Ruthless Greek Boss, Secretary Mistress. Эбби Грин

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      This is for Ann and Iona—getting to number ten wouldn’t have been half the amazing journey it’s been without either one of you by my side. I’m indebted to both of you wonderful ladies and writers, and am looking forward to all of our shared experiences to come! With much thanks and love, for everything.

      Chapter One

      ‘YOU’RE the coldest man I ever met. If you have a heart it’s made of stone. You’re cruel and contemptible. I hate you.’ The woman’s strident voice quivered dangerously on the last word and came through the heavy oak door with effortless ease.

      There was silence, and then the ominously low rumble of a man’s voice. Short, sharp, succinct. Lucy could imagine only too well the glacial look that was most likely accompanying those indistinct words. She sighed as she heard the woman splutter indignantly, but then she was off again, her voice rising so high now that Lucy feared for the crystal decanter on the drinks board nearby. While Lucy was new to these scenes first-hand, she had to reflect that the rumours she’d heard over the past two years hadn’t been a myth after all. The voice was drawing her attention back to the present moment.

       ‘Don’t think that you can seduce your way back into my bed after treating me like this!’

      Lucy had just enough time for a cynical smile as she reflected that if her new boss was to so much as arch an eyebrow this woman would undoubtedly be back in his bed in a heartbeat before the door was suddenly flung open. She looked studiously at her computer screen, trying to sink down in her seat and be as unobtrusive as possible.

      Being unobtrusive was her trademark: it was what had got her this coveted job, along with her impeccable credentials and references. There was a lull, a pseudo-calm in the middle of the storm. Lucy didn’t look up, but could visualise the woman standing dramatically on the threshold of the palatial office. Tall, sleek and blonde. Stunningly beautiful, from the top of her shiny head to the tip of her expensively manicured toes, evident through the peepholes of a pair of sky-high heels. She was reputedly one of the most alluring women in the world, but apparently hadn’t managed to hold his attention for longer than a few weeks.

      ‘Needless to say you won’t be hearing from me again.’

      The door slammed shut with such violence that Lucy winced. He wouldn’t appreciate that. Even though Lucy had only been working for him for two months she already knew that he hated scenes. A cloud of noxious perfume lingered in the wake of the tall woman’s exit. She hadn’t even glanced Lucy’s way.

      Lucy breathed a sigh of relief and then heard a loud thump, as if a fist was connecting with a hard surface. She counted to ten, and on the count of ten the door opened. She looked up and willed any emotion or reaction from her face. Her boss stood there, filling the frame easily. Veritable sparks of energy crackled from his body.

      Aristotle Levakis, CEO of Levakis Enterprises which encompassed all aspects of a dizzyingly successful global imports and exports business.

      Tall, broad-shouldered, lean hipped. Every hard-muscled, dark olive-skinned inch of him adding up to a—currently bristling—Greek alpha male in his potent and virile prime.

      His distinctive light green eyes skewered Lucy to the spot, almost as if the last ten minutes had been her fault. Instantly she felt breathless; her heart hammered. She hated that she was aware of him. But the best part of two years spent viewing him from a distance, along with every other ogling female in his thousand-employee-strong company, had done little to help diminish the devastating impact of working in such close proximity to him. A memory surfaced and familiar heat flooded her. If only she had been kept at a safe distance he might not be having this effect on her now—but there had been that moment in a lift, almost a year ago…Lucy ruthlessly crushed that memory stone-dead. Now was not the time.

      But, much to her chagrin and dismay, she couldn’t halt her reaction. It was something about the way he’d obviously just raked a hand through his unruly ink-black hair, leaving it even more dishevelled, and the way his jaw was so defined and hard it looked as if it was hewn from granite. His cheekbones and that full lower lip softened the hard edges, giving him the look of a master of sensuality—which by all accounts he was. Yet dark brows drawn together over those deep-set, amazing eyes took away any lingering pretty edges.

      ‘Lucy,’ СКАЧАТЬ