Greek Affairs: Tempted by the Tycoons: The Greek Tycoon's Convenient Bride / The Greek Tycoon's Unexpected Wife / The Greek Tycoon's Secret Heir. Кейт Хьюит

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СКАЧАТЬ with the child the desire was there. It was real.’

      Real and warm and alive. Yet it was just desire—cheap and easy.

      Even desire could be a burden.

      It wasn’t love, and Rhiannon knew that was what she needed. Wanted.

      She’d just never had it.

      ‘We should go to bed. Sleep,’ she amended hastily, and Lukas acknowledged her slip of the tongue with a wry nod. ‘It’s been a long day.’

      ‘Yes, it has.’

      Rhiannon reached for her plate and he stilled her movement with one hand on her arm, his fingers curling around her wrist. ‘Perhaps that was a moment of comfort we both needed,’ he said. ‘It won’t happen again.’

      He spoke in warning, as if he thought she might expect a replay. Did she seem so desperate?

      Rhiannon’s nerves were splintered, her emotions in tatters.

      None of this was supposed to happen.

      ‘Well, thank you,’ she finally said, her voice strained and low, ‘for that courtesy.’ And without another word, not trusting herself to speak or meet his frowning gaze, she slipped through the door.

      She heard him leave the suite from the safety of the locked bathroom. She sat on the edge of the bathtub, her fists in her hair, her lips still burning from his kisses.

      Perhaps it was a moment of comfort we both needed.

      Damned by compassion. Pity. No doubt his misguided sense of responsibility striking once again. He’d been trying to comfort her.

      She didn’t want comfort.

      She wanted love.

      She wanted it for herself, wanted it for Annabel.

      She felt a terrible, hollow certainty that she wouldn’t find it here.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      ‘WE NEED to leave. Now.’

      Rhiannon sat up in bed, blinking sleep from her eyes, clutching the covers to her chest. Annabel was still asleep, and Lukas stood in the doorway of her suite, fully dressed, his lithe body coiled and tense.

      ‘What are you talking about?’

      ‘What I’m talking about,’ he bit out, ‘is the press in front of this resort—thanks to the little stunt you pulled yesterday at the reception.’ He pulled a rolled-up newspaper from his pocket and threw it on the bed.

      Rhiannon unfurled it with shaking fingers and a leaden heart.

      Secret Playboy? Lukas Petrakides Discovers his Love-child. Furious Mother Booted Out of Newest Resort! the headline screamed. There was even a picture—a grainy shot from a telephoto lens—of the two of them on the beach. The paparazzi photographer had clearly waited for his moment, Rhiannon realised with a sinking feeling. It was towards the end of their conversation yesterday afternoon, when they had clearly been in an argument.

      Thank God they hadn’t got a photo of their kiss last night. Just the memory caused a flush to crawl up her throat.

      She looked up, met Lukas’s blazing eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’

      ‘We can discuss this later,’ he informed her tersely. ‘Right now we need to leave. I have a private jet departing in twenty minutes for Greece. You and Annabel will be on it.’

      ‘Greece?’ Rhiannon repeated stupidly, and he slashed a hand through the air.

      ‘Yes—to safety! You can’t stay here now the press have wind of this story. Once they know we’ve gone, they’ll give up the chase. For the moment. I don’t want the press hounding the resort’s guests, and I don’t want them finding you or Annabel. The last thing I need is more sordid details.’

      That was what she was, Rhiannon thought. A sordid detail. She opened her mouth to reply, but Lukas cut her off before she could frame a syllable.

      ‘Get dressed. I’ll wait outside the door.’

      He flung open the door just as Annabel let out her good-morning howl of hunger.

      Rhiannon scooped her up, prepared a bottle with clumsy fingers and a whirling mind. She dressed herself quickly, then found something for Annabel to wear, threw some nappies and the prepared bottle in a bag, and stepped outside.

      ‘I’m ready.’

      ‘Good.’ Lukas had been leaning against the wall, arms folded, but now he pushed off and stood back to sweep her with an assessing gaze.

      Rhiannon was conscious of her faded jeans and worn tee-shirt. Annabel had already dribbled on her shoulder. Lukas’s mouth tightened as he looked at her, whether in disapproval or displeasure Rhiannon didn’t know, but she forced herself not to care.

      ‘Someone will bring your bags to the jet. Let’s go,’ he said, and as he strode quickly down the corridor she had no choice but to follow, Annabel screeching in protest.

      Lukas sat back in the plane seat and rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve the stabbing tension which had lodged there since he’d seen those damn newspapers this morning.

      He knew the news would be all over France, all over Greece, all over the world. His father would have seen it this morning. He would be furious.

      Lukas had failed him, failed the family, by allowing such lies to be smeared across papers and television screens.

      Yet Lukas dismissed the thought of his father in contemplation of the woman shrouded in misery opposite him. Rhiannon sat with Annabel on her lap, her face averted towards the window.

      Lukas felt an unwelcome twinge of unease. He no longer believed Rhiannon was a blackmailer, yet he still didn’t trust her. He couldn’t trust a woman who was willing to give up a child entrusted into her care, no matter what excuse she gave … or what she had convinced herself to believe.

      He suspected she’d persuaded herself it was for the best, that she was acting nobly, yet he saw the truth in her hunched position, in the awkward way she held the baby.

      She wasn’t used to children, he thought. She probably lived in a chic little flat that wasn’t equipped for infants. No doubt she was eager to get back to her life … her lover. The thought made his expression harden in distaste … and in remembrance.

      It doesn’t matter to me. Take him.

      He shook his head, banishing the memory, the mocking voice.

      This was a different situation, a different woman … even if some aspects seemed the same.

      His thoughts shifted to the baby in Rhiannon’s arms. Her dark, curly hair and soulful eyes reminded him of photographs of himself as a baby. She had the look of a Petrakides. If Annabel was indeed Christos’s daughter, which to Lukas now seemed a near certainty, there could be no question of her future. It would be in Greece, with the СКАЧАТЬ