Читать книгу Modern Romance October 2019 Books 5-8 - Annie West - Страница 22

HANNAH WOKE, STRETCHING until her back connected with something hard and warm behind her. Her heart was racing, the meeting with Greg Hassan the day before having left a lingering sense of anxiety in her so that alarm was her first emotion, followed swiftly by something much warmer, much more tempting, when she corkscrewed in the bed and realised where she was, and who she was with.

Leonidas.

And he was awake.

Staring at her.

His naked body was not a mystery to her, and yet this was the first time she’d woken up beside him, or any man, and a hint of self-consciousness made her cheeks blush.

‘I fell asleep,’ she said quietly, her eyes dropping to his chest. ‘I’m sorry.’

She didn’t see the way his brows curved reflexively into a frown.

‘Why are you apologising?’

Hannah lifted her gaze to his. ‘I don’t know. I guess I would have thought you’d want your space. Or to not have me here.’

His frown deepened and there was silence for several beats. ‘I would have thought so, too.’

More silence.

‘You were right, on the beach, Hannah. There is something between us. This chemistry.’ His eyes were hollow when they met hers. ‘I don’t want to fight it any more.’

Her blood hammered inside her, hope was rolling inside her but she stayed completely still, watching him, listening.

‘I have been single a long time. Single by choice. I have no idea how to do this. And I don’t want to hurt you.’ His expression showed his doubts on that score.

‘Why do you think you’re going to?’

His face bore a mask of wariness.

‘I don’t want you to think that great sex is more meaningful than that.’

Hannah swallowed, her brain turning his words over, making sense of them. He was afraid—afraid to risk falling in love, afraid to risk getting close to anyone. She understood that. He’d loved and lost. He was gun-shy now. But opening himself up to their intimacy was one thing—it was a definite step, and for now that was enough.

Hannah smiled slowly, her eyes sparkling in a way that made Leonidas draw in an audible breath.

‘Don’t worry, Leonidas Stathakis,’ she said, pushing at his shoulder so he fell back on the mattress and straddling him at the same time, surprising him so his eyes flared. ‘I’m very happy to just use you for sex for now.’

His laugh was throaty, his expression shifting into one of complete fascination.

‘Is that right?’ She took his erection in her hands, feeling his strength, running her fingertips over his length, her smile pure sensual heat.

‘Oh, yes.’ She pushed up on her haunches, then brought herself over his arousal, taking him deep inside her but so slowly that he dug his fingertips into her hips and pulled her the rest of the way, his eyes holding hers.

She bit down on her lip and arched her back and he pulled up then, sitting, wrapping his arms around her, sucking one of her nipples in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. Her breasts were so sensitive that his touch was like an arrow firing right into her central nervous system. She cried out, his name heavy on her lips, her nails on his shoulders, and he held her tighter, thrusting into her. With her on top, he reached different places, and she felt a different kind of explosion building, more intense somehow, taking over her body.

‘Leonidas.’ She ran her fingers through his hair and then cupped his face, pulling him away from her chest so she could kiss his mouth, and he kissed her back, hard, their tongues duelling, even as he shifted their body weight, spinning her, rolling her onto her back so he could take even more of her, thrusting into her hungrily, deep, hard and fast, and Hannah pushed her hands up, wrapping her fingers around the bedhead and holding on for dear life, and pleasure threatened to explode her out of this world.

He leaned forward, catching her hands, peeling them off the bedhead, lacing his fingers through hers and, as on the beach, he pinned them above her head, so his hair-roughened torso was hard against hers and every single cell in her body reacted to this tactile contact, to his nearness.

Her orgasm splintered her apart and it was Leonidas who put her back together, each gentle murmur, his voice speaking in Greek, his kiss gentle now, soft, reassuring as she flew straight into the abyss.

‘You don’t think this is overkill?’ Hannah murmured, surveying the island from the vantage point he’d driven her to. From here, she could see so much more than the house, including a full golf course, a helipad as well as the airstrip, and in the distance what looked to be a whole little village. There was a jetty, too, and another yacht was tied to it—not as large as the one in Capri, but still what Hannah had to imagine would be classed as a ‘superyacht’, beautiful and shimmering white.

‘What is?’

‘This island.’ She couldn’t help the smile that teased her lips. She’d woken that morning, in his bed, and something had felt easier between them. She knew there were demons driving him, controlling him, but they weren’t the sum total of Leonidas Stathakis.

He shrugged nonchalantly. ‘You don’t like it?’

