Williams Cathy - Constantinou's Mistress.pdf - Williams Cathy(1) - chomciomania

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CONSTANTINOUÓS MISTRESS

Cathy Williams

Sleeping with her Greek tycoon boss...

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One evening, when Lucy Reid was working late, things had got steamy with her

gorgeous Greek boss NickConstantinou and they'd ended up making love!

They both vowed to go on as if nothing had happened, but now that Nick had discovered

the passion that lay beneath Lucy's prim, efficient exterior, he could think of nothing

else! Whilst away on business, he seduced her all over again-this time as his mistress...

Nick clearly felt something for Lucy-but would his feelings survive her bombshell news?

CHAPTER ONE

LUCY heard the distant thud of a door slamming shutand her hand stilled over the

computer keyboard.

There shouldnÓt be anyone in the place. Not at thistime of the night, almost ten-thirty,

and certainly not onthis day of all days. She slowly pushed back the chair,feeling horribly

vulnerable in the brightly lit room, theonly lit room in the entire building. Anyone could

beapproaching, looking in at her, and she wouldnÓt be ableto see a thing.

Imposing as NickConstantinouÓs office was, there was nowhere to hide. No convenient

empty cupboards or, for that matter, thick velvet curtains. The windows,on the second

floor of the smoked-glass building, werebare of handy thick curtains and somehow trying

to slipher frame, slight though it was, behind the pale wooden shutters would have been

ludicrous.

In fact, the whole idea of hiding was ludicrous. LucyReid was far too sensible a person

to entertain thoughts of robbers and muggers.

She cleared her throat and briskly made her way tothe thick door that connected

NickConstantinouÓs officeto her own. Then she tiptoed into the enveloping dark-ness of

her own office and peered tentatively out of the door, not expecting to see anything at all.

The high, win-try winds gusting outside had a nasty habit of rattlingleaves against

window-panes, and when everywhere waswrapped in silence the sound of leaves against

a win-dow-pane was like the crash of a boulder through glass.

So her heart leapt to her throat when a dark figurelurched from one of the adjoining

offices back out into the corridor and straight in her direction.

ÒYes? May I helpyou?Ó May I help you? At ten-thirtyin the evening in an office building

which she had made sure to lock behind her when she had come in two hourspreviously?

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The inadequacy of her high-pitched questionbrought a gurgle of sick, nervous laughter to

her throat.

ÒWho are you?Ó Lucy pressed herself back against thewall and wondered how fast her

feet would be able to carry her should she need to make a bolt for the stair-case. She was

only five feet three and the figure bearingdown towards her looked at least a foot taller

and broad with it.

ÒWho do you think I am?Ó The figure reached out tobang on a switch on the wall and

suddenly the corridorwas flooded with light and she released a sigh of shud-dering,

heartfelt relief. ÒA wild, dangerous bandit out toplunder the veryÏÓ he waved one arm in

a sweep-ing gestureÒÏluxuriousoffices ofConstantinouEnterprises?Ó He seemed to find

his own rhetorical ques- tion insanely funny because he suddenly laughed, fling-ing his

head back and leaning against the wall for sup-port while Lucy watched in consternation.

ÒWhat are you doing here, Nick?Ó She walked hesi-tantly towards the towering figure.

ÒShouldnÓt yoube...?Are you all right?Ó

ÒShouldnÓt I be ...where?Ó The laughter had stopped asabruptly as it had begun, and as he

stared at her she could see the dark shadows under his eyes and the dis-tinctly bleary look

of someone under the influence of alcohol.

It was shocking enough to almost halt her in hertracks. NickConstantinou didnÓt drink.

Or at least shehad never seen him drink, not at a single one of any ofthe social occasions

which she had attended with himover the past ten months, in her capacity as secretary.

ÒYou havenÓt answered my question!Ó

ÒQuestion? What question?Ó Lucy stammered.

ÒWhere do you think I shouldbeÓ?Ó He strolled towards her very carefully. Even drunk,

as he undoubtedly was,NickConstantinou still emanated a fierce, unstudied masculine

power that could take her breath away. The somberness of his clothing, black trousers,

black tie,loosened and revealing a sliver of hard, bronzed chest, big black coat that

swayed around him like a dangerous magicianÓs cloak, only served toemphasise his

innate aggression. His dark hair was tousled from the wind out-side and he raked his

fingers restlessly through it.

ÒI thought you might be...well, have stayed behind at yourhouse withall your relatives...Ó

After all, the fu-neral of his late wife had taken place earlier in the day.

ÒI need to sit down.Ó He brushed past her down to-wards his office and disappeared

through the door, leav-ing her to wage a frantic internal debate as to whethershe should

follow him or else leave the premises asquickly and quietly as she could.

