Читать книгу Greek Affairs: Claiming His Child: The Greek's Million-Dollar Baby Bargain / The Greek Millionaire's Secret Child / The Greek's Long-Lost Son - Rebecca Winters - Страница 12

THE SUN WAS SCARCELY UP, but Ann was lying in bed, wakeful and tormented. She would have to go. Leave Sospiris. There was no other option. She couldn’t stay here now!

I’ll have to think of something—something to tell Ari, Mrs Theakis. Something—anything!

Except the truth. Even as she lay there she felt a semi-hysterical bubble inside her at the thought of Mrs Theakis knowing …

She shuddered in horror, feeling her skin flush.

How am I going to face her? How can I even have breakfast with her—knowing what I did, where I was?

And yet she was going to have to. Going to have to somehow get through the morning, behave normally, then dream up some plausible reason why she had to go back to England.

A spear stabbed her. Ari! Ari would be so upset, so distressed! Wasn’t it bad enough he was about to lose Tina? Now she was proposing to walk out on him as well.

For ever.

Because unless by some miracle Mrs Theakis invited her here again when Nikos was somewhere else—like Australia, or better still Antarctica!—or perhaps herself come to London some time, then how could she possibly ever see Ari again? She could never go anywhere near Nikos Theakis again—never!

Abruptly, another emotion stabbed into her. One that was shocking, unforgivable—shameless!

Never to see Nikos again—

Instantly, viciously, she slammed down on the emotion, crushing it brutally, punishingly. How could she stoop so low? How could she? And how could a man who thought her the lowest of the low, who had said such cruel, vile things about her sister, a man she had hated for four long years, have possibly made love to her the way he had?

Her face hardened. Made love? Was she stupid or something? Nikos Theakis hadn’t ‘made love’ to her! He’d had sex with her! That was all he’d done—all he’d wanted. Bitter humiliation seared through her. Oh, how could she have fallen into bed with him like that? Just because he looked like a Greek god. Just because she felt weak at the knees because he was so devastating a male that any woman, every woman, would turn and stare at him and yearn for him to look their way …

Anguished, hating herself almost as much as she hated Nikos Theakis, Ann went on staring at the ceiling, counting the hours till she could escape from Sospiris. Escape from Nikos.

But what had seemed imperative as she lay sleepless and tormented on her bed became far, far more difficult when she had to face Mrs Theakis at breakfast.

‘Leave us?’ Sophia Theakis’ eyes widened in surprise. ‘Surely not?’ Her gaze shifted as the doors to the morning room opened. ‘Nikos! Ann is saying that she may have to return to London.’

Ann felt herself freeze. Not for all the power on earth would she turn her head to see Nikos stalk in. But nothing could stop her hearing his deep voiced reply as he took his place. ‘Out of the question. It was agreed that she would stay until after Tina’s wedding so that Ari would be least unsettled. Is that not so, Ann?’

Her head swivelled. And immediately, fight it as she might, she felt colour stain vividly across her cheekbones at the sight of him. He was casually dressed in a pale cream polo shirt with a discreetly expensive logo on it, hair still damp and jaw freshly shaved. At once, vivid and hot, sprang the memory of his roughened skin against her last night as his mouth possessed hers … Her colour deepened.

His eyes were holding hers, challenging them—branding them.

She bit her lip, and saw something flare deep within. ‘I—I—’ she began, then floundered. Rational thought, speech, was impossible. ‘It’s just that—’ she tried again, and failed.

Another expression shot through Nikos’s eyes. She could have sworn it was satisfaction.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Then that is settled. You will stay, as agreed, until after Tina’s wedding. And then …’ His eyes flicked to her momentarily, as his hand reached for the jug of freshly squeezed orange juice in front of him. ‘Then we shall see. Who knows, Ann, what will happen after Tina’s wedding, hmm? In the meantime today, with Ari occupied with his playmate from Maxos arriving with Tina later this morning, it is more than time, I think, that I showed you something more of Sospiris than you have already seen.’

