Bought by the Greek Tycoon

by Jacqueline Baird

  'And you think that's enough?'

  'It's a lot more than most people in this day and age aspire to,' he said rather cynically. 'A growing percentage of people have a child with no more thought than they would give to buying a new coat, and they cast off their responsibilities with the same ease as shedding a coat.' He leant forward again. 'But let me reassure you, Jemma. Although I travel a great deal, once we have a child my schedule will be rearranged. I won't be an absent parent.'

  Surprise at his comment kept her silent, not sure she wanted to be reassured about his possible increased presence in her life. He rose to his feet and dropped a bundle of notes on the table. 'Come on, let's go,' Luke instructed and walked around to her side, and held out his hand to her. Jemma took it…

  The next morning Jemma woke up in Luke's bed, muscles aching in places she'd never known she had. There was no sign of Luke, and, leaping out of bed, she shot into the shower. Thanking her lucky stars that she had brought some clothes over yesterday, even if it had been in a fit of temper, she pulled on a pair of oatmeal-coloured trousers and teamed them with a matching silk blouse. She brushed her hair and tied it back with multi-coloured scarf, slipping her feet into soft suede mules. It took all the will-power she possessed to leave the bedroom.

  The apartment appeared to be deserted. Jemma made herself a cup of coffee in the stainless steel kitchen and wandered back into the living area, not sure what to do. Leaving it as it was seemed a good option, she mused, just as Luke appeared, looking spectacular in a dark grey business suit, a paler grey shirt and silk tie. She had trouble tearing her gaze away, and had to battle down the blush that threatened.

  'I was about to wake you, but you're dressed; good. My lawyer will be here in fifteen minutes so you can sign the pre-nup, and that's it.' Jemma was still digesting this comment when he walked across and smiled brilliantly down at her. 'Everything is ready for the wedding, honey.'

  He dropped a kiss on her brow. 'And if you haven't put your house up for sale yet, I can get my people to do it for you.'

  He was so relaxed, so matter-of-fact. A night of passionate sex obviously had no more effect on him other than to put a satisfied smile on his face. Jemma realised she needed to learn quickly to do the same.

  'No, that won't be necessary. I have it all in hand.' She didn't like to lie, but she was at a loss for anything else to say. She had made her bed and now she had to lie in it. After last night, lying in that particular bed wasn't going to be a hardship, but as for the rest of her life…

  Luke's lawyer was super-efficient and insisted on reading out the whole of the pre-nuptial agreement to them. Basically, they both kept what they owned, but Jemma got nothing if they parted in the first three years of marriage—which wasn't surprising, considering Luke would be paying into Vanity Flair for the next three years. Afterwards, Luke left with the lawyer, telling her he would be back at six, leaving Jemma to finally go home.

  * * *

  Free of Luke's powerful presence for the first time in hours, Jemma glanced around the crowd of people in disbelief. They had been married in the gardens of Luke's house in Greece a few short hours before, and if this was what Luke called a simple party then she would hate to be around when he threw a big one.

  Her father had given her away, with at least two hundred people present. Wearing a designer gown in ivory satin with a boned bodice, and nothing much else apart from a thong at Jan's insistence—because anything more would spoil the line of the slim-fitting skirt—Jemma had sat at Luke's side through a magnificent banquet set out on the vast terrace that ran the width of the house. After what had seemed like interminable speeches the music had started. Luke had led her out into the middle of the terrace and they had started the dancing.

  Jemma let her glance rest for a moment on her new husband. Luke had been pulled into the middle of the floor by a group of men and they had all shed their jackets and ties and were dancing some traditional Greek dance together. The music and laughter were loud and their movements were very sexy, making her head spin. Hastily she looked away. Spotting a huge potted vine, she crossed to gently touch the leaves before walking around the plant to one of the huge marble columns that supported the upper balcony. She leant against it. She felt hot, and the shade plus the cool marble at her back were a welcome relief from the fierce heat.

  She had done it… she was married… and everyone was happy. Theo certainly was. A brief smile spread across her tense features. Luke's grandfather's delight on seeing her when she had arrived yesterday, and his gentle charm, had done much to relieve her nervous tension at the thought of marrying Luke.

