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 9

SHE WENT ON hating him for the rest of the day, but she would not spoil it for Ari. Having built his huge and complex castle—a task which Ann had discovered she enjoyed hugely, despite the knowledge that Nikos was only a few metres away, and that Ari regularly invited him to comment approvingly on progress so far—Ari suddenly put down his spade and announced that he was hungry.

It was a general signal for lunch.

They wandered onto the stone terrace of a tiny beach hut which Ann had not even noticed on their arrival. It was set back on the shady side of the beach, above the pebbles, and was pleasantly cool now that the sun was high. Given the Theakis wealth, Ann half expected servants to jump out of nowhere and lay on a four-course luncheon for their lord and master, but their meal in fact came out of a cold bag Nikos had brought with him. It was very simple. A round, flattish loaf of fresh-baked Greek bread, sweet sun-ripe tomatoes, salty, oil-drenched feta cheese, some dry cured ham and a bottle of chilled white wine, with fruit to follow. Ari had a can of cola.

‘It’s a treat,’ he announced smugly to Ann. ‘Tina says it rots my teeth so I only have it for treats. Will you be looking after me when Tina marries Dr Sam, Auntie Annie?’

The question slipped out so suddenly that Ann had no time to think up a good answer. Ari’s uncle supplied one instead.

‘Your aunt isn’t used to children, Ari,’ he said. ‘She wouldn’t know how to look after you.’

For a second Ann’s expression flickered. She was aware that Nikos was looking at her, a cynical glint in his eye. She ignored it.

‘Your uncle is right, Ari,’ she said gently. ‘I’m sure Ya-ya will find another lovely nanny to look after you. And you’ll see Tina still, won’t you? She’ll only be living on Maxos, and you can visit her in the motor boat.’

‘It won’t be the same.’ His little lip quivered.

‘Everything changes, Ari,’ said his uncle. ‘Some are sad changes, some are happy ones.’ There was a strained note in his voice just for a moment.

The boy looked across at Ann. ‘You’re a happy change, coming to see me,’ he said. ‘Isn’t she, Uncle Nikki?’

Get out of that one, thought Ann silently.

‘It has its compensations,’ he replied, and his glance flickered over her deliberately. Abruptly, Ann reached for another tomato and bit into it. Her bite was too vicious, and tomato juice and seeds spurted all over her T-shirt.

‘Shame,’ murmured Nikos Theakis insincerely. ‘Now you’ll have to take it off after all.’

In the end, she did. The afternoon simply got too hot, and before long Ari was clamouring to go into the sea again. Ann peeled off to her swimming suit, taking advantage of the fact that Nikos was now laying out his fabulous gold-hued body face down on a brilliant white towel for the sun to worship it.

‘If you go in the water,’ he advised lazily, not bothering to lift his head from the folded towel beneath it, ‘don’t go out of your depth. No further than that crooked rock to the left. Ari knows which one.’

‘Or the sharks will get you,’ contributed his nephew knowledgeably, if inaccurately, clearly having been told this to keep him close to shore. ‘They lie in wait in deep water.’

Hurriedly she raced Ari down to the sea, welcoming the chill embrace of the water. Playing with Ari took her mind off Nikos, and she entered into his games with enthusiasm, whilst taking care to stay, as instructed, in her depth. Eventually Ari tired, and as they waded out of the sea Ann immediately became aware that she was under professional surveillance.

Nikos Theakis must have seen a multitude of female bodies, but he obviously liked to study each one as a connoisseur. Now he was studying hers, his arms folded behind his neck, using the casual strength of his own perfectly toned, sun-kissed abdominal muscles to hold his head sufficiently off the ground to survey her properly.

Ann attempted to adopt an air of indifference to his scrutiny, and failed. But she did manage to avoid looking at Nikos, instead taking Ari’s armbands off and mopping him dry, letting him chatter away in Greek to his uncle before heading back to his sandcastle. Patting herself dry with Ari’s towel, Ann knelt down, rummaging in her bag for a comb. Finding it, she straightened, squeezed out the worst of the moisture, and started to comb out her dripping wet hair.

Nikos sat up with an effortless jack-knife of his stomach muscles, hooking his hands loosely around wide splayed knees and looking at her with narrowed eyes, while she tried to look completely indifferent to his regard—and to him. But it was impossible. He’s even got beautiful feet, Ann thought absently, trying not to look. Narrow, with sculpted arches. She looked away, but he had seen her. He limbered up, and crossed to where she was kneeling. Before she knew what he was doing he’d hunkered down, removed the large-toothed comb from her hand and taken over her task.

