‘Hey, baby, I’m dying of thirst over here!’
More raucous laughter around the table snapped Kate back to the job she was supposed to be doing.
‘Get that pretty little ass of yours around here and refill my glass.’
‘Yes, sir, of course.’ Silently seething, Kate cautiously sidled around the table, keeping her back to Nikos as best she could.
‘Whassup, honey? You scared of me?’ The man stretched out his arm, snaking it around Kate’s waist to pull her closer. ’Cos you know, there ain’t no need for that. I’m nice as pie. You ask anyone.’ More drunken hee-hawing. ‘Why don’t you come sit on my lap and I’ll show you just how nice I can be?’
Taking a step back, Kate gripped the neck of the champagne bottle tightly enough to throttle it. It was a poor substitute for what she would have liked to throttle, but it would have to do.
‘I’m not paid to sit down.’ She feigned a light-hearted remark through gritted teeth.
‘No? Well, I’m sure we could make it worth your while. Whaddya you say, guys?’
The man lurched forward, knocking Kate off balance so that she stumbled, falling towards him. She tried to right herself, to pull away, but he was too strong for her and before she knew it he had tugged her firmly down onto his lap, spreading his legs to accommodate her, his alcohol-soaked breath belching into her face. And when he adjusted his position, pressing her down onto his crotch, she genuinely thought she was going to be sick.
No job was worth this. No amount of money would compensate for being treated like a piece of meat.
For God’s sake Kate, she told herself, dragging in a breath, have a bit of self-respect.
But she mustn’t make a scene. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself—not with Nikos across the other side of the room. Extricating herself as carefully as possible, her stomach roiling as her movement only served to arouse her captor more, she put the champagne bottle down on the table and started to lever herself away from him.
‘Oh, no, you don’t.’ He pulled her back down, his foul breath in her ear. ‘I’m just startin’ to enjoy myself. You can probably tell...’
* * *
From the other side of the glittering dining room, Nikos narrowed his eyes, turning in his chair to get a better look. Something about that young woman was very familiar, making him stare long and hard. Making his pulse beat faster too, if he would but admit it. It couldn’t be...could it?
He’d watched as she moved around her table, filling the glasses of rowdy guests who had already had way too much. With her back to him, and quite some distance away, he didn’t have much to go on—and the mane of blonde curls was telling him he must be mistaken. But as he’d watched she had raised a hand to touch her earlobe, tugging on it gently in an unconscious display of vulnerability the way he had seen her do a hundred times before.
And then Nikos had known without a shadow of doubt.
It was her.
Kate O’Connor.
He’d sat back in his chair, waiting for his heart-rate to steady. Of all the gin joints... It almost felt as if he’d conjured her up from his mind. Because Kate O’Connor had been very much on his mind lately. Hadn’t he had just flown five thousand miles to see her? The prospect of ambushing her in her office the following morning had brought him a twisted sort of pleasure that had made the journey almost enjoyable.
And now here she was, right in front of him, a vision in tart’s clothing. Never would he have expected to find Kate in a place like this, looking like that. He wouldn’t be here himself if he hadn’t been talked into it by a business associate who had insisted they would talk shop over dinner. One look at the place and he’d almost turned around there and then. But something had made him stay. It must have been a sixth sense.
Unable to tear his gaze way, Nikos had watched on as one guy had slid an arm around Kate’s waist, pulling her closer. He’d felt his hands ball into fists. Steady, now. This was none of his business. Maybe it was all part of the service.
He had waited for some sense of satisfaction to kick in, for a feeling of gratification at seeing what Kate had been reduced to to warm his dry bones. But, strangely, there was none to be had. Nikos could find no consolation in her downfall.
He wanted to. Badly. He wanted to enjoy every minute of this degrading spectacle—to revel in it and to feel it thawing the very core of him. A core that had hardened like stone in the years since their bitter break-up.
But now, as he watched her sliding onto some creep’s lap, the emotion rising in his gullet had nothing to do with comfort or consolation. It was pure rage—so bitter and acrid that it burnt his throat with its vicious bile.
Because Kate O’Connor was his. Or at least she soon would be.
Downing the last of his whisky in one burning gulp, Nikos forced himself to calm down. His every instinct was screaming at him to cross the room, haul Kate off the lap of that revolting sleazeball, fling her over his shoulder and carry her out of this place.
His body positively twitched with the effort of stopping himself. But stop himself he would. Because Nikos was cleverer than that. He was here to claim his ex-fiancée and finally she would do his bidding. She just didn’t know it yet. But right now, it was time to leave.
* * *
Back in her tiny apartment, Kate sprawled down on the bed, burying her face in the covers. That had been one of the most humiliating nights of her life—and lately she’d had a few.
Pulling herself upright, she shifted along the bed and swung her legs over the end, leaning forward to prop her elbows on the top of the dresser. This place was so small that during her first week there she’d had to battle against claustrophobic panic attacks in the middle of the night.
