The Andreou Marriage Arrangement. Helen Bianchin

      ‘You’d have preferred a memo relaying I’m due in Melbourne late this afternoon to head an emergency meeting before flying on to Adelaide, then the Gold Coast?’

      ‘You require my input?’

      ‘Personally or professionally?’

      A trick question? ‘Professionally, of course.’

      Of course. His eyes narrowed a little as he took in the red power suit, the killer heels, the upswept hair, and his fingers itched to loosen the pins holding the elegantly contrived knot in place.

      Her choice of apparel made a statement, one she’d deliberately sought to portray, he noted silently. And wondered why she’d thought it necessary.

      Because she felt threatened by him? Perhaps she had cause, professionally.

      ‘The current state of Karsouli requires swift action, and formal meetings with each of the men who head the corporation’s three out-of-state offices are imperative. Personally, not via conference call.’

      Alesha didn’t give him the satisfaction of verbally agreeing with him. ‘When will you be back?’

      ‘Late Thursday evening.’

      ‘I trust you’ll keep me posted. Is that all?’

      One eyebrow quirked a little. ‘There’s the matter of our wedding details.’

      Her stomach executed a painful somersault, and it took considerable effort to remain calm. ‘Email me the time and venue.’

      ‘Wolseley Road, Point Piper.’ He offered the number. ‘Friday, four o’clock in the afternoon.’

      A slight frown creased her forehead. ‘That’s a private residence.’ Situated amongst Sydney’s most expensive real estate.

      ‘My home, which is currently in the final stages of redecoration.’

      Sufficient money could achieve almost anything…and obviously had. It explained his preference for temporary hotel accommodation.

      ‘There’s also the legalities attached to the union,’ Loukas relayed smoothly. ‘We have an appointment at three-thirty this afternoon to tend to the necessary paperwork.’

      Ensuring everything was neatly tied together before he flew out to Melbourne, she perceived, and attempted to quell the feeling she’d boarded a runaway train from which escape would involve irreparable damage to life and limb.

      ‘Fine.’

      ‘There’s nothing you want to add?’

      A whole heap in verbal castigation…none of which would do any good! Instead, she managed a stunningly sweet smile. ‘Not at this moment.’

      She turned and made for the door, only to discover he was there before her, and she attempted to ignore his close proximity, the musky tang of his cologne, the sheer sensuality he managed to exude without any seeming effort at all.

      Assuring herself she was immune didn’t quite cut it. Nor did likening him to all men.

      Loukas Andreou stood alone, a male entity that defied categorization.

      So where did that leave her?

      Right now…out of here!

      ‘Ten in the conference room,’ Loukas reminded her silkily as she exited the room.

      A meeting he chaired with the type of ruthless strategy that left no room for doubt his proposed restructuring of Karsouli would be immediate and far-reaching.

      Details were provided in individual folders placed in front of the attending executives, who were each given forty-eight hours in which to submit approval, reservations…or otherwise.

      It took considerable effort on Alesha’s part to contain her resentment and present a neutral front when she wanted to silently rage at his high-handedness.

      She managed it, just, until Loukas called the meeting to a close, and she bore the carefully polite glances as the executive staff filed past her as they exited the room.

      Questions would follow by the long-serving personnel, concern expressed by those whose tenure was more recent…and she’d do her best with damage control.

      But now she had a bone to pick with the self-appointed man in control.

      With care she closed the door and crossed to where Loukas stood assembling paperwork into his briefcase.

      ‘How dare you initiate changes without consulting me?’

      She resembled a pocket virago, Loukas noted. Dark eyes flashed with anger as she sent him a venomous glare. ‘My father—’

      ‘Allowed his emotions to rule, and didn’t keep you apprised of the reality.’

      ‘You can’t just terminate—’

      ‘Dimitri kept performance details on file of every employee.’ He handed her a memory stick. ‘Study them in my absence, together with my recommendations, and we’ll confer on my return.’

      ‘And if I don’t agree?’

      ‘We’ll discuss it.’

      ‘We will?’ The fine edge of sarcasm was evident. ‘Should I express gratitude at being slotted into your busy schedule?’

      His cellphone beeped and he checked the screen. ‘I need to take this call. Three-thirty, Alesha. My office.’

      The temptation to throw something at him was uppermost, and she deliberately held his dark gaze, glimpsed his recognition of her intent, together with his silent threat of retribution.

      For a timeless few seconds the air between them pulsed with electricity, a perilous force so overwhelming she almost forgot to breathe.

      Then he activated the call, effectively dismissing her.

      Panache, control, she possessed both, and she turned away from him and exited the room, closing the door with an imperceptible click behind her, when she would have delighted in slamming it. Except the door was carefully weighted to avoid anything other than a smooth, almost silent action.

      She wanted badly to vent, and she would the moment she had him alone, she promised as she crossed to her office.

      Three-thirty couldn’t appear soon enough!