The Greek Tycoon's Pregnant Wife

by Anne Mather

  ‘Thank you, my dear,’ he said with evident warmth. And then he saw his son.

  ‘Demetri!’ he exclaimed, and Ariadne, who had been getting rather ill-temperedly out of the back of the car, lifted her head disbelievingly.

  ‘Darling,’ she cried, ignoring Jane and his father. Darting ahead of them, she reached Demetri and, grasping his free arm, she stood on tiptoe to brush her mouth against his. ‘You’re back!’

  ‘You noticed.’ Demetri’s tone was even, but he was watching his wife and his father making their careful ascent of the steps. Then, with an inward curse, he put down his briefcase and went to help them, leaving Ariadne and Ianthe to exchange an unfriendly look.

  ‘I can manage,’ said his father irritably, and Jane permitted her husband a contemptuous stare.

  ‘Hoping to impress your girlfriends?’ she asked but the smile she’d adopted for his father’s benefit turned malicious when she looked at him.

  ‘Well, obviously I’m not impressing you,’ he retorted, ignoring his father’s protests and taking his full weight on his shoulder. ‘And believe it or not, I didn’t know Ianthe was coming here today.’

  ‘It’s of no interest to me whether you did or not,’ declared Jane, not altogether truthfully. She directed her whole attention to the old man. ‘Not much further, Leo.’

  ‘I see that.’ Demetri’s father shook his head. ‘But I’m not an invalid, you know.’

  ‘You’re not used to climbing steps,’ pointed out Demetri drily as they reached the level surface of the terrace. ‘OK.’ He released his father’s arm. ‘You’re on your own now.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Leo’s tone was clipped, but then, noticing Ianthe’s anxious expression, his voice softened. ‘Hello, little one. Where are you and Demetri off to?’

  ‘We’re not going anywhere,’ Demetri answered him, his irritation increasing with every word his father spoke.

  ‘I’m going to see Theo,’ Ianthe explained nervously. ‘Demetri says he’s staying at the cottage.’

  ‘Ah.’ The old man nodded. ‘And does your mother approve?’

  ‘Whether her mother approves or not isn’t relevant,’ said Demetri angrily, and his father gave him a warning look.

  ‘Just because you do exactly as you like, don’t expect the same behaviour from everyone else,’ he said coldly. He glanced round for Jane. ‘Come, my dear, will you give me your arm?’

  Jane looked uncomfortable now, and well she should, thought Demetri furiously. This was not why he’d brought her here, to drive a wedge between him and his father. Dammit, he’d had just about enough of this.

  ‘I’d like to speak to my wife, if you can spare her for five minutes,’ he said, ignoring Ariadne’s disapproval. They weren’t engaged yet, he told himself grimly, even if it was only a matter of time.

  His father sucked in an impatient breath. ‘Can’t it wait, boy?’ he demanded, and that word was the last straw.

  ‘No, it can’t,’ said Demetri flatly. ‘Jane: will you come into the library? We can talk there.’

  Jane glanced about her a little desperately, but she knew she’d get no help from either Ariadne or Ianthe. Leo, after a resigned shrug of his shoulders, had already begun to make his way across the smooth marble floor, proving he didn’t need her help.

  ‘I—suppose so,’ she conceded finally, with ill grace. She met Ianthe’s anxious gaze. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t keep him long.’

  ‘Oh, for pity’s sake!’ Demetri gripped her arm just above her elbow and guided her decisively towards the arched corridor that led into the west wing of the villa. Then, as if feeling some remorse for the way he was treating Ariadne, he looked back and added, ‘I’ll see you at dinner, Ari. We’ll have the whole evening to ourselves. I promise.’

  Ariadne’s face softened. ‘Endaxi.’ OK. Her tongue circled her pink lips. ‘Saghapo.’ I love you.

  Demetri made no response to this, but he could tell that Jane knew exactly what Ariadne had said. Her arm stiffened and, if she could have wrenched herself free of him, she would have done so. As it was, he had to virtually frogmarch her into the book-lined apartment and slam the heavy door behind them.

