The World's Most Notorious Greek (Mills & Boon Modern)

by Jackie Ashenden

  It made her want to refuse him out of sheer principle.

  But that her father would never understand. She hoped he’d understand her caveats about the ‘natural conception’ proposal, but, judging from the way he was looking at her, it was clear he didn’t understand that either.

  ‘What exactly is the nature of the problem, Willow?’ he asked coldly. ‘Is it the...physical interaction?’

  Heat burned in her cheeks. She didn’t want to be having this discussion with her father, but there was no help for it. He’d been in bed by the time she’d got home the night before, which had given her a brief reprieve, but this morning the first thing he’d wanted to know was how it had gone. And now, why she’d refused.

  ‘Dad, please,’ she said repressively. ‘Do I really need to go into detail?’

  But her father’s sharp, dark stare was unavoidable. ‘You’re assigning emotion to what is essentially a bodily function, Willow. There’s no need for embarrassment, just as there’s no need to make a fuss about it. It’s also no reason to refuse his very generous offer.’

  Her heart was beating very fast and her palms were sweaty, and she felt the almost impossible-to-ignore urge to move, to pace up and down, get this agitation out somehow. It reminded her of being a little girl again, full of that insatiable, hungry energy that made it very difficult for her to sit still. That little girl who felt everything so deeply—too deeply. The little girl whose demands used to annoy her father so much he would lock her out of the house for the entire day.

  No wonder he was looking at her with such disapproval.

  Willow’s jaw ached with the effort it took to force away her agitation, to stiffen herself into rigidity so she wouldn’t fidget.

  It was the Duke’s fault, of course. All of this was his fault. If he hadn’t been the man who’d kissed her beside the lake, the man who’d made her lose her temper and nearly slap him, and who’d kissed her a second time in front of the fireplace in Thornhaven...

  If he hadn’t been that man, then none of this would have been a problem.

  She would have accepted his proposal without if not a second thought, then at least a third thought.

  But he was that man and so she couldn’t risk it.

  It’s not him that’s the issue. It’s you.

  Her jaw got even tighter and she was conscious of her father’s gaze on her, cold and disapproving. How could she explain to him what the issue was? That she was afraid of being in the Duke’s presence because twice now he’d made her forget herself? That even the touch of his hand and a glance from his relentless blue gaze made her feel shaky with anger and desperate with a hunger she didn’t understand?

  Yes, it was true. It wasn’t the Duke himself she was afraid of but of his effect on her. Her reminded her of how she had used to be, wild and uncontained and at the mercy of her own emotions. Of how demanding and difficult she’d been, a howling whirlwind of rage that had culminated in the tantrum that had led to her father collapsing on the floor at her feet as the stroke had taken him.

  She didn’t want to be that girl again.

  ‘It’s not that simple, Dad,’ she said flatly, not wanting to go into it.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ her father disagreed. ‘Be logical for once in your life. The money will enable me to be more independent and you to do whatever you want to do. I don’t understand why you’re even hesitating.’

  No, he didn’t understand, as she’d suspected he wouldn’t. For her father logic was everything, while emotions were suspect and weren’t to be trusted. And he had reason, she knew that. He’d loved her mother passionately and had been devastated by her death, and the only way to ease the pain had been to cut it entirely out of his heart.

  So he had.

  But he was right, though. Refusing the money that would give them a much better quality of life simply because she was scared of how the Duke made her feel was utterly ridiculous. Her emotional responses were always suspect, so why was she even taking any notice of them?

  She let out a breath, rubbed her palms down her jeans, ignoring the old urge to run into the woods the way she had used to as a child.

  ‘He wants a son, Dad,’ she said. ‘You did hear that, didn’t you?’

  Clarence shrugged. ‘Then give him one. He’d look after it, you said? If so, then that shouldn’t be a problem. It’s nothing that people haven’t done before. And it’s probably better to do it sooner rather than later, when you have a career.’

  The offhand way he said it stabbed at something deep inside her. He hadn’t wanted her, and he’d told her that on more than one occasion. He’d only agreed to have her because her mother had wanted a baby and he’d loved her mother, not out of any desire for a child himself.

  And this would be the same, wouldn’t it? She hadn’t wanted children, not after her own experience of growing up, and certainly the emotional commitment it took to be a parent wasn’t something she could do.

  Then again, the Duke had said that the child would stay with him. She wouldn’t have to be involved in the process of bringing it up.

  History would repeat itself.

  A lump rose in her throat. She stared down at the threadbare carpet and forced it away. No, it wouldn’t be history repeating itself. It wouldn’t be having a child she didn’t want for someone else, condemning them to be brought up by a mother who hadn’t wanted them in the first place.

  The Duke had said he would keep the child and she would have access to it, if she wanted. He was rich. The child would live in luxury and have every opportunity. And he’d no doubt be a much more stable and steady parent than she would ever be. She was, after all, quite volatile and impatient, both of which weren’t great traits for a mother.

  But would he be able to give a child love?