  She had been given her own room last night, in deference to her wedding day and Theo's sensibilities as to what was correct—much to Luke's disgust. But Jemma had been glad of the breathing space, having spent the two nights before in Luke's bed. It was a lot harder than she had thought to match Luke's sophisticated attitude to sex.

  Early this morning, much to her surprise, Theo had walked into her bedroom bearing a coffee tray. They had drunk coffee and he had told her that Luke was basically a good man and that he was sure his grandson loved her. But he'd also said he knew Luke could be overpowering in the pursuit of what he wanted, and that if Jemma had any doubts about marrying him she should say so now and Theo would understand.

  She had reassured the old man, and apologised for lying to him in London when she had told him she had never seen Luke before, explaining away the lie by touching on Luke's attachment to Jan at the time. Theo had appeared to accept the story, but Jemma was convinced he saw a lot more than Luke gave him credit for.

  'Excuse me?' Jemma glanced up and saw a strikingly attractive older man with a mane of white hair standing in front of her. 'I wonder if I may have a few words with you?'

  'Yes of course. Mr Karadis, isn't it?' She remembered his name because when he had been in the receiving line earlier he had looked startled when he saw her. He had been accompanied by his wife and daughter, and a son about Luke's age in a wheelchair.

  'You are—or were—Jemma Sutherland. No?'

  'Yes, why?' His brown eyes darkened with some deep emotion, and Jemma wondered if it was wise to talk to a man she didn't know, but suddenly he smiled and his handsome face came alive.

  'You are my beautiful Mary's…how do you say… niece, yes?'

  Five minutes later there were tears in Jemma's eyes and she was clutching the man's hand with her own. He had been her aunt's lover for thirty years, and the son in the wheelchair was the reason why Mr Karadis had never left his wife. Jemma told him about her aunt's will, and the house on Zante, and his eyes filled with tears.

  'Excuse a foolish old man, but meeting you and knowing you will keep her memory alive for me, and keep our secret, I am content.' And, leaning forward, he kissed her cheek. 'I can see her in your eyes, and if you ever, ever need anything at all, call on me.'

  Where on earth was she? Luke walked towards the house and stopped. His bride of a few hours was lounging back against a marble pillar, holding hands with Karadis the banker and allowing him to kiss her cheek. A man she had only just met, and probably the only man in Greece who was as wealthy as Luke. What was it with Jemma and old men? Theo had taken one look at her and been smitten, and Karadis, renowned as a model of propriety, was obviously bowled over by her charm.

  'So this is where you're hiding.' Jemma's head jerked up at the sound of Luke's voice, and saw his eyes narrow on the older man. He said something in Greek. Mr Karadis said something back, and then laughed before turning to Jemma.

  'It has been a pleasure to meet you, Jemma, and now I must go. But I hope we meet again.'

  Jemma smiled. 'So do I,' she said softly, and watched him walk away.

  'Very touching. But do you have to hide away and flirt with every old man you meet?' Luke growled.

  'I was not flirting, and nor was I hiding. I was trying to cool off.' Seeing Luke with sweat beading his forehead and his broad chest revealed by the open neck of his shirt
did nothing to lower her temperature—quite the reverse. But if the past few days with Luke had taught her anything, it was a much better understanding of her aunt Mary. And now she and her aunt had a passion for handsome Greeks males in common, as well as their passion for plants, she thought, with a secretive smile curling her lips.

  'If you say so.' He shrugged, but she could sense his underlying anger. 'You can cool off in the helicopter; it's time we said goodbye to our guests and left for Zante.' And, grasping her hand firmly, he led her back into the crowd of guests.

  A short time later Jemma stepped out of the helicopter and glanced around. They had landed on a helipad on the roof of a building. 'Where are we?' she asked.

  Ice took her arm and slanted her a sidelong glance. 'Our hotel.'

  CHAPTER NINE

  A tingling sensation the length of her spine woke Jemma from a deep sleep. It was a finger tracing her backbone, and slowly she opened her eyes to the view of a broad, hair-roughened chest. Stretching, she sighed and rolled onto her back.

