxury cruise liners that would be ready to launch by the end of next year.
The irony didn’t escape Theo that the cruise business had always been his brother’s baby. But Xander had finally admitted to him he’d conceived of the new venture to give Caras Shipping more class.
Why did they need class? When they had money?
Theo didn’t get it. But he had realised, after Xander’s impassioned explanation, that the cruise business meant a lot to his brother…
And for that reason, securing the land for Xander meant a lot to Theo, too…
There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Xander, because he was the only person whom he had ever truly cared about.
Theo guessed most people would consider their childhood terrifying—scarred by poverty, hunger, and lawlessness—after their father had abandoned them both in a two-room hovel in Athens when they were both still kids.
But for Theo, it had been exciting. He’d never much liked the huge bear of a man who stank of stale liquor and resentment.
So he had silently rejoiced when he’d woken up one morning to find the bastard gone.
And that tough start had made both him and Xander the men they were today: ruthless, focussed, single-minded and stupendously rich—with no unnecessary attachments.
Well, apart from that pregnant waitress.
But Xander would come to his senses soon and pay to make that problem go away.
As he nursed the aniseed liquor, he gazed out at the ornate roof garden full of the sort of people who wouldn’t even have wiped their shoes on him when he was a boy.
He was wealthier and a lot more influential than every one of them now.
Each morning spent scavenging for scraps by the docks, or lying through his teeth to the latest social worker or picking tourists’ pockets for gang members who would break his arm if he crossed them, had been worth it, because it had got him here.
Even if he would much rather be somewhere else, right now—like licking wine off a supermodel’s breasts on his private beach in Kefalonia.
He dumped the shot glass onto a passing tray and grabbed some water.
Time to ditch the alcohol until after he’d had a chance to meet the prince and his opportunistic daughter.
And get to work on salvaging this mess. Xander had suggested they look for other locations to base the new cruise ships, but the tract of land on Galicos’ coastline was the best option by far.
So, Theo was going to ensure they got it.
Theo could be charming when he needed to be, in fact he’d turned shallow charm into an art form in his teens and early twenties, switching it on and off when required as he and Xander had built an empire.
And he had always hated entitled snobs like Prince Andreas, which was going to make besting the guy all the sweeter.
‘His Highness, the Prince of Galicos, and his daughter, Princess Freya…’
Theo walked through the crowd to greet his guests of honour—not surprised Andreas and his daughter had showed up, despite all the prince’s hot air on the phone three days ago.
But as he reached the receiving chamber of the lavish space, his gaze snagged on the young woman on the prince’s arm.
Heat sank into his abdomen. And he swore in Greek.
This was Xander’s almost fiancée? He’d seen pictures of Princess Freya in the press, but he’d never examined them closely, because she’d looked way too young and innocent and boringly vanilla for a guy like him…
Plus he’d never been interested in increasing his social cachet by snagging himself a princess, unlike his brother.
Royalty was just another grift. One you could be born into through an accident of birth and had never had to earn.
But as Theo’s gaze raked over the prince’s daughter, he felt the familiar spike of adrenaline, which only signified one thing… He wanted her.
Why hadn’t his brother mentioned how stunning the girl was in the flesh?
She looked nothing like the pictures he’d seen of her.
She wasn’t particularly tall, but her legs looked endless in a pair of jewelled heels.
The cocktail dress was another surprise—the glittery fabric stopped just south of her butt while the two panels draped over high full breasts gave him an uninterrupted view of her cleavage.
She was revealing a lot more flesh than he would have expected from a princess. Was she even wearing a bra?
His gaze reached her face, and he had to tense against another uncomfortable spike of lust.
She had the most incredible eyes, a deep, iridescent green that reminded him of the sea around the house he’d built on Kefalonia but rarely had the time to visit.
Filled with a strange mix of artlessness and self-possession, her eyes dominated a fine-boned face—while the slash of expertly applied make-up across the upper lids accentuated their cat-like grace.
He’d heard the term come-to-bed eyes, but he’d obviously had no idea what that meant until now—the huge green orbs beckoning him into their depths and making desire pulse in his gut.
Her hair was a rich light brown streaked with gold and was piled on top of her head in an artfully messy updo, which left tendrils hanging down to caress her swanlike neck.
It was the kind of hairdo designed to make a man’s fingers itch to sink into the silky mass and make it tumble onto her bare shoulders.
Her big eyes widened, and teeth nipped at her bottom lip, chewing off the lip gloss that sparkled in the torchlight, like the diamonds hanging from her earlobes.
Was she deliberately trying to get him fixated on her mouth? And how kissable it was? Because it was working.
He shoved his fists into his pockets, resisting the urge to drag her towards him and taste the cupid’s bow on top, before thrusting his tongue deep to…
A throat cleared loudly, snapping him out of the erotic fantasy.
‘Monsieur Caras, the younger, I presume?’
He turned, to find the prince—who he had barely noticed—watching him with a smug half-smile on his face.
Although this was their first encounter, the man was as pompous and self-important as Theo had expected.
His portly frame was clothed in a dress uniform with a display of ribbons and medals attached to the red serge that Theo doubted the guy had earned the hard way.
Theo swallowed, irritated to realise his mouth was drier than Rhodes in high summer.
It took him a full second to recover from the direct hit to his libido caused by the man’s daughter, before he nodded. ‘And you would be Prince Andreas, I presume?’
The prince’s jaw tightened, his eyes going flat with disgust at Theo’s refusal to address him like a supreme being.
Theo didn’t give a damn. They both knew why the man was here—because he needed this deal a hell of a lot more than Caras Shipping, if the rumours Theo had heard about the principality’s finances were true…
Controlling his indignation with an effort, the prince gave a stiff nod. ‘Correct. Let me introduce you to my daughter, Monsieur Caras,’ he said, the smug tone returning. ‘Her Royal Highness, Princess Freya.’
The prince lifted his daughter’s slender arm, clearly expecting Theo to bow before them both.
Yeah, not gonna happen either.
But then the man laughed, the sound grating. ‘Although I believe you already know that.’
Theo wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, but he could see the girl was less than impressed with her father’s joke when her cat-like eyes went a little squinty. As if she’d just sucked on a lemon.
‘I guess so,’ Theo said, keeping his gaze on the girl. Because she was a lot more intriguing than her old man. But then he couldn’t resist taking her father up on the invitation he probably hadn’t intended and clasped the girl’s outstretched hand.
Her brows lifted as a ripple of sensation flowed through her cool, delicate fingers.
‘Great to finally meet you, Princess Freya,’ Theo said, before raising her trembling hand to press his lips to the knuckles.
Her shocked gasp at his audacity made her breasts sway under the glittery panels of her gown.
Definitely, no bra.
He inhaled her scent—a sultry mix of female musk and delicate rose perfume… And his mind filled with the enticing image of his thumb—dark against her pale flesh—drawing aside one of the glittery panels barely covering her breasts.
Heat surged.
Whoa, boy.
He blinked, struggling to control the vicious hunger before things got uncomfortable.
‘It is a pleasure to meet you too, Monsieur Caras,’ she replied, her voice a captivating mix of husky and tense. ‘I have already had the pleasure of meeting your brother, Alexander.’