‘Oh, I like it very much,’ she contradicted, rolling her eyes a little. ‘But who wouldn’t? I just don’t think I’ll ever get used to living like this.’

‘It’s just a bigger home than you’re used to.’

Hannah laughed at that, lifting the takeaway coffee cup she’d brought with her, sipping on it, wondering if she’d ever con herself into enjoying decaf. ‘By about three thousand times. And then there’s the expansive private beach.’

He looked at her, a smile pulling at his lips, and her heart turned over because he was really, exceptionally handsome, and when he smiled, it was as if someone had turned the music up full volume.

Her eyes dropped to his lips and her pulse gushed through her body, stirring heat in her veins and anticipation low down in her abdomen.

‘I haven’t thought about it in a long time,’ he said simply. ‘It’s just the island, to me.’

‘Naturally.’ She was still smiling as she turned her eyes back to the view. ‘Did you grow up here?’

‘No.’

‘Where, then?’

‘Athens, mainly—Kifissia. My father’s offices were in the city.’ The words were flat, carefully blanked of any emotion.

But Hannah felt it. She felt it rolling off him in waves, crashing against her, just like the ocean to the shore. She swallowed, butterflies in her tummy making her hesitate a little.

‘What happened with him?’

‘You don’t know?’

She shrugged, awkwardly. ‘I had to look you up on the Internet, to work out how to contact you.’

His eyes roamed hers, probing thoughtfully.

‘I mean, I saw a headline, but I didn’t click into it.’

‘Why not?’ His expression showed genuine surprise.

‘Because it kind of gives me the creeps. Doesn’t it you?’

He arched a brow, clearly not comprehending.

‘Well, it’s not really any of my business. It seemed private to you and your family.’ She wrinkled her nose, lost in thought. ‘I guess there’s a lot about you out there, and your brother, and your dad. But what kind of stalker would I be to read it?’

‘Your stalkerishness is someone else’s due diligence,’ he said with a quirk of his lips. ‘What if I’m some kind of pathological cheat?’

‘Are you?’ She turned her face to his, her eyes scanning his features.

‘No.’ The word was sombre.

Silence arced between them, electric and sharp. He seemed to be peeling her away, looking deep inside her, even though the question had been Hannah’s.

‘And see? I believe you.’ Her own voice was a little husky.

‘Why?’

Hannah replaced her coffee cup in the golf cart they’d been touring the island in, then spun around to face him, so their bodies were almost touching. ‘Because you’ve never lied to me, Leonidas.’

His expression tightened imperceptibly, his jaw square.

‘You told me on New Year’s Eve that we’d only ever be one night. You didn’t make big promises to get me into bed. You were honest. You were honest with me this morning. I don’t think you know how to lie.’

Leonidas looked beyond her, to the horizon. ‘Honesty is generally the best policy, is it not?’

‘Yes.’ Her smile was uneven.

‘I would have thought, having learned of your fiancé’s infidelity, you would be slow to trust anyone.’

‘So would I.’ Her voice was a little shaky. ‘But you’re nothing like Angus. You’re nothing like anyone I’ve ever met.’

At this, Leonidas’s expression tightened, and she understood that he was closing himself off, that she’d moved them into territory he couldn’t yet traverse.

‘What did he do, anyway?’

‘Who?’

‘Your father.’

‘Ah.’ He expelled a slow breath, as though fortifying himself for what would come next.

‘I gather he’s in prison?’

‘Serving a twenty-year sentence.’

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘What for? Prison is where criminals should be.’

‘Yes, but he’s your dad…’

‘Not any more.’

Hannah frowned. ‘You hate him?’

‘Yes.’

She nodded thoughtfully. ‘Why?’

‘My father turned his back on the Stathakis Corporation. He almost destroyed what my grandfather, great-grandfather, and his father had spent their lifetimes building. Ancient, proud shipping lines that funded investments in foreign hotels and then hedge funds—our operations were crippled because of him.’

‘How? Surely your company’s too big for any one man to destroy?’

‘He began to fund the mob, Hannah.’ His eyes were haunted now, furious too, zipping with tightly coiled emotions. ‘My father—who was richer than Croesus—didn’t just want money and the lifestyle it afforded. He wanted power. No, not power; he wanted people to be afraid of him. He wanted notoriety and reach.’

‘I can’t even imagine what drives a man to think like that,’ she said with a gentle shake of her head. ‘How could he have even met that element?’

‘It’s everywhere. Casinos, bars, commercial investments.’ Leonidas expelled a harsh breath. ‘He was always enamoured of that lifestyle. I’m only surprised it took so long for him to be arrested.’

