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His fish was hooked; all he had to do now was reel her in.

CHAPTER TWO

HIS hotel suite was more like a penthouse apartment. Ultra modern in design, it had black terrazzo floors with circular white sofas positioned to take full advantage of the glittering view out across London.

‘This is a fabulous place.’ Cat walked across towards the window to look out, her gaze taking in the floodlit

rooftop garden and the swimming pool.

‘Yes, not bad,’ Nicholas agreed. But, as he moved to stand next to her, his eyes were on her rather than the view. The green silk material of her dress moulded to the slender curves of her body. She had a very desirable shape—a waist he could probably span with his hands and breasts that were ripe and ready for a man’s mouth to explore. The mere thought of having that pleasure made him harden. ‘I keep a suite like this at all of my hotels; it serves well for business purposes, although, as I travel so much they are only used on the rarest of occasions.’

‘So where do you call home?’ She looked up at him curiously.

The name Cat suited her, he thought, she had the intense gold-green eyes of a cat, almond shaped, somehow bewitching. ‘I have a house on the island of Crete.’

‘You’re Greek.’ It was an observation rather than a question and he just inclined his head.

‘Crete is very beautiful,’ Cat reflected softly. ‘You’ve been there?’

‘Yes, my grandfather owned a villa just outside Xania and I spent a few family holidays there when I was young.’ For a moment she remembered the sparkling beauty of that white mansion overlooking the sea. She had loved her summers there with her grandfather, had felt surrounded by love and happiness. Then the accident had happened and her mother had died. She had been only ten years old but from the day that her father’s car had spun out of control on that coast road everything in her life had spun around too. Crete had stopped being a place of happy memories.

Nicholas watched as her face clouded with some dark emotion and for some reason he found himself wanting to reach out to her and soothe the shadows away. ‘Have you been back there recently?’ he asked softly.

Cat didn’t even want to think about her visit there last year. Her father had prevailed upon her to bail her brother out of a business deal that had gone wrong. When she had got there she had discovered that, far from something going wrong, Michael had deliberately set up a very shady deal. It had been an unpleasant episode and a shock to learn how low Michael could stoop. She had spent the week tracing the people he had conned and giving them their money back.

What was that old saying? You can choose your friends but you can’t choose your family? She ran a hand distractedly through her hair.

Nicholas saw her brief hesitation, and then she seemed to gather herself together. ‘I’ve no time for holidays these days.’

She hadn’t lied, Nicholas noted, she had just skipped over the truth. His sources had told him she had been back to Crete last year to financially back her brother in one of his deals. His private detective had taken photographs of her coolly visiting the victims of the scam to lend her brother more credibility. A little later, with Cat safely back in London, they had cleaned up on an even bigger con. He really needed to remember that, despite her air of delicate vulnerability, she was a true McKenzie, he told himself firmly. They all seemed to have a knack for lying by omission. The reminder strengthened his resolve.

Cat was surprised to notice a harsh glitter in the dark eyes that raked over her now. It made a shiver run through her, as if someone had just walked over her grave.

‘You should go back when you get a chance,’ he said, turning away.

The lightness of his tone belied that fiercely intense look, making Cat wonder if she had imagined it.

‘I’m going to have a whisky. Can I get you a drink?’ he asked nonchalantly. ‘A brandy, perhaps; they say it’s good for shock.’

Of course she had imagined it, she thought, relaxing. ‘No, I’m OK, thank you.’

‘You’re feeling better now, I take it.’

‘I feel more embarrassed than anything else.’

‘Embarrassed?’ One dark eyebrow rose wryly.

‘For having caused so much of a fuss. I should have just gone home. Nothing has been stolen from me and the police aren’t going to achieve much; the man is long gone.’

‘That’s not the point. They might catch him and that would save someone else going through a similar ordeal.’

‘I suppose so.’

Her eyes followed him contemplatively as he poured himself his drink and then walked back towards her. The dark suit he wore looked expensive; it sat well on his broad-shouldered frame. She couldn’t help but notice that he had a very impressive physique; lean and well honed, he gave the impression of someone who could handle himself in any situation.

There was no denying the fact that she found him extremely attractive. But he wasn’t her type, she told herself firmly. Too much money and power was a turn-off for her. She had grown up around wealth and she hadn’t liked it, hadn’t liked the traits it brought out in people. He was probably arrogant—went after what he wanted and always got it. And there was an air of danger about him that made her feel intensely unsure of him.

But he was overwhelmingly handsome; her senses pressed the point as he reached her side. She couldn’t ever remember feeling an instant magnetism like this before.

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