Greek Affairs: Tempted by the Tycoons: The Greek Tycoon's Convenient Bride / The Greek Tycoon's Unexpected Wife / The Greek Tycoon's Secret Heir. Кейт Хьюит
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I. Yet she couldn’t quite say it.
Lukas must have sensed her unspoken permission, or perhaps he didn’t require it, for he touched his lips to hers once—a brush, a flicker, a promise.
Then the promise deepened into a certainty as his tongue plundered her mouth, took possession of her soul. Rhiannon’s fingers bunched on his shoulders, clawed for purchase, for sanity.
Somehow she had slipped out of her chair, was kneeling on the hard tiled floor between Lukas’s powerful thighs. She could feel his arousal against her heart.
His mouth continued to cover hers, plunging, plundering. Taking everything. His hands fisted in her hair, drawing her closer, binding her to him.
The kiss went on endlessly. She’d never felt so treasured, so desired, so needed.
So loved.
The thought was a cold slap of reality, a mocking laugh in the stillness of their entwined bodies.
There was no love involved here. She barely knew this man. All he felt for her was contempt, suspicion. She wanted him—oh, yes—and he wanted her.
But that was all.
Sex.
She pulled away, wincing as her hair tangled around Lukas’s fingers. He was completely still, his hand still snarled in her hair, staring at her as if she were a stranger—as if he were a stranger to himself.
His breathing was ragged, uneven, and so was hers.
‘I’m sorry.’ He looked appalled, angry. Yet Rhiannon had a feeling that anger was not directed at her. Carefully he unwound the strands of hair from his fingers, smoothed the curls back from her fevered brow. ‘That shouldn’t have happened.’
‘No,’ Rhiannon agreed shakily, although the sense of loss she felt would have sent her to her knees if she hadn’t already been there.
Lukas helped her back into her chair. ‘Clearly I’ve been without a woman for too long,’ he said with a cool smile, and Rhiannon’s own mouth twisted in bitterness.
‘That’s what that was about? Sex?’ Of course it was. She was such a pathetic fool, thinking for one second it could ever be anything more.
Lukas sat back, looking surprised. ‘Obviously I desire you. I desired you when I first saw you.’
‘In the bar.’
He looked discomfited for the barest of moments before he gave a quick, sharp nod. ‘Yes. Before any of this happened with the child the desire was there. It was real.’
Real and warm and alive. Yet it was just desire—cheap and easy.
Even desire could be a burden.
It wasn’t love, and Rhiannon knew that was what she needed. Wanted.
She’d just never had it.
‘We should go to bed. Sleep,’ she amended hastily, and Lukas acknowledged her slip of the tongue with a wry nod. ‘It’s been a long day.’
‘Yes, it has.’
Rhiannon reached for her plate and he stilled her movement with one hand on her arm, his fingers curling around her wrist. ‘Perhaps that was a moment of comfort we both needed,’ he said. ‘It won’t happen again.’
He spoke in warning, as if he thought she might expect a replay. Did she seem so desperate?
Rhiannon’s nerves were splintered, her emotions in tatters.
None of this was supposed to happen.
‘Well, thank you,’ she finally said, her voice strained and low, ‘for that courtesy.’ And without another word, not trusting herself to speak or meet his frowning gaze, she slipped through the door.
She heard him leave the suite from the safety of the locked bathroom. She sat on the edge of the bathtub, her fists in her hair, her lips still burning from his kisses.
Perhaps it was a moment of comfort we both needed.
Damned by compassion. Pity. No doubt his misguided sense of responsibility striking once again. He’d been trying to comfort her.
She didn’t want comfort.
She wanted love.
She wanted it for herself, wanted it for Annabel.
She felt a terrible, hollow certainty that she wouldn’t find it here.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘WE NEED to leave. Now.’
Rhiannon sat up in bed, blinking sleep from her eyes, clutching the covers to her chest. Annabel was still asleep, and Lukas stood in the doorway of her suite, fully dressed, his lithe body coiled and tense.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘What I’m talking about,’ he bit out, ‘is the press in front of this resort—thanks to the little stunt you pulled yesterday at the reception.’ He pulled a rolled-up newspaper from his pocket and threw it on the bed.
Rhiannon unfurled it with shaking fingers and a leaden heart.
Secret Playboy? Lukas Petrakides Discovers his Love-child. Furious Mother Booted Out of Newest Resort! the headline screamed. There was even a picture—a grainy shot from a telephoto lens—of the two of them on the beach. The paparazzi photographer had clearly waited for his moment, Rhiannon realised with a sinking feeling. It was towards the end of their conversation yesterday afternoon, when they had clearly been in an argument.
Thank God they hadn’t got a photo of their kiss last night. Just the memory caused a flush to crawl up her throat.
She looked up, met Lukas’s blazing eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘We can discuss this later,’ he informed her tersely. ‘Right now we need to leave. I have a private jet departing in twenty minutes for Greece. You and Annabel will be on it.’
‘Greece?’ Rhiannon repeated stupidly, and he slashed a hand through the air.
‘Yes—to safety! You can’t stay here now the press have wind of this story. Once they know we’ve gone, they’ll give up the chase. For the moment. I don’t want the press hounding the resort’s guests, and I don’t want them finding you or Annabel. The last thing I need is more sordid details.’
That was what she was, Rhiannon thought. A sordid detail. She opened her mouth to reply, but Lukas cut her off before she could frame a syllable.
‘Get dressed. I’ll wait outside the door.’
He flung open the door just as Annabel let out her good-morning howl of hunger.
Rhiannon scooped her up, prepared a bottle with clumsy fingers and a whirling mind. She dressed herself quickly, then found something for Annabel to wear, threw some nappies and the prepared bottle in a bag, and stepped outside.
‘I’m ready.’
‘Good.’ Lukas had been leaning against the wall, arms folded, but now he pushed off and stood back to sweep her with an assessing gaze.
Rhiannon was conscious of her faded jeans and worn tee-shirt. Annabel had already dribbled on her shoulder. Lukas’s mouth tightened as he looked at her, whether in disapproval or displeasure Rhiannon didn’t know, but she forced herself not to care.
‘Someone will bring your bags to the jet. Let’s go,’ he said, and as he strode quickly down the corridor she had no choice but to follow, Annabel screeching in protest.
Lukas sat back in the plane seat and rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve the stabbing tension which had lodged there since he’d seen those damn newspapers this morning.
He knew the news would be all over France, all over Greece, all over the world. His father would have seen