A Bride at His Bidding

by Michelle Smart

  Finally, he looked up from his computer, pushed his chair back and got to his feet. The sheer size and power of the man was as starkly apparent as it had been when he had swept past her three years ago.

  ‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Dunwoody.’

  She stared at the huge hand extending towards her and forced herself to lean forward and take it. Large, warm tapered fingers covered hers as he shook her hand briskly before letting go.

  ‘Take a seat,’ he commanded amicably, sitting back down and picking up a thin pile of papers from his desk.

  The skin on her hand buzzed where he’d clasped it and she fought the urge to rub it against her thigh as she took the seat he’d directed her to, and expelled the tiniest sigh of relief.

  There had been only a teeny ounce of doubt he wouldn’t recognise her. Physically she’d changed a lot since that one fleeting glance three years ago outside the headmistress’s office, when his light brown eyes had lasered her with such ferocity she had recoiled. Stress alone had made her lose three stone since then, which had altered her facial features as well as her body shape. She’d long stopped her quest for the perfect shade of blonde hair and reverted to her natural brown colour.

  If Andreas had the slightest idea of who she really was, she would not be there. She wouldn’t have got past the initial application.

  It hadn’t seemed feasible that he would recognise her or her name but she had learned through five years of her job to take nothing for granted.

  Light brown thoughtful eyes studied her rather than the paperwork in his hand, which she guessed was a copy of her job application, and she fought hard against the flush of colour crawling over her skin. When she finally forced herself to meet his gaze, the raw masculinity staring back at her intensified the flush, enflaming her bones, taking her so unawares that for a moment her mind emptied of everything but the rapid tattoo of her heart reverberating in her ears.

  Carrie swallowed, desperate for moisture in her parched throat, desperate to suck air into lungs that had closed in on themselves. Whatever kind of a man Andreas was, there was no denying that he was divine to look at. He had thick dark brown hair sun-kissed on the tips, barely tamed to flop onto a gently lined forehead, cheekbones you could ski down, a chiselled square jaw already dark with stubble and a sharp nose with a slight bend on the bridge. Deeply tanned and weather-beaten, he looked every one of his thirty-seven years.

  He was the most overtly virile and handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on.

  Then he gave her a crooked grin.

  It was like being smiled at by the big bad wolf the moment before he ate Grandma.

  ‘Congratulations on making it to the final shortlist,’ he said in his impeccable English. Carrie knew, as she knew so much about this man, that he’d learned English at school in his Greek homeland and then perfected it at his American university. He spoke the language with true fluency, firing the words out so quickly his accent sounded like a musical cadence to her ears. ‘I will be honest and tell you that you are my preferred candidate.’

  She was taken aback. ‘I am?’

  His eyes sparkled. ‘Before I go into more detail about my requirements, there are things I wish to know about you.’

  She attempted to hide her fear with a smile that didn’t want to form on her frozen cheeks.

  Had he spotted the holes in her résumé?

  After a moment of silence that seemed to echo between them she got her paper-dry throat to work. ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘References and application forms only give a narrow perspective on a person. If I give you the job then we will spend a lot of time together. You will be my right hand in my domestic life. You will be privy to my most intimate secrets. So, Miss Dunwoody...may I call you Caroline?’

  She nodded faintly. The only person who had ever called her Caroline had been her mother but she hadn’t made her name sing as Andreas did. Even as it occurred to her, that struck Carrie as an odd thought to have.

  ‘Caroline. If I give you the job I need to trust you and trust that we’ll be able to work well together.’ His relaxed frame, the musical staccato of his voice and the amusement enlivening his handsome features all worked together to reassure her that her ruse had worked but the scent of danger still lingered.

  Her instincts were telling her to take her bag and coat and leave this office right now.

  ‘Are you married or do you have a partner?’ he continued. ‘I ask because if you do, you should know you will be spending a lot of time apart from them. Your personal life must be conducted in your own time and you won’t have much of that.’

  ‘I have no significant other.’ She never had and never would. Men could not be trusted. She’d learned that before she’d reached double digits.

  ‘Children?’

  She shook her head, immediately thinking of Violet, who she loved as much as if she’d given birth to her.

  ‘Any other dependants? Dogs, cats, goldfish?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Good. I make no apologies. I am a demanding employer and this job is a twenty-four-seven one. What did Debbie tell you about it in the preliminary interview?’

  ‘That it entails the day-to-day running of your homes.’

  His head tilted and his face grew thoughtful. ‘That is how the job is advertised but you should know it is more about the day-to-day running of me. My domestic PA does oversee the running of my homes but they’re not expected to do any of the manual chores themselves—I employ other domestic staff for that. I work long and demanding hours. When I am at home I like to live in comfort and I want all my needs and comforts met by someone who is capable of turning their hand to anything, without argument. I need someone on hand to tend to all my personal needs—pour my drinks, prepare my clothing for me, make sure a towel is on hand if I do any physical activity, that kind of thing.’

