Modern Romance November 2019 Books 1-4. Эбби Грин

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СКАЧАТЬ about that,’ he said, a little impatiently. ‘We were both working at the same office in Hong Kong and one night I decided to ask her out for dinner.’

      ‘Because you fancied her?’

      Drakon frowned. She might have been a virgin until very recently, but surely she wasn’t that naïve? Because Lucy was practical. A practical and realistic woman who’d experienced her own share of bad stuff. Surely one thing which could come out of this unplanned marriage was the ability to be completely honest with her, because wasn’t honesty the quality he valued above all else?

      ‘Who wouldn’t fancy her?’ he questioned, barely registering the way she flinched, because by then his jaw had tightened with the memory of those turbulent days. ‘I was in a bad place,’ he admitted. ‘My father’s will had just been read to reveal that he’d basically blown the entire Konstantinou fortune during his lifetime. And my brother had gone ballistic when he’d discovered there was nothing left for him to inherit.’

      ‘And you must have been disappointed to discover that you’d lost your own expected share of the family fortune?’ she suggested.

      He shook his head. ‘That would never have been the case. The laws of primogeniture meant that, as the eldest son, Niko would have inherited everything.’

      ‘And you never minded that?’

      ‘Of course I minded! I’m not some sort of saint, Lucy.’ His mouth twisted into a hard smile. ‘But I’d resigned myself to my fate a long time earlier. And underneath it all, I discovered I was less like my father and more like my grandfather, who had worked his way up from the bottom to the very top. I knew I could make my own way in the world and that’s exactly what I was doing. I’d been to university and got myself a decent degree and was a petrochemical engineer, working for a big company in the Far East.’

      ‘But employees of big companies don’t tend to make billions of dollars,’ observed Lucy slowly. ‘They don’t own private jets or private islands or spend hundreds of thousands of pounds on last-minute weddings in luxury hotels.’

      ‘No, they don’t. And that’s where Amy came in.’ Drakon’s voice became thoughtful. ‘She was a geologist—the best geologist I’ve ever come across. After she’d explained she wasn’t interested in me romantically, she told me that she’d seen the potential for oil on one of the Indonesian islands, but didn’t have the wherewithal to explore it. And that’s where I came in.’ He paused. ‘I believed in her passion and enthusiasm and my gut feeling told me she was onto something big. I’d just received a huge bonus from the company but I was growing bored and frustrated with working for someone else. I told Amy I was prepared to back her hunch but that we needed to really go for it. So we chartered a small company to do the drilling for us, and within six months we’d struck oil.’ He took another sip of champagne and sighed. ‘Best feeling in the world,’ he reflected.

      ‘I’m sure it was,’ she said woodenly.

      He turned to look at her. The rosy flush which had made her skin glow after a rapid succession of orgasms might never have happened, for her face was as pale as it had been just before she’d taken her wedding vows. He felt a flicker of irritation, because surely irrational mood swings had no place in what they had both agreed was to be a purely functional marriage. ‘Is something wrong?’ he questioned coolly.

      Lucy wanted to jump up from the bed and rail at him for his insensitivity. To tell him that yes, of course there was something wrong. It was the first night of their honeymoon and not only had he confided that discovering oil was better than having sex with his new bride—he’d also confessed that the gorgeous Amy had once turned him down!

      But one thing puzzled her more than her very natural feminine outrage at his reaction. Because Drakon was a determined and charismatic man who attracted women like ants to honey. Who was to say that Amy mightn’t have lived to regret her impetuosity in refusing a relationship with someone like him—especially once he had decided to adopt Xander?

      ‘So when Xander was orphaned, you weren’t at all tempted to ask Amy to marry you, just in case she’d changed her mind?’ she questioned slowly. ‘Seeing as how you know each other so well and clearly get on.’

      He narrowed his eyes and seemed to be running something over in his mind because it took a moment or two before he answered. ‘That was never going to be on the cards, because I needed not just a mother, but a wife in the fullest sense of the word.’ There was another pause. ‘Amy’s gay, Lucy,’ he said eventually. ‘She explained that at the time. She just hadn’t come out to her family about it yet. She still hasn’t. Like I said, you were my first choice. My only choice, really.’

      Lucy supposed he must be paying her a compliment but somehow it didn’t feel like one. Somehow it felt like being second-best and that wasn’t such a great way to start married life. She turned to pick up her champagne glass but the fizzing bubbles only seemed to emphasise the flatness of her mood, when she realised that Drakon was sitting up in bed and pointing out of the enormous picture windows opposite.

      ‘Will you take a look at that?’ he exclaimed softly, his Greek accent velvety and pronounced.

      She turned to follow the direction of his gaze, where the dazzle of the city was just visible through the bare branches of the trees—but that wasn’t what had caught the tycoon’s attention. It was the giant snowflakes which were tumbling from the sky like acrobats, turning golden in the bright light which streamed from the hotel windows.

      ‘It’s snowing,’ said Lucy dutifully, trying to replicate his wonder since she supposed it was rare to see snow in Greece. But the irony of this final fairy-tale aspect to her Christmas wedding didn’t escape her.

      She was lying in a rumpled bed, having had mind-blowing sex with her stunning bridegroom, while outside the world was magically turning white. It was like something out of a movie.

      But just like a movie—none of it was real.

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      THE PRESS WERE out in force next morning when the newly-weds left the Granchester Hotel in a flurry of flashbulbs. Drakon’s hand was pressed lightly against Lucy’s back as he guided her through the scrum of photographers and she looked up at him in gratitude just as the flash went off. And that was the photo which made the online edition of Britain’s biggest tabloid. Lucy Konstantinou, standing by the giant hotel Christmas tree with shining eyes and snowflakes on her nose, while Drakon looked down at her with something indeterminate written on his hard and handsome face.

      On the way to the airfield Lucy insisted on stopping by the apartment to check on Xander, but the baby was fast asleep and Sofia was assembling a new interactive baby mat with bells and squeaky cushions, for when he awoke. The nanny had looked up when they’d walked in, a question creasing her eyes, as if surprised to see them. Almost as if this unscheduled stop was as unwelcome to her as it had been to Drakon.

      ‘Satisfied?’ her new husband had demanded as the limousine had pulled away from the kerb and Lucy had nodded before staring out of the window at the falling snow, feeling kind of extraneous. Not a real wife, nor a real mother either, it seemed.

      There were photos of them boarding the plane at Northolt, where the fields surrounding the airstrip were soft and white and more clouds of snowflakes swirled from the sky. There was even a shot from inside the wedding reception—though it was a mystery who СКАЧАТЬ