‘Hold still,’ he commanded, as she instinctively tried to get away. A large hand closed over her upper arm. She flinched.

With a frown, he scooped away the wet tangle of hair covering it, revealing the ugly bruise that had formed.

‘What the hell?’

‘Blame the driver,’ she said briefly. ‘I got a walloping against the door frame of the Jeep.’

He muttered something in Greek that was probably impolite. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said tersely. ‘I didn’t realise.’

She shrugged. ‘I’ll live,’ she answered. ‘Give me my comb back.’

He ignored her. Instead, his fingers gently skimmed the smooth skin of her shoulder.

‘Your skin is like silk.’ His voice was low, intimate. His touch made her shiver. But she didn’t feel cold. Heat started to coil in every tensing muscle in her body. For a long moment their eyes met and held—night-dark speculative brown to startled, questioning blue-grey—then, as if in slow motion, Nikos lowered his mouth.

His kiss, on the cusp of her shoulder, was as soft as velvet. Ann’s heart stopped beating. Somewhere, in some small, shrinking space, she knew she should jerk away, shout, scream—anything at all to stop what Nikos was so outrageously, unthinkably doing.

But it was impossible. Simply impossible. All she could do, as the world turned inside out, was to stay kneeling, frozen, weak in every limb, feeling the softness of his mouth on her flesh. She felt his lips part, so the soft, liquid warmth of the inside of his mouth was against her tender skin, moving over it, back and forth, moistening and caressing it. Slow bliss filled her. Then gently, very gently, he lifted his head and drew her around so that she was positioned in the vee of his open thighs as he knelt behind her, caging her. With long, even strokes he started to comb out her hair.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t move to save her life. Every nerve in her body quivered with awareness. Around her the air hung like silk, shimmering in the heat. As he worked down from her scalp to the still dripping ends of her waist-length hair, gently teasing out every last tangle, she felt a drowsy languor steal over her as the sun beat down. With half closed eyes she could still see little Ari quit his sandcastle to go clambering over the rocks, examining the sea life. Behind her, another Theakis male was seducing her.

She had no doubt that that was what he was doing. Long after the last tangle was gone he went on combing down the length of her hair—soothingly, rhythmically, murmuring soft words in his own native language. It might have been a shopping list for all she knew. She knew it wasn’t. He was telling her how much he wanted her, how much his body yearned for hers. How even now—had it not been for the child playing there on the rocks, for the interfering presence of the silky fabric of their bathing clothes—he would have lifted her back on to the hard muscle of his splayed thighs, thigh against thigh, cradling his hips against hers so that she could feel the hardening of his body against her contours.

He would take her soft breasts in the palms of his hands and caress them until her nipples hardened like peaks, and then he would roll them in his long fingers until she cried out, tiny moans in her throat that told him she was ready. Then his hand would splay down over the soft swell of her belly to ease her firm thighs apart, exposing the very heart of her, and he would let his clever, skilful fingers explore her secret folds until they found the pathway to delight. They would rouse her to such a point of glistening ecstasy that her back would arch away from him, her head would drop back, exposing the long line of her tender throat, which he would kiss and bite with soft, devouring kisses while her cry of ecstasy reverberated against his mouth as he possessed her with his body …

Ann felt the heat pool between her thighs and begin to quicken. Her breasts tautened, nipples peaking beneath the damp swimsuit. Her head started to drop as the murmuring voice told her of all the delights he would give her, and her scalp tingled at the touch of the comb he wielded so soothingly. So arousingly.

Her body began to melt against his waiting hardness.

In slow motion she saw the little figure at the edge of her vision reach the top of the highest rock and wave triumphantly. Then, as her eyes widened in shock, she saw him wobble, arms flailing wildly, and start to tumble.

Which of them moved faster she didn’t know. Ann only knew that she had hurled herself forward like a bullet from a gun, scrambling desperately over the rocks to try and break Ari’s fall. She caught at him, gasping out words.

‘I’ve got you. I’ve got you. You’re safe.’

Then Ari was slithering down through her weakened arms, before being halted again by a pair of much stronger, harder arms, scooping him out of Ann’s, holding his kicking, frightened little body against a broad, strong chest. Rapid Greek urgently reassured the child, soothing him.