  It wasn’t a domestic PA the man wanted, Carrie thought in mute outrage as she listened to his seductive voice, it was a slave.

  ‘In return, I offer a very generous salary.’ He mentioned a figure that made her blink, it being four times what she earned at the newspaper.

  She imagined that any genuine applicant would bite his hand off for it. It was an extortionate amount of money for what was essentially nothing more than being Andreas’s dogsbody.

  Now he put a forearm on his desk and leaned forward to stare at her with an intensity that made her stomach do a strange flip.

  The more she looked into his eyes, the more startling she found them, the light brown having a translucent quality that still contained real depth.

  If he gave her the job she would have to tread carefully for as long as she lived under his roof. This man was dangerous.

  ‘Now, Caroline,’ he said, the tempo of his speech finally slowing down a notch, ‘I do have one more requirement from the person I give this role to.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘I require someone who has a cheerful disposition.’

  She might as well leave, then. How could she be cheerful around the man who’d caused such damage?

  ‘What I mean by that is that I get enough stress in my work life. When I come home I like to be welcomed with a smile and not be bothered by petty gripes. Can you smile?’

  He framed the question with such faux earnestness that Carrie found her facial muscles softening and the smile she’d been trying to produce since she’d stepped into his office breaking out of its own accord.

  His eyes gleamed in response. ‘Much better.’ Then he sat back and folded his arms across his chest. The cuffs of his sleeves moved with the motion revealing a tantalising glimpse of fine dark hair.

  He nodded slowly. ‘Yes. I think you’re going to suit me very well. The job is yours if you want it.’

  She blinked her gaze away from his arms as his words sank in. ‘It is?’

  She hadn’t expected it to be this easy...

  Her heart started to thunder beneath her ribs.

  T
his was too easy.

  Andreas was one of the richest men in the world. He was highly intelligent—unverified reports placed his IQ in the world’s top one per cent and he had the street smarts to match it. In short, he was no fool, and this job that he was giving her after less than fifteen minutes in his company would take her straight into the heart of his life.

  ‘Do you want it?’ he challenged, breaking the silence that had fallen.

  ‘Yes.’ She nodded for emphasis, trying to muster her enthusiasm, and forced another smile to her face. ‘Yes, I do, definitely. Thank you.’

  ‘Good.’ His teeth flashed wolfishly. ‘Did you bring your passport?’

  ‘Yes.’ The letter discussing the second interview had been specific about it. She assumed it was needed for him to photocopy as proof of her identity.

  Andreas rose to his feet. ‘Then let us go. We have a flight slot to fill.’

  Carrie stared at him blankly. ‘Go?’

  ‘The letter you were sent clearly explained that the successful candidate for the job would start immediately.’

  ‘It did...’ But she hadn’t thought immediately meant this immediately. ‘Are we going abroad now?’

  That gleam she was beginning to seriously distrust flashed in his eyes again. ‘Yes. Right now. Do you have a problem with that?’

  ‘No problem.’ She hurried to stand. The job was hers and she wouldn’t give him reason to change his mind. She would practise smiling as soon as she found a mirror. ‘It’s just that I have no change of clothes with me.’

  ‘You will be provided with everything you need when we get there. Give Debbie your dress size as we leave.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘To one of my homes where it isn’t raining.’ And with that he opened his office door and ushered her through it.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ANDREAS SAT AT his desk on his private jet with his laptop open before him. Barely ten feet away, Carrie was at the dining table reading through the thick folder that contained the working details of all his properties. He had no doubt she would find it excruciatingly tedious to read through.

  All his properties were listed except one—the one they were flying to.

  ‘Which one should I concentrate on?’ she’d asked when he’d given it to her, subtly letting him know he hadn’t given her their final destination.

  ‘All of them.’ He’d smiled. ‘I’ll give you a test when we arrive.’

  ‘Which will be when?’

  He’d looked at his watch. ‘In approximately eleven hours.’

  Her eyes had flickered but she’d made no further comment. He’d seen her thoughts racing and had enjoyed watching her bite the questions back.

  He’d enjoyed himself enormously throughout their meeting too, far more than he’d expected. The knowledge that he’d rumbled her before she’d even set foot in his office had bubbled away inside him, satisfying enough to smother the anger that had fought for an outlet.

  Anger clouded logical thinking and he needed to keep his mind clear if he was to continue outwitting this viper.

  He’d determined that getting her out of England and as far from her home and true employment as he could and as quickly as he could was the best way to proceed. Disorientate her. Put her at the disadvantage without her even realising it and then, when he had her in his private home, unable to escape or communicate with the outside world, he would demand answers. He wanted to know everything—why she was investigating him, what she expected to find and who had put her up to it. He’d made his own discreet enquiries amongst his media contacts but had come up blank. No one was aware of even a hint of a brewing scandal about him.

  Instinct told him that Carrie’s reasons for being here were at least partly personal. The coincidence was too great to be explained any other way.

