Читать книгу Marriage Of Convenience: The Andreou Marriage Arrangement / The Replacement Wife - HELEN BIANCHIN - Страница 12

LOUKAS dragged a hand through his damp hair and reached for a towel.

A shower had eased some of the muscular tension, but not the slow-burning anger existent, for there was a part of him that wanted to physically harm the man whose mistreatment had seeded fear in the woman he’d married.

There was a word for it. And legal redress.

The question was whether Alesha had pressed charges.

Possibly not, in a bid to avoid publicity.

His eyes narrowed as he pulled on boxers…nightwear he rarely donned. The women he’d bedded were comfortable with their nudity, as well as his own.

What in hell had Alesha’s ex done to turn a confident outgoing young woman into someone who had serious issues with intimacy?

Rape…physical abuse? Both?

His hands clenched into tight fists at the thought of her being subjected to either.

And paused momentarily to wonder why it affected him to this degree.

Had Dimitri known of his daughter’s mistreatment?

Subdued lighting greeted him as he re-entered the bedroom, and his gaze swept to the slender form beneath the covers of the bed adjacent his own.

Was she asleep…or merely contriving to give that impression?

Loukas slid between the covers of his own bed, closed the lights, then lay quietly as he reflected on his every move since their arrival home from the fundraiser.

She had kissed like an angel…and he was willing to swear her reaction to his touch had been genuine.

Until she had panicked and fought against him with a desperation born of fear. Hardly the action of someone who’d sought counselling and emerged whole.

It was a while before he slept, and he came sharply awake at a soft beeping sound that had him reaching for the security sensor unit.

The glass door leading onto the terrace was unsecured, and the heat sensor detected a human form occupying a chair.

He moved quietly to his feet, checked the adjoining bed and discovered it empty.

The luminous dial on his watch showed it was several minutes past three.

Alesha? It had to be, and he extracted jeans and pulled them on, then added a tee shirt, before going in search of her.

With sure movements he crossed the gallery and ran lightly downstairs.

Subtle garden illumination provided sufficient light for him to see the slight feminine form curled up on one of four cushioned cane sofas nestled around a glass-topped table.

He made a point of ensuring she heard his approach, and he caught the quick movement of her hands as she brushed each cheek before turning towards him.

Tears?

Somehow the thought of her needing to retreat out here to cry alone touched a place in his heart he’d previously considered beyond reach.

The night air held a faint chill, and he sank down onto the sofa beside her.

‘Unable to sleep?’ He kept his voice light, and caught the slight shake of her head.

‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’

‘The security sensor,’ Loukas corrected. ‘It beeped an alert when you opened the external door.’

His features were shadowed in the half-light, and in the distance the city breathed life with its coloured neon billboards, street-lighting…casting a dappled reflection over the dark inner harbour waters.

In a few hours the indigo sky would begin to lighten as dawn emerged, providing colour and substance to the new day.

‘It’s peaceful out here,’ Alesha offered, aware her voice was edged with tiredness. Hardly surprising since she hadn’t slept at all. Yet she didn’t feel inclined to move.

Nor did she particularly want to converse. The silence of the night, the solitude it offered, acted as a soothing balm, and most of all she simply wanted to close her eyes and let it wash over her, cleanse a little and ease the ache deep inside.

There was a psychological process she needed to travel, a series of steps that would lead her from the dark back into the light, and it was better she took them alone. Then she could sleep.

‘Go back to bed,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m fine.’

Sure she was.

‘Please.’

It was the please that reached him, but he merely looked at her. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

Okay, so she’d pretend he wasn’t there.

Difficult, when his presence acted as a compelling entity impossible to ignore. He radiated innate strength and vitality…a dramatic mesh, even in repose, that made her incredibly aware of him.

Fool, she denounced in silent self-castigation. Why…why did you go into orbit, when you’d mentally conditioned yourself to have sex with him?

Now you’ve created a wedge…oh, call it as it is…an emotional physical chasm so deep and wide, it’ll be almost impossible to breach.

There was a part of her that felt inclined to urge him to take her to bed and…just do it.

Sure. Like he was going to risk her freaking out again? What man would be willing to risk rejection after being so convincingly repelled?

How could she explain that as much as she’d wanted his possession…somehow at the crucial moment Seth’s angry image had superimposed Loukas’ own.

