His Love-Child: The Greek Tycoon's Love-Child / The Spaniard's Love-Child / The Millionaire's Love-Child. JACQUELINE BAIRD
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she said, her own temper rising. ‘Seven months pregnant, I boarded the train for London with the address of your London office in my pocket. In the magazine I bought to read on the journey were the pictures of your wedding to Dianne. I got off at the next stop and went home. Is that good enough for you?’ She wanted the swine to feel guilty; it was the only way she could lash out at him. He had blocked all her other avenues of escape. ‘Or maybe I should have followed you on your honeymoon,’ she gibed.
For an interminable moment Theo just stood there regarding her in total silence, his face an inscrutable mask. ‘No, and I am sorry you had to find out that way,’ he finally said quietly. ‘Obviously talking about the past is a futile exercise. It is the future we have to look forward to.’ With a quick dip of his dark head, his mouth covered hers and he kissed her. She couldn’t believe it, but a long moment later when he raised his head and allowed her to breathe again she was too shaken to care.
How did he do that? she asked herself again. He managed to reduce her to a quivering mass of jelly with one kiss. And in the middle of the day on a crowded pavement where the world and his wife could watch, she realised with dawning embarrassment. Lifting her eyes, she stared up into his darkly handsome face. ‘What was that for?’ she asked dazedly.
‘To shut you up,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘You infuriating madam. I have not argued in the street since I was a schoolboy, and I’ve had enough guilt for one day. I am declaring a truce.’ And tucking her arm in his, he set off along the street.
Five minutes later, when Theo stopped outside a very elegant black door with the name in gold lettering, she pulled her hand from his arm. ‘Oh, no! Not more shopping.’
He slid an arm around her shoulder and a slow smile curved his wide, sensual mouth as she looked stubbornly up at him. ‘Humour me, Willow. Last stop, I promise, and then we can meet the others for lunch.’
A moment later as Theo ushered her through the door, and into the shop, it was with a grim lack of humour that she looked around and saw it was a jeweller’s.
‘As my fiancée you must wear my ring.’ She opened her mouth to object but he pressed a finger over her lips. ‘And don’t argue—truce, remember?’
So far he had got all his own way. His finger was still on her mouth and, unless she could get over this terrible disability of losing her mind whenever he touched her, he was likely to continue doing so.
But she got her revenge when it came to choosing the ring. Forced into agreeing to marry him, and still smarting from his crack about her dress sense, she picked the biggest platinum-mounted solitaire blue diamond the jeweller could provide. To add to the ostentatious engagement ring she chose an equally ostentatious diamond-studded platinum wedding band.
Theo gave her a curious look. ‘Are you sure they are what you want?’
‘Certainly.’ She tilted her head to look up at him, a patently false smile twisting her luscious lips. ‘As the wife of a filthy rich man, you said I have to look the part. And I just love them,’ she gushed, ‘darling.’ She thought he would be furious but to her astonishment his lips curved in an achingly familiar crooked smile.
‘Touché, darling,’ he drawled with rueful amusement, and bought the rings.
Two days later Stephen sat on her bed and watched her dress. ‘I wish I was going to the party.’
‘When you are a bit older, but tonight you have to be a good boy for Marta and do as she says. Right?’
‘Right,’ he agreed.
Willow grinned down at her son. ‘Well, what do you think, Stephen? Will I do?’ And with a shaky hand she smoothed down the strapless, long slim-fitting sheath of wild blue silk she had chosen from the clothes Theo had insisted on buying for her. She had pinned her long black hair on top of her head, and the severity of the style emphasised the perfect outline of her face and the white swan-like elegance of her neck. Her make-up was light as usual: moisturiser, lip gloss and a touch of mascara. On her feet she wore high-heeled sandals that matched the dress perfectly. She had painted her nails a light pink and she had never felt so dressed up in her life, or so nervous.
‘You look beautiful, Mum.’
‘And I second that,’ Theo said.
She hadn’t heard him enter, and she lifted anxious dark eyes to his. The full impact of him attired in sophisticated dinner clothes sent every one of her senses haywire.
His hooded gaze roamed over her with studied masculine appraisal, and the eyes he lifted to hers were glittering with a hot possessiveness that she could not fail to recognise. It hit her with the force of a lightning bolt. She had agreed to marry this man, and tonight was their engagement party. She must be crazy, and as he walked towards her she felt panic rising inside her. ‘Is it time to go?’
His firm lips curved in a slow, sexy smile. ‘Some might say well past time, given we have a son,’ he drawled, and took her trembling hand in his. Turning to Stephen, he added, ‘Run along to your room. Marta is waiting, and she has a surprise for you.’
Stephen held his little face up for Willow’s goodnight kiss with some impatience and then darted from the room.
‘Ready?’ Theo looked down into her blue eyes, and she nodded, too nervous to speak.
The party had been Judy’s idea, and she had made no secret of the fact that she had an eight-year-old grandson called Stephanos. Her joy was unrestrained. But as Willow stood by Theo’s side to greet the guests she could almost feel the shock waves when he introduced her as his fiancée. She twisted the huge diamond ring nervously around her finger, and wished she had never chosen it. Her joke had spectacularly backfired, as guest after female guest demanded to see it, and was apparently awed by its magnificence, but she could sense their insincerity.
She told herself she didn’t care about other people’s reaction, but it was hard when she had to suffer a few barbed comments about how wonderful it must be for her and her son to find Theo again, and how they would now never have to want for anything. They might as well have come out and said ‘gold-digger’. The huge diamond ring did not help her cause one bit.
‘Nice friends you have,’ she murmured with a sarcastic lift of one finely arched brow in Theo’s direction. ‘But if you will excuse me I think I need a drink.’
He shrugged lightly, emphasising the width of his broad shoulders underneath the elegant dinner suit. ‘What did you expect?’ he said with a cynical curve to his expressive mouth. ‘Introducing a fiancée and a son in one evening was bound to cause gossip, and whose fault is that?’ There was something in his voice that sent a sudden unease sliding through her. ‘You surely didn’t expect me to hide you both away, darling. That was always your solution, but not mine, I will not allow it.’
Sliding a casual arm around her waist, he pulled her into his side. ‘Don’t look so tense; you’re an incredibly beautiful woman.’ He scanned her exquisite features with glittering dark eyes. ‘More so than any woman here. Relax and enjoy the party.’ And he lifted her hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss against her knuckles. His dark gaze held hers with a compelling intensity. ‘As for the ring, the jeweller informed me when I paid for it that I was an extremely lucky man. You are one of the few women in the world with hands elegant enough and fingers long enough to wear it. These women here tonight are just green with envy, believe me.’ Strangely she did as he added, ‘Fortunately our marriage will be a nine-day wonder, if that, and then you and I can get on with our lives… together.’
Theo complimenting her, and reassuring her—that had to be a first. There was something in his tone that made her pulse race, and yet his arm around her waist gave her the oddest feeling of being protected and at peace with the world. It was a lethal combination and it worried her slightly. Swiftly lowering her gaze, she freed her hand from his, frightened that he would notice, and tried to slip from his restraining arm.
‘Wowee, Theo! No wonder you want to hang onto her,’ a deeply accented male voice said with a laugh,