Calmly, he started to drink his orange juice. Numbly, Ann turned back to Mrs Theakis, as though she might somehow save her from so dire a fate. But as she turned she caught for a fleeting moment a strange, assessing look in the older woman’s eyes, as they hovered between her guest and her son. Then an instant later it was gone, and Ann could only think—only hope!—she had imagined it.

Sophia Theakis’ expression had changed to a serene smile. ‘That is a lovely idea, Nikos. Sospiris has many hidden beauties, Ann,’ she said benignly, ‘and I’m sure my son will show you all of them.’

With monumental effort, Ann schooled her face into complaisance. Inside, she felt like jelly.

Nikos gunned the Jeep impatiently. Where was she? If she was planning on trying to get out of this, he would simply go and fetch her. But she would come. His mother would see to it.

For a moment his expression wavered. It was not comfortable, being under the eye of his mother in these circumstances. But it was for her sake that he was doing this—even though, of course, she could not know that. But for her to be burdened indefinitely, leached off by the female she thought so well of just because he could not open her eyes to Ann Turner’s true character, was not something he was prepared to tolerate. What he was prepared to tolerate, however, was his own disapproval of the course of action he had decided to pursue—a course of action that he’d already taken a decision on as he’d walked back into the bedroom the night before.

To hell with it! To hell with warnings about playing with fire—it was too damn late for that. He’d not just played with fire—he’d set the bed ablaze! And it, and he, had gone up in a sheet of flame. So any warnings, any regrets, were too little, too late. If there was one thing that was now absolutely clear—had become forcibly even more crystal-clear when he’d seen his empty bed and realised that Ann had run away—it was that he was counting the hours until he could possess her again.

The remainder of his night had been a sleepless one, but not because he had been repining his seduction any more—it had been because his bed was empty, and he very definitely did not want it to be empty. He’d almost gone after her. Why she had done a runner he had no idea—unless it was to see whether he would come chasing after her. Or—a sudden frown had knitted his brow darkly—was she belatedly, seeking to assume a virtue she had just very amply demonstrated she did not have?

He brushed the thought aside. Of course Ann Turner possessed not a shred of virtue! How could she, when she had sold her own flesh and blood for cold hard cash? For a fleeting moment something jarred in his brain. The vivid memory of their union burned again in his mind. Could the woman who had so inflamed him, with whom he had cried out at the searing moment of their fulfilment—a fulfilment deeper and more intense than any he had experienced—really be the same woman whose grasping fingers had greedily closed over the cheques he had so contemptuously handed her?

And yet she was. She was that same woman. However much she inflamed him he must never forget that—not for a moment.

Certainly not now, as she finally emerged from the villa, her face set, not meeting his eyes, simply clambering up into the Jeep without a word, ignoring his hand reaching across the seat to help her in. Angry irritation flared briefly in Nikos at her obvious intention of refusing to acknowledge him. He released the handbrake, let in the clutch and sheered off, his eyes behind the sunglasses hard. He drove fast, not bothering to take the bumpy track easily, and was conscious that Ann was hanging on grimly, refusing to ask him to slow down.

He didn’t stop until he slewed the Jeep to a halt at the far end of the island, down by Ari’s ‘secret beach’. He’d brought Ann here deliberately. Not only would they not be disturbed, but the beach hut was ideal for his purposes. It was not luxurious, but it contained the essentials—mainly a bed.

As he cut the engine, tossing his dark glasses on to the dashboard, a silence seemed to descend along with the settling cloud of white dust around the car.

He turned towards Ann. She was still sitting with one hand clutched at the doorframe, the other planted on the dash to steady herself. Her expression was stony. She was wearing, Nikos realised, exactly the same outfit she’d worn when they’d brought Ari here—beige cotton trousers and a long-sleeved T-shirt. His eyes glinted mordantly. Did she think such a drab outfit would put him off? And why, pray, the cold shoulder? The glint came again, and there was a spark of anger in it now. ‘Cold’ had not been the word for her last night.

Time to stop this, right now.

‘Ann,’ he began, his voice edged, ‘I don’t know what you think you’re playing at, but—’

Her head swivelled. The expression in her eyes was scorching.

