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USA TODAY bestselling and RITA® Award–nominated author CAITLIN CREWS loves writing romance. She teaches her favourite romance novels in creative writing classes at places like UCLA Extension’s prestigious Writers’ Programme, where she finally gets to utilise the MA and PhD in English Literature she received from the University of York in England. She currently lives in the Pacific Northwest, with her very own hero and too many pets. Visit her at caitlincrews.com.

Also by Caitlin Crews

Secrets of His Forbidden Cinderella

Chosen for His Desert Throne

Once Upon a Temptation collection

Claimed in the Italian’s Castle

Royal Christmas Weddings miniseries

Christmas in the King’s Bed

His Scandalous Christmas Princess

Rich, Ruthless & Greek miniseries

The Secret That Can’t Be Hidden

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Her Deal With the Greek Devil

Caitlin Crews


ISBN: 978-0-008-91403-5


© 2021 Caitlin Crews

Published in Great Britain 2021

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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About the Author


Title Page


Note to Readers














About the Publisher


CONSTANTINE SKALAS HAD waited a long, long time for this day. What had started as a young man’s rash promise had become a plot. Then a plan. Today that plan had finally borne its intended fruit.

He intended to savor it.

And as a man who had dedicated a large portion of his decidedly debaucherous adult life to relishing all the many pleasures life had in store, he knew precisely how best to go about it.

There were any number of places he could have met the object of all his many plans. He was a Skalas, one of two owners of the sprawling, multinational Skalas & Sons. His father had once been the richest man alive, but Constantine and his brother, Balthazar, had doubled his wealth within the first year of their ownership. He had properties literally everywhere, homes and rentals and hotels, and could have chosen any one of them for today’s long-awaited meeting.

Naturally, he’d chosen the one calculated to stick the knife in, and he hoped, give it a little twist for good measure. It was an estate in the quiet part of Skiathos, an island off the coast of Thessaly, Greece. Skiathos, where far too many bright young things flocked for the energetic nightlife in Skiathos Town, though Constantine had not availed himself of the local amenities, or talent, in longer than he cared to recall. And Skiathos was also where, once upon a time, he had been force-fed his father’s new and unacceptable second wife and worse, had been required to contend with an awkward stepsister he had never warmed to in the slightest.

Though that was perhaps understating the case.

He had despised his stepmother. He had felt only slightly less opposed to his stepsister, who might not have been at fault for her mother’s ambitious marriage—but she hadn’t done anything to oppose it, either. Those feelings had not dimmed over time. His father might have thought better of his second marriage and summarily ended it, as he had been wont to do with his customary brutality, but Constantine could hold a grudge until the end of time.

And did. Happily.

He settled back in the chair behind the desk where the late and wholly unlamented Demetrius Skalas, his father, had once conducted his business when he’d called this house his primary home. It had been but a few years of madness before Demetrius had rid himself of the appalling British housekeeper, Isabel, and her hopeless daughter that he’d acquired for reasons unclear. As far as Constantine could tell, Demetrius had only married Isabel in the first place to really hammer home the fact he was moving on from his elegant and fragile first wife. The wife he’d crushed, then discarded, then mocked as she’d cycled deep into despair.

The wife who happened to be Constantine’s mother, that was.

But Constantine was not going to think about his mother today, or he would lose his cool. And his quarry did not deserve his temper. She did not deserve to see anything but his vengeance.

He studied his father’s desk as he sat there. Like all the things Demetrius had used as props to bolster his inflated sense of himself, the desk was a monstrosity.

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