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

by Clare Connelly

  “I presume there was no disaster?” His voice, despite the torrent of feeling he was experiencing, was cynically cold.

  “No.” She bit down on her lip. Something had changed within his bride. She was worried. Or was she missing Eric? He closed his eyes briefly on a wave of regret.

  This plan had seemed simple at first. But if he stopped and thought about it, nothing was simple about marrying a woman he really, really didn’t trust. And deep down, possibly didn’t even like.

  Beyond sex, what did they have?

  He lifted his hands to her hips and brought her towards him. When he kissed her, it was with the deliberate intention of wiping anything from her mind but him and that moment. Their silky bodies were wet beneath the water.

  He discarded her flimsy underwear and took possession of her with a desperate hunger, made all the more desperate by a simmering anger. Against the edge of the pool, he made her his, and he made sure she understood. Eric – whatever he’d meant to her before – was in the past. He, and this odd marriage of theirs, was her future.

  Sophie stretched her arms above her head. A week of marriage to Alessandros Petrides had defied every single one of her expectations.

  Her body was relaxed and satisfied, and she seemed to be existing in a permanently exhausted state. Days were merging seamlessly into nights, as they seemed to go from bed, to the pool, then back to bed, occasionally pausing to eat a meal – just enough to sustain them and ensure their energy wouldn’t wane.

  Her smile was enigmatic as she let out a low noise of contentment.

  Across the room, in the act of dressing fully for the first time since their wedding, Alex stilled. In the reflection of the floor to ceiling mirror, he caught his wife’s image, and a tangle of dark emotions jostled within him.

  He had married her to remove an impediment from his sister’s life.

  But making love to her had made her something else.

  She was now an impediment in his life.

  No. He returned to buttoning his shirt, his face scowling darkly. That wasn’t the right word. She was an addiction and a curse.

  He knew her intimately. He knew what she liked. What she craved. What made her giggle. What made her groan. He knew that she liked to fall asleep with her head on his chest, listening to the pounding of his heart. He knew that she liked to hum to herself when she showered, and that she was always slightly off key. He knew that she hated wearing make-up and loved not wearing a bra. He knew that she had a libido that matched his, and a curiosity for the sensual world they had been exploring together. He knew that she considered apples and toast to be a complete food pyramid, particularly when topped up with coffee. And he knew that she liked to keep her toenails painted pink.

  “Why are you putting on clothes?” She asked, and the hint of betrayal in her tone brought a reluctant smile to his face.

  He moved back towards the bed, his manner difficult for Sophie to decipher. “I have to go to Athens today.”

  “Athens,” she asked, her big blue eyes wide as they startled to his.

  He made a sound of assent, and sat on the edge of the bed. He cupped a hand over her head, stroking her soft, flowing hair.

  “For how long?”

  “Only the day, or I would have suggested you come with me.” He flicked his shirtsleeve, squaring the black diamond cufflinks into place.

  “Oh.” She dropped her gaze, wondering at the sense of loneliness and dread that was already crinkling her contentment.

  “Another time, agape mou.”

  “Sure. Yes. Of course.”

  “You will miss me?” He prompted, pressing a finger beneath her chin. He wondered then at his masochistic streak. He was floundering in his plan.

  “Do you want me to miss you?”

  “Yes.” He needed space. He needed to remind himself why he had married her. And yes, she was intensely desirable but also, she was simply a means to an end.

  “Believe me, I’ll miss you.” She smiled up at him, her forlorn bearing apparently evaporating. “And I hope you’ll miss me, too.”

  He smiled at her and went to kiss her, but she put a finger on his lips. Her hands dropped to his belt and she unhooked the buckle then slid it from his pants. Alessandros wanted to maintain his schedule for the day, but curiosity held him still.

  She undid his pants quickly, and freed his length from the confines of his boxer shorts. His fascination and desire leapt forward in equal measure.

