Billionaires: They're powerful, hot, charming and richer than sin...

by Clare Connelly

10 August, 06.28 am

  From: Ava

  To: Sophie, Olivia

  I don’t see why it needs to be.

  10 August, 06.29 am

  From: Olivia

  To: Sophie, Ava

  Um, maybe because of a rather adorable two year old with enormous brown eyes and olive skin? A little girl who is the spitting image of her father?

  If Olivia could have known the effect her words had on Ava, she would have couched her point a little more carefully. For faraway, on the western edge of the Australian continent, surrounded by pristine grapevines and the sound of the rolling ocean in the distance, Ava was panicking. She had been panicking for months. The bridal party had booked to stay at her accommodation, the sweet little row of cottages nestled in amongst the grapes. And Ava had taken the booking before she’d realised that Cris would be one of their group. Her past, the past she’d spent every day facing up to because of their secret daughter, was about to come right back into her present.

  10 August, 06.29 am

  From: Ava

  To: Sophie, Olivia

  I’ll work it out.

  10 August, 06.30 am

  From: Sophie

  To: Ava, Olivia

  You have to tell him, Aves. He’s her dad. And he’s going to take one look at her and know that.

  10 August, 06.31 am

  From: Ava

  To: Sophie, Olivia

  We weren’t talking about me. Don’t worry about Cristiano. I’ll handle him.

  Do you think either of you will make it for Christmas? I know you said you weren’t sure … but we’d love to see you.

  It brought a nostalgic smile to Sophie’s face. She hadn’t even thought about Christmas. She had been planning to fly back for a whirlwind week. But that was before meeting Alessandro. Her heart clenched in her chest as she thought of her fiancé .

  10 August, 06.32 am

  From: Sophie

  To: Ava, Olivia

  I really don’t know, I’m so sorry. If not this year, definitely next.

  Liv, keep me posted on your plans. Would love to see you in Greece if you can make it. Ava, we need to talk more about Cris. I’ll call you later in the week. Love you girls. x

  10 August, 06.32 am

  From: Olivia

  To: Ava, Sophie

  You go marry that gorgeous billionaire, Soph!! Have a champas for me and I’ll see you soon. You’re going to be a gorgeous bride.

  “It’s paradise,” she said honestly.

  “And yet you are quiet.”

  She bit down on her lip, her eyes following the coastline beneath Alex’s enormous villa. “A little.”

  “What is it?” He lowered the spaghetti straps of her travelling dress and ran his hands over her bare shoulders. She was warmed from the sun and when he kissed her, he tasted sunshine mingled with perspiration and sunscreen.

  “It’s … the boys,” she said finally. “I can’t help thinking about their little faces when we drove off.”

  Alex compressed his lips. No. Nor could he. Nor could he stop seeing Eric’s slightly panicked expression as they stepped into the limousine. Only Helena had been truly happy. Relieved, even.

  He pushed aside those thoughts. He was here now, with Sophie. His wife.

  “Are you disappointed your sisters were not there?”

  “Disappointed? Of course not.” She spun around in the circle of his arms and smiled up at him. It was a convincing smile. He could genuinely believe that she loved him. “We hardly gave them time to make the trip, after all.”

  Two weeks! Who would have thought it could be arranged so swiftly? She stifled a perplexed sigh.

  Alessandros Petrides could accomplish anything in the world, even a super-rushed wedding.

  “Still, family is family. Perhaps we should have waited …”

  “Is that really what you would have wanted?” She teased, for his impatient streak had become a running joke between them.

  “No. In fact, I would have dispatched my jet to collect them and refused to take no for an answer. I am pleased you are not sad they missed things.”

  “We’ll see them soon. Ava’s … flat out on the … vineyard at the moment.” The small omission came surprisingly easily to her. Her husband would, one day, learn the truth about Ava, but the secret they’d all kept for so long was a habit Sophie wasn’t yet ready to break. She skimmed over the statement; it was something she would discuss with him later. It wasn’t a big deal anyway, to anyone but Ava, and the sisters who had helped her through the crisis of finding herself pregnant and alone. But with Cristiano’s return to the vineyard on the horizon, Sophie couldn’t help but feel a sense of worry as to how it would all work out.

