Even if he would much rather be somewhere else, right now—like licking wine off a supermodel’s breasts on his private beach in Kefalonia.
He dumped the shot glass onto a passing tray and grabbed some water. Time to ditch the alcohol until after he’d had a chance to meet the prince and his opportunistic daughter. And get to work on salvaging this mess. Xander had suggested they look for other locations to base the new cruise ships, but the tract of land on Galicos’ coastline was the best option by far. So, Theo was going to ensure they got it.
Theo could be charming when he needed to be, in fact he’d turned shallow charm into an art form in his teens and early twenties, switching it on and off when required as he and Xander had built an empire. And he had always hated entitled snobs like Prince Andreas, which was going to make besting the guy all the sweeter.
‘His Highness, the Prince of Galicos, and his daughter, Princess Freya…’
Theo walked through the crowd to greet his guests of honour—not surprised Andreas and his daughter had showed up, despite all the prince’s hot air on the phone three days ago.
But as he reached the receiving chamber of the lavish space, his gaze snagged on the young woman on the prince’s arm.
Heat sank into his abdomen. And he swore in Greek.
Thiswas Xander’s almost fiancée? He’d seen pictures of Princess Freya in the press, but he’d never examined them closely, because she’d looked way too young and innocent and boringly vanilla for a guy like him… Plus he’d never been interested in increasing his social cachet by snagging himself a princess, unlike his brother. Royalty was just another grift. One you could be born into through an accident of birth and had never had to earn.
But as Theo’s gaze raked over the prince’s daughter, he felt the familiar spike of adrenaline, which only signified one thing… He wanted her.
Why hadn’t his brother mentioned how stunning the girl was in the flesh?
She looked nothing like the pictures he’d seen of her.
She wasn’t particularly tall, but her legs looked endless in a pair of jewelled heels. The cocktail dress was another surprise—the glittery fabric stopped just south of her butt while the two panels draped over high full breasts gave him an uninterrupted view of her cleavage. She was revealing a lot more flesh than he would have expected from a princess. Was she even wearing a bra?
His gaze reached her face, and he had to tense against another uncomfortable spike of lust.
She had the most incredible eyes, a deep, iridescent green that reminded him of the sea around the house he’d built on Kefalonia but rarely had the time to visit. Filled with a strange mix of artlessness and self-possession, her eyes dominated a fine-boned face—while the slash of expertly applied make-up across the upper lids accentuated their cat-like grace. He’d heard the term come-to-bed eyes, but he’d obviously had no idea what that meant until now—the huge green orbs beckoning him into their depths and making desire pulse in his gut.
Her hair was a rich light brown streaked with gold and was piled on top of her head in an artfully messy updo, which left tendrils hanging down to caress her swanlike neck. It was the kind of hairdo designed to make a man’s fingers itch to sink into the silky mass and make it tumble onto her bare shoulders.
Her big eyes widened, and teeth nipped at her bottom lip, chewing off the lip gloss that sparkled in the torchlight, like the diamonds hanging from her earlobes.
Was she deliberately trying to get him fixated on her mouth? And how kissable it was? Because it was working.
He shoved his fists into his pockets, resisting the urge to drag her towards him and taste the cupid’s bow on top, before thrusting his tongue deep to…
A throat cleared loudly, snapping him out of the erotic fantasy.
‘Monsieur Caras, the younger, I presume?’
He turned, to find the prince—who he had barely noticed—watching him with a smug half-smile on his face. Although this was their first encounter, the man was as pompous and self-important as Theo had expected. His portly frame was clothed in a dress uniform with a display of ribbons and medals attached to the red serge that Theo doubted the guy had earned the hard way.
Theo swallowed, irritated to realise his mouth was drier than Rhodes in high summer.
It took him a full second to recover from the direct hit to his libido caused by the man’s daughter, before he nodded. ‘And you would be Prince Andreas, I presume?’
The prince’s jaw tightened, his eyes going flat with disgust at Theo’s refusal to address him like a supreme being.
Theo didn’t give a damn. They both knew why the man was here—because he needed this deal a hell of a lot more than Caras Shipping, if the rumours Theo had heard about the principality’s finances were true…
Controlling his indignation with an effort, the prince gave a stiff nod. ‘Correct. Let me introduce you to my daughter, Monsieur Caras,’ he said, the smug tone returning. ‘Her Royal Highness, Princess Freya.’
The prince lifted his daughter’s slender arm, clearly expecting Theo to bow before them both.
Yeah, not gonna happen either.
But then the man laughed, the sound grating. ‘Although I believe you already know that.’
Theo wasn’t sure whatthatwas supposed to mean, but he could see the girl was less than impressed with her father’s joke when her cat-like eyes went a little squinty. As if she’d just sucked on a lemon.