  Good question. The Duke wasn’t exactly a family man by all accounts. And yet what was the alternative? If she didn’t marry the Duke, her father would be stuck here in this half-life, where he couldn’t do the things he wanted because the house couldn’t accommodate him. Because she was too physically weak to provide him with the support he needed. And there was the constant struggle for money and all the bills that needed paying that her wages from the cafe barely covered...

  If you don’t do this, he’ll blame you even more than he already does.

  The lump in her throat became larger. She’d ruined his life; how could she ruin it any more?

  ‘What if I...want to be in the child’s life?’ she asked, even though she hadn’t meant to.

  Her father lifted a shaking hand. Once those hands had been rock steady, able to cut and stitch even the smallest arteries. Now he could barely manage to lift his teacup. ‘You won’t,’ he said tersely. ‘Children are hard work.’ His hand must have been shaking harder than normal, because although he managed to get it to his mouth for a sip, when he put it back down it clipped the side of the saucer and fell over, spilling hot tea everywhere.

  Instantly Willow dashed to the kitchen, grabbing a cloth to mop it up, her father sitting there in stony silence.

  His was a cold anger, diamond hard and bright, full of sharp edges that sometimes felt like knives against her skin. She could feel those knives now, cutting into her, leaving her in no doubt as to who he blamed for the spill. Not his shaking hand, but her.

  She was the reason he’d lost his career and his health, his independence.

  Her and her anger.

  You can’t refuse the Duke. Not if it means leaving your father like this.

  No, it was true. They needed the money too urgently. Her father needed better care and, since she was the reason he was sitting in this chair, his career—his whole life—in ruins, then it made only logical sense for her to be the one to fix it.

  But she wasn’t going to give the Duke everything. She had to draw the line somewhere to protect herself too.

  She woul
d marry him, but she wouldn’t sleep with him. And she’d give him the child he wanted, but only via medical assistance. Her father would find her reasoning flawed, but then, her father wasn’t the one who had to do this. She did. And she could tell herself all she liked that the Duke didn’t affect her, that she was stronger than the chemistry that leapt between them, but twice was enough to tell her what lies those were.

  Better to be intelligent about it and nip temptation in the bud before it had a chance to grow.

  The Duke would no doubt argue, since he was clearly a man used to getting his own way, but he could find other women for his bed. He didn’t need her.

  Willow gave her father a last mop up with the cloth and then went back into the kitchen, dumping it in the sink before coming back out again.

  ‘You’re right,’ she said flatly. ‘I’ll do it. I’ll marry him.’

  Her father’s expression lost a little of that hard, cold edge. ‘I knew you’d come to your senses eventually.’ He nodded approvingly. ‘Good girl.’

  She ignored the little glow in her chest his good opinion always gave her. Cut it away.

  She was doing this for duty’s sake, nothing more.

  Achilles gave her two days. If she hadn’t come back to him after that, then he’d have to reassess his plan, but she’d come back to him, he was certain.

  The money would make an attractive package, and, though she’d balked at the idea of sleeping with him, he’d seen the hunger in her eyes. Had tasted it too in her kiss. She was passionate and she wanted him, and if she agreed to his plan he would make sure she wouldn’t regret it.

  He thought about staying in Yorkshire until she’d made a decision, but he hated being at Thornhaven and, since he never waited on someone else’s pleasure, he took a helicopter down to London for a few days, giving his staff strict instructions that, should Willow Hall make contact, he was to be told immediately.

  He was in the top-floor meeting room of his building in the City, in the middle of a discussion with some top execs from an Italian tech company, when Jane knocked on the door then put her head around it.

  Achilles didn’t like to be disturbed or interrupted while he was conducting business, but Jane never did so if it wasn’t urgent, so all he did was raise an enquiring eyebrow.

  ‘Sorry to interrupt,’ she said briskly, ‘but I thought you’d want to know that I have Willow Hall on the line.’

  A pulse of the most intense electricity went through him, deep satisfaction following behind it.

  Of course she would come back to him. There had never been any doubt.

  ‘Thank you, Jane,’ he said calmly, allowing none of that satisfaction to show on his face. Then he looked back at the execs sitting around the meeting-room table. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I’m afraid I have an urgent matter to attend to. I’m sure you won’t mind if we adjourn this till tomorrow.’

  Naturally, nobody minded. Or if they did, they didn’t dare say.

  He got Jane to put Willow through to his mobile phone immediately, then turned his chair to face the window, looking out over London shimmering in the summer heat. He waited a moment then said, ‘Miss Hall? This is a surprise.’

  There was a slight pause.

  ‘Is it?’ Her voice, sweet and husky, held a hint of asperity.

  ‘Of course.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘You were very clear that you wanted no part of my offer.’

  ‘Yes, about that...’ She sounded very cool and yet he could hear the uncertainty beneath it. ‘I’ve had a chance to think about what you offered me a couple of days ago, and on reflection... Well, I might have been a bit too hasty in refusing.’

  ‘I see.’ He let no hint of triumph colour his voice. ‘Have you had a change of heart, then?’

  ‘Possibly. If your offer is still open, of course.’

  He rested one foot on the opposite knee, gazing at the light glittering off the windows of the city below him. ‘I have been pursuing other options, as I mentioned in our interview,’ he lied smoothly, because it wouldn’t do to let her know he’d been doing nothing but waiting for her. ‘But I haven’t settled on anyone yet, if that’s what you’re asking.’

