His Love-Child. Jacqueline Baird
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wild, passionate love.
No, not love, sex… Willow instantly amended. She had discovered the true meaning of her Quaker grandmother’s many dire warnings about men and sex and their lack of respect the morning after.
Like a besotted fool she had believed Theo when he’d asked her to spend the weekend with him, so they could get to know each other better. She had watched him fall asleep and then returned to her room and packed. Later, feeling every inch a real woman, she had slipped downstairs to ring her mother to tell her of her change of plan. Her head had been full of love and happy ever after. But before she’d had a chance to call the telephone in the hall had rang.
Politely answering, she had listened in numb disbelief as a woman called Dianne had asked to speak to her boyfriend, Theo Kadros. Shocked into answering honestly, Willow had said he was still in bed asleep. The woman had hesitated for a moment, and then laughed, saying, ‘He is probably tired because I kept him up till dawn the night before. Don’t bother waking him; I am flying over today, and I want him rested for tonight.’ She had then instructed Willow to inform Theo as soon as possible that his fiancée had called.
Anna had appeared as Willow had slowly replaced the receiver, and had asked who had called. Willow had told her that it was Theo’s fiancée, and had had the horrible truth confirmed when Anna had replied, ‘Dianne, you mean.’
Even then Willow had not wanted to believe what she’d been hearing. She had hated herself but she hadn’t been able to help questioning Anna. She had asked her if Theo had known Dianne very long, and had been mortified when Anna had informed her about a year, which was a record for her brother. Anna had explained that this was probably because Dianne was prepared to put up with his playboy lifestyle, but had added that their dad had been grumbling lately that it was time Theo settled down.
The final nail in the coffin for Willow had been when Anna had confirmed that Theo had just flown in late last night after visiting Dianne in New York. Willow had not needed to hear any more. She’d realised what a complete and utter fool she had been, and half an hour later she had been in a taxi heading for the airport.
Now, nine years later, she looked back up into his darkly attractive face and her blue eyes clashed with gleaming black. For a moment the breath left her lungs as she realised he was watching her with cold, almost angry scrutiny. Even so, she could not prevent the sudden acceleration of her pulse rate and the sick twist of sensual hunger that tied her stomach in knots.
‘What exactly do you think you are doing?’ she asked in a voice that was not quite steady. Hating the ease with which he had affected her all over again, Willow took a couple of steps back.
‘Rescuing an old friend.’ His dark eyes narrowed on her pale face. ‘Unless of course you want to pose some more for those two randy men out there.’ He paused, one dark brow arched sardonically. ‘Topless, maybe?’ His heavy-lidded eyes raked slowly over her, taking in the top of her head, lingering for a moment on the unchanged beauty of her face and down further, hesitating briefly on the creamy curve of her breasts revealed by the low neckline of her dress. ‘As I remember, Willow, you certainly have the figure for it.’
She battled back the blush that threatened at his blatant masculine appraisal. But she could do nothing except pray that he would not notice the sudden tightening of her nipples against the soft fabric of her dress. ‘I didn’t need rescuing,’ she said, aiming for a firmness she did not feel. ‘I am perfectly capable of looking after myself, thank you. Now, if you will excuse me… I have a meeting to attend.’
‘Yes, I heard, with Ben Carlavitch, no less. But first allow me to congratulate you on winning the award. I have read your latest book and thoroughly enjoyed the deviousness of the mind that wrote it. You have certainly done well for yourself.’ His dark eyes gleamed appreciatively down into hers, and his firm male mouth curved and softened in a slight smile. ‘But then I always knew you had hidden talents,’ he drawled silkily.
With maturity Willow had attained a certain degree of sophistication, and she did not deign to acknowledge his obvious innuendo. Theo Kadros was a conceited, arrogant devil. She had once looked up the meaning of his name, Theodore—Gift of God, and if ever a man thought he was God’s gift it was Theo. Always larger than life, he was a handsome, dynamic man, self-assured to a degree that intimidated most people. Willow knew that she was no exception, but she had no intention of letting him see her fear.
‘Thank you,’ she said coolly, bravely holding his gaze.
She had read about him over the years; it had been unavoidable. He was incredibly wealthy and had inherited the family business on the death of his father a few years ago. Typically Theo had gone on to quadruple the size of the company. He was feared and respected in equal degrees by the business world, a ruthless, powerful man who had his fingers in many pies. It was just her appalling bad luck that one of the pies happened to be the very hotel she was booked into for the night.
‘I am glad you enjoyed the book,’ she continued steadily. ‘But now, if you will excuse me.’ She turned and headed for the door. Meeting Theo Kadros again was her worst nightmare, and she had to get away fast.
‘Of course, you have a meeting,’ Theo said smoothly, and moved quickly to open the door, but put a restraining hand on her arm. ‘But later, perhaps you would care to join me for dinner?’ He paused and added softly, ‘Willow?’
The sound of her name on his tongue and his long fingers curved around her bare flesh set every nerve in her body quivering in a sensual response. Mortified at her instant reaction to this man, and calling on every bit of self-control she possessed, she lifted her chin and looked up into his hard face. ‘Thank you for the invitation, Theo, but I am afraid I must refuse.’
Theo studied her, his attention wandering from the barely constrained mass of her silken black hair to her brilliant blue eyes. As he watched her he saw the flicker of fear in their sparkling depths. ‘You have a husband who might object?’ he asked abruptly. Perhaps she was afraid of arousing her partner’s jealousy? Theo could understand that. If she were his woman he would not let her out of his sight.
‘No…’ Willow said without thinking. Then cursed herself for being so honest. Theo had given her the perfect opportunity for her never to see him again and in her panic she had blown it. ‘But—’ She was going to say she had made other arrangements but never got the chance.
‘Good, then there is nothing to stop you joining me.’
The arrogance of the man was astounding. As long as she wasn’t married it was okay; he had not changed one iota. ‘But what about you?’ she asked coolly. ‘I am sure I read somewhere that you are married. Won’t your wife have something to say about you dining with another woman?’
She knew he had married Dianne. It had been in the press a few months after Willow had last seen him. A year or so later there had been a huge article in an international magazine about Dianne and the villa her husband had built for her in Greece.
‘I doubt it,’ Theo answered. ‘We were divorced years ago.’
Dianne had probably found out what a two-timing louse he was, Willow thought dryly.
‘So what do you say, Willow? We are both free and single, so there is nothing to stop us spending the evening together. We can catch up on old times.’
‘Sorry.’ She tried a brief smile and explained, ‘But I have already arranged to have dinner with my editor, so no, thank you.’ She reached again for the door handle.
‘Then as we are both staying in the same hotel, you must at least join me for a drink later, or I will begin to think that I have upset you in some way,’ Theo drawled in his deep dark voice. ‘Yet, as I recall, we parted with a handshake nine years ago.’
Was she imagining the steely threat present in his soft drawl? She was about to bite back with an angry refusal but thought perhaps it would be wiser to agree. Willow’s long lashes lowered slightly over her eyes, masking her expression. One drink and a brief friendly chat before retiring for the night. How hard could that be? She did