‘Playing at?’ she threw back at him. ‘I’m not playing at anything! I have absolutely no idea what the hell you think you’re doing, but—’

He laughed. He couldn’t help it. The scorching look in her eyes intensified. Absently, he noticed how it made them even more luminous.

‘What I think I’m doing, Ann,’ he said—and now the edge in his voice had gone, replaced by something very differerent, ‘is this—’

He reached for her. Unable to help himself. He’d been wanting to do it since he’d walked into breakfast and seen her there, feeling a punch to his system that had made him want to walk right up to her and sweep her to him.

She was pliant in his arms as he drew her to him, and satisfaction surged through him as he lowered his mouth to hers. The next moment she had gone rigid—as rigid as a board—and her hands were balling against his chest, her mouth jerking away.

‘Let me go! Let me—’

His mouth silenced her, catching her lips and his hand at her back slid up to hold the base of her skull, fingers spearing into her silken hair. God, she felt so good to kiss! So sweet and soft and honeyed—

Her momentary resistance had vanished, melted away into his kiss, and he took instant possession. He felt her hands splaying out, pressing through his polo shirt against the wall of his chest.

He kissed her thoroughly, deeply—arousingly. And not just arousing her. His own body was responding as though a switch had been thrown, and desire swept through him.

Eventually, breathlessly, he surfaced, holding her still, gazing down into her eyes. They were huge.

‘You were saying?’ he said. The amusement was in his voice again, but different now—husky and low.

For a moment she just gazed at him blindly. Then, with a little choke, she tugged free. He let her go—he had proved his point. Handsomely.

Her face was strained. ‘I don’t want this.’ Her voice was faint, hands knotting in her lap. ‘I don’t want it.’

His eyes glinted. ‘Ann, no games. Not now. Last night proved that amply.’ The glint intensified. ‘Very amply.’

He started to reach for her again, but this time she was faster. She thrust open the Jeep door and leapt down. Nikos stared with a mix of exasperation and incredulity as she started to march back along the track. Was the girl mad? It would take a good hour to walk back to the villa, and the sun was getting high in the sky. He gave a rasp of irritation and went after her. She was only doing it as some kind of grand gesture, though heaven knew why.

He caught up with her in seconds and turned her round towards him. She was rigid, face clenched.

‘Take your hands off me,’ she gritted, eyes sparking. ‘I told you I don’t want this! What part of that don’t you understand?’ she bit out.

Something shifted in his eyes. ‘This,’ he said. Deliberately, quite deliberately, he lifted a hand to her face, letting the other one drop from her arm so that she was quite free. His eyes never leaving her, he simply drew his index finger down her cheek—lightly, like a feather.

He saw her eyes flicker, saw her pupils dilate. Then he let his hand fall.

She didn’t turn, or run, or march away. She simply stood there, on the track, the sun pouring down on her pale hair, swaying slightly. There was a helpless look on her face.

‘That’s the part I don’t understand, Ann,’ he said, his voice low. ‘The part where I only have to touch you and you respond to me. Or not even touch you …’

His gaze held hers, lambent with desire for her. ‘Do you think I haven’t wanted you from when I first saw how beautiful you had become? All that was required was—opportunity.’ His hand lifted to her face again. This time he slid his fingers around her jaw, feathering her hair, his thumb playing with the tender lobe of her ear. She did not move. Very slowly, her eyelashes lowered over her eyes. His other hand lifted, his thumb going to her lips, tracing across their fullness. Then, as she still stood there motionless, eyes shut in the silence all around, he gently pressed down on her lower lip with the pad of his thumb, even as his mouth came down sensuously, languorously, to take its place.

He felt her give. Felt her mouth slowly start to move against his. Felt the stiffness leave her body, the rigidity ease, dissolve. She was dissolving against him. She was exploring, tasting every moment of the sweet, delectable arousing. How long he kissed her, standing as they were alone, at the edge of the deserted beach, he did not know. Only knew that at some point he let his mouth ease from hers, felt his hand slip into hers, take it lightly, loosely, but enough to lead her, as if she were still in a daze, towards the little stone building. She came willingly, unresistingly.

