by Sarah Morgan
For Love or Money Bundle
Sale or Return Bride
By Sarah Morgan
Taken by the Highest Bidder
By Jane Porter
For Revenge…Or Pleasure?
By Trish Morey
Table of Contents
Sale or Return Bride
By Sarah Morgan
Taken by the Highest Bidder
By Jane Porter
For Revenge…Or Pleasure?
By Trish Morey
About the Authors
Sale or Return Bride
By Sarah Morgan
CHAPTER ONE
‘SEBASTIEN FIORUKIS?’ Alesia gaped at her grandfather, the grandfather who had been a stranger to her in all but reputation for her whole life. ‘In exchange for the money I need, you expect me to marry Sebastien Fiorukis?’
‘Precisely.’ Alesia’s grandfather smiled an unpleasant smile as she struggled to find her voice and fought to control the torrent of emotion that surged up inside her. Whatever she’d expected when she’d been working up the courage to tackle her grandfather, it hadn’t been that.
Fiorukis. The Greek tycoon who had taken his father’s moderately successful business and built it into a corporation that rivalled that of her grandfather; the billionaire reputed to be every bit as ruthless as her grandfather; the man who moved between women at a speed faster than the cars he drove and the jets he flew. The man who—
‘You can’t be serious!’ She looked up, her teeth gritted and her eyes stinging. The very thought made her feel sick. ‘The Fiorukis family was responsible for the death of my father—’
And she despised them as much as she despised her grandfather.
As much as she despised everything Greek.
‘And because of that, my blood-line died out,’ her grandfather said harshly. ‘Now I shall ensure the same fate for the Fiorukis family. If he marries you then it will end with the son, just as mine did.’
Alesia stopped breathing, rigid with shock. He knew.
Somehow he knew.
The file she was holding dropped from her nerveless fingers and papers scattered across the marble floor. She didn’t notice.
As the full implication of his words sank into her shocked brain, her face paled and her voice was little more than a whisper. ‘You know that I can’t have children—?’
How could he know? How could he be party to such an intimate, personal detail?
All her life she’d kept that information private. The only slight salve to her pain had been that her anguish was her own—that no one would pity her.
She stared at him, her breathing rapid. She’d arrived strong and full of purpose. Now suddenly she felt vulnerable and exposed. Stripped naked in front of a man who, despite their shared blood-line, had been a stranger from her childhood.
That man was watching her now, an expression of smug satisfaction in his hard eyes.
Her grandfather, Dimitrios Philipos.
‘I make it my business to know everything about everyone.’ His tone was brittle and unsympathetic as he observed her distress with evident satisfaction. ‘Information is the key to success in life.’
Alesia swallowed back the lump building in her throat. How could such personal agony ever be considered ‘success’?
Marriage.
It was the cruellest taunt. She’d long ago been forced to come to terms with the fact that, no matter what her future held, it wouldn’t be marriage. How could it? How could a woman in her position ever marry?
Her mind raced ahead, trying to keep up with the evil genius of her grandfather. ‘If you truly know everything about me then you must also know the reason I’m here. You must know that my mother is getting sicker, that she needs an operation—’
His smile was unpleasant. ‘Let’s just say I’ve been expecting you. You didn’t disappoint me.’
Fury shot through her, driving out the weakness induced by his reminder of her own limitations as a woman.
She hated him.
Alesia stared at the grandfather she’d never even met before this moment and gave a shiver of revulsion. Her head throbbed with a tension headache that had been plaguing her since she’d stepped off the plane at Athens Airport and she felt a dull ache in the pit of her stomach, a reminder that she’d been too nervous to eat for the past few days.
So much was at stake. Her mother’s future lay in her hands, in her ability to negotiate some sort of deal with a man who was nothing short of a monster.
He presided over the room like a king, seated in an enormous gilded chair with ornately curved handles, barking out orders to terrified staff who hovered within shouting distance.
Alesia glanced around the opulent room with distaste. Such a blatant display of wealth sickened her.
Did the man have no shame? Did he know that she held down three jobs in order to give her mother the care that she needed?
Care that he should have been providing for the past fifteen years.
Alesia took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. Temper would get her nowhere. It took enormous effort not to just turn and walk from the room, leaving the old man to his piles of money and lonely existence. But she couldn’t do that. She had to ignore the fact that he was the most selfish, shallow individual she’d ever laid eyes on and she had to ignore the fact that if it hadn’t been for her mother she wouldn’t be standing here now. She had to stay focused on the task in hand.
Nothing—nothing—was going to distract her from her reason for being here. He’d ignored her mother’s needs for fifteen years, denied her very existence, but Alesia wasn’t going to let him ignore her. Not any longer. It was time that he remembered what family was supposed to be about.
‘Wipe that expression off your face. You came to me, remember? You’re the one who wants the money.’ Dimitrios’s voice was harsh and heavily accented and Alesia stiffened defensively.
‘For my mother.’
He gave a grunt of contempt. ‘She could have asked me herself if she had any backbone.’
