RITA® Award-winner ANNE MCALLISTER was born in California and spent formative summer holidays on a small ranch in Colorado, where she developed her idea of ‘the perfect hero’, as well as a weakness for dark-haired, handsome lone-wolf type guys. She found one in the university library and they’ve now been sharing ‘happily ever afters’ for over thirty years.
Breaking the Greek’s Rules
Anne McAllister
ISBN: 978-1-408-97473-5
BREAKING THE GREEK’S RULES
© 2012 Barbara Schenck
Published in Great Britain 2020
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
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Contents
For Nancy
ALEXANDROS Antonides studied the crumpled receipt, the one with the hastily scrawled name, address and phone number on the back, and was tempted to stuff it right back in his pocket.
Or better yet, throw it out.
He didn’t need a matchmaker, for God’s sake!
His fingers crushed the already frequently crumpled piece of paper and he stared out the window of the taxi as it headed north on Eighth Avenue. They weren’t out of midtown Manhattan yet. It was nearly five-thirty. He should just tell the driver to forget it.
But he didn’t. Instead he made himself lean back against the seat and, just as he had done a dozen or more times before, he smoothed out the paper against his palm.
Daisy Connolly. His cousin Lukas had scribbled down her name and address a month ago when he and Lukas had met up at the family reunion out at Lukas’s parents’ place in the Hamptons. “She’ll find you the perfect wife.”
“How do you know?” he’d asked Lukas, letting his voice carry his obvious doubt. He’d looked around pointedly, noting Lukas’s complete lack of not only a wife, but even a date for their family reunion.
“Seen her do it,” Lukas said frankly. “I went to college with her. She did it then. She does it now. She has some uncanny sense of who belongs together.” He shrugged. “Who knows how she does it? Hocus-pocus? Tea leaves? Beats me. Give her a call or go see her.”
Alex had grunted, not a sound meant to convey agreement.
“Unless you really don’t want