The Greek Tycoon's Secret Child Read online

  Three nights ago it had felt damned good to yell at someone and she was going to do that now. This time at the right person instead of at a perfect stranger who had happened to rub her up the wrong way. A perfect stranger who had, unsurprisingly, not reappeared at her exciting little workplace, even though she had caught herself watching out for him, and then berating herself for letting him get under her skin when she had figured him out for what he was.

  ‘Well?’ Mattie went to the kitchen door and leaned against the frame, her eyes stormy, watching as Frankie helped himself to another lager, which he proceeded to drink straight from the can.

  ‘I can’t be bothered to argue this one with you, Mats. Why don’t you just head back to those books of yours and carry on pretending you can get somewhere in life?’

  ‘No! I want to have this one out, Frankie. I’m sick to death of all your slurs and insults. I couldn’t stick it out in that job because the money wasn’t enough to keep us both!’ She had tiptoed round this long enough.

  ‘I suppose you blame me for the accident!’

  ‘I don’t blame you for anything! But that was nearly two years ago! So isn’t it about time you just woke up to the fact that you will never become a professional footballer? It’s over, Frankie! You need to get your head around that and—’

  ‘Know what, Mats? I don’t need to stand here and listen to all of this! I’m off.’

  She felt tears of frustration prick the backs of her eyes, but she stayed where she was, blocking the doorway.

  ‘You need to get a job, Frankie.’

  He slammed the half-empty beer can on the kitchen table and lager shot out of the top over the table-top.

  ‘An office job, Mats? Think I should get myself decked out in a cheap suit and see if anyone wants me?’

  ‘It doesn’t have to be an office job.’

  ‘Well, then, maybe a job like yours, then, eh?’

  ‘That job happens to pay five times what I was getting as a secretary and a hundred times more than I was getting working at that restaurant.’

  ‘So you could take time off and study those books of yours. As if you’ll ever be able to do anything in any company.’

  ‘Well, it didn’t last long, did it? I had to jack that in so that I could get something better paid to pay the bills you have no intention of paying because you won’t get a job!’

  ‘Know what? If you feel that way, why don’t you just clear off, Mats?’ His blue eyes met hers and he looked away.

  ‘Maybe I will,’ she said, turning away, only half hearing him as he apologised. Again. Told her he needed her. Again. Slammed his way out of the house. Again.

  They both knew that the end of their relationship had already arrived, had arrived quite some time ago, as it happened. But Mattie knew how hard it was to say goodbye to history, to memories of them both as teenagers, when they had had high hopes of going places. Just as she knew that the only glue keeping them together, as far as she was concerned anyway, was pity.

  His star had been so promising, and then when the accident happened she had just felt so damned sorry for him, too sorry to take the final step and walk away even though she could see how he had changed, how they both had.

  He was enraged and bitter at what fate had done to him but even those spells of anguish, of opening up to her, communicating, had dwindled away. She realised that they hadn’t really communicated in months.

  Not, she thought as she tidied away her books and began getting dressed to leave the house, since he had broken down and sobbed like a baby on her shoulder over eight months ago. When yet again she had allowed herself to feel sorry for him, to struggle on with him, knowing that he needed her.

  She had, after all, known him for such a long time.

  In a way, the nightclub was just the right job for her, quite aside from the fantastic earnings.

  There was no time to think about her own problems when she was busy scuttling around the tables, catching up with the other girls now and again so that they could share a giggle about their customers.

  But their argument tonight had been different. Had had an edge to it that they had both felt.

  Two hours later her mind was still harking back to it, when she looked up and there he was, the man, the stranger, sitting on his own at the back of the room, and her heart gave a sudden, illogical leap of pleasure which disappeared as fast as it had come.

  How long had he been sitting there?

  And now that she had spotted him, she became acutely conscious of her every movement until finally she had no choice but to walk towards him, even though he wasn’t seated in her patch.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I told you I would return,’ he asked with the same slightly amused, lazy drawl that sent a shiver up her spine. ‘Missed me?’