Just as he had known she would.

Light filtered through the wooden shutters. It slanted narrow fingers across the bed, casting planes of dark and shade across the strong face lying so close to Ann’s. She lay looking at it a moment. The eyes were shut and the features in repose. He looked—replete. The word came to her, and she knew it was apt. For herself she was—drained. Drained of everything—all emotion, all will. She could only go on lying there, her naked body held slackly against his. Her mind was a miasma, floating adrift in a strange state. She’d gone, she knew, beyond conscious thought—because what could she think? What was it possible to think, rationally, about what she had done? What was happening? It wasn’t possible, that was all.

It was barely sane …

Because how could it be sane to sink again into the bliss she had known last night when that bliss came courtesy of a man who made his contempt of her no secret? And yet that man, that harsh, condemning man, so sneeringly offering her money for Ari, for her time here on Sospiris, seemed a universe away from the man who had initiated her into an ecstasy she had never known existed …

She felt something squeeze inside her that was almost pain.

But it’s the same man … The whisper formed in her head, and she felt that strange, squeezing pain again.

Her eyes shadowed. Is it the same man—is it?

Her head told her yes, but her body—oh, her body denied it with all its power.

Without conscious thought, she let her hand press against his warm, hard body, smoothed the golden skin. He was so beautiful to touch. She felt her heart give that little squeeze again, felt a strange catch in her breath, as if in wonder—in homage—at such perfection.

The long lashes lifted from his eyes, and immediately his gaze focussed on her. Equally immediately she felt as if those incredible dark eyes were piercing right into her. She felt naked—

‘Ann—’

It was all he said, but it was said in a voice that sounded as replete as he was. He glided the hand resting on her upper arm along its smooth surface. It was not sexual, not arousing. It was just because she was there. In his bed. Beside him.

‘Ann,’ he said again, and drew her more closely against him, settling himself into the bedding, feeling her slender body curved against his. It felt good—but then everything about her felt good. Idly, he went on smoothing his palm along her upper arm. He felt full, at rest. And after a while he started to caress her again.

This time arousingly.

And yet again Ann went with him where he wanted to go.

The Jeep was rattling over the trackway again, heading back to the villa. Nikos was driving a lot more sedately now—and why not? His ill-tempered mood of the outward journey had disappeared completely. Of course it had! Ann’s ludicrous and incomprehensible show of resistance had taken him nothing more than a few moments to dispose of. Why she’d done it he had no idea, and he didn’t much care. It had obviously been some kind of ploy, and it had equally obviously been completely pointless. Anyway, it was irrelevant now. All that mattered was that it was over and would not be returning.

A smile played around his mouth. No, Ann had proved—conclusively and incontrovertibly—that she was completely incapable of resisting him. Which was exactly what he’d known all along.

Just as he’d known—the smile around his mouth deepened—that his decision to stick to the strategy of making Ann Turner his mistress was the right one. Every cell in his body told him blatantly that it was certainly the right one for him personally.

As his mistress, Ann Turner was malleable, enjoyable—definitely enjoyable!—and above all disposable. His strategy was foolproof. He’d been mad to think it had any risk to it. Not only was he now going to be able to stop Ann Turner from being a thorn in his flesh, but her own exquisite flesh was his to enjoy—to enjoy with an intensity that had proved as real today as it had last night. Just why there was such an extraordinary intensity he didn’t much care—he wasn’t about to question it, just make the most of it.

Whenever he could.

His smile faded, replaced by a tightening of his mouth. Now, that was going to be an impediment he didn’t welcome. But it would have to be managed, all the same, until he could take Ann back to Athens with him.

He turned his head to speak to her.

‘We’re going to have to be discreet, you understand? But I will see what can be done to make time for you.’

A looming hairpin bend made him look back at the road. Then, having negotiated it, he said, having got no response to his comment, ‘Ann?’

He glanced at her again. She appeared not to have heard him.

‘Ann?’ he said again, now with a slight edge in his voice.

‘Yes, I heard you. Thank you,’ she answered.

