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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reminded him, he didn’t want anything. Refused to allow himself to want, to be weak.
Yet he wanted her.
Lukas swore again. Why did that slip of a woman, with too much curly hair and eyes like sunlit puddles, make him go crazy? Lose control? Want to lose control?
That was what chilled him the most.
Nobody made Lukas Petrakides lose control.
Nobody.
Except this one woman who had come closer than anyone else.
He stood up from the piano, strode to the window. Outside the sky was black, pricked with stars reflecting blurrily on the sea below.
He could hear the gentle lapping of the waves, the timeless sound of surf and wind, and felt soothed by the power, the effortless control of the ocean around him.
Things had to change. Rhiannon had to go. He’d wanted to give her time, to sow the seeds of doubt that would have her leaving for Wales in good conscience, thinking it was her idea.
Now he realised there was no time. The desire was too strong, the danger too real. Tomorrow he would leave … and soon so would she.
The thought of never seeing her again made Lukas’s gut twist. He didn’t want her to go.
The realisation shamed him. Already she was making him want, making him weak. It had to stop.
Even if it hurt. Especially if it did.
CHAPTER SIX
‘YOU’RE leaving?’ Rhiannon clutched the back of the chair as she watched Lukas riffle through some papers. This was the Lukas from the resort—the business Lukas, the professional man.
He wore a grey silk suit, tailored and immaculate, and he didn’t even look at her as he said, ‘Yes. I have business in Athens.’
‘You’re just going to leave me here? Like …’ Her mind struggled to remember the Greek myths from his school-days. ‘Like Ariadne?’
Lukas looked up, eyes glinting briefly with admiring humour. ‘Ah, yes. Poor Ariadne. Theseus just left her on that island—Naxos, in fact—after she helped him slay the minotaur. A fitting comparison. Remember, though, she was rescued by Dionysus.’
‘I don’t want to be rescued,’ Rhiannon flashed, and Lukas smiled coolly.
‘No one’s offering. Christos will be arriving in Athens within the week, and I need to be there.’
‘I should be too …’
‘No, Rhiannon,’ he corrected her gently, but with ominous finality. ‘That is not your place.’
‘Annabel …’
‘Is my responsibility.’
‘Not yet!’ Rhiannon retorted, eyes flashing fire, and Lukas sighed.
‘Rhiannon, after all we’ve discussed, haven’t you yet realised how impossible this situation is? I know you feel an obligation towards Annabel, an admirable desire to see her well settled, but—’
‘Well loved,’ Rhiannon corrected fiercely, and Lukas acknowledged this with a brief, brusque nod.
‘You cannot possibly mean to sacrifice your career, your life, to be near her in Greece. No one requires that of you.’
No one wants that of you. That was what he was really saying. Rhiannon looked down. It had been a long, sleepless night, reliving those shaming moments in the kitchen with Lukas, her own flooding desire.
She’d also tried to think of solutions, possibilities that would keep her with Annabel.
Nothing had come to mind.
‘What if I want to?’ she finally whispered, and Lukas stilled.
‘Don’t presume,’ he warned softly, ‘that what happened between us last night meant … anything.’
‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ Rhiannon replied, blushing painfully. ‘If I choose to stay in Greece it will be because of Annabel only, not you. Last night—’
‘Was a mistake.’ His tone was so final, so brutal, that Rhiannon flinched.
‘One you seem to keep repeating,’ she finally said through numb lips.
The look he gave her from under frowning brows was dark, quelling. ‘You don’t need to remind me. I’m well aware of the situation—which is, in part, why I’m leaving.’
‘Because of me?’
He picked up his briefcase, slid his mobile phone into his jacket pocket and stood before her, glancing down at her with something close to compassion.
‘You need to let go, Rhiannon,’ he said quietly, adding so she barely heard, ‘And so do I.’ He handed her a mobile that matched his. ‘Keep this with you. I’ve programmed my own mobile number on speed dial. You can ring me if you run into any trouble.’
And then, with a faint whiff of his pine-scented cologne, he was gone. Rhiannon slipped the phone into her pocket, then sagged against the study chair, her hands slick on the smooth leather.
She knew she should be relieved that Lukas was gone. At least now they wouldn’t be clashing. There could be no confrontations. She had a week’s reprieve—a week to decide how she could stay in Annabel’s life … if she could.
Rhiannon realised the impossibility, the sacrifice. Was it worth it? Was she willing?
She had no answers.
From upstairs Rhiannon heard Annabel’s faint cries as she woke from her morning nap. She hurried up, smiled involuntarily at the sight of Annabel’s dark fleecy curls and wide brown eyes peering over the edge of the cot.
‘Hello, sweetheart. Shall we go to the beach this morning? Try out all your new sand toys?’
As she picked the baby up, cuddled her close, she heard the sound of a helicopter’s engine throbbing to life.
Rhiannon moved to the window, Annabel on her hip, and watched the helicopter disappear into the horizon like an angry black insect.
The house suddenly seemed ridiculously silent and still.
‘Come on,’ Rhiannon said as cheerfully as she could, ‘let’s find your swimming costume.’
The morning passed pleasantly enough, and, after lunch in the kitchen with Adeia, Rhiannon put Annabel down for a nap and read one of the paperbacks Lukas had included in his box of provisions.
When Annabel woke again, she changed her and took her down to the kitchen. Adeia was busy at the stove, but had a ready smile for the baby.
‘May we eat with you again?’ Rhiannon asked, only to have her spirits sink when Adeia gave a vigorous shake of her head.
‘Oh, no, miss,’ she said in halting English. ‘The master … Mr Petrakides … expects you to dine with him tonight.’
For one brief, hope-filled second Rhiannon thought the housekeeper meant Lukas. Perhaps he’d returned while she was upstairs, was waiting for her …?
The realisation of her own happiness at such a thought made her flush in shame. Of course Adeia meant Theo. And the prospect of dining alone with the sour old man made Rhiannon’s spirits sink further.
She could hardly argue with the housekeeper, however, and to refuse Theo would be outright rude. With a sigh, Rhiannon set to feeding Annabel.
After giving the baby a bath and settling her for the night, she considered her own choice of clothing.
She finally settled on a pair of plain black trousers she’d brought with her, paired with the scalloped lace blouse she’d worn before.
Theo was waiting