  ‘Of course I haven’t missed you, and I also thought I’d made my position clear. I’m not for sale along with the drinks and the food.’ And, since there was no more to be said on the subject, she knew that she should just spin round on her heel and walk away, leaving him ample time to get the message once and for all. But she didn’t. She hesitated.

  ‘Why don’t we leave here and go somewhere a little more civilised for some coffee? I know a particularly good coffee bar that’s open all hours.’

  ‘A coffee bar that’s open all hours? Oh, please! And where would that be? On another planet?’

  ‘Actually, in a hotel that caters for men like me. Not, I might add, the lying pervert you categorised me as but a workaholic who keeps highly irregular hours.’ He raised one eyebrow, leaned back into his chair and proceeded to watch her very intently.

  ‘I don’t think so. Thanks all the same.’

  ‘You look exhausted.’

  Three words that made her stop in her tracks, brought back the flood of memories of what had taken place between her and Frankie. Right now, there wasn’t a nook or cranny in her life that wasn’t exhausting. How had he spotted that when no one else had?

  ‘There are one or two reasons why that’s totally out of the question,’ Mattie said tartly. ‘And if you choose to disregard the ones I’ve already given you, then here are a couple more. I’ve only been here for an hour and a half and this is my job. Sorry.’

  ‘It occurred to me,’ Dominic said, sweeping past her little speech as if it was of no consequence, ‘that I don’t even know your name. What is it?’

  ‘Look. I have to go. Jackie will hit the roof if she thinks I’m muscling in on her customers.’

  ‘Why do you work in a place like this?’

  ‘I already told you. Now, goodbye.’

  ‘I’ll meet you at the exit in half an hour.’ He stood up, finished his drink and looked down at her. ‘Right?’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere with you! How much does it take to get through that thick skull of yours?’

  ‘I’ll sort it out with your boss.’

  Mattie gave a short, dry laugh. ‘Oh, right. And how do you propose to do that? Put a gun to his head, by any chance?’

  ‘I’ve always found that strong-arm tactics never work.’ His dark eyes locked with hers and he felt that sudden surge of unexplained excitement once again. The same excitement that had coursed through him whenever she crossed his mind. Which she had done with puzzling regularity over the past few days.

  Why? Logic told him that if all he wanted was a safe and enjoyable antidote to Rosalind, then he could find that anywhere. He certainly didn’t need to pursue a woman who had made her feelings patently clear from the word go. But logic was no match for what he could only put down to the thrill of a challenge, and challenge, he had grudgingly admitted, was certainly what she was.

  Hence his reason for returning to the nightclub.

  ‘Leave it to me.’

  Leave it to him! Well, why not? He didn’t know Harry and he obviously had no idea how strict nightclub bosses were when it came to their girls not skipping off work.

  ‘Sure.’ She shot him a caustic
grin. ‘If you can pull that one off, then I’ll come with you to your coffee bar, by all means. But, since I don’t see that happening, I’ll just bid you goodnight and tell you that it’s no use your coming back here because the next time you won’t even get a conversation out of me.’

  It was a little disconcerting to feel a tug of regret at the thought of that, but Mattie was nothing if not practical. Her life was just too full of problems for her to take another one on board in the shape of a man, probably married, because good-looking, well-spoken men like that were never single, who was after a little no-strings-attached fling with a pretty young thing.

  She would make sure not to look in his direction again.

  What she hadn’t bargained on was Harry calling her over ten minutes later as she was on her way back for a refill of champagne for a table of men who had already had far too much to drink.

  ‘I what?’ Mattie stammered, after he had said what he had to say.

  ‘Can take the rest of the evening off.’

  ‘I’ve just got here, Harry.’

  ‘Jacks won’t mind covering your patch. She needs to catch up on some lost earnings.’

