The Greek Tycoon's Runaway Bride

The Greek Tycoon’s Runaway Bride

By Lietha Wards

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 Lietha Wards

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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CHAPTER ONE

Do you know what tonight is? Paul asked as he turned and locked the doors of the diner. It had been a busy day, and he was glad that Sophie had finished her chores by the time he’d finished his. She usually left sooner, but this time he was able to get the kitchen clean before she disappeared. He wanted some time alone with her.

He finished locking up and they stepped out into the cool night air, and he gathered up his courage to try asking her out again.

Sophie tilted her head at him in puzzlement. Tonight?

Paul turned back to her with a grin on his handsome face. It’s your nine month anniversary here. He studied her flawless face under the orange-amber illumination of the streetlight, looking for any sign that the attraction was mutual. He had yet to find one. That didn’t deter him, though. He was confident in his ability to charm women, but this particular one was proving difficult. Still, he had no intention to give up—anyone who caught even a glimpse of Sophie would completely understand why. She was gorgeous. She seemed far too sophisticated to be a waitress, but it didn’t matter. He was still going to pursue her anyway.

Oh? She smiled. It was slight, but Sophie didn’t smile often; not genuinely, anyway. She forced one for the customers because of her job, but there was a deep sadness in her. She kept to herself for survival. She often thought it would have been nice to make friends, but that meant she’d have to reveal some of her past, and she wasn’t willing to do so.

Let me buy you a drink, Paul added, trying to keep the pleading out of his voice. Not one of his girlfriends could attest to him resorting to begging for a date. He never pursued uninterested women, but Sophie was different. Besides being a stunning credit to her sex, she was sweet as hell. The most frustrating thing was that she didn’t seem attracted to him at all. Her faltering smile at his offer just confirmed it.

I can’t. Sophie clutched her purse and shifted on her feet uncomfortably.

Sophie? Paul’s expression became serious. I’ve known you since the first day you walked into the diner asking for a job, and not once have I seen you go out on a date. I know you’re not gay because God would be cruel to create someone as beautiful as you in such a way. He smiled when she blushed at his flattery. But all I want is a drink—between friends.

She pondered his request for a moment.

It can’t be that hard of a decision? he asked incredulously, holding up his hands. I’ll behave, I promise, he added, hoping the lie didn’t show on his face.

Forcing a smile she didn’t feel, Sophie lifted her chin. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. She didn't have any friends here—she had acquaintances that she’d come to know through her job, but she’d kept to herself since she moved there, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention in her direction. She still got it, though—mostly from the opposite sex, no matter how she tried to discourage them. If Paul was offering friendship, maybe she should set aside her reservations and accept. Yet there was that niggling in her conscience that wouldn’t let her be: it didn’t feel right. Maybe her upbringing was making her feel like she was betraying someone, even if it was all in innocence.

Paul inclined his head. I’m very flattered that you accepted.

She eyed him a moment longer. It seemed harmless enough, but something inside her told her it was just wrong. Just this once, Paul, and like you said: as friends. I’m not—I can’t have a relationship, she blurted out.

Honey, if that’s all you can offer, I’ll take it. He didn’t know why she was so reluctant, and quite truthfully, he knew less about her than he did a year ago except that she made his blood boil with desire every time he laid eyes on her, but he didn’t miss her slight wince when he called her honey. It was a common endearment used by many people, yet she reacted like it was an attack.

Sophie had seemed so helpless when she entered his parents’ diner last year and removed the ‘Help Wanted’ sign from the window. It instantly roused male protective instincts in him—among other things. He’d asked her out barely a week into her working for them and she’d turned him down. She did it politely, but he was still disappointed.

By the town’s standards, Paul was quite a catch, but Sophie rarely looked at him like the other women her age did. She also kept her emotions carefully guarded. He’d actually hired her in the hope that he would find her in his bed one day. That was nine months ago, and he was no closer to his goal now than he was back then. Despite the constant refusals, he still hadn’t given up hope—and he felt a little better knowing that she’d turned down every other man who asked her out too.

That didn’t stop the suitors, though. At least once a day, flowers would arrive for her at the diner, even on her day off. Additionally, the patrons became mostly male. Sophie could have screwed up every order and they wouldn’t have minded, and most times she did—this definitely wasn’t her line of work. It was interesting because as smart as she was, she just couldn’t seem to get the hang of waiting tables. A simple, task-orientated job. Regardless, she brought in customers, and that’s what mattered most for the family business.

Watching Sophie over the past few months made it obvious to Paul that she had some social grace about her. He started to wonder if she came from money just from the way she presented herself. She was extremely classy, more so than the town’s elite, yet she was very likable and never acted like a snob, which made him rethink his assumption.

His only other conclusion was that Sophie was hiding from someone or something, and was willing to work as a waitress in a small-town greasy spoon to do it. What could be so bad for her to want to disappear? He’d never asked the questions that carved holes in his conscience because, for some odd reason, he knew that she would bolt and he’d never see her again.

It really didn’t help that the woman looked like a Playboy model too. Her body was a perfect ten. She had an hourglass figure with firm, high breasts, a tiny waist with flared hips, and a face gorgeous enough to stop traffic. He swore that if she ever let those ebony curls down from the top of her head, they would tumble to her waist and frame her beautiful, heart-shaped face adorned with full, pouty lips and eyes as green as emeralds.

