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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is how I remember you,’ Theo grated, his other hand cupping her breast. His long fingers trailed over the already taut nipple and a devilish gleam of pure male triumph shone in his dark eyes.
‘Helplessly aroused and aching.’ His fingers plucked at the swollen peak of her breast, sending shafts of sensation from her breast to the apex of her thighs. His night-black eyes blazed triumphantly over her slender milk-white body that arched provocatively over his strong arm. ‘Dear God! My memory does not do you justice, Willow. You are more incredibly beautiful than in my wildest dreams, or, I should say, nightmares,’ he grated with a trace of bitterness in his tone.
If he had not been holding her she would have collapsed in a puddle at his feet, her body shuddering in an overload of sensation. When he lifted his gaze to hers she saw the savage desire and hunger that he made no attempt to disguise and her heart threatened to burst from her chest.
She tried to speak, but his dark head descended again and brushed surprisingly gently over her softly parted lips. ‘I need to taste you again.’ he husked. ‘Make sure you’re real.’
His lips skimmed her throat to fasten hungrily over the rosy peak of one breast. She drew in a sharp, agonised breath, and her hand gripped his shoulder, the other slipping beneath his shirt, trailing over his hot, smooth skin. She felt his reaction in the tiny imperceptible jerk, and then suddenly he was lifting her and pressing her down on the sofa they had just vacated.
‘You want me too, Willow.’ He stared down at her as he straightened and swiftly shrugged off his shirt.
Her eyes widened on seeing his broad, tanned chest and the dusting of curling black body hair. She ached to touch him, her mouth opened to agree, when Theo broke into the magic world of her senses by speaking again.
‘Say it, Willow. I need to hear you say it after our last disastrous one-night stand.’
Her blue eyes focussed on his taut, handsome face and she saw the barely leashed passion in the depths of his hooded eyes. But it was the almost grim smile on his hard mouth that brought sanity to her dazed mind, and squashed the incessant clamouring of her sex-starved body. Disastrous one-night stand. The words echoed in her head. Suddenly she was scrabbling to sit up and fasten her bra, dragging her dress up over her shoulders.
Fool… idiot… she castigated herself. What on earth had possessed her? Shame and humiliation flooded through her. Willow went from being flushed with passion to being scarlet-faced with embarrassment. Leaping to her feet, she struggled to zip her dress back up, but her long silken hair got in her way.
‘Willow.’ A large hand reached for her, and she jumped back.
‘No, don’t touch me,’ she cried, horrified at how easily she had succumbed to his vibrant sophisticated masculine expertise all over again.
‘I take it you have changed your mind.’ Theo’s mocking voice grated over her raw nerves. ‘You need to watch that, Willow. Not every man has my self-control,’ he drawled cynically. Before she could stop him he spun her around and, lifting the heavy mass of her hair, he zipped up her dress. ‘There.’ He spun her back to face him, and she cringed, frightened by the grim fury in his black eyes. She knew what she had done was unforgivable. She had led him on and she could not deny it.
‘Don’t look so terrified,’ Theo drawled, almost lazily sweeping the silken tendrils of her hair behind her ears, his hands settling again on her shoulders. ‘I have never yet had to force a woman into my bed, and I have no intention of starting with you.’
‘Then let go of me,’ she said shakily. Willow realised that it would take very little persuasion on Theo’s part to have her senseless in his arms again. Her tongue flicked out to moisten her too-dry lips, and she saw the glint in his night-black eyes as he registered her betraying movement.
‘Are you really sure, Willow?’ he tempted her. ‘It is a woman’s prerogative to change her mind, and that works both ways,’ he opined huskily. His heavy-lidded eyes captured hers, and, mesmerised by the sensual promise in the black depths, she simply stared. ‘Perhaps the time wasn’t right when we first met. But now we are both mature adults, free agents, we won’t be harming anyone if we get together again, and I promise you will enjoy the experience.’
His voice was deep and dark, the words rolling off his tongue like melting black chocolate, tempting and almost irresistible. And then he smiled, a slightly crooked twist to his firm lips.
Only one other person she knew smiled like that, especially when he wanted something from her. ‘No… no…’ She jerked free from his hold. ‘No.’
‘All right.’ Theo shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘One “ no” will suffice. You said you were tired and I believe you.’
‘You do?’ she asked stupidly, too dazed to register the cynicism in his tone. She was amazed he was being so reasonable. She knew he was thoroughly aroused and could only marvel at his self-control.
‘Yes, but I insist that you join me for breakfast in the morning. What time are you leaving?’
‘Well, my train is at ten so I suppose I will leave about nine.’ She was too surprised by his reaction to lie.
‘Good, then I will meet you in the restaurant downstairs at eight and we can talk then.’ Tilting her chin with one long finger, he said, ‘Unless you would prefer your breakfast in bed.’ Willow gasped and Theo grinned. ‘Only teasing. I rushed you last time, and I have no intention of making the same mistake again. I will see you downstairs tomorrow at eight,’ and he planted a swift kiss on the top of her head.
CHAPTER FOUR
WILLOW lay on her back in the king-sized bed and longed for sleep. It had been an hour since she had left Theo’s suite, embarrassed and, if she was honest, burning with frustration. She was still burning; she could still feel the touch of his mouth on hers, could still taste him on her tongue and could still feel the need clawing in her belly. No other man had ever made her feel like this. She had only ever dated a couple of people during the past few years. The latest was a perfectly pleasant man called Dave, who was a GP. They were close but their relationship had not even progressed past a kiss. So why, oh, why was she such a pushover for a man like Theo?
It was so unfair and so unexpected, moisture glazed her eyes. What should have been one of the most triumphant days of her life had ended in disaster, and a solitary tear flowed down her cheek. Until yesterday she would have sworn Theo Kadros meant less than nothing to her. For the past nine years she had lived with the conviction he was beneath contempt. She still thought that, but somehow after meeting Theo again today, talking to him, it was making her question her own behaviour.
A deep sigh escaped her… If he ever found out she had given birth to his child, his son, and never told him… she didn’t dare think what he might do to her. Yet it had seemed the right thing to do, the only thing to do at the time.
Closing her eyes, she let the memories flood back of her arrival in India and the last few precious months she had spent with her mother.
It had never really entered her head that she might be pregnant because Theo had used condoms. She had thought that his mention at the airport of the possibility she might become pregnant had just been a ruse to keep in touch. She had been furious with him, and ashamed of herself, and still young enough to see everything in black and white with no grey area in between. In her mind he was a womanising swine that would quite happily take any girl to bed. His suggestion they spend the weekend together had simply been a ploy to send her back to her own room. She had convinced herself he probably had girlfriends dotted all around the world that his poor innocent fiancée knew nothing about, and he had simply wanted to add Willow to his list.
She had been accepted at Oxford to read English in September, and she’d been determined to put Theo Kadros out of her mind, and enjoy her holiday in India with her mother. She had realised she had made a disastrous mistake succumbing to the sexual overtures of a sophisticated, experienced man, and had mistaken lust for love. She had put it down to experience; determined to learn