Carefully, Nikos lowered the crying child down to a towel. Swiftly the pair of them examined him for damage, but apart from a nasty scrape down one calf Ari seemed nothing more than shocked. And being fussed over, plus a packet of crisps, soon put his woes behind him.

‘Tina will put a plaster on it,’ he informed his aunt and uncle as he inspected his scrape again, crunching crisps as he spoke.

‘It won’t need one, poppet,’ Ann said reassuringly. ‘It isn’t bleeding.’

‘It bleeds if I squeeze it,’ Ari corrected her, and proceeded to demonstrate the truth of this with ghoulish pleasure.

Ann looked away, meeting Nikos’ eye. For a moment a gleam of mutual humour passed between them, then he looked back at his nephew.

‘Repellent boy,’ he said.

Ari looked pleased.

The journey back to the villa was conducted at a far more sedate pace than their outward journey. Nikos was deaf to Ari’s pleas to speed up, and took the rough road slowly this time.

‘Thank you,’ said Ann stiffly, conscious that Nikos had driven slowly for her.

She was still shaken. Not because of Ari’s fall—though that had been a horribly sobering moment. Because of what had preceded it. How the hell had it happened? In the space of a handful of seconds she’d gone from being in control of herself to being …

Helpless. Completely helpless to do anything at all except let the extraordinary velvet seduction of the man take her over completely. Fatally. Lethally.

The moment the Jeep was back at the villa she was out of it, extracting Ari as fast as she could. To her relief, Nikos kept the engine running, and the moment Ari was down drove straight off round to the villa’s garages. Ari, seizing Ann’s hand, headed indoors, where he was intercepted by Maria, the nursery maid, who exclaimed dutifully at Ari’s grievous wound, then whisked him off to get cleaned up. Gratefully, Ann escaped to her room. Under a punishingly hot shower she mercilessly berated herself. How could she have let Nikos Theakis do that to her? Touch her, caress her, kiss her …

And why had he done it? But she knew, with a hollowing damning of herself. It had been a power play, pure and simple. He’d done it deliberately, calculatingly, just to show her that he could. To show that she would succumb because he could make it impossible for her not to! That she was powerless against him …

I can’t let him have that kind of power! I can’t!

No—she had to fight it. And at least now, she told herself urgently, in her head, she was now prepared for his new battle against her. He’d shown his hand, made his move, and that meant he could no longer launch a surprise attack on her the way he’d done on the beach. She was forewarned now, and that meant forearmed. All she had to do was be on her absolute guard against him.

Whatever it took.

Because the alternative was—unthinkable.

Nikos stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror of his self-contained apartment in the villa, his razor stilled in one hand.

He was playing with fire.

His mouth tightened. That was the only word for it. He hadn’t thought it would be. Had thought it would simply be a matter of killing two birds with one very satisfying stone—gratifying the increasingly persistent desire to enjoy a woman he wanted whilst simultaneously ensuring that Ann Turner was led very nicely up the garden path to a position where she could be ejected, once and for all, from his family.

But that incident on the beach had proved otherwise. Had proved that he was, indeed, playing with fire in what he was doing.

I was out of control so much I didn’t even notice when Ari was in danger.

The words formed in his head, sobering and grim. A warning, clear as a bell. And one he would be insane not to heed.

Whatever Ann Turner had, he had to ensure that the only person who got burnt was her. Not him.

With controlled, precise strokes, he started to shave.

Outside the door to the salon, Ann paused. She could feel her chest was tight, her nerves taut. She wanted to bolt back to her room, but it was impossible. She had to get through this evening—the rest of her time on Sospiris. Ignoring completely the man who’d turned her into a quivering, sensuous, conscienceless fool.

Gritting her teeth, she walked in.

Her eyes went to him immediately, sucked to him. Her stomach hollowed, taking in, in a devastating instant, the way he stood there, casually dressed in dark blue trousers, open necked shirt, freshly shaved, lifting his martini glass to his mouth, his unreadable eyes resting on her. For a second so brief it hardly existed she felt his gaze make contact. Then it was gone. His attention was back on Tina, who was talking about archaeology.

Smiling awkwardly, Ann went across to Mrs Theakis and Cousin Eupheme.

How she got through dinner she wasn’t sure, but she managed it somehow. Inevitably the conversation included a discussion of the day’s expedition, and Ann had to fight the colour seeking to mount in her cheeks. Her comments were disjointed, and in the end she pleaded a headache from too much sun, and fled back to her room before coffee was served. She felt Nikos Theakis’s dark gaze on her as she left the dining room.