Nikos considered her profile. Was she put out because he’d said they would need to be discreet? Perhaps she didn’t understand that there was no way he was going to expose his mother to what they were doing? Or perhaps she thought he was not intending to continue with her—or that the necessity for discretion was in fact a lack of appreciation for her on his part? Well, that could easily be sorted—no problem. He knew exactly what would keep her sweet.

And it wasn’t just sex …

Ann sat on her bed, the shutters of her bedroom window drawn, locking out the light of the day. Locking out the world. She had told a maid she’d passed on her way in that she had a migraine and would be keeping to her room.

Blankness enveloped her. She knew with one part of her mind that it was a kind of safety mechanism, like anaesthesia, blocking everything else out. The blankness made her calm—very calm. In a little while, but not just now, she would think about what she had to do. But not just yet. Not quite yet. Soon.

She ought to go down and see Ari. After all, that was why she was here. But she couldn’t face it. She needed time—time here on her own, with the world locked out, safe.

Safe from Nikos.

But she wasn’t safe from him. She had proved that, conclusively and indelibly. He only had to touch her and she was lost.

And there was no point bewailing it, no point being angry with herself, feeling ashamed. She had tried to resist him, tried to reject him, and failed. Failed completely.

How could any woman say no to Nikos Theakis when he wanted her?

But somehow, cost what it would, she was going to have to find the strength to do just that.

A bleak look crossed her eyes.

She couldn’t cope. That was the only thing she knew about this whole situation.

But why? That was the question that wrung her mind. Why?

Why had Nikos Theakis seduced her?

It didn’t make sense. He could have his pick of women—women from his own world—so why bother with her, a woman he openly despised? Surely not just to prove to her that he could? He hadn’t liked her attempt to reject him—was that it? His male ego demanded her submission to him? Was that all it was? He wanted her to be as susceptible to him as every other woman must surely be?

Well, she thought heavily, he had all the proof he needed of that now! His ego could rest easy—she could no more say no to him than honey could refuse to melt over a hot spoon!

Restlessly, she got to her feet, starting to pace around the room. The blankness was leaving her now, and she wished it wasn’t. It was like anaesthesia wearing off …

With every portion of her body she could feel the physical evidence of what she had done—her muscles were stretched, her lips beestung, and between her thighs a low throbbing beat to her pulse. She headed for the bathroom. A shower would help, surely? And it would give her something to do—something other than letting impossible thoughts go round and round in her head, like rats in a trap.

When she emerged from the shower they were still going round, but they no longer mattered. How could it matter that she did not know why Nikos Theakis was so determined to prove her vulnerability to him? How could it matter that he only had to touch her for her to melt into his caress?

Because from now on it wasn’t going to happen. From now on, even if she had to lie and be evasive, say whatever it took, she would not spend one minute alone with Nikos. Not a single minute.

She dared not.

She knew it was cowardice, but so what? If that was what was necessary to keep her safe, but still with Ari, then so be it. It would be hard, but so what? If she could just hold to her line then she would be safe. There was nothing Nikos could do to her if she refused ever to be alone with him.

It was either that or leaving Sospiris. And she wouldn’t be chased off by him! She wouldn’t! This was her only opportunity to see her nephew, her sister’s son, and nothing would make her give that up!

Resolution filled her. She was here for Ari—that was all, and that was what she must remember. Nothing else.

She kept her mind focussed on that resolution as, deliberately trying to divert her mind from the tormenting channels it was running in so fixedly, she occupied herself in catching up with her correspondence—including the large number of postcards she had bought on Maxos. Writing them did her good—it reminded her of the world far beyond Sospiris, touching essential base with her real life.

She ought to go down for nursery tea, she knew, but she was too chary of Tina’s astute eyes. Surely it must be branded across her forehead just what she had gone and done? No, Ari had his playmate. He would not notice his aunt’s absence particularly, and she had already said she had a migraine. She had better make the most of it and keep to her room. Hiding.

She knew that was what she was doing but she needed to do it. Strengthen her resolve. Prepare her mental barriers.

And pray they would hold.