  Only then did he release her, and she quickly put some space between them. She went to stare out of the windows, windows that overlooked a cascade of flowering plants and shrubs falling away below them. From here, the sea looked distant, with acres of woodland marking the boundary of the Souvakis’ property. But the backdrop was spectacular, the sea darkening from aquamarine to deepest sapphire.

  The silence stretched, and Jane, who had determined not to be the first to speak, found her nerves growing as taut as violin strings. As always on occasions like these, she worried that he’d somehow found out about the baby. But surely if he had, she’d have heard about it before now.

  Hearing the rustle of papers, she felt compelled to turn, half expecting him to be holding a private letter from her doctor. But that was so ludicrous, she couldn’t believe she’d even considered it, and she was a little put out to discover he was riffling through some papers on his father’s desk.

  Almost trembling with indignation, she exclaimed, ‘What do you think you’re doing, Demetri? You invited me in here and now you’re apparently reading your father’s mail. If this is some kind of power play, forget it.’

  Demetri remained bent over the desk, but he looked up at her through his lashes. ‘It’s no power play,’ he told her, his eyes dropping once again to his task. Then, almost against his will, he added, ‘You seem to have my father under your spell.’

  Jane gasped. ‘And that’s what you wanted to tell me?’

  ‘No.’ At last, Demetri straightened, tossing the letter he had been examining aside. ‘I wanted to ask if you’d received the divorce papers from Carl Gerrard. They should have been with you a week ago, before you left for the island.’

  Jane’s nostrils flared. ‘Well, they weren’t,’ she retorted, excusing her answer on the grounds that the papers only arrived four days ago.

  Demetri’s brows drew together. ‘You’re sure about that?’

  ‘That they didn’t arrive a week ago?’ she asked innocently. ‘Oh, yes, I’m very sure.’

  Demetri came round the desk to prop his hips against the huge slab of granite that formed its surface and folded his arms. ‘Well, that’s very strange,’ he said, regarding her with disturbing intent. ‘When I spoke to him this morning, he assured me the papers had been sent.’

  ‘Blame the post office,’ she said, casually edging towards the door. ‘And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go and freshen up.’

  ‘Akomi. Not yet.’ He didn’t move but she knew as surely as if he had that she wouldn’t be leaving until he was finished with her. ‘Tell me,’ he continued mildly. ‘When are you planning to return to England?’

  Jane wrapped her arms about her midriff. ‘Are you wanting rid of me?’

  Demetri’s lips thinned. ‘I simply want to know what you’ve told my father.’

  ‘And not just about when I’m leaving, I’ll bet,’ she said provocatively. ‘Don’t worry, Demetri. I haven’t told anyone what happened at my apartment.’

  Demetri’s nostrils flared. ‘You say that as if it was a threat.’

  ‘No.’ Jane backed off from a full confrontation. ‘I’m just reassuring you that you have nothing to fear from me.’

  ‘To fear?’ He seemed determined to have an argument. ‘Why should I fear you, Jane? I’m sure Ariadne wouldn’t be interested in anything you had to say.’

  ‘You mean, she wouldn’t believe me? More fool her.’

  Demetri’s face darkened. ‘Are you saying you regret what happened?’

  Jane’s jaw dropped. ‘Are you joking? Of course I regret it.’

  ‘Why?’ There was an edge of scorn to his tone now. ‘It’s not as if it was anything new for you. According to that witch you call an employer, you and your boyfriend spend a lot of time at your apartment.’

  ‘That’s not true
!’ Jane couldn’t let him get away with that and she wished, not for the first time, that Olga would keep her nose out of her affairs.

  ‘Why should I believe you?’

  ‘Because Alex hasn’t even been in my apartment. Don’t judge everybody by your own standards, Demetri. Whatever you may think, I don’t sleep around.’

  Demetri’s eyes narrowed. ‘So what do you do together?’

  ‘It’s none of your business.’

  ‘Humour me.’

  ‘No.’ Jane had had enough of this. ‘I don’t ask what you and Ariadne do together. I don’t care so long as it doesn’t concern me. I don’t believe I even asked what you and Ianthe did together.’ Her lips curled. ‘I didn’t have to. I knew.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘YOU knew nothing!’