For the next two days Ann stuck to Tina and Ari like glue. It was easy enough. The following day Ari had a playdate on Maxos, with the young son of wealthy friends of the Theakises, and after handing him over to the family’s nanny at their sumptuous holiday villa, Tina took Ann off to spend the afternoon at the dig her fiancé was directing, before heading back to collect Ari again. That evening she was relieved to discover that Nikos was out.

‘He is dining with the family that little Ari spent the day with,’ said Mrs Theakis, when Ann joined her. ‘One of their house guests has a tendre for him,’ she said dryly. She looked directly at Ann. ‘My son is very … popular with our sex, my dear. He has much of what they want. Most noticeably, considerable wealth.’ Was there the slightest snap in her voice as she spoke? Ann wondered. Then another thought crossed her mind—a horrible one.

Is she warning me off? She felt cold at the thought.

‘And so handsome, too!’ This from Cousin Eupheme, who had, Ann had already observed, a visible soft spot for Nikos Theakis.

‘Yes,’ allowed Mrs Theakis. ‘It is a dangerous combination. For him, that is. A man who is both rich and handsome.’ Again she looked directly at Ann, and now Ann knew that indeed she was being specifically warned. ‘Such a man can be tempted not to treat women with the respect they should have from him.’

Ann stared. This was not what she had thought Mrs Theakis had been going to say.

Mrs Theakis continued, in the same gentle, contemplative voice she always used. ‘I would hesitate to call my own son spoilt, and yet—Ah, Yannis—epharisto!’ This last to the manservant, who had approached with the customary tray of pre-dinner drinks.

To Ann’s relief, the subject of the conversation turned, with Mrs Theakis asking Ann what she had made of both Tina’s fiancé’s dig and her fiancé himself. Tina was still with Sam, Ann having brought Ari back to Sospiris on her own. Ari had been full of his enjoyable adventures on his playdate—except for one aspect.

‘She kept kissing me, and I did not like it!’ he’d complained.

‘Who was that?’ Ann had asked, amused.

‘A grown-up lady. She asked me about Uncle Nikki. I said he was busy working. That is what he tells Yannis to tell ladies when they phone him. I told her that too. She did not like it and went away. I was glad. I didn’t like her kissing me.’ He looked at Ann. ‘Uncle Nikki does not kiss. He hugs. And he carries me on his shoulders. If,’ he’d added, punctiliously, ‘I do not pull his hair.’

Now, over dinner, Ann wondered what Ari’s admirer was like. She would be elegant and well bred—one of his own circle. As socially acceptable as Carla, Ann thought darkly, had not been suitable to marry into the wealthy Theakis family.

There was no sign of Nikos the following day, or the one thereafter, and Ann assumed that he was still on Maxos. But wherever he was—providing it was not on Sospiris—she couldn’t care less. It was taking all her strength, even with him not around, to force herself not to think about what had happened on the beach. But it was essential to banish the memory—vital not to think about Nikos Theakis. Not to conjure his image in her mind. Not to let him into her consciousness. To think of something else—anything else—that would take her mind into safer pathways again.

She was glad when Tina returned mid-morning, bearing with her an invitation to join her and her fiancé for the birthday celebrations of one of Sam’s colleagues the following night.

‘You will come, won’t you?’ Tina pressed. ‘Oh, it won’t be anything grand like here, of course, but it will be good fun, I promise!’

Mrs Theakis added her own urging. ‘My dear—young people, and a lovely, lively evening for you!’ She smiled her warm, kind smile at Ann.

So, in the early evening of the next day, she set off with Tina to cross the strait to Maxos in the Theakis launch. Ari had been consigned to Maria’s care, and mollified with the reminder that the following day his playdate friend was coming over to Sospiris on a return invitation. Tina was looking very pretty, with her curly brown hair, and was wearing a flirty red sundress jazzed up with some locally crafted jewellery. Ann was a fair-haired foil, with an ivory-white lacy cross-over top and a floaty turquoise skirt which she’d bought the day they’d come over to Maxos between with Ari.

