The greek wedding she ne.., p.1
The Greek Wedding She Never Had, page 1
Jace leaned back in his chair and appraised her from between his narrowed gaze.
“I assume the reason for your visit is to ask for more time to try to raise the money your brother owes me. My answer is no.”
“I need three months to restructure the company’s finances, and I should be able to pay back at least part of Mark’s debt,” she said urgently. “Surely you can wait three months?”
Jace’s eyes glittered. “I have waited for twenty years to take back what Kostas stole from my family.”
Eleanor stared at his hard-boned face and wondered how she had missed the ruthlessness beneath his charm a year ago. Love had blinded her, she acknowledged bitterly. Defeat tasted rancid in her mouth. “You want fifty percent of the Pangalos,” she muttered.
He nodded. “But the hotel is not all I want. I’ve raised the stakes.”
“What else can you possibly want from me?”
“Marriage.” He met her stunned expression with a smile that bared his white teeth and reminded Eleanor of a wolf. “I want you to marry me.”
Innocent Summer Brides
Now pronounced...a Greek’s wife!
The Buchanan sisters, Eleanor and Lissa, own and run the family boutique hotel portfolio along with their brother. And the luxury Greek island resort the Panaglos hotel is the jewel in their property crown. Only now they face losing it!
In fighting to save it, the two sisters find themselves face-to-face with two gorgeous yet enigmatic Greeks. And discover that the passion burning bright between them can lead in only one direction—down the aisle...
Discover why in...
The Greek Wedding She Never Had
Available now!
Lissa and Takis’s story
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Chantelle Shaw
The Greek Wedding She Never Had
Chantelle Shaw lives on the Kent coast and thinks up her stories while walking on the beach. She has been married for over thirty years and has six children. Her love affair with reading and writing Harlequin stories began as a teenager, and her first book was published in 2006. She likes strong-willed, slightly unusual characters. Chantelle also loves gardening, walking and wine.
Books by Chantelle Shaw
Harlequin Presents
The Virgin’s Sicilian Protector
Reunited by a Shock Pregnancy
Wed for the Spaniard’s Redemption
Proof of Their Forbidden Night
Her Wedding Night Negotiation
Housekeeper in the Headlines
Secret Heirs of Billionaires
Wed for His Secret Heir
The Saunderson Legacy
The Secret He Must Claim
The Throne He Must Take
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
For Oly, who will find his own solutions!
Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
EPILOGUE
EXCERPT FROM WAYS TO RUIN A ROYAL REPUTATION BY DANI COLLINS
PROLOGUE
A SHAFT OF evening sunlight slanting through the window struck the enormous diamond on Eleanor’s finger. Set on a platinum band, the square diamond sparkled with fiery brilliance as she held her hand out in front of her to admire the ring. Earlier in the day she’d gasped when Jace had opened a small velvet box to reveal an engagement ring.
They had been walking beside the Seine in Paris when he’d halted and turned to her. ‘Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife, pouláki mou?’ he had asked her softly.
For a few seconds Eleanor had been too shocked to reply, wondering if she had misunderstood him. Jace Zagorakis was a gorgeous Greek god and it seemed impossible that he had proposed marriage to her—ordinary Eleanor Buchanan. It was the stuff of fairy tales.
‘Do you really want to marry me?’ she’d stammered.
‘I do.’ His sexy smile had sent her heart shooting towards the stratosphere.
‘In that case, yes,’ she’d said joyfully, blinking back tears of happiness as he slid the ring onto her finger. ‘Oh, Jace, I love you so much,’ she’d murmured when he drew her into his arms. ‘Of course I’ll marry you.’
‘Good.’ There had been satisfaction in his voice before he’d claimed her lips in a kiss that left her breathless. ‘I would prefer a small wedding as soon as it can be arranged. There is no reason to wait and I am impatient to make you my bride.’
Eleanor had felt as if she were walking on air when they’d spent the afternoon strolling through the Tuileries Garden before heading back to their hotel in sight of the Eiffel Tower. She had returned to her own room to change for dinner.
Now she used the key card Jace had given her and entered his suite. There was no sign of him, but she was early and perhaps he was still dressing, or in the shower. Heat spread over her face as her imagination ran riot, fuelled by memories of his powerfully muscular physique when he had worn a pair of swim shorts on a yacht cruising around the northern Aegean islands two months ago.
Eleanor had been wildly attracted to him on the cruise and over the course of the following weeks, when he had flown to England from his home in Thessaloniki regularly to visit her, she had fallen in love with him. Incredibly, it seemed that Jace shared her feelings.
Crossing the lounge, she saw that the dining table was laid for an intimate dinner. There was a bottle of champagne on ice and a centrepiece of exquisite red roses. The flowers’ heady perfume filled the air. Red roses for love. Eleanor’s heart skipped a beat at the thought that Jace must have ordered the roses when he’d arranged for a celebration dinner to be served in his suite.