The choice was removed from her when she heard him bellow from the bowels of his

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office, ÒBring mesome water, Lucy! Or, better still, a cup of black coffee!Ó

ÒWater would be better.Ó She groped her way throughthe office, which was now in

darkness, and switched onthe light on his desk. ÒIf youÓve drunk a lot, then youÓllbe

dehydrated. You need to drink as much water as youcan.

ÒAlways sensible, are you not?Ó he mocked, taking theglass from her and propping

himself up on the massivesofa that consumed a good part of one wall.

ÒAlwaysdependable when it comes to good, sound advice.Ó

Lucy winced. Yes, good old dependable Lucy, who had climbed up through the ranks

ofConstantinouÓs head office through a combination of hard work, su-preme efficiency

and an ability not to lose her head,whatever the provocation. Good old Lucy, who

couldnÓt be in the same room as her boss without feeling a flutterof awareness, whose

eyes were fond of lingering on his harsh profile when she knew he wasnÓt watching,

whosemind ached with images of him, not only forbidden fruitbecause he was married,

but also utterly beyond thereach of someone as ordinary as she was.

ÒSo you think I should be safely back at my ownhome, do you?Ó Nick lay back on the

sofa with his armslung over his eyes and his hand resting lightly around the glass on his

flat, hard stomach.

Yes, he thought to himself, he should be back at the house, grieving in his widowerÓs

garb and allowing rel-atives, some of whom he had never laid eyes on, to pourtheir

heartfelt sympathy on his head.

The thought of it brought a wave of nausea rushingup his throat.

ÒDoes anyone know where you are? Perhaps I shouldcall...Ó

ÒNo!Ó He whipped his arm away and looked at herwith brilliant black eyes. ÒI do not

need to be rescuedlike an invalid who is no longer in charge of his ownbehaviour!Ó

ÒThey might be worried,Ó Lucy persisted, hovering in-decisively over him.

ÒSit. My neck is beginning to ache looking up at you.ÓShe moved to pull one of the

chairs across and he said irritably, ÒJust perch on the edge of the sofa. You willbe

perfectly safe, I assure you.Ó

ÒWell...if you want to be alone, you know, perhapsthe best thing would be for me to

go...Ó

ÒWhat are you doing here anyway?Ó Nick asked, ig-noring her suggestion. ÒSkulking in

an office at elevenin the night? Have you nowhere else to go?Ó

ÒOf course I do!Ó LucyÓs temper snapped and sheOared at him from under her lashes. ÒI

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just felt a lit-tle ...restless if you want to know. Funerals...Ó the singleword dropped into

the silence between them like a stone,and she cleared her throat awkwardly before

continuingÒ...depress and unsettle me. I thought I might be able tolose myself if I came

here and caught up on some work.I know it seems a little odd, but...ÓHer hands fidgeted

on her lap and she was holding herself so rigid that she could feel every muscle in her

slender body aching from the tension.

ÒFunerals are depressing,Ó Nick said in a flat, expres-sionless voice.

ÒNick, I know I said this to you today, but I reallyam...very, very sorry. I donÓt know..

would it help totalk about what happened?Ó

ÒWhat happened was a car crash.Ó He pressed histhumbs over his eyes and felt another

sharp stab of guiltthat the emotion most expected of himÏsorrowÏwas so patently

absent.

Gina had, outwardly, been everything a man couldever want, beautiful, sexy and

exotically enticing, witha habit of flicking her long black hair and narrowing hereyes that

could make a man do the unforgivable.

And for a very short while he had been asenamouredof her as any other man would have

been,enamouredenough to walk up the aisle, confident that what he feltwould last for

eternity.

But it hadnÓt lasted. He could truthfully say that histwo years of marriage could be

reduced to four monthsof happiness and then a long process of facing the in- evitable.

ÒHow much have you had to drink?ÓÒEnough to try and forget.Ó

ÒShe was very beautiful,Ó Lucy said gently. ÒI canÓt imagine what a nightmare these past

two weeks musthave been foryou...Ó

ÒThen I suggest you do not bother to try,Ó Nick toldher abruptly. His body was beginning

to feel like a deadweight and his thoughts were blurred. Her voice was likea soothing

flow of water around him. For one wild mo-ment he actually hovered on the brink of

telling her thetruth, that the nightmare of grief she imagined him to be going through was

a different sort of nightmare.

It was a nightmare of remembering the months of wit-nessing his wifeÓs unrulybehaviour

, her vicious accu-sations that he wasnÓt man enough to satisfy her. that the only true

lover in his life was his work. Every ac-cusation had removed him further and further

away fromany lingering affection he might have felt towards her,and when her evenings

out had begun to stretch into theodd night away he had reached a point of indifference.

But still he had held on, powerless to take the finalstep to terminate their marriage. When

the call had comefrom her father in Greece that she had been involved in a car crash,

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