The Greek's Chosen Wife
"I CAN'T MAKE it to your party," Nikolos told the woman reclining on the bed, pulling on the jacket of his suit with the fluid grace that distinguished all his movements.
"Please...pretty please..." Naked but for a turquoise silk wrap, Tania Benson leapt up and curled her arms round his neck, deploying her long, rangy, supermodel body like a lethal weapon of persuasion. "I want you to be there."
"No strings," Nikolos reminded her, irritated by her persistence. Their relationship was basic and not exclusive, for they often went months without contact. He only saw Tania when he was in Paris or Brussels. To complement her position in his life, he enjoyed the company of an Icelandic blonde in New York and a sultry Russian model in London.
The redhead pouted. "I've never asked you for a favour before."
Nikolos shrugged. She had not had to a ... read full excerpt from The Greek's Chosen Wife ebook