Sam met them at the harbour, his eyes dwelling with open appreciation on his fiancée and with practised masculine appreciation on Ann’s pale beauty. Gallantly, he offered an arm to each, and they started to stroll towards the quayside lined with tavernas. The Theakis launch had dropped them at the marina end of the harbour, which was visibly upmarket—as were the gleaming yachts at moorage and the smart bars along this section of the quayside. At that hour of the evening, with the dusk gathering in the sky and the last pale bars of daylight dying in the west, both Greeks and such tourists as there were at that season were making their traditional volta—the slow procession of both seeing and being seen.

Sam and Tina paused to greet acquaintances as they passed, and halfway along stopped more decisively when they were hailed by a party sitting outside a particularly smart cocktail bar.

Nikos Theakis had hailed them—sitting back, looking relaxed, his shirt open at the collar, a sweater loosely draped over broad shoulders, long legs extended, glass in his hand. A very elegant, sultry-looking brunette was sitting close enough beside him on the white cushioned padded cane seat to signal that her physical proximity to him was usually a lot closer.

‘Tina,’ said Nikos with smiling extravagance, his white teeth gleaming wolfishly, ‘you’re looking stunning tonight. Sam’s a lucky man.’ His dark eyes paid tribute to her, before moving on to exchange pleasantries with her fiancé. Then, without warning, his gaze flicked to Ann.

She’d been standing stiffly, trying to act normally, trying not to be instantly, horribly, mega-aware of Nikos Theakis’s impact. She had been quite unprepared for this, and was desperately scrabbling for her guard.

Too late. Those dark long-lashed eyes rested on her, and sucked hers into his gaze.

For a blinding moment it felt intimate—shockingly, searingly intimate. As if there was no one else there at all. As if his eyes were branding her.

Then, abruptly, his head turned towards the woman at his side, whose hand, Ann slowly registered, was now curved possessively around his forearm.

‘Nikos, darling,’ she announced in overloud English, ‘we mustn’t keep your nephew’s nanny and her friends from their evening out—you’ll lose your reputation for being such a generous employer to your household staff!’

At her side, Ann could feel Sam tense with anger at this dismissive put-down of his fiancée.

‘True,’ Sam said with deceptive ease. ‘But one must, of course, also be careful not to gain reputations, either—such as one for hunting rich husbands, Kyria Constantis.’

He bestowed a sardonic smile on the woman, whose expression darkened furiously, and strode off, taking his fiancée and Ann with him. Only Ann, it seemed, registered the low chuckle that emanated from Nikos Theakis, and the hiss of outrage from his companion at the scarcely veiled insult.

‘Isn’t Elena Constantis a complete cow?’ Tina quizzed Ann, visibly pleased that her fiancé had supported her so ruthlessly.

‘Nikos doesn’t seem to think so,’ retorted Ann. She was still trying to recover from that scorching eye contact—which had seared so effortlessly through the guard she’d barely had time to scrabble for—and she was also trying to ignore the fact that she had seen Nikos Theakis cosying up to another woman.

Too late she caught the fatal admission she’d just made. Using the word ‘another’…. as if she herself had anything to do with the man in that way.

Tina was speaking again, and Ann latched on to the diversion. Unfortunately, she was still on the same subject.

‘Oh, Nikos won’t marry Elena Constantis—however much she wants him to. Apart from anything else he’d never marry someone Ari didn’t approve of, and Ari’s made it clear he doesn’t like Elena Constantis. He says she keeps trying to kiss him.’

Ann felt her spirits lift illogically, though she knew there was absolutely no reason for it. She made herself remember that as they reached the taverna where Sam’s colleagues were gathering. She was glad of the party. The mix of professional archaeologists and students was a lively, polyglot gathering, and the taverna in the old port was a world away from the swish marina. Not a place for a Theakis, thought Ann, and found the thought reassuring.

As the evening wore on, and the local wine went round, she felt herself relaxing. It was good to get away from the constant threat of encountering Nikos, from keeping her guard high, as she must around him.

The convivial meal culminated in a large birthday cake, with ouzo, brandy and coffee doing the rounds, followed by some very inexpert and woozy dancing to bouzoukis. It was all very good humoured, but finally the taverna owner could bear it no longer. With a clap of his hands he banished them all back to their table, and summoned the males of his establishment, who obligingly formed the appropriate line in front of their enthusiastic audience.

A voice in Greek from the doorway halted them. Ann looked round. Half shadowed against the night, a tall figure peeled itself away from the entrance.

The taverna owner hurried forward, exclaiming volubly in his own language, and held out his arms welcomingly.

Nikos Theakis strolled in.