  She sat on his lap, easing herself onto his arousal while her arms wrapped around his waist and her mouth sought his. She was in complete control, taking him at her pace, and he allowed her the freedom to dictate their love-making. Her need for him was a heady aphrodisiac.

  Her fingernails scratched through his shirt and his impatience grew. She moved slowly and sweetly, but he wanted more. He gripped her hips, and took control, moving her faster and firmer, until her face was pink and her voice was a fever pitch of longing.

  They ascended the heavens together, an orgasm tore through them as one; they held each other tight, their bodies a mass of limbs and flesh. Sophie could have wept.

  Her need for him was a bottomless well. No matter how often they came together, she craved him with a terrifying intensity.

  “I will miss you.” His voice was gravelly. His hands – so insistent when they were making love – were gentle now as they stroked her nakedness lovingly.

  “Why are you going?” She shifted her weight, and he smiled as he felt her body flicker in a post-love-making reaction.

  “I am interviewing your replacement.”

  “My replacement?” She startled, shifting her head so she could look at him properly.

  “Mmm. Helena will need help, now that you are here with me.”

  “Oh!” She blinked, her features showing her surprise. “Surely that’s something Eric and Helena should handle?”

  She didn’t understand the expression in his eyes. “My sister has entrusted me with the hiring of her aid.”

  Sophie chewed on her lower lip.

  “You do not think this is a good idea?” He prompted, running his hands over her arms until he could link his fingers in hers.

  “I … no. I didn’t say that.”

  “Yes, you did,” he laughed. “You said it with the this little pout,” he ran a finger over her lips. “And this little line,” he pointed between her brows.

  She nodded slowly. The secret worries she had about Helena had been becoming more and more burdensome. Not telling the man she loved that she thought Helena was suffering from depression now felt like a giant omission. The loyalty that had been so easy to claim for Eric was now being torn in two. Ultimately, she had to think of Helena and the boys. What was best for them? Helena needed help, of that Sophie was absolutely certain. And the boys?

  Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest as she pictured them. A wave of sadness swept over her. The boys. Were they missing her as she was them?

  She moved away from him, and stood, nibbling her lower lip as she tried to work out how to move forward. “It’s important to find the right fit,” she said quietly, toying with the silky blonde ends of her hair.

  “Of course,” he agreed, standing and redressing.

  But Sophie was anxious. “Do you have long before you go?”

  “I am already later than I intended to be, courtesy of my wife.”

  She swallowed past the anxiety in her throat. “I’ll see you tonight?”

  “I’ll be late. Don’t wait up.” He kissed the tip of her nose and then stalked from the room. She watched him go with the certainty that she no longer knew who she was.

  How had she let that happen?

  She’d known him for barely a month! A month! And she could no longer see where she ended and he began.

  She kept herself busy to stave off the way she missed him. Corfu was a beautiful island, and the town was a relatively short drive from Alessandros’s villa. But she didn’t yet feel up to driving one of his
expensive sports cars, especially on the wrong side of the winding roads. And so she explored his villa instead. Rooms of beautiful things, it had been expertly decorated. There were photographs of Helena and the children in several of the rooms, and in the loft upstairs, a collection of pictures they’d posted to him over the years.

  Sophie ate well. She had a whole week to make up for, and Alena seemed intent on spoiling her. The olives, cheese, tomato, baguette, cured meats and roast lamb seemed to stretch forever, but Sophie wasn’t complaining.

  It was a relief, though, when dusk fell over the island, casting a pale golden glow over the villa, which gradually gave way to darkness.

  Sophie settled with her iPad and was about to email her sisters when the phone began to ring. It was late, and she didn’t want Alena to be disturbed, and so she scrambled for the handset.

  It was at that exact moment that Alex arrived back at the Villa. His day had been long, though fruitful. He had selected an excellent candidate for Helena. A woman with miles of experience, and a distinctly unglamorous bearing. She would be of little interest to Eric; the children and Helena would be safe.