‘Did your ex rape you?’

His voice was quiet, steady…yet she flinched from the words, and it took a few long moments to gather herself together.

‘Rape conjures up a picture involving violence.’

Loukas took hold of her hand and threaded his fingers loosely through her own. ‘Sex between consenting adults should be consensual. Not a demand or used as a punishment.’

The shadows helped. His closeness provided security. And he deserved to know some of it. All of it, eventually, but for now some of it would be enough.

‘Seth played a convincing part,’ she began quietly. ‘He fooled me, but not my father, who was against the marriage from the start.’ She couldn’t look at him. ‘It began almost as soon as we were married, with insults at first—about my lack of spine in demanding a substantial salary package, perks. When I refused to comply, he became…rough.’

Loukas kept his voice even, in spite of the anger building inside him. ‘He hit you.’

‘Yes.’

‘More?’

‘Some,’ she admitted, and heard the breath hiss between his teeth.

That any man could hurt her…dammit, harm her physically and emotionally enraged him. Yet if he showed any sign of it, she’d retreat even further behind the barrier she’d erected in self-protection.

She needed time to trust him, and he could give her that…even if it killed him to do so.

Meanwhile, it wouldn’t be difficult to discover the date of her first marriage, and uncover any hospital records…if any of her injuries had required hospital attention.

It became a matter of importance he discover as much as he could about what had transpired during her brief marriage. Better that, than push her for details she was reluctant to share.

For how else could he help resolve her issue with intimacy without all of the facts?

‘If it’s okay with you,’ Alesha managed quietly, ‘I’d prefer not to go into it any more tonight.’

This morning, he amended.

So where did they go from here?

With extreme care on his part.

The immediate agenda had to be a return to bed.

Soon the sky would begin to lighten, the birdlife stir and twitter with sound, and car engines would herald workers begin their trek to commence an early shift.

Dawn’s break would bring men and women out for their early morning run, and the day would begin.

Sunday indicated recreation and relaxation for some. The beach, time spent cruising the inner harbour waters, following cultural pursuits, entertaining guests, sporting activities.

Maybe she’d give Lacey a call and suggest they share part of the day together. Shop a little, linger over a latte at one of their favoured cafés.

There was pleasure in the thought, and a sense of encroaching drowsiness…something she fought, unaware of Loukas’ thoughtful gaze as her eyelids slowly drifted down.

For several long minutes he viewed her softened features, noted her even breathing, then he rose quietly to his feet and carefully lifted her into his arms.

She didn’t stir, and he carried her easily into the house, reset security, then he took her upstairs to their room.

He breathed in the clean smell of her hair combined with the soft drift of her perfume, and tamped down the stirring of desire.

Feelings he hadn’t expected to experience, born from an emotion he consciously chose not to explore.

The covers were thrown back on the bed Alesha had occupied, and she uttered a faint protest as he relinquished his hold.

With easy economical movements he shed his jeans, tee shirt, snapped off the bed-lamp and slid into bed beside her.

With extreme care he enfolded her slender body close in against him, felt her stir, and he soothed a hand over her hair…again and again, until a soft sigh emerged from her throat and she relaxed against him in sleep, her cheek resting into the curve of his shoulder.

He could offer her safety, and hold her through the night. Be there for her, and help soothe her fears.

Of the many social functions Alesha had attended in the past, tonight’s fundraiser took precedence, and was one in which she maintained a personal interest.

Children who’d suffered abuse at the hands of those who professed to love them. Adults, whose trust they deserved, yet failed to receive. The varying shades of grey to the deepest black, covering circumstances too grim for the average person to comprehend.

Tonight a few children’s plight would be highlighted in order to touch the guests’ hearts and persuade them to give generously.

Alesha chose a black bandage-design gown that hugged her slender curves and showcased delicate-textured skin. She confined jewellery to a slender gold necklace with matching ear-studs and bracelet, and black killer heels completed the outfit.

Minimum make-up, with emphasis on her eyes, she opted to leave her hair loose in a soft feminine style.

The event drew a pleasing number of guests, and she stood at Loukas’ side sipping champagne, acutely aware of his close proximity.

He portrayed the man he was…sophisticated, urbane, highly intelligent, successful. And he wore the verbal labels with ease, comfortable in his own skin with little, if anything, to prove.