‘That must have been so hard for you.’

‘I think of myself as a strong person but I have no idea how I would have coped without Thanos.’ The confession surprised her, and softened her, all at once. ‘Investigators from every country in which we do business went over our records with a fine-tooth comb. We lost anything that had been used to fund crime. Despite the fact Thanos and I had been groomed from a young age, at our grandfather’s knee, to love our company like a member of this family, to work hard to better it, we had to watch it being pulled apart, piece by piece, to see it crumble and fail.’

Sadness clouded Hannah’s eyes; the image he was painting was one that was loaded with grief.

‘What did you do?’

His expression was laced with determination and she thought of a phoenix, rising from the ashes. ‘We cut the failing businesses, sold them off piece by piece, got what we could for them and recouped by aggressively buying into emerging markets. It was a high-risk strategy, but what did we have to lose?’

Hannah felt the conversational ground shift a little beneath them. She knew there was danger ahead, but, again, something had changed, there was more clarity, as if a valve had given way and now there was a clear flow of comprehension, an understanding.

‘You said Amy was murdered in a vendetta against your father?’

His features tightened, and his jet-black eyes glittered with hatred—not for her, but for the men responsible. ‘Yes.’

It was like pulling fingernails, she knew. He didn’t want to do this, and yet, he wasn’t hiding from her, even when it was causing him pain.

‘He cut a deal with a prosecutor. Multiple life sentences were reduced to a twenty-year term, all because he handed over the names of his associates.’ Leonidas’s contempt was apparent, his lips little more than a snarl. ‘He didn’t, for one second, think of how that would affect us—those of us out here, living in this world.’

‘Perhaps he was just trying to do the right thing?’

Leonidas surprised Hannah then, because he smiled—a smile that was tinged with grief. ‘You see the world through the veneer of your goodness,’ he said after a moment. ‘You think because your motivations are pure and good, everyone else’s must always be?’

‘No.’ She frowned; it wasn’t that at all.

‘Yes,’ he insisted. ‘How else could you have become engaged to a man who was cheating on you? You trust and you forgive.’

‘Is that a bad thing?’

He was quiet, staring at her for several beats. ‘I hope not.’

Hannah expelled a soft breath. ‘Maybe I do give people more than their fair chance. But I also see the truth—I know what people are capable of, Leonidas. I’ve seen it. I’ve felt it.’

She looked away from him then, her eyes gravitating to the yacht as it bobbed on the surface of the Mediterranean. Everything was clear and pristine, and so very beautiful, like stepping into a postcard.

Leonidas’s fingers curled around her chin, gently pulling her back to face him.

‘He hurt you?’

Hannah’s eyes widened, and it took her a moment to think who he was referring to.

‘He was my fiancé, and he had an affair… Of course that hurt. But it wasn’t him alone; it was her, too. It was the fact that two of the people who were supposed to love me most in the world had been happy to betray me with one another.’ She shuddered, the shock of that moment one she wasn’t sure she’d ever get over. ‘It wasn’t losing Angus. It was the whole situation.’

His eyes devoured Hannah’s face, tasting her expression, digesting its meaning. ‘Have you spoken to her?’

Hannah shook her head. ‘I couldn’t. I can’t. I don’t know what I’d say. Growing up, our relationship wasn’t always…easy.’

‘Why not?’ he pushed, and she had a glimpse of his formidable analytical skills. She felt his determination to comprehend her words, to seek out what was at the root of them.

‘She was competitive, and frankly insecure. Her mother—Aunt Cathy—spurred her on, making comments about how we looked, or about grades.’ Hannah sighed. ‘I never bought into it. I mean, we’re all our own person, right? Run your own race. That’s what my mum used to say.’ Her smile was nostalgic, and then, it slipped from her lips like the sun being consumed by a storm cloud. ‘But my aunt…’

He waited, patiently, for her to continue. Hannah searched for the words.

‘She measured us against each other non-stop.’

‘And your cousin didn’t measure up?’

Hannah’s eyes shot to Leonidas’s. ‘I didn’t say that.’

‘No, you are being deliberately tactful on that score.’

There was enough praise in that observation to bring heat to Hannah’s cheeks, but she denied it.

‘I’m not being coy. I just don’t think like that. Michelle struggled at school; I didn’t. I suspect she has some kind of undiagnosed dyslexia—no matter how much time we spent going over things, she found the comprehension impossible. I think she wasn’t able to read clearly, and covered it by acting uninterested.’

‘You mentioned this to your aunt?’