  “And Olivia’s on one of her hair-brained trips.”

  “Hair-brained trips?” He prompted, already understanding the dynamic between the sisters despite having never so much as spoken to them.

  “Liv likes to take off a few times a year. She’s got a horde of equally crazy girlfriends and she chooses whomever is at a loose end at the same time and off they go. Travel on a shoe-string budget, live like a local. She’ll write a guide book one day.”

  “Perhaps one of her next trips will be to Greece.”

  “She said the very same thing,” Sophie agreed, wrinkling her nose. “But she’s just as likely to change her mind tomorrow. She’s a free spirit.”

  Alex nodded slowly. “I hope she makes the time for you. I would like to meet her, Mrs Petrides.”

  The wedding had passed in a blur. A beautiful intimate ceremony, followed by dinner at a phenomenal restaurant Sophie had only read about in Vogue and Harpers and Queen. And then this. An escape to his divine Greek mansion.

  “This place is a palace,” she said with a small smile.

  “Your palace,” he murmured, and her heart turned over. His expression was difficult to comprehend; it was as though he was waiting for her to say something. She shifted uncomfortably.

  After all, she’d have done anything to have successfully avoided falling in love with a man with money and this kind of property at his fingertips. A man like her father had been.

  Of the few facts they had about him, that he was a wealthy Italian was at the forefront of her mind often. And now she’d fallen in love with a super wealthy guy from a stunning Mediterranean island. Like she’d sworn she never would.

  “Careful, I’ll start demanding you address me as Your Majesty.”

  “I would call you anything you asked of me, Mrs Petrides.”

  Mrs Petrides. What a beautiful sound that had to it!

  “Would you do anything I asked of you, too?” She said with a small smile.

  “Well,” his voice was throaty. “That depends on what it is.”

  She pulled at her dress, unzipping it at the side so that it floated down her body and she could step out of it easily. She wore the lacy white underpants the stylist had delivered, and no bra. “I saw a pool when we drove up. Is it private?”

  “Ne,” his eyes glittered as he allowed himself the pleasure of looking at her.

  “Excellent. Swim with me.”

  “It would be my pleasure, Your Majesty,” he teased.

  Sophie’s heart turned over. It had been a whirlwind, all right, but that didn’t make it any less right nor perfect. Life had a habit of throwing curve balls and there was no way she was going to be foolish enough to pass this one up. What should she have done? Waited a sensible period of time as Ava had urged? For once, she was channelling her inner Olivia, and throwing any kind of caution to the wind.

  “I’m so glad I married you,” she said with a spark of pleasure as she stared up at him.

  His eyes widened with apparent surprise and then he leaned down and scooped her up, carrying her small frame easily over one shoulder.

  “Hey!” She laughed, punching him playfully. “I can walk you know.”

  “You walk beautifully, my love, but this way I get to touch you as we go.” And to prove his point, he
moved his hands to her rear, and cupper her buttocks.

  But Sophie didn’t react at first. She was momentarily struck by a dawning realisation.

  My love. It had sounded strangely discordant and unusual coming from his mouth, and she immediately understood why.

  He had never said that word to her. Or specifically, those three words. Had she said it to him? She searched her mind and recalled having uttered I love you several times, often after they’d made love and she was in the throes of falling back to earth after an unimaginable pleasure. But she’d said it at other times, too. When they were discussing the wedding and where they’d live initially. When they were walking hand and hand from his house to Helena’s. She’d said it often.

  And he hadn’t.

  He eased her down to the ground, his hands running over her body with possessive intent. “You are beautiful.” It was a growl from the base of his throat; a deep sound laced with admiration and disbelief.

  “So are you.”