And he was hers.

Well, not in the truest sense…yet. She bore his name, wore his ring, and she…liked him.

Admit it, you find him stunningly attractive. Sexy…incredibly sexy, she amended. And there was a part of her that craved the intimacy she instinctively rejected.

So why did she feel as if she were treading eggshells, aware she consciously watched everything she said, every action, in case it was misconstrued.

At work, home, and on social occasions such as this when she played the part of recently married happy wife.

A young woman who, by all accounts, should be ecstatic to be bedding one of the most eligible men on planet earth.

‘Penny for them?’

She tilted her head and gifted him a teasing smile. ‘Not for sharing, at any price.’

Loukas’ mouth curved a little, and the hand resting at the base of her spine brushed a light trail up her back to linger at the lower edge of her nape.

Sensation spiralled through her body, and it took conscious effort to hold his dark gaze.

Dear heaven, she was almost flirting with him…for real. Not the best idea, given the tenuous quality of their relationship.

Yet it was fun, almost safe. Although was it? If you played with fire, you tended to get burnt.

So chill, and don’t risk conflagration.

Their table was well placed, the company stimulating, and the food delectable.

The speeches held a poignancy that speared her heart, and her eyes clouded…for she could envisage so much more than the mere words conveyed. At one point her fingers tightened into a fist, and her lacquered nails dug into her palm. No one should be a victim of abuse…dear heaven, especially never a child.

Almost as if he sensed her torment, Loukas placed his hand over hers until she released her grip. His silent presence and strength comforted her and she gave him a tentative smile and returned his hold on her hand, suddenly glad he was there with her this evening.

The entertainment for the night comprised a designer fashion showing, with elegant models parading the catwalk, followed by an auction of the garments with a generous percentage gifted to the charity.

It lightened the evening, with the auctioneer really getting into the swing of it, encouraging bidders to raise the stakes.

One gown caught Alesha’s interest, a deep red silk with spaghetti straps attached to a beautiful ruched bodice and a soft floor-length tiered skirt.

Loukas indicated his bid, and escalated it by increments until it reached an exorbitant amount and the one remaining bidder pulled out.

Alesha leaned towards him and said in a subdued but scandalized voice, ‘Are you crazy?’

‘It’s a worthy cause.’ His voice held a teasing indolence as he brushed his lips to her temple. ‘And the gown is perfect for you.’

Oh, my. For an instant the room and everyone in it faded into nothing as his eyes locked with her own, and something violently sweet coursed through her body.

His mouth curved into an easy smile, almost as if he knew.

‘Thanks.’ On impulse she pressed her lips to his cheek…at least that was her intention, except he moved and her mouth met his own, and a light kiss became something else as he savoured her briefly before lifting his head.

Colour filled her cheeks, and he trailed light fingers over the soft heat, then skimmed over one shoulder to rest at the edge of her waist.

‘Dear Alesha,’ a light feminine voice intruded. ‘So nice to see you happy in your new marriage.’

Recovery was swift as she summoned a smile and turned towards the woman who’d stopped by to offer congratulations, only to have her heart sink.

Nicolette de Silva had a reputation for lacking tact. Even the kindest amongst her coterie of friends admitted Nicolette didn’t think before she opened her mouth.

‘Her brief liaison with that terrible man was a disaster,’ Nicolette confided to Loukas. ‘But then, of course, you know about that?’

‘Naturally.’ His voice was smooth as silk. Sufficiently so that most people would immediately cease pursuing the subject and move on.

‘There were rumours, some of them extreme.’ Nicolette offered a conciliatory smile. ‘I believe Seth Armitage tried to sell his side of the story to the media, but nothing came of it, isn’t that right, Alesha?’

Alesha’s fingers clenched beneath the cover of the tablecloth, and she tensed as Loukas again took her hand in his and traced soothing fingers across the pulsing veins at her wrist.

Support? Whatever, it felt…pleasant, comforting.

A double whammy, she admitted silently as the action increased her pulse-beat and made her increasingly aware of him.

She tried to tell herself she was immune to gossip. Three years on she’d heard it all…first and second-hand. The inquisitive comments she chose not to concede or deny. The false expressions of sympathy. Each a quest for information she refused to give.