The Mills & Boon Christmas Wishes Collection. Maisey Yates
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‘Maybe I’ll suggest an early night.’ Holly remained anchored two steps up so that she was almost level with him.
Vito took the invitation, leaning down to claim that lush pink mouth that he still fantasised about and curving his hands to the swell of her hips to lift her up into his arms. Her hands locked round his neck with satisfying possessiveness and held him fast. He could feel the slight bump of the baby she was carrying against his stomach and he smiled as he lifted his head again.
‘I love you,’ he groaned.
‘Love you madly.’ Holly felt ridiculously intoxicated and happy. One kiss from Vito could do that, two were irresistible, and three would only end with her dragging him up the stairs. Evidently falling pregnant sooner than they had expected had done nothing to cool her husband’s desire for her and that truly did make her feel as alluring as some legendary temptress. That was very welcome to a woman who was five months pregnant and subject to all the usual aches and complaints of her condition.
Her redecoration schemes at the castello had led to an approach from an exclusive interiors magazine, which had taken a whole host of photos. The glossy photo spread and the accompanying article had ensured that within days of the magazine going on sale, Holly was inundated with exciting offers of design work.
This, however, was their first family Christmas and she was revelling in every detail because Vito had really thrown himself into the spirit of the holidays and she didn’t think it was solely because he had become a father. She reckoned he had put his sour childhood memories of Christmas behind him. His mother, recently divorced, was joining their festivities and hugely excited about the second grandchild on the way.
‘Please tell me turkey isn’t on the menu again tonight,’ Vito murmured.
‘No, we’re having steak. I told Francisco I fancied steak,’ she admitted.
‘When are our guests arriving?’ Vito prompted.
‘Well, they were supposed to be here for dinner but Apollo’s social secretary rang to say they would be late. Why does he need a social secretary?’
‘He’s always got hundreds of invitations and he’s never at home.’ Vito paused. ‘I appreciate you being willing to give him another chance.’
Holly gave him a soothing smile that concealed her tension. It was past time to forgive and forget—she knew that. After all, Apollo was Vito’s closest friend, but Holly had only seen him twice since their wedding. And when she had made the mistake of voicing her opinion on what he considered to be his private business it had been awkward as hell. But she was madly curious to see who he was bringing with him as a guest. Another leggy underwear model? Or his wife?
That, Holly supposed, would be another story...
* * * * *
Lynne Graham
A good Greek wife…
Coldly ruthless and deeply cynical, Apollo Metraxis has made a career of bachelorhood. But when the inheritance of his father’s estate is conditional on a marriage and a child, he is forced to do the unthinkable!
Unpolished Pixie Robinson is the world’s worst choice of a wife for Apollo. Yet her family’s mounting debts leave her defenseless and therefore uniquely suitable. But when the wedding night exposes Pixie’s untouched vulnerability, striking a chord in the dark reaches of his heart, Apollo is forced to think again.
And that’s before he discovers that she’s carrying not one but two Metraxis heirs!
I do enjoy an alpha male, but none of them are a match for my husband. This one is for you
THE MALE VOICES drifted in from the balcony while Holly hovered, waiting uneasily for the right moment to join the conversation. That was a challenge when she knew she was never particularly welcome in Apollo’s radius.
But there wasn’t much she could do about that when she was married to Vito, Apollo’s best friend. Only recently had she come to appreciate just how close the two men were and how often they talked no matter where they were in the world. Friends from a childhood spent at boarding school, they were as close as brothers and Apollo had distrusted Holly from the outset because she was a poor woman marrying a very rich man. Aware of that fact, she had offered to stay home instead of attending the funeral of Apollo’s father but Vito had been shocked at that suggestion.
So far, their visit to the privately owned island of Nexos and the Metraxis compound had been anything but pleasant. The funeral had been massive. Every one of Apollo’s former stepmothers and their children had attended. Earlier today the reading of the will had taken place and Apollo had stormed out in a passion, having learned that he needed a wife to inherit the vast empire he had been running for several years on his ailing father’s behalf. Vito had shared only that bare detail with his wife, clearly uncomfortable at divulging even that much. But as virtually anybody who knew Apollo also knew of his aversion to matrimony, it was obvious that his father’s last will and testament had put him between a rock and a hard place.
‘So, you pick one of your women and marry her,’ Vito breathed, sounding not at all like the loving husband Holly knew and adored. ‘Dio mio, there’s a long enough list. You marry her, stay married as long as you can bear it, and—’
‘And how am I going to get rid of her again?’ Apollo growled. ‘Women cling to me like superglue. How am I going to trust her to keep her mouth shut? If word escapes that it’s a fake marriage, the stepfamilies will go to court and try and take my inheritance off me. If you tell a woman you don’t want her, she’s insulted and she wants revenge.’
‘That’s why you need to hire a wife as if you’re interviewing one for a job. You need a woman with no personal axe to grind. Considering your popularity with the opposite sex and your bad reputation, finding her could be a challenge.’
Reckoning that it was now or never, Holly stepped out onto the terrace. ‘Hiring a wife sounds like the best idea,’ she opined nervously.
Even sheathed in an elegant dark suit, Apollo Metraxis looked every inch the bad boy he was. With shoulder-length black hair, startling green eyes and an elaborate dragon tattoo peeping out of a white shirt cuff, Apollo was volatile, unconventional and arrogant, the direct opposite of Holly’s conservative husband.
‘I don’t believe you were invited to join this conversation,’ Apollo countered very drily.
‘Three heads are better than two,’ Holly parried, forcing herself down stiffly into a seat.
Apollo elevated a sardonic brow. ‘You think so?’
Holly refused to be excluded. ‘Stop dramatising yourself—’
‘Holly!’ Vito interrupted sharply.
‘Well, Apollo can’t help himself. He’s always doing it,’ Holly argued. ‘Not every woman is going to cling to you like superglue!’
‘Name me one who won’t,’ Apollo invited.
Holly blinked and thought very hard because Apollo was universally acknowledged to be a gorgeous, super-wealthy stud and nine out of ten women followed him round a room with hungry eyes. ‘Well, my friend Pixie for a start,’ she pronounced with satisfaction. ‘She can’t stand you and if she can’t, there’s got to be others.’
A very faint flush accentuated Apollo’s supermodel cheekbones.
‘Pixie wouldn’t quite meet the parameters of what is required,’ Vito interposed hastily, meeting his friend’s