by Lynne Graham
'How could you doubt it?' He bent down and let his warm tongue delve into the moist centre of her mouth and caress the soft underside of her lips. Way down low in her throat a moan escaped. She stretched up on her tiptoes and kissed him back with fervent, eager need. He reached down and lifted her up into his arms and then he took the stairs two at a time.
She let her hands sink into the springy depths of his hair. Joy was dancing through her in a heady tide of celebration. He laid her down on the bed. Her hunger for his touch felt almost unbearable. He stood over her, discarding his jacket and tie, ripping open his shirt while he kicked off his shoes. His impatience thrilled her. She lay there, anticipation a wicked spiral twisting down deep inside her.
'I'm so hot for you,' Andreas growled like a hungry tiger as he came down to her. She opened her arms wide. He tugged away the towel and she gasped and tried to cover herself again, suddenly remembering that she had rounded up in places she had had no need to fill out and stricken by the fear that he would be repulsed.
'I've died and gone to heaven…' Andreas groaned, settling that concern instantly with his bold masculine appreciation of the lush swell of her breasts.
He uncrossed her arms to bare her for his scrutiny. 'Close your eyes.' she pleaded. 'I've expanded.' 'Gloriously,' Andreas declared raggedly, scorching golden eyes glittering with admiration. 'You look like a pagan goddess… very, very sexy.'
Her spine arched a little. He used his thumbs on tender crests of her breasts and followed with the sweet, erotic torment of his expert mouth. She whimpered, her hips shifting on the mattress.
'I didn't think to ask…' Andreas stared down at her, taut with sudden anxiety. 'Can I? Is it safe to make love?'
'It's OK…it's no problem… oh, I want you so much,' she gasped.
He traced the swollen, sensitive heart of her femininity and she jerked and writhed, losing control as the exquisite sensations came quicker and faster. The most devastating need had taken her over. She was liquid as honey heated to boiling point. He was a fantastic lover and he had primed every sensitised inch of her to the peak of sensual torment. Suddenly he was kissing her again in a deep, wild, drugging melding of their mouths that excited her beyond bearing.
'Please… please…' she cried.
He told her in Greek how much he needed her, his hands spread to cup her face. Lean, strong face stamped with desire and an intensity that was new to her, he tipped her back. 'I'll be very gentle.'
Slow and sure, he thrust into her hot, damp core, taking her by aching degrees. He stretched her and possessed her with long, hard strokes that drove her out of her mind with incredible pleasure. The tight sensation welling at the heart of her sent her excitement racing higher and higher. The surge of ecstasy she experienced plunged her into sobbing abandonment. It took a long time for the pulsing waves of delight to drain from her languorous body. Full of joy at the wonder of being with him again, she felt her eyes flood with tears and she kept her head buried in his shoulder. But she succumbed to the temptation of pressing tiny little kisses against his damp, bronzed skin, tickling him and making him laugh.
Grinning, Andreas closed both arms round her and breathed in the fresh herbal scent of her hair, revelling in the return of the harmony and satisfaction that had eluded him for months. He smoothed possessive hands over the smooth, soft curves of her highly feminine derriere. He wondered if it would seem uncool and if she would be offended if he examined the tantalising swell of her formerly flat stomach. He decided not to chance it and dropped a kiss down on the crown of her head. The unwelcome recollection of Ben Campbell's jacket slunk into his mind like a depth charge from the deep.
Had she slept with Campbell in the same bed?
What do you think, Andreas? A snide, cynical inner voice mocked. Don't the guy's relatives part-own the property? His sleek muscles drew taut. Suddenly a tidal wave of doubts and unease was assailing him. How could he ever trust her again? All men were vulnerable to false paternity claims. Even if DNA testing were to prove the child was not his, wouldn't she still be able to plead that she had made a genuine error? After all, how could she know for sure that it was his baby? At best she was probably hoping like mad that it was his. The last thing she was likely to do was admit anything that might reawaken his worst suspicions.