  He would discover her reasons in due course but rather than question her immediately, he decided he’d have some fun with her first. Let her suffer a little. It was the least she deserved.

  Did Carrie really think him such a useless human being that he required someone to live by his side pouring his drinks and mopping his brow? Andreas liked his creature comforts but he was no man-child and he’d seen the flicker of surprise in her eyes when he’d outlined the duties expected of her, duties he’d made up on the spur of the moment just to see what her reaction would be.

  For the next few days he would embrace the man-child role and make her wait on him hand and foot. She would hate every minute of it.

  Excellent.

  He would enjoy every minute of it.

  He watched her put aside the notepad she’d been scribbling on as she’d read through the folder and remove her phone from her handbag. She angled her body away from him and switched it on. A few moments later her shoulders rose and she tugged at her hair.

  Andreas grinned, enjoying her silent frustration to find it not working. He dealt with highly sensitive information. To get onto his jet’s network required a password. He wondered how long it would be before she cracked and asked for it.

  It took her three hours, an impressive length of time he thought, before she lifted her head, cleared her throat, and said, ‘Would it be possible for me to have the Wi-Fi password?’

  ‘I didn’t think you had anybody to check in with,’ he commented idly, enjoying the flush of colour that crawled up her slender neck.

  ‘I don’t,’ she said with only the smallest of hesitation. ‘I just wanted to check my emails.’

  ‘Expecting anything important?’

  She shook her head, her whole neck now aflame. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll check them later.’

  Carrie Rivers, Caroline Dunwoody, whatever her real name was, had a beautiful neck. He’d seen by her photograph that she was pretty but in the flesh she was so much more, her features softer, her skin dewy and golden. She was beautiful.

  He thought back to the slightly plump woman he’d caught that momentary glimpse of three years back. Her eyes had been striking enough for him to remember but at the time he’d been too angry to think properly let alone remember any other detail about her. He’d been angrier than he’d ever been. The previous evening, he’d come home early from a rare evening out to find his niece and her best friend off their heads on drink and drugs. What had followed later that night had been almost as bad.

  Taking guardianship of an orphaned teenage girl had never been easy but that weekend had been the hardest of his life, harder even than the night he’d received the call telling him his sister and brother-in-law had been found dead or the day he’d learned his parents faced financial ruin.

  Where was the manual that gave step-by-step guidance on how to handle the discovery that your niece, your responsibility, was creeping towards drug addiction, or how to handle waking to find your niece’s sixteen-year-old best friend naked in your bedroom intent on seducing you? Where had Violet learned that kind of behaviour? From her older sister? Was the seemingly prim and proper woman sitting just feet away from him as wanton and reckless as her sister had been?

  Despite his best attempts, he’d been unable to discover anything significant about Carrie. Her page on the Daily Times website listed her awards and achievements but nothing of a personal nature. He only knew her age because of their old personal links. Twenty-six. An incredibly young age to have achieved so much in her career. That took real commitment and dedication, something he would have admired had those traits not now been aimed at him. But unlike the men—and they had all been men—she’d brought down before him, Andreas had nothing to hide. His business was clean. So why had she set her sights on him? Why was the award-winning investigative journalist Carrie Rivers after him? Was this personal?

  Whatever the reasons, he would learn them and nip whatever trouble was brewing in the bud. The old maxim of keep your friends close but your enemies closer stood the test of time.

  Until he learned the truth, he would keep Carrie very close to him and then...

  And then,
unless he could think of a better plan than the one formulating in his head, Carrie would be kept close by his side for the foreseeable future.

  * * *

  It was dark when they landed. The early spring storms London had been dealing with were but a distant memory as Carrie disembarked Andreas’s jet and found herself engulfed in a heat the like of which she had only ever read about. She removed her jacket and looked up to find a cloudless black sky glittering with stars.

  ‘Where are we?’ She’d diligently read the folder Andreas had given her, pored over the location of all his homes and, as time had extended on their flight, convinced herself they were going to Tokyo.

  ‘The Seychelles.’ Andreas stood beside her. ‘Welcome to Mahe, the largest island of the Seychelles Granitic Archipelago.’

  Her mind turned frantically. How could she have missed a home in the Seychelles? She’d read his property folder from cover to cover three times, and there had been nothing about a home there in any of her prior investigations into him.

  ‘It’s the most private of my properties,’ he said in a low voice close to her ear. The tangy freshness of his expensive cologne swirled around her.

  Carrie casually sidestepped away from him and swallowed the sudden rush of moisture filling her mouth. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘One in the morning. We have a short flight on my helicopter before we reach my home.’

  They were whisked through security and within twenty minutes of landing were climbing into a sparkling helicopter.

  ‘Have you been in a helicopter before?’ Andreas asked as he strapped himself in beside her.

  There were six seats to choose from and he had to sit right next to her?

  Carrie shook her head and determinedly did not look at the thigh resting so close to her own she could feel its warmth on her skin.

  ‘It’s an enjoyable experience and the quickest way to my island.’

  ‘Your island?’