  'At last you are awake.' Luke followed her over, his amused grey eyes gleaming down into hers. 'I was beginning to wonder if I would have to start without you.'

  With the rock-hard length of him pressed against her thigh there was no mistaking his aroused state. 'You are insatiable,' Jemma murmured, smiling languorously up at him.

  'Mmm, but morning arousal in the male is a fact of life—one we poor men have to deal with,' Luke said drolly, one hand reaching out to cup her breast.

  'Is it really? I didn't know that' Jemma sighed at the delicious sensations seeping through her.

  'Then you must have been singularly unobservant of the men in your life. Which reminds me…' He paused, his hand now gently stoking over both her breasts in a figure eight. 'I had a word with Liz about your five a.m. starts, and we agreed it makes much more sense for the guy you employ to take the early-morning shifts.'

  'You did what?' Jemma stiffened in outrage, no longer languorous but livid. 'You had no right to discuss my business behind my back. I'm perfectly happy with my hours as they are, and so was Liz until you put your oar in.'

  Luke's hand stilled on her breasts. 'If I truly believed for a second that you and Liz were happy with the present arrangement I would not have interfered, but I know for a fact that Liz isn't mad about it. She only alternates the early start with you because of your friendship.'

  Jemma stared at him in astonishment. 'She told you that? She's never said anything to me.'

  'As I've told you before, Jemma, you have a great ability for burying your head in the sand and seeing only what you want to see.'

  'But I asked her dozens of times if she minded.' Jemma muttered, all the fight draining out of her. 'And she always said no.'

  'Probably because as a married woman with a baby she didn't want to take advantage of the situation and appear to be doing less than her share. But surely you realised that with a baby disrupting her sleep the last thing she needed was to get up at the crack of dawn to go to work?'

  'Oh, hell!' Jemma swore. Why hadn't she insisted Liz forget the early starts? Because, if she were being brutally honest. Jemma wasn't really keen on them herself? 'You're right, she said, feeling ashamed.

  Luke's eyes lit with amusement, his hand resuming its caressing motion over her breasts. 'I usually am,' he teased. 'So, no more arguments.' His lips brushed lightly across her mouth, a fingertip scraping over a burgeoning nipple, and the teasing caresses eased her back into languorous pleasure again. 'But in consolation,' he husked, 'you were right about my being insatiable.' She saw the shadow of passion darken his chiselled features. 'And you love it, Jemma.' His mouth covered hers in a long, slow, sensuous kiss, and she had to acknowledge that she did…

  Half an hour later she refused his offer to join him in the shower, her body still pulsing in the aftermath of his tender yet torrid lovemaking. For a moment she just lay there, staring into space and trying to analyse what had happened to her. It was now Monday morning and they hadn't left the suite since their arrival on Saturday night. In fact, they had hardly left the bed.

  Luke had shown her a whole new dimension to her sexuality; one she had never known existed. She had loved Alan, and their first night together. She remembered crying afterwards, overcome with emotion at the wonder of his lovemaking. They had made love frequently, and if she hadn't reached orgasm very often it had never bothered her, so sure had she been of being loved. His death had almost torn her apart, the pain horrendous, and she never wanted to go through that again.

  But Luke aroused no such emotion in her—certainly no desire to cry. In truth, as he had led her down the many erotic paths of sexuality with a skill and expertise that drove her mindless, her only emotion—if it could be called an emotion—had been a wild and reckless carnal need to devour him whole.

  So what did that make her? Jemma wondered and rising from the bed, she pulled on a towelling wrap and walked across to the window, to stare pensively out at the view of sand and sea. She heard the shower running and turned to stare at the bathroom door, her heartbeat increasing as she pictured Luke naked in the shower.

  She answered her own question as she walked towards the bathroom. She was probably the perfect wife for a man like Luke, a notorious womaniser who saw marriage only as a business deal. They both wanted something from the union, but love did not come into the equation. Well, that suited Jemma just fine. And opening the bathroom door, she shrugged off her robe and joined Luke in the shower stall.