In the course of seconds his mood had dive-bombed from the heights to subterranean-cellar level. He had dragged her off to bed as if the past few months could be wiped out. But the bitter memory of betrayal remained. Could he really be contemplating the concept of forgiving her? How could he ever forgive her for what she had done? He knew there were sad guys who did do stuff like that. Sad, weak men who let their even sadder dependency on a lying, deceitful woman overpower their brains and their pride. But he wasn't one of those guys. His only weakness around her was lust, Andreas reasoned. That was sex, though that was allowable. He would sleep with her as and when he liked. That was harmless. But forgiveness was impossible.
'If you pack now, I'll take you back to London with me,' Andreas murmured flatly, hauling his long, powerful frame up against the pillows while at the same time shifting her off him onto the mattress. 'The apartment already has a buyer. I'll have to find you somewhere else to live.'
His cool detachment was as shocking to Hope as a bucket of icy water drenching her overheated skin. He had cut short the affectionate aftermath of their intimacy, Hope registered with a stark sense of panic and loss. Had she really believed that a nightmare could be eradicated and their former relationship reinstated? Why on earth had she fallen back into bed with him again? After all, she was now painfully aware of the deficiencies of what she had once mistakenly seen as a wonderfully happy relationship. Would she really sink so low as to accept being his mistress?
'I'm not that fussed about diamonds,' Hope pronounced grittily.
Halfway out of bed, for he was determined to remove Hope from her present accommodation as fast as he possibly could, Andreas stilled with a frown. 'Say that again?'
Hope shot him a pained glance. 'A mistress is supposed to have diamonds but I don't want any. I never wanted any.'
Andreas deemed silence the best response to those incomprehensible statements. Nor did he see it as the best moment in which to confess that some of the charms on her bracelet were ornamented with diamonds of the very highest quality.
'You never ate a grain of food in that apartment that I did not pay for… does that make you a kept man?' Hope enquired curtly.
Stark naked, Andreas swung back at that facetious question. 'What's that supposed to mean?'
'I bought all the food. My small contribution to our shared life,' Hope informed him, her turquoise eyes over-bright. 'But you thought you had bought me.' 'No, I never thought that.' Andreas frowned. 'Did you buy the food? I had no idea.'
'I wish I'd poisoned you when I got the chance!' Hope hissed and, grabbing up her nightdress, she pulled it over her head, leapt off the bed and vanished into the en suite.
Andreas listened to the bolt shooting home on the other side of the door and swore under his breath while looking heavenward in vague hope of divine intervention. She had seemed perfectly happy, but he was learning that he could no longer depend on that superficial calm. She could fly from apparent tranquillity to screeching fury with him now in the space of seconds. Was that his fault? Campbell's fault? Was she only back with him because Campbell had rejected her? He could not afford to take anything for granted this time around, he reminded himself harshly.
Hope could not bear to meet her own anguished eyes in the vanity mirror. She had acted like a slut and his coolness afterwards had ensured that she felt like one too. She really hated herself. As long as she behaved like that she would never win his respect. Once again she had been too easy. How could Andreas have sunk so low as to take advantage of her again? And how could she have allowed that to happen?
She had to forget that she loved Andreas. Her baby should be her only priority now. She should never, ever have got
Hope emerged from the en suite.
Fully dressed, only his tousled black hair revealing that he had not spent the last hour in the average business meeting, Andreas surveyed her. 'All I want to do is take you out of here and back to London where you belong.'
'But I don't belong there. I always preferred the country and that's where I'd like to live if I get the chance. Look… ' Hope shifted an awkward hand, inhibited by the need to conceal her true emotions from him with a show of indifference. 'We slept together and we shouldn't have. I regret it very much.'
'You didn't regret it while you were doing it pedhimou,' Andreas spelt out with dangerous bite. 'So, what's changed?'