Hannah nodded. ‘Once. She was furious.’ Hannah’s expression was unconsciously pained, her features pinched tight as her gaze travelled back towards the ocean.

‘And you, in comparison, excelled at your studies?’

Hannah nodded slowly. ‘Some people respond well to the school system, others don’t. I’m lucky in that I’m one of the former.’

‘And a lifetime of feeling compared to has made you downplay your natural abilities even now, here, to me.’

She startled at that insight. ‘It’s the truth.’

‘It is also the truth to say you are intelligent, and I would bet my fortune on the fact you worked hard at school, too.’ He softened his tone a little, but didn’t quit his line of questioning. ‘Isn’t it possible that your aunt resented how well you did, compared to Michelle? That she couldn’t get help for her daughter because it would be admitting she was, in some way, inferior?’

‘If I’m right and Michelle had a learning difficulty of sorts then she could have been helped, and achieved far better results than she did.’

He dipped his head in a silent concession. ‘But your aunt didn’t want to pursue that. And so, instead, she took away your dreams, condemning you to a life of mediocrity so her own daughter would look better in comparison?’

Hannah sucked in a sharp breath, his words like acid rain against her flesh. ‘I don’t think you could call my life mediocre…’

‘You should have been studying law, poised to move into the career you really wanted. And your aunt should have been supporting you. This is what you meant, when you said you have felt what people are capable of?’

She opened her mouth to deny it, but he was too insightful. Too right. She shrugged instead, lifting her shoulders and turning away from him.

‘Where was your uncle in all of this?’

‘Gary?’

‘You speak of your aunt and your cousin, but I have not heard you say his name once.’

‘He worked a lot. We weren’t close.’

‘And yet he must have known how his wife was behaving. He did nothing?’

‘It’s not like that. Aunt Cathy isn’t a monster. It’s complicated.’

‘How?’

Hannah shook her head thoughtfully. ‘It was so long ago, and I don’t really know anything for certain. It’s more just things I’ve picked up from throwaway comments. I think she was very close to my dad—her brother. And when Mum entered the scene, Aunt Cathy was jealous. Hurt. My mum was…’ Hannah’s smile was melancholy and she closed her eyes, seeing Eleanor May as she’d been in life—so vital, so beautiful. ‘She was a pretty amazing woman. A diplomat for the United Nations, well travelled, passionate, funny, and so stunning.’

‘So this is where you get it from,’ he murmured, the compliment wrapping around her, filling her with gold dust.

Hannah smiled slowly, memories of her past pulling at her. ‘I used to love watching her get ready for parties. She had this long, dark brown hair, like chocolate, that fell to her waist. She would coil it up into a bun, high on the top of her head, so that whatever dangly earrings she chose to wear would take your breath away.’ Hannah felt him come closer, his body heat and proximity firing something in her blood.

‘And she and Dad were so happy together. They used to laugh, all the time. I was just a kid when they died, but I’ll never forget them, I’ll never forget how lucky I was to have them as my example in life.’

He was quiet, but it didn’t matter. Some part of Leonidas had slipped into Hannah, forming a part of her, so she understood—she understood his silence equated to disapproval of Aunt Cathy, and her inability to let Hannah properly grieve.

And long-held needs to defend Aunt Cathy were difficult to ignore. ‘Cathy and Gary weren’t like my parents. They married young, because she was pregnant. She lost the baby but they stayed together and it always felt a bit like they resented each other.’

She turned to face him then, her chest heavy with the myriad sadnesses of the past. ‘I don’t want our marriage to be like that, Leonidas.’

Her eyes raked his face and she chewed her lower lip thoughtfully as he stared at her, his eyes unshifting from hers, his expression impossible to interpret.

‘I was wrong about you.’ Leonidas’s words came out hoarse, thickened by regret.

‘When?’

‘I presumed you did not know enough of grief to counsel me, to offer me any thoughts on my own experiences. That was incredibly arrogant.’ He lifted a hand, running it over her hair, his attention shifting higher, as if mesmerised by the auburn shades there, flecked with gold. ‘I downplayed what you have been through because I couldn’t believe anyone could feel loss like mine.’

‘It’s not like yours,’ she said softly, gently, her heart breaking. ‘No grief is the same. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose your partner, nor your child.’ She shook her head sadly from side to side. ‘I’m five months pregnant and the idea of anything ever happening to our daughter fills me with a kind of rage I can’t put into words.’ Her lips twisted in a humourless smile. ‘You must be a mix of anger and fury and pain and disbelief all the time.’ She swallowed, rallying her thoughts. ‘You don’t need to apologise to me. I understood what you meant.’