Nikos strolled along the corridor, his mood enjoyably anticipatory. It had been annoying to discover, on emerging from his office for his mother’s pre-prandial drinks, that Ann was apparently in her room with a migraine, and was not coming down to dinner. Damn—evidently Ann had indeed understood the need for discretion. If he’d only known sooner she was in her room, and not with Ari, he could easily have slipped along there at some point. He’d had to endure a dinner without her that had seemed to go on for ever until now, pleading some late night work he had to attend to, he could head straight for Ann’s room.

Outside her door, he knocked briefly, then walked in. Already he was eager for her—the beach chalet seemed far too long ago.

His eyes went to her immediately. She was in bed waiting for him, idly flicking through an English language magazine.

‘Kalispera, Ann,’ he said, as he walked into the room.

The magazine dropped as if it were a hot stone, and her head snapped up. Shock emptied her face. He strolled across the room and sat down on the bed.

‘I’m sorry you’ve had to wait for me—I only learnt at dinner that you were keeping to your room. I’d been working till then. My apologies.’ He leant forward, unable to resist the pleasure of making skin contact, drawing the back of his hand down her cheek.

She jerked, as if an electric shock had gone through her. Nikos smiled. That was good. Responsive.

Just the way he wanted her.

Then, as if his touch had thrown a switch, she spoke.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing here?’ Her voice was half a croak, half a whisper.

He gave a low laugh. ‘Don’t panic. I’ve been very discreet, the way I told you we would need to be.’

‘Discreet.’ She said the word as if it were an expletive.

He gave a shrug. ‘It’s inconvenient, yes, but there it is. My mother has certain codes of behaviour, and I would not wish to breach them openly.’

Even as he spoke he was conscious of a sense of discomfort. He did not relish this aspect of the business—but it was for his mother’s sake in the long run that he made Ann Turner his mistress and got her greedy claws out of the Theakis family by putting her beyond the pale of his mother’s misplaced forbearance of her.

‘Inconvenient—’ Her voice was hollow now, and she was staring at him with a peculiar expression in her face.

‘Ann,’ he said, making his tone temporising, ‘for the time being it’s unavoidable. But as soon as Tina’s wedding is over I’ll take you to Athens and—’

‘Take me to Athens?’ Her voice had changed to incomprehension.

It started to irritate Nikos. Why did she have to repeat everything he said to her?

‘Well, Athens first, and then wherever you’d like to go—though of course I’d have to fit any vacation around my obligations to business, alas. But all the same—’

He never finished his sentence.

Her face snapped shut. Like a door closing. Shutting him out. Very decidedly out.

‘I,’ she bit out, and her eyes were hard suddenly—like stones, ‘am not going anywhere with you. I am not—’ she made the emphasis as if it was a razor slicing down ‘—going to have some hole and corner affair with you! Get out—get out of my room, right now!’

His eyes flashed impatiently. ‘Ann—enough. We’ve been through this little farce once already today. I don’t appreciate games—especially when they’ve already been played out. It’s going to be difficult enough as it is, finding time together, without you doing your pointless denial routine. So—’

He didn’t get any further. She was scrambling out of bed, the other side from him. Immediately Nikos’s eyes went to her body, its slender form outlined beneath the diaphanous nightgown by the lamp from her bedside, to the tender mounds of her breasts, the slender wand of her waist and the graceful swell of her hips with the darkened vee between the perfect column of her thighs, all barely veiled by the translucent fabric. He felt himself respond—Theos, she was so beautiful! Desire surged through him. He wanted her—was hungry for her, could not wait for her.

‘Ann—’ Her name came, husked, raw. He started to move, levering off the bed, heading round its foot towards her, to reach her, touch her, to fold her to him, feel that beautiful, arousing body in his arms, that sweet, honeyed mouth opening to his …

And then, to his disbelief, even as his eyes devoured her she gave a little cry and hurled herself into the en suite bathroom. Nikos heard the frantic turning of the key in the lock, and then there was silence. For a long, incredulous moment he could only stare at the locked door.

Anger surged through him. Anger, disbelief—and intense, obliterating frustration.

Then, like a zombie, he walked out of the room.

Still not believing what had just happened.