Alesia felt the anger rise inside her again and squashed it down with ruthless determination. She sensed that if she let her emotions rule then he’d show her the door. ‘My mother is very unwell—’
He watched her closely, a nasty smile on his face. ‘And that’s the only reason you’re here, isn’t it? Nothing else would induce you to step over my threshold. You hate me. She’s taught you to hate me.’ He leaned forward. ‘You’re furiously angry and you’re trying to hide it because you don’t want to risk antagonizing me in case I say no. In case I slam the lid of my coffer shut and catch your fingers.’
He threw back his head and laughed, obviously enjoying the situation enormously.
Refusing to believe that anyone could be so totally lacking in conscience, Alesia spread her hands and tried to appeal to his sense of reason. ‘She was your son’s wife—’
‘Don’t remind me.’ The laughter faded and he sat back in his chair watching her without a flicker of remorse or regret. ‘It’s a shame you weren’t a boy. You look as though you’ve inherited his spirit. You even look a little like him, apart from that blonde hair and those blue eyes. You should have had dark hair and dark eyes and if my son hadn’t been seduced by that woman you would have had the pedigree you deserve and you wouldn’t have lived the last fifteen years of your life in exile. All this could have been yours.’
Alesia glanced round the room at ‘all this’. The contrast between her own circumstances and those of her grandfather couldn’t have been more marked. Evidence of his wealth was everywhere, from the oste
ntatious statues that guarded the entrance of virtually every doorway in his mansion to the enormous fountain that gushed forth in the elaborate courtyard.
Alesia thought of her own home in a rough area of London—a small ground-floor flat which she’d had converted to accommodate her mother’s disability—all that she could afford after she’d paid for the help her mother needed.
Then she thought of her mother and her long struggle for survival. A struggle which this man could have lessened.
She gritted her teeth and doubled the effort required not to walk from the room. ‘I’m perfectly happy with my pedigree,’ she said stiffly, ‘and I love England.’
‘Don’t answer me back!’ He turned on her with an enraged growl and for a moment she tensed, sure that he was going to hit her. ‘If you answer back, he’ll never marry you. You may not look Greek but I want your behaviour to be totally Greek. You will be meek and obedient and you will not venture an opinion on any subject unless asked. Do you hear me?’
Alesia stared at him in disbelief. ‘You’re serious about this? You really think I’m going to marry a Fiorukis?’
Her grandfather gave an ugly smile. ‘If you want the money, then yes. You’ll marry Sebastien Fiorukis and you’ll make sure he doesn’t find out about your infertility. I will make sure that the terms of the deal will tie him to you in marriage until you produce an heir. Seeing as you will never produce an heir, then he will be locked in a childless marriage for ever, unable to extract himself.’ Dimitrios Philipos threw back his head and gave a nasty laugh. ‘The perfect retribution. They always say that revenge is a dish best eaten cold. I’ve waited fifteen years for this moment but it was worth the wait. It’s masterly. You are the tool of my revenge.’
Alesia stared at him in undisguised horror, so shocked by his vindictive plan that she was unable to hide her distaste.
No wonder her mother had warned her that the man was evil. He didn’t have an ounce of compassion in his body.
‘I can’t do that.’ She lifted a hand to her throat. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. The room was totally airless. ‘You can’t ask me to do that.’
She couldn’t marry Sebastien Fiorukis. He had all the characteristics she despised in a man. To be asked to spend her life with him—
Alesia closed her eyes and tried to remember how she’d got into this situation. She’d never believed in feuds and vengeance.
She was English!
Her grandfather’s smile was unpleasant. ‘If you want the money then you’ll do it.’
Alesia bit her lip hard, her mind racing in all directions.
She wanted the money. She had to have the money. ‘It’s wrong—’
‘It’s justice,’ her grandfather said, his voice icy-cold. ‘Justice that we should have meted out to the Fiorukis family a long time ago. The Greek always avenge their dead and you, even though you are only half Greek, should know this.’
Alesia stared at him helplessly.
Was this the time to tell him that she hated everything Greek? That she didn’t feel at all Greek and never would?
She stayed silent, she couldn’t risk alienating her grandfather.
Anything.
That was what she’d told herself before she’d arrived at her grandfather’s villa today. She’d do anything to get the money she needed.
But she’d underestimated her grandfather’s ability to turn her desperation to his own advantage.
She studied him carefully, noting the chill in his eyes and the ugly set of his fleshy mouth. The thought flashed through her brain that to intentionally make an enemy of this man would be foolish in the extreme. Then she almost laughed at her own naïvety. They were enemies already. Had been from the day that her mother had smiled up at her father and captured his heart, shattering Dimitrios’s plans for a wedding to a good Greek girl.
‘Fiorukis will never agree to marry me,’ she said calmly. ‘He’ll refuse.’
And then she wouldn’t have to spend the rest of her life with a man she’d been bred to hate. There was no way he’d agree to marry her, she consoled herself. Sebastien Fiorukis discarded women with ruthless efficiency and with a casual disregard for their feelings. It was common knowledge that marriage was right at the bottom of his agenda.