  He reached for the phone instinctively, grabbing it just as the ringing stopped.

  “It’s me.”

  He froze in the hallway as he recognised Eric’s voice instantly.

  “Eric, is everything okay?”

  “I suppose so.” Alex grimaced. His old friend was grumbling like a child.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “We miss you.”

  “I miss you, too. I was almost in tears today, thinking of those boys.” Of course, missing the twins had only been a part of her sulking. Mainly, it had been her husband she’d been thinking of.

  There was a long silence, heavy with Eric’s worry.

  “Eric, how’s Helena?”

  “That’s what I’m calling you about.”

  “What is it?”

  Something in Sophie’s voice caught Alex’s attention. She was worried. He gripped the handset tightly.

  “Did you tell Alex anything?”

  “No!” She sighed softly, and Alex could just picture her, the way her beautiful mouth would have swelled around the soft exhalation of breath.

  “You mustn’t. I’ve been thinking about it. He would never forgive me.”

  A dark emotion coursed through Alex.

  “Eric …”

  “I mean it, Sophie. It has to stay between you and me. At least until I’ve talked to Helena. Promise me.”

  “Eric …”

  “Promise me!” Eric’s tone was desperate.

  “Eric, this is no one’s fault.”

  Alex clenched a fist by his side. Is that seriously how his wife was justifying an affair with a married man.

  “Alex would be furious. With both of us.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” She sighed again, but this time, it was loaded with angst. “I almost told him this morning, Eric.”

  “You did what? Sophie, don’t be crazy! He’ll shoot the messenger. If anyone’s going to have this conversation with him, it’s me.”

  “But I hate lying to him. I hate keeping it from him. Don’t you think he deserves to know?”

  “I think it will make an enormous, dramatic mess if you get him involved.”

  “He is involved! He’s my husband. And Helena’s brother.”

  “Yes, and he is my friend.”

  Sophie sobbed. “This is such a mess. We have to do what’s right, Eric.”

  “Then just … don’t do or say anything yet. Not until I work out what to do about Helena.” Eric made a frustrated sound. “This would be so much easier if we could meet in the kitchen for one of our late night sessions, wouldn’t it?”

  She smiled as she remembered their shared love of coffee and the midnight hours. “I’ll try to get over to see you all soon.” She thought of how lonely she’d been that day. “Perhaps next time Alex is travelling.” She would do anything to avoid being alone in the house without him, rattling around like a lovesick teenager.

  Alex disconnected the call silently and stood, staring at the white wall opposite.

  Everything he had thought to be true had just been confirmed, and in the most treacherous manner! To hear his wife and Eric casually discussing the hushing up of their affair – or worse, the continuation of it – was sickening.

  He spun on his heel and walked back out the front door of his home. He needed to cool off before he saw her, or he wasn’t sure what he’d say. In that moment, he felt the angriest he’d ever been in his life.

  “I’m sorry to bother you with this when you’re a loved up newlywed.”

  She grimaced. “It’s fine. I know how worried you are. I just wish there was more I could do to help. The thing is, I know Alex would want to know. I know he would be able to help …”

  “God, Soph. You’re his wife, but I’ve known him for years. When it comes to Helena, he is just totally controlling. If he thought her to be unhappy, he’d make it worse.”

  “I just think you’re being unfair. He’s a great man. And he loves you both, not just Helena …”

  Eric sighed. “I know. Just … let me try to get Helena on-board. Sometimes I think she realises how dire things are. Other times, she’s in complete denial.”

  Sophie nodded. “Okay. I hear what you’re saying. But there has to be a time limit on it. I can’t keep this secret from the man I love for much longer.”

  “It’s such a bloody mess. Helena just clams up whenever I mention it.”

  “I know.” She nodded into her lonely bedroom. “We’ll work it out.”