Come on, there’s a nice pub just down the road, he said, smiling.

I should go home and change. She looked down at her pink waitressing uniform.

Paul heard the hesitancy in her voice and knew Sophie was rethinking his invitation. If he let her go home, he doubted she would return to meet him at the bar. You look fine. Besides, this is a small town, and everyone knows where you work. She looked like a million dollars even in her uniform and was sexy as hell. The outfit was snug in all of the right places, and frankly, he preferred that she kept it on. In fact, he’d like to be the one to peel it off her.

Oh, I guess, then, she said uncertainly.

Come on then. Paul held out his hand.

Sophie looked from his hand to his eyes and clasped her purse tightly. She wouldn’t do such a thing, no matter how casually other people treated it. Sophie was raised with very high morals, and to take a man’s hand if she was not married or related to him was unthinkable.

I don’t bite, honey, he said with a grin, wondering what was so difficult about taking his hand. He realized he’d made a mistake in calling her honey a second time, but it was too late: she backed down completely.

I know—it’s just— She looked around nervously. I think I’ll take a rain check on that drink. Suddenly this felt so very wrong to her. Paul seemed harmless enough, but his whole posture made her wary.

Paul was stunned. What had he done? The longer they stood there, the more nervous she became. Sophie, did someone hurt you in the past? Is that why you don’t trust men?

She shook her head quickly. No, not the way you’re thinking.

Then in what way? That was the most he’d ever gotten out of her. Paul wanted to hear more, but she shut him down.

I should go. I’m so sorry. I really shouldn’t be seen with you.

What? Why? Then something occurred to him: what if Sophie was overly religious? She might be the daughter of a pastor or raised in a very strict household. If that was true, everything about her suddenly made sense. She acted very virginal. It frustrated him that he still knew nothing about her, but he kept that to himself. She was like a fragile butterfly, and again, he knew she would bolt if he pushed her. This small display just proved it.

Sophie took a deep breath and raised her eyes to meet his gaze. Paul, I know how you are with women—people talk, and I’ve seen you with a different girl every week—

Whoa, he interrupted gently, trying his best charming smile on her. I can see where this is going, but I really like you. She looked horrified at his admission.

You can’t! she burst out. You just can’t!

What is wrong with that? A guy meets a gal, and when he likes her, he asks her out to see where things might go from there. Sophie rapidly began shaking her head.

No, we can’t possibly see each other—on a date, or anything near that. She was adamant, but Paul didn’t seem convinced.

I can see this subject is really bothering you, so why don’t we both agree to just remain friends, and friends do hang out together. So why don’t we go get that drink and act as friends? he responded, trying to change his tactics, but not meaning one word of it. Sophie bit her bottom lip as she contemplated his words, and then to his disappointment, she shook her head.

I really can’t. I’m sorry. She started backing away. I’ll see you tomorrow at work, she said before she turned around and left at a brisk walk.

Paul released a sigh of frustration as he watched her walk away. Damn, he was so close. He was sure if he could gain her trust, he could get her in bed soon after that. There was something wrong with this whole situation, and she was clearly terrified of being alone with him. Had a man hurt her despite what she’d said? One thing was certain: if that was his woman, he would treat her right in every way.

Whoever Sophie was running from certainly would be missing her something awful. If it was him, he’d never give up looking for her. Still, the thought that she might be some preacher’s daughter didn’t fade either. Maybe it was both? Or perhaps she was in a relationship with some pastor. Oh hell, that must be farthest from the truth. After what he’d just witnessed, Paul doubted she had ever been with a man. He would try to get some answers from her tomorrow.

However, his questions were answered the next day before he had the chance to ask.

*****

From the time the diner opened the next morning, it was a mad rush. Sophie did her best to keep up, but she kept mixing up the orders. As before, Paul was thankful for her looks because no one ever complained about not getting the right order, and if anything, she’d helped business by creating an influx of male clients. Not only that, Paul’s mother adored Sophie.

His mother had severe bouts Rheumatoid Arthritis, and Sophie had spent numerous hours visiting with her, even reading to her in the evening. When she had painful relapses, Sophie was by her side in the hospital when she wasn’t working. The devotion was genuine—she really cared about his mother. That’s another thing that drew Paul to Sophie. In his experience, women who looked like Sophie weren’t that compassionate.

Paul had never met anyone like her—and he’d dated a lot of women, sometimes more than one at the same time. He was confident in his abilities with them because of his looks. He was tall, blond, and blue-eyed, and never had trouble getting a date or sex when he needed it. Sophie was immune to his charm and his looks, however, no matter what approach he tried.

After the previous night’s experience, he watched her more closely than usual, especially watching how Sophie interacted with the customers. It was obvious that she was mistrustful of men, but she didn’t seem afraid of them. Maybe her last boyfriend had been unfaithful and that’s why she refused to date. However, she seemed warm, although distant, to him. If anyone were to get her to go out on a date, Paul was sure it would be him—especially after nine months of trying!

He ached to see if that creamy skin of hers was the same all over. He fantasized about how beautiful she would look naked, and took it even further to imagine the things he could do with her. He always prided himself on being a good lover, although there were times when he’d been selfish enough just to reach his own release, but women