  He shrugged out of his shirt, then stepped out of his pants. He’d worn a suit to the wedding. A crisp black suit with a stark white shirt. He’d been stunning. The most glorious sight she’d ever beheld.

  She traced her bright red nails over his chest now, and almost moaned aloud as her body began to ache with a throbbing need for him.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Ready?” She asked guiltily, wondering if she’d spoken her needs out loud.

  “To swim,” he murmured, lifting her up and cradling her against his chest. This time, she resisted pointing out that he didn’t need to carry her. Her heart was turning over with anticipation, but it had nothing to do with the idea of sinking into the warm, clear water.

  “That too,” he agreed with a slow-spreading smile, showing how perfectly he understood her.

  He stepped into the pool, holding Sophie as though she were a feather. The water was deliciously warm against her skin, kept that way courtesy of the bright Mediterranean sunshine and its sheltered position from winds.

  “Look at that view,” she said with true wonderment.

  “This view?” He teased, pointedly looking at her naked chest.

  She blushed in a way that he found charming.

  “You are my wife, agape mou, you do not need to be embarrassed when I compliment you.”

  “I know,” she laughed. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now. But the truth is, and I know I can be honest with you now that you’ve signed me up for life, I’ve never, not in my whole life, been with someone like you.”

  He was careful not to betray a hint of emotion. “No?”

  “Well, let’s be realistic. It’s not like guys like you are everywhere. You are a pretty rare specimen after all, Mr Petrides.”

  “Endangered?” He said lightly, and he felt an answering sense of danger piercing his gut.

  “Definitely,” she agreed. He lowered her into the water so that just her head bobbed above the surface. “I’m in heaven.”

  “It is not a bad way to spend an evening.”

  “Did you ever think, when you were living on the streets, that this would be your future?”

  “What do you think?” He said quietly.

  “It upsets you. When I ask you about that time in your life?”

  “No.” His smile was unconvincing. “It upsets me when anyone presumes I am not still that same person. That I’m not still capable of doing whatever it takes to get my way.” He was joking, but his words sent a little frisson of emotion through her.

  “I don’t think that.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and ignored that instinctive trickle of warning. “I think you’re exactly the same person. I think that boy always had the potential to be what you are. That’s what Pierre saw in you. The real you.”

  Damn her! The certainty that she was a siren filled him once more; she was able to use her beautiful voice and words to fill in the gaps in his soul and leave total contentment in their place.

  “I see the real you,” she kissed his shoulder; it was wet and his skin was warm. Her lashes fanned against her cheeks as she thought again what she’d said only moments earlier. She was in heaven. Having never felt lonely nor unhappy, she understood now that until meeting Alex, she’d been living a half-life. She hadn’t realised it, but the ecstasy of their marriage was undeniable.

  “Do you?” He asked with a hint of disbelief. For how could she? He had married her to get her out of his sister’s life. He had seduced her to make her more his than she was Eric’s. Did she truly believe she understood him? Even he couldn’t quite believe how low he’d stooped.

  Only by holding onto the belief that she deserved this was he able to quell his guilt. He was almost positive she’d been in an inappropriate relationship with Eric. There’d been no definitive smoking gun, but within the space of a week, he’d seen too many hushed conversations to be ignored. Not to mention that infuriating tete a tete he’d witnessed as Eric had emerged from her bedroom!

  Those events, coupled with the fact she’d been involved with her previous employer amounted to one undeniable fact, in Alessandros’s mind. His wife had made a habit of mixing business with pleasure, and this last time, she’d picked the wrong wife to wound.

  “Of course.” She lifted a hand to his cheek. Though he’d shaved that morning, before the wedding, it had grown back quickly, covering his square jaw with a prickly beard.

  “And what do you see?”

  “I see someone determined. Someone good. And someone kind.” She blinked up at him and he could have groaned for how stunning she was in the soft moonlight.

  She was a woman designed to tempt men.

