The Tycoon's Rebel Bride (The Anetakis Tycoons #2)(2)



Theron groaned. “I knew I should have bloody well made Piers take over the New York office.”

Chrysander laughed. “This will be a piece of cake, little brother. It shouldn’t take you long at all to make sure she’s settled and has everything she needs.”

Isabella Caplan had no sooner made it past the airport security checkpoint when she saw a man in a chauffeur’s uniform holding a sign with her name on it.

She held up a hand in a wave and made her way over. To her surprise, two other men stepped forward to flank her. Her confusion must have showed because the chauffeur smiled and said, “Welcome to New York, Ms. Caplan. I’m Henry, your driver for today, and these gentlemen are from Mr. Anetakis’s security detail.”

“Uh, hi,” she said.

“I’ve arranged for someone to collect your luggage from baggage claim,” Henry said as he herded her toward the exit. “It will be delivered to the hotel shortly.”

Outside, one of the security men held the limousine door open for her then got in after her, while the second climbed into the front seat with Henry. Privacy wasn’t in the cards, and what she really wanted to do was wilt all over her seat.

Isabella leaned back as the limousine pulled away from the passenger pickup area en route to Imperial Park, the hotel owned by the Anetakis brothers. Chrysander had arranged a suite anytime she visited New York, not that it had occurred often.

This trip had been planned as nothing more than a brief stopover on her way to Europe, a fact she’d apprised Chrysander of in her correspondence. All of that had changed the minute she’d received a terse missive from Theron Anetakis informing her that he was now overseeing her affairs, and he would meet briefly with her in New York to make sure she had everything she needed for her trip abroad.

He didn’t know it yet, but her trip was a thing of the past. She was going to stay in New York…indefinitely.

The limousine pulled up in front of the hotel and ground smoothly to a halt. Her door opened, and the security guard who’d ridden in front extended his hand to assist her out. Once inside the lobby, she was ushered immediately to her suite, bypassing the front desk altogether.

Within ten minutes, her luggage was delivered to her room along with a bouquet of flowers and a basket filled with an assortment of snacks and fruits.

If that wasn’t enough, just as she settled onto the couch to kick off her shoes and catch her breath, another knock sounded. Grumbling under her breath, she went to open the door and found another hotel employee standing there. He extended a smooth, cream-colored envelope.

“A message from Mr. Anetakis.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Which Mr. Anetakis?”

The young man looked discomfited. “Theron.”

She smiled, thanked him and then closed the door. She turned the envelope over and lightly ran her finger over the inscription on the front. Isabella Caplan. Had he written it himself?

Experiencing a moment of silliness, she brought the paper to her nose, hoping to catch his smell. There. Light but undeniably his scent. She remembered it as though it were yesterday. He obviously still wore the same cologne.

She broke open the seal and pulled the card from the envelope. In a distinctly masculine scrawl, he’d written his instructions for her to come to his office the next morning.

An amused smile curved her lips. As arrogant as she remembered. Summoning her like a wayward child. At least Chrysander had dropped by her suite to check in on her. But then she’d been a mere eighteen, and he’d also provided a veritable nanny to chaperone her for her visit to the city.

She’d be more than happy to meet Theron on his terms. It would make it that more satisfying to rock him back on his heels. The basis for her big trip to Europe had been solely because that was where Theron lived. Or had lived. When Chrysander married, he and his wife moved to his Greek island on a permanent basis. Which meant that Theron had moved a lot closer to Isabella. Finally.

The trip to Europe was off. Her seduction of Theron was on.

She sank onto the couch and put her feet up on the coffee table. Vibrant red toenail polish flashed in front of her as she wiggled her toes. The delicate ankle bracelet flashed and shimmered with the movement of her foot.

Theron had only gotten more gorgeous over the last few years. He’d lost the youthful handsomeness and replaced it with raw masculinity. While she’d been waiting to grow up so she could stake her claim, he’d only become more desirable. More irresistible. And she’d only fallen more in love with him.

It wouldn’t be easy. She didn’t imagine he’d fall readily into her arms. The Anetakis brothers were hard. They could have any woman they wanted. They were ruthless in business, but they were also loyal, and honor was everything.

The phone rang, and she sighed in aggravation. The phone was across the room, and she was quite comfortable on the couch. Shoving herself up, she stumbled over to answer it.

“Hello?”

There was a brief silence.

“Ms. Caplan—Isabella.”

She recognized the accented English, and a thrill skirted down her spine. It wasn’t Chrysander, and given that Piers was out of the country and had never so much as had a conversation with Isabella, it could only be Theron.

“Yes,” she said huskily, hoping her nervousness wasn’t betrayed.

“This is Theron Anetakis. I was calling to make sure you made it in okay and are settling in with no difficulty.”

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