  Demetri came up off the desk in one swift, menacing lunge and Jane felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle alarmingly. He was so big, so dark, so powerful. So angry! She couldn’t help herself. She automatically backed away from him.

  And found her way blocked by the leather armchair in the window embrasure behind her. It smacked into her calves and, with a little gasp of surprise, she subsided onto the seat. Demetri loomed over her and for a moment she thought he was going to strike her. But he didn’t. What he did was bend towards her, gripping the arms of the chair, effectively imprisoning her in place.

  ‘OK,’ he said harshly, his breath hot against skin that was still slightly tender from the sun. She was wearing a cropped tank-top and a cream denim skirt and her sudden descent had driven the skirt halfway up her thighs. ‘Here it is for the last time, aghapi. I have slept with Ariadne, I don’t deny it. I have never slept with Ianthe.’

  Jane couldn’t deny the twist of pain she felt at hearing him admit that he and Ariadne were lovers, but she managed to say bitterly, ‘Someone did.’

  ‘But not me.’

  ‘Then why did she say it was?’ Jane demanded raggedly.

  ‘Same answer as before: you’d have to ask her,’ replied Demetri tersely. ‘Maybe this time she’ll tell you the truth.’

  Jane swallowed, permitting herself a look up into his dark face. ‘What I find hard to understand is how you can even associate with her if she was lying.’

  ‘To begin with, I couldn’t. But my mother—’

  ‘Oh, right.’ Jane shook her head. ‘I might have known your mother would have some part in this.’

  ‘She is fond of Ianthe,’ said Demetri through his teeth. ‘She regards her as family.’

  ‘The way she never regarded me.’

  Demetri sighed. ‘OK. I know it was hard for you. But it would have got easier.’

  ‘Before or after you’d slept with Ianthe?’

  ‘I’ve told you—’

  ‘All right, all right.’ Jane shrugged. ‘I still don’t understand why it should matter to you what I think now.’

  Demetri’s breath sharpened. ‘Because it does.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why do you think?’

  Jane’s lips twisted. ‘Because no one is allowed to contradict the great Demetri Souvakis?’ she suggested scornfully. ‘Or do you just like tormenting me?’

  ‘Do I do that?’

  His voice had thickened and this time, when Jane chanced a glance through her lashes, she surprised an odd humility in his expression.

  She shivered. ‘You know you do.’

  ‘How?’

  She spread her hands, indicating his arms and her confinement. ‘Need I say more?’

  Demetri’s eyes darkened, but he had to acknowledge that she was right. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘Point taken.’ But he didn’t move. ‘Perhaps you ought to ask yourself why.’

  ‘Why you like tormenting me?’

  ‘I didn’t say I liked it,’ he corrected her, and now his voice was harsh with emotion. He lifted a hand, which he noticed wasn’t quite steady, and took hold of her chin, turning her face up to his. ‘You still drive me crazy and you know it.’

  Jane trembled. He could feel it. Goosepimples appeared on her shoulders, ran down her arms to the hands that were clenched in her lap. A wave of colour swept up from her throat and into her face, warming the flesh beneath his fingers. And Demetri—God help him, he thought grimly—couldn’t stop himself from dropping down onto his haunches in front of her and covering her mouth with his.

  A soft moan escaped her lips, her breath filling his lungs with the taste and the smell of her. Demetri came down on one knee then and, cupping her face in his hands, he deepened the kiss until her lips parted on a gasp and he was able to plunge his tongue into her open mouth.

  The sensation was exquisite: taut muscle against soft wet flesh, and it was all too easy to remember how hot and tight she’d been when he’d pushed his sex inside her. His senses swam at the memory. A mindless kind of self-destruction was driving him on. And the throbbing pulse of his erection was like a drum beating in his head.

  ‘Demetri,’ she protested, but it was barely audible. Did she really expect him to stop? When he released her mouth to seek the scented hollow of her throat her breathing quickened. And she didn’t try to pull away.

  His mouth and teeth were seducing her, she realised, drawing her inexorably into the web she’d known before. Murmuring to her in his own language, he caressed her arms and the delicate curve of her shoulders, slipping down to probe beneath the hem of her tank-top.