‘But I didn’t understand you,’ he insisted. ‘I didn’t realise that beyond the somewhat sanitised phrase of “orphan” are all the memories of parents you loved, parents who made you happy and secure, parents who were replaced by an inferior substitute—an insecure and competitive woman who spent her life trying to diminish you.’

Hannah’s lips pulled downwards, as she tried to reconcile his vision of Aunt Cathy.

‘You should have studied law,’ he said, simply. ‘And anyone who loved you would have pushed you to do that, supporting you, encouraging you, making it easier—not harder—to pursue your dreams.’

Hannah’s heart turned over in her chest, because he was right. Even Angus hadn’t said as much to her.

‘Your parents left you money. That could have been used to fund your studies.’

‘I couldn’t access it yet, not for another two years.’

‘But a bank would have loaned against that expectation, if your aunt and uncle couldn’t cover your expenses in the interim. There were ways for you to live your dreams but she held you back because she didn’t want you to succeed.’

Something sparked in Hannah’s chest because he was right, and she’d made excuses for Cathy and Gary all her life and she didn’t want to do it any more.

‘I miss my mum and dad every day,’ she said, simply, focussing on the only kernel of good she could grasp at. ‘Especially now.’ She ran a hand over her stomach, thinking of the daughter growing inside her, and love burst in her soul.

The air between them resonated with understanding, with compassion, and then Hannah blinked away, moving her focus to the vista before them.

Their conversation was serious, and yet she felt a shifting lightness in her heart, a sense of newness. Perhaps it was simply the beauty of the day, or looking down over the horizon and seeing so much that fascinated her, so much to explore, but she found herself smiling.

‘What’s down there?’ She nodded towards the village she could see in the distance. ‘I thought this was a private island.’

‘It is. That’s the staff quarters.’

‘Staff quarters?’

His smile was teasing. ‘Where did you think all the people in the house went to at night?’

‘I didn’t think about it,’ she said, and he smiled then, a smile that was natural and easy and that made her pulse feel as if it had hitched a ride on a roller coaster and were zipping and whooshing through her body.

‘There are about fifteen gardeners, Mrs Chrisohoidis, her husband Andreo, who oversees the island, the domestic staff, chefs, and I have two personal assistants based out of the island for when I need to work.’

Hannah’s eyes flew wide. ‘Seriously?’

‘And their families,’ he said, still smiling, the words lightly mocking.

She shook her head from side to side, wondering at how anyone could have this kind of money.

‘It takes a team to manage all this.’ He gestured with his palm to the island.

She nodded. ‘And then the yacht crew, too?’

He nodded. ‘They stay on board, though there are dorms for when the boat is here over winter.’

‘You must spend a fortune in salaries.’

‘I suppose I do.’ He wasn’t smiling now, but he was looking at her with a heat that simmered her blood. He lifted a hand to her hair once more, tucking it behind her ear slowly, watchfully.

‘There’s the security team, as well,’ he said, and she felt his past pulling him deep into a raging ocean.

‘Greg Hassan lives here?’

‘Greg lives in Athens. He oversees Stathakis Corp, including my brother Thanos’s security arrangements, and our company procedures. He has a manager on the island, and there are thirteen guards permanently placed here.’

‘Thirteen?’ She exhaled. ‘Security guards?’

‘It used to be only four,’ he said nonchalantly.

‘But because of me it’s thirteen?’

‘Because of you, and because of her.’ He dropped a hand to Hannah’s stomach, and right at that moment one of the little popping sensations Hannah had become used to reared to life, and Leonidas’s eyes widened in wonder.

‘Did she just kick me?’

Hannah laughed, but there was a sting of happy tears against her eyelids. ‘She’s telling you we don’t need anything like that kind of security.’

‘I think she’s giving me a high five of agreement.’

Hannah laughed and Leonidas did, too. She had no way of knowing how long it had been since he’d felt genuine amusement, or the occurrence might have taken her breath away even more than the sound did on its own.

Hannah lay with her head on Leonidas’s chest, in the small hours of the next day, listening to his heart. It beat slow and steady in sleep. She lay there, her naked body close to his, their limbs tangled with the crisp white sheets, their bodies spent, her body round with the baby they’d made, and she smiled.

Because there was such randomness in this, and yet such perfection, too.

How could she have known that one night of unplanned sensual heat would lead to this? She lay with her head on his chest, listening to the solid beating of his heart, and admitted to herself there was nowhere on earth she’d rather be.