The Tycoon's Rebel Bride(3)

By: Maya Banks



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.



4



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.”

“Thank you. Everything is fine.”

“Is the suite to your liking?”

“Yes, of course. It was kind of you to reserve it for me.”

“I didn’t reserve it,” he said impatiently. “It’s my private suite.”

She looked around with renewed interest. Knowing that she was staying where

Theron spent a lot of his time gave her a decadent thrill.

“Then where are you staying?” she asked curiously. “Why would you give up

your suite?”

“The hotel is undergoing renovations. The only available suite was…mine. I’m

temporarily taking a different room.”

She laughed. “I could have taken other accommodations. There was no need for

you to move out for me.”

“A few days won’t make a difference,” he said. “You should be comfortable

before your trip to Europe.”

She swallowed back the denial that she would be going to Europe. No sense in

putting him on guard as soon as she arrived. There’d be plenty of time to apprise him of

her change in plans. Mainly when he had no chance of talking her out of it.

A mischievous smile curved her lips. “I received your summons.”

He made a sound of startled exclamation that sounded suspiciously like an oath.

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