'I'm trying to be sensible for the baby's benefit. I don't want to be your mistress and I don't think you're facing how complicated things could get with a child in the midst of it all.'
Andreas pinned smouldering golden eyes of censure on her and proved that he was not listening. 'This is about Campbell, isn't it?'
Hope winced, for with that one question he fulfilled her every fear. 'It's not even me you want.'
'What on earth is that supposed to mean?'
'I think you just want to take me away from Ben to prove that you can do it. And, yes, you can do it. I'm no good at saying no to you… but that doesn't mean I don't know how dangerous you are to my peace of mind,' she confessed gruffly.
Andreas dealt her a look of stark and savage impatience. 'This is all nonsense. You fell into my arms you came back to me.'
'No I had sex with you,' Hope rephrased in a mortified undertone, her face reddening as she pushed out that contradiction.
Andreas studied her in angry disbelief. 'Don't be coarse-'
'You had sex with me. Are you saying that meant anything special to you?' Hope was striving not to look hopeful.
Put on the spot, Andreas refused to yield. His stubborn mouth firmed. 'I'm not saying anything right now. It's too soon.'
Unbearable sadness welled up inside Hope. 'We don't have any kind of a future.'
'If that baby is mine, you'll have a role to play in life for years to come,' Andreas pointed out impressively.
'A backstage role that you define, a convenient mistress. I don't want my baby to grow up and despise me. If there's a chance that I could be the main event in some guy's life, I want to be free to take that chance,' Hope answered shakily. 'And if I end up alone, so be it. I'll take that risk.'
That was the definitive moment that Andreas appreciated that she had raised the stakes, changed the game, if game it was, and altered the rules without telling him. Either he offered her more or he walked away. He had never surrendered to blackmail in his life. Outrage slivered through him as he angled a brooding glance at the tumbled bed. Just two years ago Hope had been a clueless virgin. But this evening she had had rampant sex with him and then announced that she intended to keep her options open in case some other man presented her with a better deal. For some other man, read Ben Campbell, Andreas reflected in volcanic fury.
'Please say you understand,' Hope muttered tautly. 'I want to try to be the best mother I can be.'
'Naturally. If your child is mine, I'm willing to acknowledge the blood tie and accept a parental role.' Andreas refused to think about how the advent of an illegitimate Nicolaidis heir or heiress would strike the more elderly of his conservative Greek family. 'I will also cover all your expenses and settle money on both of you so that your future is secure. Those arrangements would be separate from any more intimate bonds we shared.'
Hope was very pale and her strained eyes lowered from his to hide her pain. 'I'm not talking about money, Andreas.'
'I didn't suppose you were,' he drawled flatly, his brilliant gaze cold and level, his handsome mouth set in a hard line. 'But financial security is the most I intend to put on the table. I have no plans to marry you. Not now, not ever.'
She hadn't been talking about marriage either. She had been hoping for some verbal acknowledgement of reconciliation between them and the hint that a degree of caring and commitment could exist in the future. But he was not even prepared to concede the possibility that over time something deeper might develop.
'I wasn't referring to marriage. There are options which go beyond mistress and don't stretch as far as matrimony,' Hope framed with weary dignity. 'Please don't be offended but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I'm feeling incredibly tired and I'd like to lie down for a while.'
Belatedly noticing her pallor, Andreas descended from his icy tower of reserve at supersonic speed. Concern in his troubled gaze, he strode across the room. With careful hands he scooped her up and rested her down again gently on the bed. 'Let me take you back to London with me. You don't even need to get dressed. I could wrap a blanket round you,' he heard himself suggesting.
'Don't fuss. I'm too tired to go anywhere,' she muttered sleepily.
'Theos…I think I should get a doctor to check you over,' Andreas continued.