Why would he marry her, when their families were virtually at war?
‘Sebastien Fiorukis is first and foremost a businessman,’ her grandfather said in derisive tones, ‘and the inducement I have offered him to marry my granddaughter will prove too tempting for him to pass up.’
‘What inducement?’
Her grandfather gave a nasty smile. ‘Let’s just say that I have something he wants—which is the basis of all successful business negotiations. He is also a man who can’t pass an attractive woman and not make a move on her. For some reason he favours blonde women, so you’re in luck—or you will be once we’ve got you out of those tatty jeans and dressed you in something decent. And if you want that money then you won’t do anything to put him off. Now clear up the mess you made on my floor.’
In luck? Her grandfather truly thought that attracting the attentions of that arrogant, ruthless Greek was lucky?
Functioning on automatic, Alesia stooped and gathered together the papers with shaking hands, her mind working quickly. What choice did she have? There was no other possible source for the money she needed. If there had been then she wouldn’t be standing here now. And it wouldn’t be marriage in the true sense of the word. They probably wouldn’t even need to speak to each other very often—
‘If I do it—if I say yes, you’ll give me the money?’
‘No—’ her grandfather gave a grunt ‘—but Fiorukis will. It will be part of the agreement. He will give you an allowance every month. How you spend that will be up to you.’
Alesia’s mouth fell open. Her grandfather had managed to construct a deal where he didn’t even have to part with his money—
Sebastien Fiorukis was not only going to have to marry the granddaughter of his greatest enemy but he was going to have to pay for the privilege.
Why would he agree to such an outrageous idea?
What exactly was the inducement that her grandfather had referred to?
She raised a shaking hand to her temple, wishing that her head would stop aching. Wishing that she could think clearly.
She knew enough about her grandfather to assume that, for whatever reason, Sebastien Fiorukis would agree to the deal.
Which meant that if she wanted the money then she was going to have to do the one thing she’d promised herself that she’d never do.
She was going to have to marry.
And marry not just anyone, but the man whose family had been responsible for the death of her father.
A man she hated.
‘Why would Dimitrios Philipos come to us?’ Sebastien Fiorukis paced the terrace that ran the length of his luxury Athenian villa and then paused to study his father, his handsome face devoid of expression. He’d learned at an early age the advantage of inscrutability and he practised the art to perfection. ‘The feud between our families goes back for three generations.’
‘Apparently that’s the reason for his approach,’ Leandros Fiorukis said cautiously. ‘He thinks it’s time to mend fences. Publicly.’
‘Mend fences?’ Sebastien raised an eyebrow, incredulity lighting his expressive dark eyes. ‘Since when did Dimitrios Philipos ever want to mend fences? The man is evil and totally without conscience.’
The fact that his father was even considering meeting with the man astonished him. But his father was growing old, Sebastien acknowledged with a tinge of regret, and the loss of the family company so many years earlier had been a thorn in his side for too long.
His father sighed. ‘I want this feud to end, Sebastien. I want to retire in peace with your mother, knowing that what is rightfully ours has been returned. I no longer have the stomach for a fight.’
At the prospect of finally going head to head with h
is lifelong enemy, Sebastien gave a dangerous smile. Fortunately he had no such reservations. In fact he positively thrived on confrontation and animosity. If Dimitrios Philipos thought that he could play his usual game of bullying and intimidation then he was going to discover that he’d finally met his match.
His father picked up some papers. ‘The deal he is offering is astonishing.’
‘All the more reason to be suspicious of his motives,’ Sebastien drawled in cool tones and Leandros Fiorukis eyed his son cautiously.
‘You would be a fool not to listen and I know you’re not a fool,’ his father said carefully. ‘Whatever else he may be, Dimitrios Philipos is still a Greek. He pays you a compliment by offering to meet.’
‘The day Dimitrios Philipos pays me a compliment is the day I reach for a weapon,’ Sebastien drawled lazily, his gaze lingering on his father’s face, registering the lines of worry and the dark shadows.
Suddenly he realized that his father had aged. That the strain of the ongoing feud had been too much for him.
‘I have agreed to the meeting on your behalf—’ His father looked at him wearily and Sebastien gritted his teeth and vowed that, whatever it took, he would end this feud once and for all, even if he had to take Philipos down with his bare hands.
‘Good.’ His tone was curt. ‘It’s time to end this. Tell me what he’s offering.’
‘He’s returning your birthright. He’s handing over his company.’ His father gave a harsh laugh and dropped the papers on to the table. ‘Or should I say “our company” since that is how it started out before Philipos defrauded your grandfather?’
Philipos was offering back the company? Sebastien hid his shock, his dark eyes veiled as he watched his father. It couldn’t be that easy. ‘And in return?’
His father’s gaze slid from his. ‘You marry his granddaughter.’
‘You’re joking!’ Stunning dark eyes alight with incredulity and more than a trace of amusement, Sebastien stared at his father in disbelief. ‘What century are we in?’