  His fingers lingered in the sensitive hollow of her spine, causing another shiver of awareness. Her flesh was filmed with dampness, her scent rising to his nostrils when he bent his head and licked her skin. But the waistband of her skirt was a barrier, and his hands slid along her thighs instead to where her legs were bared and accessible.

  ‘Aghapita,’ he breathed, bending his head to kiss the inner curve of her thigh. ‘You are so beautiful!’

  ‘Dear God, Demetri—don’t!’

  ‘I want to.’

  He wouldn’t listen to her protests, and Jane was finding it increasingly hard to hold on to her sanity. Besides, there was something enormously satisfying in hearing the break in his voice when he spoke to her, the raw emotion that no amount of arrogance could hide.

  He spread her legs, his lips moving sensuously along her thigh, bestowing a trail of hot wet kisses that made her gulp and come half up out of the chair. ‘Relax,’ he said, pushing her down again. ‘Just let me do this.’

  It was insane, she thought. Didn’t he care where he was, what might happen if his mother or Ariadne took it into their heads to come and see what was happening?

  Evidently not. His mouth had reached the delta of her thighs and she felt his hands slip beneath her bottom and find the elasticated tape of her thong. Then, with a determination that no amount of resistance on her part could defeat, he pulled the scrap of silk away.

  ‘That is much better,’ he said thickly, lifting his head to press a hungry kiss to her parted lips. She felt his finger probe the moist curls at the top of her legs. ‘Isn’t it?’

  Jane couldn’t speak. She could only move her head in a helpless gesture of admission. And, as if her flushed face and agitated reaction pleased him, Demetri gripped the back of her neck and brought her mouth to his again in a hard, passionate possession.

  ‘Se thelo,’ he groaned, and she thought it was an indication of how aroused he was that he continued to speak in his own language. ‘I want you,’ he repeated hoarsely. ‘Angikse me!’ Touch me!

  Her hands had been twisted together in her lap but now they moved almost of their own accord. With a feeling of inevitability, she clutched his shoulders, pushing his suit jacket to the floor.

  Beneath his shirt, his skin was hot. His heat surged up into her fingers, almost burning her, and when he bore her back against the cushions she found he was sweating, too.

  He pushed her tank-top up above her breasts, using his tongue and his teeth to bring them to tingling, sensual life. He drew the swollen nubs into his mouth, sucking hungrily, and, because her nipples were alre
ady tender, she couldn’t deny the moan of anguish that escaped her.

  But he wasn’t hurting her. Indeed, she thought, she had never felt more excited. Her belief that a pregnant woman couldn’t possibly respond in the same way as before simply wasn’t true. Demetri had always been able to drive her crazy with longing and today was no exception.

  She was aware of him unbuckling his belt and loosening the button at his waist and she couldn’t resist. Pushing his fingers aside, she pressed his zip down and then caught her breath when his arousal pushed a handful of his silk boxer shorts into her hand. The boxers were made of the finest fabric but, when she peeled them over his erection, she had to admit that his skin was smoother and more satinlike than the richest velvet.

  ‘Theos,’ he said on a choked breath, and she realised how close to release he was.

  ‘You like that?’ she asked unsteadily, and he made a sound of pained submission.

  ‘I like it,’ he told her unevenly, and that was when she acknowledged that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Feeling his naked sex against hers, she knew the decision was no longer open to discussion. Even if she might regret it later—and she was fairly sure she would—there was nothing she wanted more.

  ‘But we—we can’t do it here,’ she protested, aware that they were in full view of anybody walking past the window outside.

  Demetri uttered a strangled groan. ‘Don’t you dare move,’ he muttered, pushing her skirt up around her waist. ‘This is good enough for me.’

  And when Demetri pushed into her hot, slick sheath, she discovered she wasn’t much interested in objecting again. He lifted her legs and encouraged her to wind them about his waist and then entered her in one smooth, satisfying lunge. He pressed in so deeply that Jane’s body had to expand and stretch to accommodate him, but dear God, she thought, he made her feel whole again.

  ‘Aghapi mou,’ he whispered and, when she gasped, ‘Am I hurting you?’

  ‘You asked me that before,’ she reminded him huskily, and he arched an anxious brow.

  ‘Well?’