  She disconnected the call to Eric with no idea that her own life was the one in tatters; that Alex had overheard only part of the conversation and leaped to all the wrong conclusions.

  5

  Three full days had passed with no word from Alex. Only a brief text message on his first night away to let her know he’d been held up. When she’d asked him when he expected to return to their home, he hadn’t responded. Nor had he responded to her call the next day. Nor her call the day after that.

  Sophie’s loneliness and ache for him was now eating her alive. She sat at the kitchen table, staring unseeing at the ocean. How had she come to depend on him so completely in such a short period of time? Where was the strong, independent, world-travelling woman she’d prided herself on being? She was well aware that her moping was setting any kind of feminist movement back fifty years, and yet she was incapable of breaking the fog.

  “I miss you.” The simple three words sat blinking on her phone. She hovered her finger over the send button. It was far too insipid for how she felt. Her body, having never known the kind of pleasure Alessandros was capable of invoking, was now in agony for the deprivation of it.

  She tapped back over the keys and tried again. “I am in agony without you.”

  Ugh! Far too needy. She dropped the phone to the table and focussed back on the ocean. It rolled in and out with a reassuring regularity. Sophie wondered distractedly what it felt like at that time of year? The days were still warm, though Autumn had officially begun and before long, a Christmas chill would settle over the continent. Even here in Greece, the seasons would shift.

  Her phone buzzed and she scrambled for it with such haste that she sent her tea flying to the ground. She ignored the mess; it would wait. Her phone began to bleep, and she prayed, as she swished it open, that she would hear from her husband.

  I will be home late tonight.

  Sophie read the words with a strange feeling of confusion.

  Where was the emotion? Where were the ‘x’s he had signed off with previously? At least, she thought with a small flicker of pleasure, he would be back. Then everything would feel normal. Then, it would be fine.

  Feeling like even more of a traitor to womanhood in general, she quickly mopped up her tea and then set about preparing for him. Thoughts of dinner fled from her mind completely; instead, she thought only of Alex. She w
andered the garden and collected wildflowers. Frangipani, hibiscus, and the spiky bougainvillea that grew rampant over one side of his villa, all pulled together to make a bright and fragranced arrangement. She set it on his side of the bed, and then bathed in the beautiful milk and honey lotion he’d given her as part of her wedding present. She shaved her legs and moisturised them until they were soft and silky, and styled her hair into a loose bun at her nape.

  She wore only a simple black dress, low cut at the front and scooped at the back, it fell to her knees with a little kick, drawing attention to her slender form.

  And then, she waited. Nine o’clock came and went. Ten o’clock followed. And then eleven. It was almost midnight when Alex finally returned. Perhaps he hadn’t expected her to wait up for him, because he walked into the house silently. Sophie, from the armchair in the lounge, watched as he placed his keys on the sideboard and then ran a hand over his neck.

  He looked … wonderful. And yet tired, too. He’d undone his tie and it was loose around his neck. His shirt was unbuttoned to reveal a strong column of neck and some coarse hair, which she knew ran down the middle of his taut waist, into his pants. Sophie felt her body stir instantly at the thought of his nakedness.

  He stood in the hallway for a very long time. Not moving, not doing anything, except thinking.

  Had something happened? Was something the matter? She ached for him in a way that she hadn’t known possible, and yet she stayed where she was. Though he was her husband, his absence had done something to her confidence. She no longer felt, as she had done only days earlier, as though she had a right to touch him.

  As though he could feel her intent gaze, his eyes lifted quickly and landed on her with a sharp, searing inspection. And Sophie gasped. Her stomach was in knots; her heart was pounding into her ribs.

  “Hi.” It was a strangled whisper; a plea into the night air.

  He walked towards her slowly. Sophie might have even said reluctantly. And when he was close enough, she breathed in deeply and let his intoxicating fragrance soothe her nerves. Only it didn’t. Her body lurched with remembered sensations and she found herself standing on autopilot.