But that had long since passed and she had become used to it. Her spacious penthouse condominium at the top of KK Towers—her family home before it had all gone so badly wrong—was now not much more than a distant memory.
She peered at herself in the mirror, wincing at the sight that met her eyes. She hardly recognised the heavily made-up blonde who stared back at her—which was all to the good. Because that person wasn’t her. She was just a means to an end. An end that couldn’t come fast enough for Kate.
Raising her hand, she grasped a fistful of hair and lifted up the blonde wig, tossing it to one side. She shook her head, running her fingers through her short dark hair before regarding herself again. Better. She had worn this style for over a year now, her decision to crop her long chestnut hair having been an attempt to present a more businesslike, serious persona.
The business might still bear her name, but Kate was no longer the happy, rosy-cheeked kid who had promoted the brand throughout her childhood—whose chestnut plaits and gap-toothed smile had helped to sell several million candy bars and made Kate instantly recognisable.
Now Kate was all grown up. And as head of the Kandy Kate empire it fell to her to stop the rot and save the company. To keep production running. Which meant generating the cash flow needed to pay their suppliers. And looking after the staff—some of whom had been with the company right from the start, who were more like family.
They were loyal employees, who had stood by Kandy Kate through bad times and even worse times, taking a salary cut, sometimes no salary at all, because they had loved her dad. Because they had faith that Kate would get the company back on track...see them right.
And Kate was absolutely determined she wasn’t going to let them down. Somehow she was going to save Kandy Kate—even if she didn’t have a clue how she was going to do it.
Peeling off the hateful false eyelashes, she blinked with relief, then set about scrubbing away her heavy make-up before heading for the shower. She felt soiled, unclean, and the pummelling hot water was doing nothing to remove the scent of the evening that seemed to have crept under her skin, into her pores. But at least she had manag
ed to stick it out until the end, so that would mean she’d get paid.
And, more importantly, she had avoided being recognised by Nikos. That alone made her awful disguise worthwhile.
After finally managing to extricate herself from that creep’s lap, she had shot a panicked glance in Nikos’s direction, sick with dread that he might have witnessed the humiliating scene. But to her immense relief he had gone—vanished. A quick, hopeful glance around her revealed no sign of him, and when his seat had still been empty twenty minutes later Kate had finally let herself breathe.
She had got away with it. Because if Nikos had recognised her he wouldn’t have been able to resist storming over, nailing her with those piercing ebony eyes and watching her squirm with embarrassment. Gloating over how the mighty had fallen.
Because fall she had—from a great height. After Kate’s father had died she and her mother had been left in joint control of Kandy Kate, and between them they had brought the business to its knees. The combination of Fiona O’Connor’s erratic decisions and Kate’s naivety had rapidly turned the thriving, much-loved brand—a household name—into a company on the brink of bankruptcy.
Too late Kate had realised that her mother wasn’t mentally strong enough to have taken on such a weighty responsibility. But by then the Kandy Kate name had already been dragged through the mud—no longer associated with traditional values and a wholesome image but rocked by indiscreet comments from the new boss.
Convinced she knew best, Fiona had waltzed into the office on her first day like an impending storm, immediately making ridiculous demands and crazy decisions. The board had tried to overrule her, but Fiona would have none of it, convinced that they were just being obstructive because they didn’t like her. It had got so bad that anyone who’d tried to stand up to her had been fired on the spot, with senior executives told to clear their desks there and then.
As the carnage had continued Kate had begged her mother to step down, to leave the running of the company to her—for the sake of Fiona’s mental health as well as for the business. But as it had turned out leaving Kandy Kate in her hands had been even worse. Failing to keep a check on the new finance director—appointed by Fiona after the previous one had walked out in protest—Kate had signed papers without looking at them properly and delegated power to him, completely unaware of his fraudulent intentions.
Gullibility, lack of experience, and the fact that Kate had been way out of her depth had cost the company dear. Within months the con man had syphoned off vast quantities of money, leaving Kandy Kate in a more desperate state than ever.
Nearly three years had passed since then, and Kate had wised up considerably. But despite her best efforts—despite selling off just about every asset that Kandy Kate had had left, working all the hours that God sent, begging, borrowing and pleading with banks, investors, and anyone else who might be prepared to pour some serious capital into the business—Kate had got nowhere.
The sad fact was that Kate’s eponymous business was still in a dire state. And, short of a miracle, there was nothing she could do to repair it.
The press, of course, were lapping it up. Fiona O’Connor had always been good tabloid fodder, with her expensive tastes and her erratic outbursts. But, as the face of Kandy Kate, Kate herself was the real prize. Hounded by the press all her life, she never knew when she was going to be snapped by a lone pap, hoping to make a few dollars out of her—though why anyone should be remotely interested in seeing her buying a few groceries in the local deli or snatching a coffee on her way to work she had no idea.
Events like the Executives’ Club, however, were a different matter. Which was why Kate made sure she concealed her identity with a false name, a blonde wig and more make-up than a three-year-old at a clown convention.
Getting into bed, she pulled the covers under her chin.
