Mistress: Taming the Playboy. Sharon Kendrick

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ

      ‘Indeed I am.’ His black eyes glittered. ‘As your new husband I should not, of course, have dreamt of abandoning you on your first evening. But this was the choice you made, Laura—and you must live with the consequences even if they are not to your liking.’

      ‘At least I can live with my conscience,’ she said tightly.

      ‘Well, bravo for you!’ he mocked, as he finished tucking in his silk shirt. ‘And tomorrow Alex will join me and my father for lunch. The child will meet his grandfather for the first time.’

      ‘That’s good.’ Laura stared at him, suddenly aware of just how little she really knew about him. ‘And … your mother?’

      There was an infinitesimal pause before he spoke. ‘My mother died many years ago,’ he said.

      ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said Laura, interpreting his flat tone as grief, knowing from her own experience that the dead must always be acknowledged, even if the subject sometimes made you feel miserable. ‘What happened?’ she questioned gently.

      ‘She died of pneumonia a long time ago,’ he said, his face stony. ‘But my family history need not concern you, Laura.’

      ‘It’s Alex’s family history, too,’ she reminded him, taken aback by the sudden venom in his tone.

      ‘Then I will discuss such matters with Alex,’ he said. ‘And it’s pointless looking at me with those wounded grey eyes—because as my wife you could have legitimately shared such discussions. As it is there are plenty of other things to occupy you. So why don’t you run along and speak to Demetra.’

      He paused deliberately, enjoying seeing the flush of colour to her cheeks, wanting to rub in the subservience she had insisted on. Wanting to wound her as she had somehow wounded him, though he couldn’t for the life of him work out how. ‘And then prepare to wait on my table,’ he finished cuttingly.

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      LAURA awoke to that confusing sensation of being in a strange room and not realising quite where she was—until she saw the stripes of bright sunlight shafting in through the bottom of the shutters and felt unaccustomed warm air wafting her body. She was in Greece—on the Karantinos island—and all night long she’d dreamt of Constantine, remembering the coldness in his voice when she’d tried to ask him about his mother, his dismissing her and her questions with a crisp arrogance clearly intended to drive home her reduced status in his household.

      Some time during the night she must have kicked off the crisp cotton sheet, and now she was lying sprawled and exposed in a little nightdress which had ridden up over her hips during her very restless sleep. Which was surprising, given how tired she’d been following a delicious supper eaten with Demetra and her son in the cosy informality of the large kitchen.

      Afterwards she and Alex had gone for a walk around the vast estate, with Demetra’s son, Stavros, acting as their guide. The young Greek student had pointed out all the bright constellations in the night sky and Alex had had the time of his life as a brand-new world of astronomy had opened up for him.

      And then Laura sat bolt upright in bed. Alex! She hadn’t heard a peep out of him all night—when she’d tucked him and Blue Bear up in bed he’d barely been able to murmur goodnight before he was out for the count. What if he’d had nightmares? Got up and gone looking for her? Or wanted a drink and found himself lost in this vast and unknown house?

      Grabbing her matching wrap, she hurried from her room and burst into Alex’s room—to find it completely empty. ‘Alex!’ she gasped.

      ‘He’s outside,’ came a voice from behind her, and she whirled around to find Constantine standing in the doorway of the room—an unfathomable look on his face as he studied her.

      Aware that her hair was unbrushed and her eyes still full of sleep, Laura blinked. ‘Outside where?’

      ‘By the pool—with Demetra’s son.’

      ‘You mean you left my son—’

      ‘Our son,’ he corrected.

      ‘With someone who’s virtually a stranger—by a swimming pool when he can’t even swim that well!’

      ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake—do you really think I would have placed him in any danger? I’ve known Stavros all his life, and he swims like an eel!’ he snapped. ‘I’ve been with them all morning, and apparently you all had dinner together last night. They’ve been getting along famously. If you hadn’t overslept you could have seen that for yourself.’ His expression darkened. ‘What I want to know is why he can’t damned well swim in the first place?’

      ‘Because …’ ‘Because what, Laura?’ he queried archly.

      ‘Because—’ Oh, what was the point in hiding anything from him? ‘Well, the lessons were expensive …’ Her voice tailed away as she realised he was looking at her in disbelief.

      ‘Expensive?’ he repeated incredulously.

      She thought he sounded as if he were trying out a new and unknown word. But how could he understand what it was like to have to make every penny count when he had spent a life with an abundance of wealth?

      ‘He has football coaching at the weekends instead,’ she justified. ‘And I couldn’t afford everything.’

      ‘So here we have my son, the pauper,’ he said bitterly. ‘A Karantinos heir living on the breadline!’

      Laura swallowed, suddenly realising how exhausted he looked—as if he hadn’t had a wink of sleep all night. His black eyes were hooded and tired, and the dark shadow at his jaw suggested that he might not yet have shaved. The expensively dressed Greek billionaire was a world away from this barefoot and elemental-looking man in faded jeans and T-shirt who stood in front of her.

      It seemed all too disturbingly intimate and familiar—a glimpse of the old Constantine—and Laura shrank back, suddenly and dangerously aware of his proximity and the fact that while he was fully dressed she was wearing very little. Nothing but a very short wrap over an equally short nightdress that barely came to the middle of her bare thigh. And from the sudden tightening of his features the realisation had begun to dawn on him at precisely the same moment.

      Without another word, Laura turned and walked out of the room and back along the corridor to her own—but to her horror and shameful excitement, she realised that Constantine was right behind her.

      ‘No,’ she whispered ineffectively, as he shut the door behind him and she felt his warm breath on her neck.

      ‘Oh, yes,’ he said grimly, turning her round as if she were a mannequin in a store window. ‘You should not walk around the house half-naked if you don’t want this particular outcome—nor make big eyes at me and allow your body to tremble with such obvious hunger whenever you come near me.’

      Afterwards, she’d try to tell herself that she had done everything to resist him—but that would be a complete lie. She did nothing. Nothing but stare up at him, her parched lips parting with unashamed yearning, a tiny little whimper of desire escaping from them as he moved closer still. And then it was too late. His kiss was like dynamite, his touch the fire which made it combust—and Laura went up in flames.

СКАЧАТЬ