  ‘How did he do it?’ Mattie glanced around her, seeking him out in the darkness and through the crowds, then finally returning her narrowed eyes to Harry’s flushed face. ‘Well?’ she demanded. Then a thought crossed her mind. ‘He didn’t…he isn’t…some kind of dangerous thug, is he, Harry? He didn’t threaten you, did he?’ She thought back to her throw-away remark about guns and heads.

  ‘Threaten me? Harry Alfonso Roberto Sidwell?’ He rocked on the balls of his feet for a few seconds, straightened the lapels of his jacket and gave her a superior look. ‘No one has ever dared do such a thing, Matilda Hayes, and don’t you forget it! No. Just said he wanted to talk to you, that this seemed the only time you could snatch. Gave me his card. Told me that if I ever needed any advice, just ask for him.’

  ‘Advice? Advice about what?’ She felt as if the ground had unexpectedly opened up from under her feet. ‘Relationships? Is he some kind of counsellor or something?’

  ‘Harry Sidwell has never needed advice on relationships! He’s in finance, Mats. Powerful man. Even I’ve heard of him and you know how much distance there is between the underbelly of life here and the Olympic heights of some of those money men.’ He chuckled at his own sense of humour but Mattie’s head was reeling with shock.

  ‘You’re giving me the night off because some man asked you to and handed over a business card? And what about my tips, Harry? I can’t afford to take the time off! You know how much I need the money!’

  ‘I’ll cover you, Mats. Give you roughly the amount you usually pull in on a Friday. Don’t say I’m not fair.’

  ‘I can’t—’

  ‘You deserve a night off, Mattie. Reliable as clock-work, you are. Never let me down. When was the last time you went out for enjoyment? Eh? When you’re not at college or poring over textbooks, you’re here. And you’d be doing me a favour, love.’

  ‘How’s that, Harry?’

  ‘Thinking of expanding business, Mats. Might need that business card sooner than you think.’ He grinned craftily, and Mattie felt her options closing in.

  ‘He’s after one thing, Harry. Thanks very much!’

  ‘You’re safe with that one.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be safe with anybody who comes here, and you know it!’

  ‘You’re safe with that one, Mats. I wouldn’t be giving you the evening off otherwise. He’s a big cheese. He wouldn’t make a nuisance of himself because he’s too high-profile. Would never risk a scandal. If he says he wants to talk, then that’s all he’ll do. Unless…’

  ‘Unless what?’

  ‘Unless you decide otherwise…’

  ‘Fat chance.’

  ‘Then what’s the problem? Free evening? Enjoy yourself. Now, you go change, darling. Busy, busy, busy here tonight. No time to stop and have a prolonged chat.’

  But she didn’t like the feeling of being manipulated. Even if it did feel good to have an evening to herself. No books, no nightclub. No Frankie.

  If she got to the door and discovered that he had changed his mind, all the better. She’d play truant and skip one evening’s work and find herself some twenty-four-hour place where she could just sit and be at peace with her thoughts. Going back to the house was not an option, even though Frankie wouldn’t be there. Just being within those four walls was enough to make her feel suffocated.

  But he was there. Waiting. Just as he had promised. Tall, impossibly handsome and looking at her with an expression she couldn’t read, which made her feel more apprehensive rather than less. Apprehensive and somehow…alert. Alive.

  ‘How did you pull that off?’ was the first thing she asked, glaring.

  Like an angry cat, he thought. An angry cat that he had got it into his head he wanted to tame. An angry cat that would jump six feet into the air if he so much as touched her, even if the touch was strictly polite. He pushed open the door and stood back so that she could brush past him.

  ‘Didn’t Harry tell you?’ Dominic asked curiously, making sure not to invade her space.

  ‘He said you gave him your business card. He said you were someone important in the City.’ Mattie regarded him levelly, with hostile suspicion. ‘I don’t care how important you are, you know the ground rules.’

  ‘But not your name.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I know the ground rules, but I still don’t know your name.’

  ‘Matilda.’

