Greek's Pride: The Stephanos Marriage / A Passionate Surrender / The Greek Bridegroom. HELEN BIANCHIN

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      He looked at her for what seemed an age, then his voice sounded cold—as icy as an Arctic gale. ‘Think carefully before you burn any figurative bridges,’ he warned silkily.

      Alyse glared at him balefully, hating him, abhorring what he represented. ‘Get out of my house. Now!’ Taut, incredibly angry words that bordered close on the edge of rage as she moved swiftly from the room.

      In the foyer she reached for the catch securing the front door, then gasped out loud as Aleksi Stefanos caught hold of her shoulders and turned her towards him with galling ease.

      One glance at those compelling features was sufficient to determine his intention, and she struggled fruitlessly against his sheer strength.

      ‘The temptation to teach you the lesson I consider you deserve is almost irresistible,’ he drawled.

      His anger was clearly evident, and, hopelessly helpless, Alyse clenched her jaw tight as his head lowered in an attempt to avoid his mouth, only to cry out as he caught the soft inner tissue with his teeth, and she had no defence against the plundering force of a kiss so intense that the muscles of her throat, her jaw, screamed in silent agony as he completed a ravaging possession that violated her very soul.

      Just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over, and she sank back against the wall, her eyes stricken with silent hatred.

      At that precise moment a loud wailing cry erupted from the bedroom, and Alyse turned blindly towards the nursery. Crossing to Georg’s cot, she leant forward and lifted his tiny body into her arms. He smelled of soap and talc, and his baby cheek was satin-smooth against her own as she cradled him close.

      His cries subsided into muffled hiccups, bringing stupid tears to her own eyes, and she blinked rapidly to still their flow, aware within seconds that her efforts were in vain as they spilled and began trickling ignominiously down each cheek.

      This morning life had been so simple. Yet within twelve hours Aleksi Stefanos had managed to turn it upside down.

      She turned as the subject of her most dire thoughts followed her into the nursery.

      ‘You bastard!’ she berated him in a painful whisper. ‘Have you no scruples?’

      ‘None whatsoever where Georg is concerned,’ Aleksi Stefanos drawled dispassionately.

      ‘What you’re suggesting amounts to emotional blackmail, damn you!’ Her voice emerged as a vengeful undertone, and Georg gave a slight whimpering cry, then settled as she gently rocked his small body in her arms.

      ‘What I’m suggesting,’ Aleksi Stefanos declared hardily, ‘is parents, a home, and a stable existence for Georg.’

      ‘Where’s the stability in two people who don’t even like each other?’ Damn him—who did he think he was, for heaven’s sake?

      An icy shiver shook her slim frame in the knowledge that he knew precisely who he was and the extent of his own power.

      ‘The alternatives are specific,’ he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, ‘the choice entirely your own. You have until tomorrow evening to give me your answer.’

      She was dimly aware that he moved past her to open the door, and it was that final, almost silent click as he closed it behind him that made her frighteningly aware of his control.

       CHAPTER THREE

      ALYSE STOOD WHERE she was for what seemed an age before settling Georg into his cot, then she moved slowly to the front of the house, secured the lock and made for her own room, where she undressed and slid wearily into bed.

      Damn. Damn him, she cursed vengefully. Aleksi Stefanos had no right to place her in such an invidious position. For the first time she felt consumed with doubt, apprehensive to such a degree that it was impossible to relax.

      Images flooded her mind, each one more painful than the last, and she closed her eyes tightly against the bitter knowledge that adoption was absolute, so final.

      If Aleksi Stefanos was successful with his application, he would remove Georg several thousand kilometres away to the opposite side of the continent. To see him at all, she would have to rely on Aleksi Stefanos’s generosity, and it would be difficult with her business interests, to be able to arrange a trip to Queensland’s Gold Coast more than once a year.

      The mere thought brought tears to her eyes, and she cursed afresh. At least divorced parents got to share custody of their children.

      However, to become divorced, one first had to marry, Alyse mused in contemplative speculation. Maybe … No, it wasn’t possible. Or was it? How long would the marriage have to last? A year? Surely no longer than two, she decided, her mind racing.

      If she did opt for marriage, she could have a contract drawn up giving Miriam a percentage of the profits, thus providing an incentive ensuring that the boutique continued to trade at a premium. As far as the house was concerned, she could lease it out. Her car would have to be sold, but that wouldn’t matter, for she could easily buy another on her return.

      A calculating gleam darkened her blue eyes, and a tiny smile curved her generous mouth.

      When Aleksi Stefanos contacted her tomorrow, he would discover that she was surprisingly amenable. It was infinitely worth a year or two out of her life if it meant she got to keep Georg.

      For the first time in the six weeks since Antonia’s funeral, Alyse slept without a care to disturb her subconscious, and woke refreshed, eager to start the new day.

      With so much to attend to, she drew up a list, and simply crossed every item off as she dealt with it.

      A call to Hugh Mannering determined that marriage to Aleksi Stefanos would reduce the adoption proceedings to a mere formality, and he expressed delight that she was taking such a sensible step.

      Alyse responded with a tongue-in-cheek agreement, and chose not to alarm her legal adviser by revealing the true extent of her plans.

      Miriam was delighted to be promoted, and proved more than willing to assume management of the boutique for as long as necessary.

      By late afternoon Alyse was able to relax, sure that everything was in place.

      A light evening meal of cold chicken and salad provided an easy alternative to cooking, and she followed it with fresh fruit.

      The telephone rang twice between seven and eight o’clock, and neither call was from Aleksi Stefanos.

      A cloud of doubt dulled her eyes as she pondered the irony of him not ringing at all, only to start visibly when the insistent burr of the phone sounded shortly before nine.

      It had to be him, and she let it peal five times in a fit of sheer perversity before picking up the receiver.

      ‘Alyse?’ His slightly accented drawl was unmistakable, his use of her Christian name an impossible liberty, she decided as she attempted to still a sense of foreboding. ‘Have you reached a decision?’

      He certainly didn’t believe in wasting words! A tinge of anger heightened СКАЧАТЬ