She placed the box of Greek pastries that she’d ordered, knowing they were his favourite, on the table. This was her first visit to Paris. When they had arrived that morning, before taking her sightseeing Jace had led her to a Greek café where they had been served tiny cups of strong black coffee and honey cakes. Eleanor had been amused to discover that ultra-sophisticated and frankly enigmatic business tycoon Jace Zagorakis had a weakness for sweet pastries.There were many more things she had yet to learn about her future husband, she mused. No doubt her grandfather would have advised against rushing into marriage after a whirlwind romance. But Kostas had died six months ago and, although Eleanor missed him, she felt a sense of freedom that she had not experienced while Pappoús had been the head of the family. Not that there were many members of her family left. Just her brother and sister, who resented that Kostas had named her his heir to the hotel business, Gilpin Leisure.
With a faint sigh, Eleanor dismissed thoughts of her problematic siblings. Today was the most wonderful day of her life and she was cocooned in a bubble of happiness. Glancing across the room, she saw through an open door a bedroom with a four-poster bed. Her heart gave a lurch of nervous anticipation. Tonight she planned to sleep with Jace, but it would be her first sexual experience. He was unaware that she was a virgin and she hoped he would not be disappointed.
When he kissed her the passion between them was electrifying, she reminded herself. Jace had awoken her desires, but he had been patient and not rushed her into sex. Now, though, she was eager to give herself to him and show her love for him with her body as well as her heart.
The prospect of losing her virginity did not worry Eleanor, but her old insecurities surfaced at the idea of being naked in front of Jace. He was bound to notice the scar on her back. It ran from the base of her neck all the way down her spine, the result of an operation when she was thirteen to correct a curvature of her spine. The condition, called scoliosis, had required surgery, where two titanium rods and numerous screws had been inserted in her back.
The surgery had been successful but she’d struggled with body image issues, especially when she had started dating, and a boyfriend had reacted with horror to her scar. Self-consciousness about her body was one reason why she had avoided serious relationships. Jace had broken through her reserve, but on the boat in Greece she’d worn a high-neck swimsuit or covered up with a sarong.
Her pulse leapt when she heard his gravelly, accented voice. The voile curtain across the open glass doors moved in the breeze and she glimpsed his tall figure standing on the suite’s private balcony. He was holding his phone in front of him and Eleanor realised that he was on a video call.
‘Takis, did you receive my message?’
‘I certainly did,’ replied a disembodied male voice. ‘I assume the announcement that you are engaged is a joke, seeing how you have always maintained that you are a die-hard bachelor with an aversion to marriage.’
‘The situation is not as it seems,’ Jace drawled.
Eleanor had started to walk back across the room, intending to wait out in the corridor until Jace had finished his conversation. But she hesitated, puzzled by his cynical tone. The two men were talking in Greek, which she spoke fluently, having been taught it by her grandfather.
‘So, you are actually engaged to Eleanor Buchanan.’ The man on the phone, Takis, sounded shocked. ‘Even t hough she is the granddaughter of Kostas Pangalos, who you despised when he was alive.’
‘My hatred of Kostas has not lessened since his death,’ Jace said in a harsh voice that Eleanor had never heard from him before.
She felt a sensation like an ice cube sliding down her spine. Her conscience urged her to leave. Jace wasn’t expecting her to arrive for another ten minutes and she should respect his privacy. But her feet were welded to the floor when Takis spoke again.
‘For years you’ve told me how Kostas swindled your father out of his share of their hotel, and Dimitri was financially ruined. So why on earth would you marry your enemy’s granddaughter?’ Takis sounded incredulous.
‘You know I tried to buy the Pangalos, before Kostas died, but he rejected my offer. When I heard that he’d left Eleanor in charge of Gilpin Leisure, I did not know if she was aware of the feud that had existed between my father and her grandfather,’ Jace said in a grim tone. ‘That’s why I asked you to approach her and try to persuade her to sell the Pangalos hotel.’
‘Having met Eleanor, I’ll admit I’m surprised by your choice of bride,’ Takis murmured. ‘I mean she is charming and pretty in an understated way, but she’s not the sex bomb type you usually go for. Her party-loving sister, on the other hand, is stunning, from photos I’ve seen of her in the media.’
Jace laughed, but it wasn’t his warm, sensual laugh that had attracted Eleanor to him when she’d first met him in Greece. He sounded cold and cynical.
‘It’s true that Eleanor is not an eye-catching peacock like her showy sister. She is more of an unremarkable sparrow. But my engagement to her is not a love-match.’
Eleanor gave a choked cry. She felt numb with shock and it was as if her lungs were being crushed in a vice, making it agony to breathe. Jace often called her pouláki mou, which in English meant ‘my little bird’. She had believed that his pet name for her was a sign of his affection. But he had compared her to a boring brown sparrow! As if that wasn’t hurtful enough, he evidently thought her sister Lissa was attractive.
The pain in Eleanor’s chest felt as though an arrow had pierced her heart. Jace loved her, she assured herself frantically. Why else would he have asked her to marry him?
But he hadn’t actually said how he felt about her.
Doubt slid like a poisonous serpent into her head as she acknowledged that he had never uttered the three little words she longed to hear. When she had told him that she loved him, Jace had responded by drawing her into his arms and kissing her until she’d trembled with desire. But she had just heard him say that she was unremarkable.
She stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the wall and the scales fell from her eyes. Her new dress that she’d rushed out and bought when Jace had invited her to spend the weekend with him was a romantic froth of pink tulle, but it wasn’t glamorous. She had tied her long hair back with a matching pink ribbon. The dress’s sweetheart neckline was more daring than her usual restrained style, and before coming to meet Jace she had lost her nerve and covered up with a cardigan.
Compared to the elegant Parisian women Eleanor had noticed shopping on the Champs-Elysées, and who had no doubt caught Jace’s eye, she was neither sophisticated nor sexy. In truth, she had wondered why he was attracted to her. It turned out that he’d been lying to her all along. Nausea churned in the pit of Eleanor’s stomach. She had taken extra care putting on her make-up, but now tears spilled from her eyes and two black tracks of mascara ran down her cheeks.
She recalled that a few weeks after her grandfather had suffered a fatal heart attack, a man had come to Francine’s—the hotel in Oxford owned by Gilpin Leisure—and introduced himself as Takis Samaras, CEO of a Greek luxury hotel chain, Perseus. He had been very keen to buy the Pangalos, but she’d told him she had no intention of selling any of Gilpin Leisure’s assets.
Now she knew that Jace wanted the hotel and he did not care about her. She was devastated to discover what he really thought of her and she wanted to run away and hide like a wounded animal, but she forced herself to remain where she stood when he spoke again.
‘Marriage to Eleanor is the only way I can claim back the hotel that her grandfather took from my father. I have discovered that a clause in Kostas’s will stipulates that the Pangalos must remain within the family’s ownership.’ Jace swore. ‘The wily old fox must have gloated, believing he had prevented me from getting my hands on the hotel that by rights should be half mine. But I met his granddaughter and it was easy to make Eleanor fall in love with me.’
* * *
Jace pocketed his phone and strode across the balcony. He’d heard a faint sound from inside his suite and through the voile curtain he glimpsed a shadowy figure. There was the faint click of a door closing and when he stepped into the room there was no one there.
His frown cleared when he saw on the table a cake box with the name of a Greek bakery on the lid, and he guessed that one of the hotel’s staff had delivered it to his suite. He opened the box and smiled, certain that Eleanor was responsible for ordering the selection of sweet treats: baklava, loukoumades and his particular favourite, kataifi—little pastries drenched in almond syrup.
Jace drank alcohol in moderation and he had never taken drugs, but he had confessed to Eleanor that he had a sweet tooth. It was typical of her to have remembered and arranged the thoughtful gift. He ran his hand over the stubble on his jaw and swore beneath his breath as he thought of his diffident fiancée.
Two months ago, Jace had decided on a whim to visit the Pangalos Beach Resort on Sithonia, a peninsular in the region of Halkidiki in northern Greece. It was the first time he had returned to the hotel since he was eleven years old, and he’d been swamped by bitter memories of how he and his parents had been forcibly evicted from the building by Kostas’s security staff.
The Pangalos had been extensively refurbished, and inside it was almost unrecognisable. But when Jace had stepped into the lobby he’d pictured his mother and father standing arm in arm, waiting to greet guests. It was the personal touches that made families return year after year, Jace’s father had insisted. Guests who stayed at the Pangorakis hotel, which had been its name back then, were made to feel as though they were part of a big, happy family.
But Kostas had been determined to attract a different class of clientele: the super-rich, who wanted five-star luxury and were prepared to pay for it. Arguments about the future direction of the hotel had led to a breakdown in the two men’s friendship, and Kostas, backed by money from his wealthy English wife and aided by influential Greek friends, had seized control of the Pangorakis, later changing its name to the Pangalos.
Six months ago Kostas had died suddenly and, to everyone’s surprise, he had left his granddaughter Eleanor in charge of Gilpin Leisure. The company owned an upmarket boutique hotel, Francine’s, in Oxford, and the Pangalos Beach Resort in Greece. By all accounts, Eleanor’s older brother, Mark Buchanan, had been furious at being overlooked by his grandfather. Eleanor had appointed him as General Manager of the Pangalos, but Jace had heard rumours that Mark was more interested in playing blackjack in the casino than managing the hotel.
When Jace had strolled across the pool terrace he’d taken scant notice of a young woman sitting on a sun lounger, her head bowed over a book. But he’d overheard a waiter who had brought her a drink saying, ‘Will that be all, Miss Buchanan?’
The name had caught Jace’s attention and he’d recognised Eleanor from a newspaper photo when her grandfather’s death had been announced. Nondescript was his first opinion of her. Dark blonde hair pulled back from an unprepossessing face. Pale skin, turning pink on her shoulders from the sun. Good legs, he’d noted, before skimming his eyes over her shapely figure.
She was wearing a one-piece swimsuit that covered her body from neck to thigh but nevertheless did not disguise the gentle curves of her hips and the firm swell of her breasts. Oddly, Jace had found her modest costume more alluring than the skimpy bikinis worn by other women sunbathing by the pool. In his opinion, the unknown was intriguing, rather like a birthday present that was still wrapped.