  ‘Matilda. You don’t look like a Matilda,’ he said in an amused voice, and her back stiffened.

  ‘No. And what do I look like? Something a little fluffier? A Candy, perhaps? Maybe fluffier still?’

  ‘Are you always on the defensive? Matilda?’

  ‘Mattie,’ Mattie muttered. ‘Everyone calls me Mattie. I hate the name Matilda.’ She blushed at this unnecessary volunteering of information, even though it was hardly a state secret.

  ‘Why?’

  She shrugged, as he knew she would, just as he knew that she hated having let slip the innocuous detail because it was of a personal nature.

  ‘Well, Mattie,’ he stretched out one arm to hail a taxi, and as it slowed down to pull up to them he said with deadly seriousness, ‘we’re going to have to get in a cab together to go to this hotel…’

  ‘Hotel? Oh, no. No, no.’ She began backing away and Dominic clicked his tongue in impatience.

  ‘I said hotel. I didn’t say hotel room. We’re going to a hotel in Covent Garden that I often use when I’m working late. There’s a bar downstairs and it’s guaranteed to be full.’ But her big green eyes were still watching him warily, and he had to fight the urge to just reach out and smooth her ruffled feathers.

  He, who had never had to try when it came to the opposite sex, could scarcely believe that he was now willing, at some ungodly time of the evening, to bide his time.

  ‘Now, are you going to come with me or not? If not, then you can rest assured that you won’t see me again. If you do decide to come, then you’ll just have to swallow your misgivings and climb into this taxi with me. Make your mind up.’

  He saw the debate flitting across her face and wondered what he would do if she walked away. Wondered what had brought him to this juncture in the first place.

  Fate? A certain boredom with the women he was used to? A need to erase Rosalind by having an affair with someone dramatically different from her in every possible way? Something else? No, nothing else, he told himself.

  But whatever the outcome of her internal debate, he wasn’t going to chase after her. He had already behaved out of character as far as she was concerned, and he wasn’t going to do it again.

  ‘OK.’ Mattie shrugged and, when she reached out to open the door, found that he was there before her, opening it for her. It was a gesture to which she wasn’t accustomed. Frankie was not an opening-car-doors-for-women kind of man.

  Stil
l, she made sure to wriggle up to the furthest side of the seat when he stooped to join her, and was immediately glad of it because, even at this distance, she still felt chokingly aware of him.

  ‘I don’t know your name,’ she said, as the taxi pulled away.

  He noticed the way she was huddled against the door, as if scared that he might do something unexpected at any given moment, and he, in turn, made sure to keep a safe distance between them.

  ‘Dominic Drecos.’

  ‘Dominic Drecos,’ Mattie repeated, thinking hard. ‘And you’re something important in the City, are you?’

  ‘Something important, yes.’ She didn’t sound overly impressed with that and he found himself giving in to a childish desire to expand. ‘I deal in corporate finance. We handle mergers and acquisitions. In addition, I speculate in property. Buy to renovate to sell.’

  ‘Right.’ She turned to gaze out of the window. In this part of London, it was never dark. Too many lights and billboards. It was a rolling scenery she was familiar with, but for some reason she found it easier to stare at the images moving past than at the man sitting on the seat next to her.

  He was the first man she had had a proper conversation with in a very long time. She attended her courses during the day but did none of the student socialising that most of the others did and talking to the customers at the nightclub was strictly out of the question. There had just been Frankie. And she and Frankie no longer conversed on any meaningful level.

  ‘So you don’t live here, then, I take it?’ She reluctantly looked at him and, for one crazy moment, wondered what he looked like underneath the expensive suit and that crisp striped shirt he was wearing under it. Then she blinked and she was back in the taxi, a nightclub waitress with a boyfriend, sitting next to someone important in the City.

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Well, if you did, then why would you go to a hotel when you happened to be working late?’

  ‘I have an apartment in Chelsea. But this particular hotel does very late suppers and occasionally we might come across here to wind up a deal and eat at the same time.’