  Well, he had put a stop to that, at least so far as other, married men went. Men like his brother-in-law.

  But at what cost?

  Would he be able to resist her power? Or would he fall just as in love with her as the poor mugs before him?

  “And I see the real you,” he said, reminding himself as much as her that he knew what motivated her.

  “I should hope so.” She pushed away from him so that she could swim to the edge of the pool. She braced her arms across its coping and stared down at the ocean below.

  Yes, he saw the real her. She was scheming, manipulative, sexy and irresistible.

  He moved behind her, and braced himself on either side of the pool, an arm on either side of her head.

  “Excuse me, sir.” At the sound of Alena, Sophie startled.

  “Relax. It is only my housekeeper,” he whispered into her ear, keeping his body where it was to shield Sophie’s nakedness from view.

  “There is a phone call for Mrs Petrides.”

  “Who is it?” His voice was a bark.

  “Mr Sandhurst, sir.”

  “Eric?” She said, and Alex imagined he felt the quiver of anticipation in her voice. His temper spiked.

  “Tell him Mrs Petrides is otherwise occupied,” he growled, more harshly than he’d intended.

  “Alex,” Sophie whispered, wishing to turn around but not wanting to risk exposing herself to anyone.

  “Sophie, it is our wedding night. Unless there is something drastically wrong, Eric will not interrupt us.”

  “But the twins …”

  “Are fine.”

  “How do you know?” She demanded, her voice rising in intensity.

  “Because. Helena would have called me if there was a problem.”

  “Then it must be something else. Something important.” She thought of Helena, and a trickle of anxiety ran through her. “Please, Alex. I’ll be quick.”

  He compressed his lips, his temper dark.

  “Alena, please bring a phone to Mrs Petrides.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The housekeeper walked back towards the house, and once she’d disappeared inside, Sophie turned in the water.

  “I had no idea we weren’t alone.”

  “We are alone.”

  “Um, there was just someone here.”

  “Alena an
d Harry are my domestics.”

  “And therefore they don’t count?”

  “Well,” he smiled despite his contained fury. “Yes, they count. But they are used to being unseen, and to not seeing.”

  Sophie wondered at the impact of his words. Strangely, for she knew him to be a renowned womaniser, she hadn’t really thought of him with other woman before then. Now?

  “I guess I’m not the first woman you’ve brought here.”

  He felt a sense of satisfaction at her obvious hurt. It was beneath him, and yet he’d relished in inflicting the blow. “No.”

  She nodded slowly, her eyes not meeting his.

  “As I don’t doubt I’m not your first lover,” he said slowly. Pryingly.

  “No,” she nodded. “You’re not.”

  Hmm. Interestingly, the discomfort was not one-sided. He didn’t like the way his gut clenched at her admission.

  “You’re my second.”

  Alessandros was very still. Even his eyes didn’t move. She lies. She lies well. She is manipulative.

  He didn’t even want to dignify her assertion with a response. Thankfully, Alena appeared before it was required of him.

  She held the cordless phone on a tray, and Alex marvelled at the gesture, as he always did. It made him feel a little like James Bond when his domestics did that kind of thing. As though he was truly lord and master with bonafide servants.

  He took the phone and handed it to Sophie, but didn’t swim away.

  “Eric, hey,” she said, her voice unmistakably upbeat.

  Alex couldn’t hear anything other than the muted hum of Eric’s words; certainly not enough to discern the detail of what he was saying.

  “I … can’t really talk about that now,” she said, her eyes lifting to Alex.

  “I understand. Just what we usually do. Yeah. Why don’t I call you in the morning? You’ll be fine. Eric? I have to go.” A pause while Eric said something else. “Okay, yes. I know. I know. Me too. Okay. Bye.”

  She handed the phone back to Alex and he pressed the red button to disconnect the call. The time it took for him to pass the receiver back to Alena should have been enough to calm him, and yet he still felt a force of emotion in his gut when he turned to face his bride.