All That Glitters Read online

  The phone started ringing just as she opened the door, but Jessica paused for a moment to check on Samantha before she answered it. The dog was still in her basket, looking particularly peaceful, and she wagged her tail in greeting but did not get up. "No pups yet?" asked Jessica as she reached for the phone. "At this rate, old girl, they'll be grown before they get here." Then she lifted the phone on the kitchen extension.' 'Mrs. Stanton speaking."

  "Mrs. Stanton, this is Nikolas Constantinos," said a deep voice, so deep that the bass notes almost growled at her, and to her surprise the accent was more American than Greek. She clutched the receiver as a spurt of warmth went through her. How silly, she chided herself, to melt at the sound of a faint American accent just because she was American herself! She loved England, she was content with her life here, but nevertheless, that brisk sound made her smile.

  "Yes, Mr. Constantinos?" she made herself say, then wondered if she sounded rude. But she would be lying if she said something trite like "How nice it is to hear from you" when it wasn't nice at all; in fact, it would probably be very nasty indeed.

  "I would like to arrange a meeting with you tomorrow, Mrs. Stanton," he said. "What time would be convenient for you?"

  Surprised, she reflected that Constantinos himself did not seem to be as arrogant as his secretary; at least he had asked what time would be convenient, rather than telling her what time to present herself. Aloud she said, "On Saturday, Mr. Constantinos?"

  "I realize it is the weekend, Mrs. Stanton," the deep voice replied, a hint of irritation evident in his tone. "However, I have work to do regardless of the day of the week."

  Now that sounded more like what she had expected. Smiling slightly, she said, "Then any time is convenient for me, Mr. Constantinos; I haven't any commitments for tomorrow."

  "Very well, let's say tomorrow afternoon, two o'clock." He paused, then said, "And, Mrs. Stanton, I don't like playing games. Why did you make an appointment with me this afternoon if you did not intend to keep it?"

  Stung, she retorted coldly, "I didn't make the appointment. Your secretary phoned me and told me what time to be there, then hung up before I could agree or disagree. It rushed me, but I made the effort and waited for as long as I could, but I had another appointment to keep. I apologize if my effort was not good enough!" Her tone of voice stated plainly that she didn't care what his opinion was, and she didn't stop to think if that was wise or not She was incensed that that cockroach of a secretary had dared to imply that she was at fault.

  "I see," he said after a moment. "Now it is my turn to apologize to you, Mrs. Stanton, and my apology is sincere. That will not happen again. Until tomorrow, then." The phone clicked as he hung up.

  Jessica slammed the phone down violently and stood for a minute tapping her foot in controlled temper, then her face cleared and she laughed aloud. He had certainly put her in her place! She began almost to look forward to this meeting with the notorious Nikolas Constantinos.

  When Jessica dressed for the meeting the next day, she began early and allowed herself plenty of time to change her mind about what she would wear. She tried on several things and finally chose a severely tailored dull-gold suit that made her look mature and serious, and this she teamed with a cream-colored silk shirt. The muted gold picked up the gold in her tawny hair and lightly tanned skin, and she didn't realize the picture she made or she would have changed immediately. As it was, she looked like a golden statue come to life, with gleaming green jewels for eyes.

  She was geared up for this meeting; when she walked into the outer office at two o'clock, her heart was pounding in anticipation, her eyes were sparkling, and her cheeks were flushed. At her entrance the secretary jumped to his feet with an alacrity that told her some stinging comments had been made concerning his conduct. Though his eyes were distinctly hostile, he escorted her into the inner office immediately.

  "Mrs. Stanton, sir," he said, and left the office, closing the doors behind him.

  Jessica moved across the office with her proud, graceful stride, and the man behind the desk rose slowly to his feet as she approached. He was tall, much taller than the average Greek, and his shoulders strained against the expensive cloth of his dark gray suit. He stood very still, watching her as she walked toward him, and his eyes narrowed to slits. She reached the desk and held out her hand; slowly her fingers were taken, but instead of the handshake she had invited, her hand was lifted and the black head bent over it. Warm lips were pressed briefly to her fingers, then her hand was released and the black head lifted.

  Almost bemused, Jessica stared into eyes as black as night beneath brows that slashed across his face in a straight line. An arrogant blade of nose, brutally hard cheekbones, a firm lip line, a squared and stubborn chin, completed the face that was ancient in its structure. Centuries of Greek heritage were evident in that face, the face of a Spartan warrior. Charles had been right; this man was utterly ruthless, but Jessica did not feel threatened. She felt exhilarated, as if she was in the room with a tiger that she could control if she was very careful. Her heartbeat increased and her eyes grew brighter, and to disguise her involuntary response, she smiled and mur-mured, "Are you trying to charm me into voting my shares the way you want before you resort to annihilation?"

  Amazingly, a smile appeared in response. "With a woman, I always try charm first," he said in the deep tones that seemed even deeper than they had last night over the phone.

  "Really?" she asked in mock wonder. "Does it usually work?"

  "Usually," he admitted, still smiling. "Why is it that I have the feeling, Mrs. Stanton, that you'll be an exception?"

  "Perhaps because you're an unusually astute man, Mr. Constantinos," she countered.

  He laughed aloud at that and indicated a chair set before his desk. "Please sit down, Mrs. Stanton. If we are to argue, let us at least be comfortable while we do it."

  Jessica sat down and said impulsively, "Your accent is American, isn't it? It makes me feel so much at home!"

  "I learned to speak English on a Texas oil field," he said. "I'm afraid that even Oxford couldn't erase the hint of Texas from my speech, though I believe it was thought by my instructors that my accent is Greek! Are you from Texas, Mrs. Stanton?"

  "No, but a Texas drawl is recognizable to any American! How long were you in Texas?"

  "For three years. How long have you been in England, Mrs. Stanton?"

  "Since shortly before I married, a little over five years."

  "Then you were little more than a child when you married," he said, an odd frown crossing his brow. "I'd assumed that you would be older, at least thirty, but I can see that's impossible."

  Lifting her dainty chin, Jessica said, "No, I was a precocious eighteen when I married." She began to tense, sensing an attack of the type that she had endured so many times in the past five years.

  "As I said, little more than a child. Though I suppose there are countless wives and mothers aged eighteen, it seems so much younger when the husband you chose was old enough to be your grandfather."

  Jessica drew back and said coldly, "I see no reason to discuss my marriage. I believe our business concerns stocks."

  He smiled again, but this time the smile was that of a predator, with nothing humorous in it. "You're certainly correct about that," he allowed. "However, that issue should be solved rather easily. When you sold your body and your youth to an old man of seventy-six, you established the fact that monetary gain ranks very high on your list of priorities. The only thing left to discuss is: how much?"

  * * *

  Chapter Two

  Years of experience had taught Jessica how to hide her pain behind a proud, aloof mask, and she used that mask now, revealing nothing of her thoughts and feelings as she faced him. "I'm sorry, Mr. Constantinos, but you seem to have misjudged the situation," she said distantly. "I didn't come here to accept a bribe."

  "Nor am I offering you a bribe, Mrs. Stanton," he said, his eyes gleaming. "I'm offering to buy you