'Don't be daft. I'm only pregnant,' she mumbled soothingly, heavy eyelids already drooping. Andreas had always admired Hope's robust good health. She was never sick. Any condition capable of flattening her to a bed before nine in the evening was the equivalent of a serious illness in Andreas's book. She looked exhausted and the translucence of her skin lent her a disturbingly fragile air. Guilt threatened to swallow him alive. He tugged the bedding up over her and tucked her in as she slid over onto her side. He had subjected her to a great deal of stress. That had to stop right now.
He shouldn't be throwing Ben Campbell up and upsetting her either. But had he been a substitute for Campbell in the bedroom this evening? he wondered rawly. Understandably, Campbell had backed off once he'd realised Hope was carrying Andreas's child. That would have been a distinct turn-off for the other man. Was the fact that Andreas had been a substitute the reason why Hope had referred to their recent physical encounter as being just sex?
His mobile phone vibrated. He walked out to the landing and pulled across the door before answering it.
'Where are you?' Elyssa demanded stridently. 'You've got to come and sort Finlay out!'
Andreas raised a wry ebony brow and said nothing.
He had never made the mistake of interfering between his sister and her husband. Elyssa was volatile and could be quite a handful. Finlay might worship the ground his beautiful wife walked on but he was no pushover.
'This is serious!' his sister gasped and an uncharacteristic sob broke up her voice. 'Finlay says he's leaving me!'
Switching off his phone a couple of minutes later, a grim expression stamped on his darkly handsome features, Andreas strode back into the bedroom.
Hope's feathery lashes fluttered up on drowsy turquoise eyes. 'Sorry… did I drift off?'
'Come back to London with me,' Andreas urged forcefully, 'I don't like leaving you here alone.'
With a shake of her blonde head, she burrowed deeper into the pillow. Andreas adjusted the sheet again and resisted an almost overpowering need to just grab her up and stow her in the front of his car. His life had been so smooth when she had just done as he'd asked. Now everything was a battle and he hated it. He needed an edge. He needed a country house, something Hope would take one look at and fall hopelessly in love with. Cue listed building of historical interest, oak beams, walled garden, loads of bathrooms. At least it would be a good investment. He contacted a top city estate agent and passed on his requirements.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE strident call of the phone wakened Hope the folllowing day. In her dream she was wearing a billowing evening frock and drifting gracefully across a vast green lawn towards Andreas, who had never looked more like a movie star. Then all of a sudden the dream turned into a nightmare for Andreas got fed up waiting and walked off. Even though she tried frantically hard to catch up with him, he kept on getting further and further away from her. She sat up with a start and his name on her lips, her heart pounding with panic.
When she snatched up the phone, she somehow assumed that it would be Andreas and was guiltily but deeply disappointed when she realised that' the caller was Vanessa. Her friend was so thrilled by the news she had to relate that it was several minutes before Hope grasped what the other woman was talking about. A London fashion designer had seen Vanessa's photographic study of Hope's handbags and, having been hugely impressed by Hope's sense of style, was eager to meet Hope in person and see more of her work.
Hope called the number that Vanessa gave her and agreed to an appointment late that same day. She had to leap out of bed, pack her bag and ring a taxi to take her to the train. Her relaxing country break had lasted less than forty-eight hours. But she was very excited that her designs had attracted the attention of a real trendsetter in the fashion world.
Just before she locked up the cottage, a courier delivered a brand new mobile phone to her courtesy of Andreas. It was her favourite colour of lilac and it was incredibly cute as well as being possessed of every technological development known to man, most of which she would never use, but which Andreas would take the first opportunity to explain and demonstrate in detail. Of course, she knew she shouldn't accept the phone, but she absolutely craved the sense of connection she experienced at the frequent sound of his dark, deep drawl.
Establishing less fraught relations with Andreas made good sense, she reasoned inwardly. After all, they would soon be parents even if they were no longer together. Her throat filled with an immoveable lump. Had she been a little hasty rejecting him the night before? Hurriedly she squashed that weak rebellious thought.
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