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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and he acknowledged this with an inclination of his head.
‘Yes … but what is a little rudeness? After all, I have been rude to you.’ He spoke slowly, but there was precision to his words. Rhiannon blinked in surprise.
‘I’m surprised you admit as much,’ she said after a moment.
Theo shrugged, and indicated for Rhiannon to take her seat. She did so, placing the heavy linen napkin across her lap. Theo poured them both wine and sat.
‘I have come to realise,’ he began carefully, ‘that you will be around for some time to come.’
‘Oh? Has Lukas told you as much?’ Rhiannon could feel her heart starting to beat faster, the adrenalin racing like molten silver through her veins. It was fuelled by hope. She forced herself to remain calm, took a sip of wine and let the velvety liquid slide down her throat.
‘He has said little,’ Theo admitted with a faint frown. ‘But that hardly matters. I am right, am I not? You intend to stay?’
‘Yes, I do.’ Rhiannon met his gaze directly. Adeia entered with the first course—a traditional Greek salad of tomatoes, cucumbers, feta cheese and black olives.
‘You want to be this child’s mother?’ Theo asked musingly, and Rhiannon felt the word reverberate through her soul. Her heart.
Mother. A real mother. Mummy.
‘Legal guardian’ sounded terribly cold in comparison.
‘Yes,’ she said, and her determination—her desire—were evident in the stridency of her tone.
Theo nodded, and Rhiannon was surprised to see a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. What game was he playing? She’d sensed from the moment he’d rested contemptuous eyes on her that he’d wanted her gone. She was a nuisance, a nonentity.
Yet now he seemed pleased that she intended to stick around.
Why? She should be suspicious, even afraid, but the hope was too strong.
‘I don’t know quite how it will work out,’ she began carefully, after the first course was cleared. ‘Lukas doesn’t seem to think there can be a place for me. But … I’m hoping to convince him when he returns from Athens.’
‘He doesn’t?’ Theo repeated, and he almost sounded amused.
‘Yes. I intend to live my own life, Mr Petrakides, as best as I can. Back in Cardiff I was a nurse, and I imagine that my credentials could in some way be transferred to Greece.’ The idea had come to her that afternoon, and though she knew it was half-thought and hazy, it still gave her hope.
He raised one sceptical eyebrow. ‘And the language barrier?’
‘I will have to learn Greek, naturally,’ Rhiannon replied with some dignity. ‘I intend to anyway, for Annabel’s sake. She is, after all, half-Greek.’
‘Indeed.’ Theo swirled the wine in his glass thoughtfully. ‘And how do you suppose my son will react to such plans? You living your own life—with Annabel in your care, I presume?’
‘Not necessarily,’ Rhiannon said quickly. ‘Annabel could remain with you—with Lukas—as long as I have visitation rights.’
It was a compromise, and one she thought Lukas might accept. She could not become someone’s responsibility … Lukas’s Burden … even if he wanted her to. She couldn’t bear to see duty turn to dread, responsibility to resentment. And she couldn’t let that happen to Annabel, either.
Theo merely laughed dryly.
‘We shall see what happens,’ he said, his eyes glinting with humour.
Rhiannon found herself feeling both uneasy and strangely comforted by his cryptic remark.
Theo excused himself to go to bed soon after dinner.
Rhiannon noticed his pale, strained face, the way he walked slowly and stiffly out of the room. She had not broached the subject of his illness, wanting to respect his privacy, yet now it tugged at her conscience, her compassion.
With a little sigh, and realising she was lonely, she went slowly upstairs.
The mobile phone Lukas had given her was trilling insistently when she entered the room. Rhiannon hurried to it before Annabel stirred, and pushed the talk button.
‘Hello?’
‘I’ve been trying to call you for over an hour,’ Lukas said, annoyance edging his voice. ‘You do realise what this phone is for?’
‘Yes,’ Rhiannon replied. ‘For me to get in contact with you. I had no idea you intended to use it the other way round.’
There was a brief pause, and then Lukas said gruffly, ‘I wanted to make sure you and Annabel were all right.’
A ridiculous bubble of delight filled Rhiannon. Lukas almost sounded as if he cared. She didn’t know why that should please her so much, why it made her face split into a wide smile, but it did.
Oh, it did.
‘We’re fine,’ she said. She sat on the edge of the bed, the phone cradled to her ear. ‘I had dinner with your father tonight.’
‘You did?’ Lukas sounded surprised. ‘And you weren’t on the menu?’
Rhiannon giggled; Lukas’s answering chuckle made shivers of delight race along her arms, down her spine, straight to her soul. ‘No, actually, I wasn’t. We were both civil … more than civil. Although …’ She paused, going over the dinner conversation in her mind. ‘He almost sounded like he had some kind of plan.’
‘Plan?’
‘For me. Us.’
‘Us?’ Lukas repeated thoughtfully, and Rhiannon was conscious of the intimacy, the presumption of the word. There was no ‘us’.
Except right now it felt as if there was.
‘I don’t know. Perhaps I was reading too much into a few comments,’ she said hastily.
‘You don’t know my father,’ Lukas replied. ‘He always has a plan.’
They were both silent for a moment; Rhiannon could hear Lukas breathing. There was something so intimate about a telephone conversation, she thought. A conversation just to hear voices, to connect.
A connection.
‘As long as you’re all right,’ Lukas finally said a bit brusquely, ‘I should go. It’s been a long day.’
‘Yes, of course.’ So much for the connection. ‘Goodbye,’ she said awkwardly.
Lukas’s voice was rough as he replied, ‘Goodnight, Rhiannon.’
Rhiannon listened to the click in her ear before disconnecting herself. She laid the mobile phone on her bedside table, closed her eyes.
The maelstrom of emotions within her was confusing, potent. She shouldn’t be affected by one little phone conversation—yet she was.
She was.
She wanted him. She missed him.
Rhiannon pushed herself off the bed, grabbed her pyjamas.
She would not think about Lukas. There was no point. There was no future. In a few days, weeks, everything could change. Lukas could demand she leave.
Or he could ask her to stay.
Hadn’t she learned there were no fairy tale endings? Rhiannon reminded herself. Surely she wasn’t dreaming … again?
She was shaken awake several hours later.
‘Miss! Miss Rhiannon!’ Adeia crouched next to her bed, her worn face tense and pale with anxiety. ‘It’s the master.’
‘The master?’ Rhiannon sat up, pushing her hair out