Maybe it was time to give up. This morning she’d discovered there had been a surge in the price of Kandy Kate’s shares, and that meant only one thing. Someone was planning a hostile takeover. Which was all she needed.
Kate had hoped she might be able to glean some information as to who might be behind the takeover from some of guests at the Executives’ Club. Obviously she’d had to make sure she didn’t reveal who she was, but successful businessmen loved to brag and champagne loosened their tongues. Unfortunately it also loosened their hands, and Kate had found them far more interested in stroking her butt or staring down her cleavage than giving her the lowdown on the latest gossip from the trading floor.
Closing her eyes, Kate willed herself to go to sleep. She was dog-tired...physically and emotionally drained. But sleep refused to come. Instead, Nikos’s powerful image filled her vision, crowding her mind, snapping her eyes open again.
The acute shock of seeing him tonight still held her body in a rigid grip. The three years since she had last seen him had vanished like vapour the second she had set eyes on him again. One glance at that handsome face and the memories of their break-up had come flooding back: the fight, the things they had said...horrible, hateful, brutal words...all recalled with vivid clarity. She felt as if time had simply distilled the pain, making it even more potent as it sank its vicious claws into her once again.
When Nikos had left her, Kate’s whole world had collapsed. Her hopes and dreams had crumbled before her eyes—built, as it turned out, on nothing more substantial than the shifting sands of blind optimism and unguarded love. She had fallen into a place so deep, so dark, that she had feared she would never see the light again.
But somehow she had clawed her way back up. Somehow she had survived.
As she stared up at the peeling paintwork of the ceiling Kate conceded that their relationship had been doomed from the start. The cracks had always been there—just ignored in the first wild rush of all-consuming passion. A time when anything had seemed possible.
She hadn’t been totally blameless. By choosing to play down her family’s wealth and lavish lifestyle she had been guilty of deceiving Nikos. It had been a selfish act, but the relief of being free from the shackles of Kandy Kate that had dominated her whole life had been so wonderful, so liberating, she had lied by omission just to try and keep it that way for as long as possible.
Just for a while she had wanted to be Kate O’Connor—a regular kind of girl from an ordinary background, who happened to have been fortunate enough to fall in love with the most wonderful guy in the world.
But the flipside had meant she’d failed to mention Nikos to her parents. Far less the fact that she had rushed headlong into an engagement with him. That she intended to marry the remarkable Greek man as soon as possible.
Because Kate had known full well the ruckus it would cause. She knew her mother would hit the roof and insist that the engagement was broken off immediately—that there was no way she was going to allow her daughter to marry some penniless Greek bum. And then her poor father would be dragged into it, torn between the two women in his life the way he always was, doing his best to keep the peace.
Kate had decided that she was going to keep the engagement a secret for as long as she could. But when news had arrived that her father had been taken seriously ill her little secret had suddenly begun to grow, to take on a life of its own.
As she’d rushed to make plans to return to New York Nikos had assumed he would be going with her. But Kate hadn’t been able to let that happen. Her parents hadn’t even known of his existence—she couldn’t arrive back home with him by her side, knowing the way her mother would react and risking damaging her father’s fragile health still further.
So she had insisted Nikos stayed behind in Crete. She could still remember the look of hurt on his face when she’d told him. Standing there in the Greek sunshine, so tall and proud, his dark brows pulling together in surprise, his features had set like stone.
It had all but broken her heart, but Kate had stood firm, slinging her rucksa
ck over her shoulder and turning away when all she’d wanted to do was to fall into his arms and stay there for ever.
If she had come clean there and then, confessed everything, would things have turned out differently?
Kate had gone over that moment in her head a thousand times. But the fact was she hadn’t. And as Nikos’s hurt had quickly turned to a carefully controlled anger, a cold cloud of animosity had descended over them as they’d said their goodbyes.
Nikos’s dry peck on her cheek had only accentuated the widening rift between them.
Her father had died two weeks later. And in the melee of trying to organise everything—taking care of her mother, who had always suffered from fragile mental health, as well as coping with her own crippling grief—suddenly Nikos had arrived. Unannounced. Uninvited. And even though her heart had leapt at the sight of him—even though he had been the person Kate had wanted to see more than anyone else in the world, needed more than anyone else in the world—she had panicked.
Hadn’t she expressly told him not to come? His arrival was going to cause nothing but trouble. And that trouble had started almost immediately.
Within minutes her guilty secret had been exposed. Dropping his bag, Nikos had looked around the luxurious apartment with a puzzled expression on his face before pulling her into a stiff hug.
With immaculate timing Fiona O’Connor had walked in at that precise moment, demanding to know who this person was. And as Nikos had stepped forward to offer his condolences, and to introduce himself as Kate’s fiancé, she had let out a little scream, her hand fluttering to her throat.
Kate had had no choice but to try and do whatever she could to mitigate the damage, to calm Fiona down. Even though that had meant pushing Nikos away.
Claiming His Replacement Queen Page 17