  ‘Oh.’ Another slight pause before she went on. ‘In that case you should know that I’ve changed my mind. I would like to accept your offer.’

  Satisfaction twisted hard in his chest, his smile reflected back from the windows in front of him sharp and white as a tiger’s.

  So, he would have it. His brother’s inheritance. His brother’s title and his house, and his wife. Except it wouldn’t be his brother’s any longer.

  It would be his.

  Idly, he wondered whether his father was spinning in his grave yet.

  ‘There is just one condition,’ Willow said.

  For a second, too lost in his own triumph, Achilles didn’t hear her.

  Then he did.

  He frowned. ‘A condition?’

  ‘Yes.’ Now she was very cool and collected, no trace of uncertainty. ‘It’s just a small thing.’

  Achilles was not in the habit of granting conditions. However, he wasn’t an unreasonable man and he knew what he was asking from her was a lot.

  ‘And what thing would that be?’ he asked, keeping the question casual.

  ‘That the marriage will be in name only.’ Her voice was firm, unwavering. ‘And that the child should be conceived with medical assistance.’

  Achilles went very still. ‘That was not the offer I made.’

  ‘I realise that. However, you did say it was a business arrangement. In which case you should consider this a counter-offer.’

  He stared at his own reflection in the windows opposite him, the tiger’s smile vanishing, the intensity of his disappointment surprising him.

  Did you really expect her to agree to everything?

  Yes. Yes, he had. She was passionate and she wanted him, that had been obvious to him the moment he’d first spotted her watching him swimming in the lake.

  He didn’t think he’d been wrong. He knew when a woman desired him. She’d certainly kissed him as if she was dying for him, and he was certain it hadn’t been an act. So what was the problem?

  Good question. One you could ask yourself.

  Denial had never bothered him before, not that it happened very often, but still. So her refusal shouldn’t be an issue. And yet it was. And he had a sneaking suspicion he knew why. That it was about how she’d made him feel out there beside the lake and in the sitting room of Thornhaven, the fire of her passion lighting him up, chasing away the ghosts of his past. Making him feel alive.

  And which in turn made him uneasy. He didn’t like acceding her any power and yet there was no denying that she had some. Otherwise why would he be feeling so annoyed about it?

  ‘Can I ask why?’ He made sure he sounded as calm and as cool as she did. That he was not disappointed in any way. ‘You seemed to enjoy the kisses we shared. Or did I overstep?’

  ‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘You didn’t overstep. And yes, I...enjoyed them. But you’re a stranger to me. And I’m afraid I don’t know you well enough to sleep with you.’

  ‘You don’t have to know anyone well in order to sleep with them, Diana,’ he said before he could stop himself. ‘In fact, sometimes it’s better if you don’t.’

  ‘That might be the way you do things, but it’s not the way I do them. I don’t sleep with people I don’t know.’

  Annoyance sank claws into him, but he fought it down, because that wasn’t going to help. No, it wasn’t about her or what she gave him, it was about what she represented.

  If he didn’t claim her as his wife in the most basic way, then she could hardly be his, could she? Then again, in order for her to be his, he only needed to have one night with her. They didn’t have to keep sleeping together.

  He stayed silent
a moment, turning the thought over in his head.

  She was clearly a woman who knew her own mind and would not be pushed. In which case he wouldn’t push.

  ‘Very well,’ he said coolly. ‘So, how did you imagine this business arrangement would progress?’

  ‘Obviously to where we’d lead separate lives. I’ll live at the cottage and you can live...wherever you like.’ She paused briefly. ‘I won’t expect you to be faithful. As long as you’re discreet, I’m sure it won’t be a problem for you to take lovers.’

  Part of him was outraged that she’d somehow managed to take control and start offering conditions as if the whole thing had been her idea, while another part of him was amused and not a little admiring of her audacity, not to mention her intelligence.

  ‘Discreet?’ he couldn’t help saying. ‘You did do your research about me, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I’m aware of your reputation. But I’m sure that will change once you have a family to consider.’

  He nearly laughed at her cool certainty that he’d do exactly what she asked, despite the fact that it was something he’d already decided to do himself.

  ‘Of course,’ he murmured. ‘And I’m sure you will do the same when it comes to lovers.’

  ‘I will not be having lovers,’ she said crisply. ‘I’ll be too busy attending university. But, as I said, if you want them then I won’t mind.’

  University, hmm? Interesting.

  ‘That’s very gracious of you,’ he drawled. ‘But somehow I fail to see how a woman as passionate as yourself can go years without having sex at least once. Or are you planning on taking your vows?’

  ‘That’s really none of your business. But I’ve managed very well so far and I don’t see that changing any time soon.’

  Surprise rippled through him, though, on reflection, it shouldn’t. ‘You’re a virgin?’

  ‘Well... I... I mean... I don’t think...’ She stopped, sounding flustered. ‘So? What if I am? It doesn’t matter anyway.’

  It shouldn’t matter. He preferred not to deal with virgins. He preferred women who knew what they were doing.