  * * *

  Luke looked at the steps carved into the rock and then back at Jemma. 'Is this the only way down?'

  'There's a jetty of sorts, and you can get to the house by boat, but otherwise this is it,' she said, grinning up at him. 'I hope you're fit.' She stepped past him to descend the steps.

  'No—wait.' Luke grabbed her arm. 'Let me go first, then if you fall I can stop you.' He had no intention of losing his very new wife in a headlong fall onto the rocks below.

  'My, what a gentleman,' Jemma teased, but did as he said.

  Aunt Mary's house on Zante was a typical island cottage—all on one level, about twenty feet wide and forty feet long, and set in the middle of a narrow strip of land slightly higher than the beach. It had been extended a decade or so ago, quite simply, by adding another twenty feet to one end to create a comfortable living area, with floor-to-ceiling glass doors to take full advantage of the magnificent view.

  'It's not as bad as I thought,' Luke remarked as they stopped outside the original door, and Jemma permitted herself a small smile. He was in for a shock… 'I've arranged for an architect to look over the place on Wednesday.' Which immediately knocked the smile off Jemma's face. She didn't want a stranger to see inside her aunt's house—and certainly not in Jemma's presence. She cringed with embarrassment at the very thought as she opened the door and led Luke through into the living area.

  Jemma had seen it all before—the two huge soft cushioned cream sofas, a bit shabby after years of use, the glass-topped table supported by two dolphins, the small semi circular bar in one corner and the wall of book-filled shelves. But telltale signs of Aunt Mary were all around her, and the memories came flooding back. Restlessly she moved across to the window to stare sadly out to sea, and she wondered if her aunt would approve of what she had done.

  Luke came up behind her and put his arm casually around her waist. She leant back against him, for once glad of his support. 'I don't see why you thought it wasn't fit to live in. It is a bit on the small side, but fine for holiday home. I can see now why Theo wanted to come back here. He was right about the cove, the view is spectacular.'

  'Yes,' Jemma agreed, her gaze on the high cliffs that protruded about a hundred feet at either side of the small bay, protecting it from the worst of the elements. Her eyes rested on the opposite side, where a landing of sorts had been hewn out of the rock and a path led through the garden area back to the house.

  'Come on—let's check out the bedrooms. Theo said t
here were two, but given the size of the building they will have to be extended and another couple added,' Luke suggested, turning her in his arms and looking deep into her eyes. 'I don't like to feel constrained in the bedroom,' he added wickedly.

  A slight blush stained Jemma's cheeks. 'I know,' she murmured, her eyes darkening perceptibly, and he angled down his head and claimed her full, slightly parted lips, his tongue probing straight between them with the overwhelming eroticism of an expert.

  The familiar sensual excitement lanced through her, and she closed her hands around the nape of his neck and pressed into the hard muscular wall of his chest, her breasts tingling with the contact. For a moment Jemma gave herself up to the physical pleasure only Luke could arouse in her. But only for a moment. A much better idea occurred to her and she slid her hands down between them and tore her mouth from his. She saw the puzzlement in his eyes and her lips curled in a mischievous smile.

  'You wanted to see the bedroom,' she reminded him, and, twisting away, she chuckled as she darted through the big room to the hall.

  Luke gave her a quizzical look as he stopped beside her. 'Why do I have the feeling you're up to something, Jemma?'

  Still smiling, she opened the door to the bedroom and switched on the light, illuminating the shuttered room with a subdued glow. Theatrically flinging her arms wide, she said, 'Da-da…!'

  'Oh, my God!' Luke exclaimed.

  The expression on his face was priceless and Jemma laughed out loud. The original two bedrooms and bathroom had been knocked into one large room with an en-suite bathroom at the far end. The murals covering three walls depicted erotic naked figures from ancient Greek legend in incredible positions, and in intimate detail. The ceiling was draped in wild silk shot through with gold, and in the centre was a beaten gold canopy that was supported by snake-entwined gold poles, which was an intrinsic part of the huge circular bed beneath.