The Greek's Surprise Christmas Bride. LYNNE GRAHAM
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some time in the next ten years. I don’t want to leave it too long and risk missing my chance to become a mother.’
Leo frowned, level black brows pleating. ‘So, we use a laboratory and give you what you want when you want. I don’t see a problem.’
Letty noted that he wasn’t suggesting that they consider sex for her to conceive, not that she would’ve agreed to that while he was sleeping with other women, but it really bothered her to recognise the faint sense of disappointment rising inside her. Disappointment allied with curiosity, she acknowledged ruefully. He made her curious in a treacherous way. Letty was not in the habit of looking at a man and thinking of sex but Leo made her think of sex, wonder what it would be like, wonder what it would be like with him. And in that thought progression lay one very good reason why she shouldn’t marry Leo Romanos.
Her breasts were peaking inside her bra, her thighs pressing together in reaction to the dull ache that was infiltrating her. She couldn’t possibly marry a man who awakened her long dormant sensuality but who planned to break his marital vows on a weekly basis, for all she knew even on a daily basis. It would be a recipe for low self-esteem and unhappiness because she would feel rejected.
‘That’s two stumbling blocks dealt with,’ Leo proclaimed briskly. ‘What are the other two?’
‘As soon as possible I would like to return to studying medicine,’ Letty admitted.
‘Why not? When I told you that I wanted a wife to be a mother to my sister’s children, I didn’t mean to suggest that I expected you to become a stay-at-home wife. I employ an ample staff to take care of the children on a day-to-day basis. You would be free to return to your studies,’ he assured her levelly. ‘I am not an unreasonable man, Juliet.’
‘Don’t call me that… I’ve always been Letty.’
‘I don’t like the name,’ Leo declared calmly. ‘To me, you will always be Juliet and I don’t know how it ever got shortened into something as ugly as Letty.’
‘My mother called my father, Julian, Jules and, although she named me for him, she could never stand to call me Juliet because it made her think of him. That’s how I became Letty.’
‘But you’re not a Letty, you’re a Juliet,’ Leo told her stubbornly.
Letty shrugged a shoulder in dismissal. She had no intention of changing her name back to please him. Having drunk her tea, she set the cup back tidily on the cabinet top. ‘I have to get back to work.’
‘You still haven’t told me the fourth stumbling block,’ Leo protested, dark glittering eyes full of frustration pinned to her.
‘My sex life,’ Letty said bluntly, abhorring the heat she could feel warming her cheeks.
‘Your…sex life?’ Leo demanded as if those two words were an incompatible combination. ‘You won’t have one, unless it’s with me.’
In the act of climbing out of the car, Letty came to a sudden halt and scornful green eyes slammed back into his. ‘That won’t be happening as long as you have other interests in your life,’ she assured him tartly. ‘And while I’m not currently in a hurry to have a sex life, I imagine the time will come when I feel differently.’
Leo was transfixed. It was a major obstacle and he hadn’t foreseen it. In fact, he had been so wrapped up in his own selfish desire to maintain his usual lifestyle and boundaries that he had utterly ignored the obvious. Obviously, Juliet would have the same needs as he did. He wasn’t one of those outdated men who believed that women had a smaller appetite for the physical pleasures of life. But the thought of his wife getting into bed with another man, the thought of another man touching and enjoying what Leo instinctively saw as his property alone, genuinely appalled him. He paled below his bronzed skin. It was hypocrisy, complete hypocrisy, and he knew it and sealed his wide sensual mouth closed before he said something he knew he should not say. That feat of control established, he breathed again.
‘We’ll discuss that on Saturday,’ Leo informed her with finality, knowing he had less than forty-eight hours in which to come up with a miraculous alternative that would prevent her from seeking sexual satisfaction outside their marriage.
‘I thought you might say that,’ Letty confided, a wry little smile curving her generous mouth. ‘I can’t believe you didn’t think of that angle.’
And with that final mocking little sally, Letty walked back into the nursing home, her head held high while Leo tried to work out how the hell she had contrived to become the very first woman to turn the tables on him.
ON THE SATURDAY MORNING, Leo travelled up in the smelly lift of the tower block. It was not a salubrious experience but meeting his future bride’s family as soon as possible was essential to the smooth running of his plans. He had dressed down for the occasion in jeans, deeming that appropriate attire for informal weekend wear and children, even though he rarely wore casual clothing.
Letty was stunned when the knock on the door disclosed Leo himself because she had been expecting his chauffeur or one of the bodyguards she had seen hovering at a discreet distance in the care home car park to come upstairs and collect her. And there he stood, all sleek and dark and sophisticated in a cashmere sweater in a soft oatmeal shade that accentuated his bronzed skin tone, designer jeans outlining his long powerful legs and narrow hips, teamed with the less subtle hint of a slim eye-wateringly expensive watch at a masculine wrist which suggested that he came from a class of society far removed from her own.
‘Leo!’ she heard herself say abruptly, taut with disconcertion and discomfiture at being faced with him sooner than she had expected.
‘I believe it’s time that I met your family,’ Leo told her smoothly.
Letty froze, further taken aback, faint colour running up into her cheeks. ‘Er… I…’
‘Not something we can avoid,’ Leo declared, cool and outrageously serene at the prospect.
It made Letty wonder what it took to unnerve Leo Romanos and once she found out she knew she would use it against him in punishment.
And little more than two minutes later he was dominating their tiny living room with his broad-shouldered height and positive buckets of charm. He accepted a cup of black coffee and engaged her mother in conversation. He came up with an entirely fictitious old lady whom he supposedly visited at the care home from time to time, a former employee of his father’s who had been kind to him as a boy.
‘Letty… I thought you said that Leo was related to…’
‘Your daughter and I kept on bumping into each other in the corridor late at night. She doesn’t always listen well,’ Leo proclaimed forgivingly.
Dear heaven, he could act, and he lied like a trooper without a soupçon of evasiveness or unease, Letty registered in consternation, seeing that she would have to sharpen her skills to have any hope of ever outwitting Leo. And that quickly she appreciated that she was already thinking as though she was planning to marry him and that shook her because so many of her misgivings had still to be settled and she wasn’t a woman who acted on impulse.
It had been years since she had seen her mother smile so much and he’d even coaxed some attention out of her brothers by showing them a nifty trick with the video game they were engaged in continuing to play in spite of their mother’s strictures.
Leo perused his bride-to-be in the lift. She was the right type: he could feel it in his bones even though she was not at all the kind of wife he had once dimly envisaged. Clad only in worn jeans and a black roll-neck sweater, she still somehow contrived to hold his attention. Her hair was braided at the front and long and loose at the back, tiny tendrils curling round her classic oval face, those wide sea-green eyes welded warily to him. There was no flesh on show and he wasn’t used