'Are you really sure, Willow?' he tempted her. 'It is a woman's prerogative to change her mind, and that works both ways,' he opined huskily. His heavy-lidded eyes captured hers, and, mesmerised by the sensual promise in the
black depths, she simply stared. 'Perhaps the time wasn't right when we first met. But now we are both mature adults, free agents, we won't be harming anyone if we get together again, and I promise you will enjoy the experience.'
His voice was deep and dark, the words rolling off his tongue like melting black chocolate, tempting and almost irresistible. And then he smiled, a slightly crooked twist to his firm lips.
Only one other person she knew smiled like that, especially when he wanted something from her. 'No. . . . no. . .' She jerked free from his hold. 'No.'
'All right.' Theo shrugged his broad shoulders. 'One "no" will suffice. You said you were tired and I believe you.'
'You do?' she asked stupidly, t
oo dazed to register the cynicism in his tone. She was amazed he was being so reasonable. She knew he was thoroughly aroused and could only marvel at his self-control.
'Yes, but I insist that you join me for breakfast in the morning. What time are you leaving?'
'Well, my train is at ten so I suppose I will leave about nine.' She was too surprised by his reaction to lie.
'Good, then I will meet you in the restaurant downstairs at eight and we can talk then.' Tilting her chin with one long finger, he said, 'Unless you would prefer your breakfast in bed.' Willow gasped and Theo grinned. 'Only teasing. I rushed you last time, and I have no intention of making the same mistake again. I will see you downstairs tomorrow at eight,' and he planted a swift kiss on the top of her head.
CHAPTER FOUR
Willow lay on her back in the king-sized bed and longed for sleep. It had been an hour since she had left Theo's suite, embarrassed and, if she was honest, burning with frustration. She was still burning; she could still feel the touch of his mouth on hers, could still taste him on her tongue and could still feel the need clawing in her belly. No other man had ever made her feel like this. She had only ever dated a couple of people during the past few years. The latest was a perfectly pleasant man called Dave, who was a GP. They were close but their relationship had not even progressed past a kiss. So why, oh, why was she such a pushover for a man like Theo?
It was so unfair and so unexpected, moisture glazed her eyes. What should have been one of the most triumphant days of her life had ended in disaster, and a solitary tear flowed down her cheek. Until yesterday she would have sworn Theo Kadros meant less than nothing to her. For the past nine years she had lived with the conviction he was beneath contempt. She still thought that, but somehow after meeting Theo again today, talking to him, it was making her question her own behaviour.
A deep sigh escaped her. . . If he ever found out she had given birth to his child, his son, and never told him. . .she didn't dare think what he might do to her. Yet it had seemed the right thing to do, the only thing to do at the time.
Closing her eyes, she let the memories flood back of her arrival in India and the last few precious months she had spent with her mother.
It had never really entered her head that she might be pregnant because Theo had used condoms. She had thought that his mention at the airport of the possibility she might become pregnant had just been a ruse to keep in touch. She had been furious with him, and ashamed of herself, and still young enough to see everything in black and white with no grey area in between. In her mind he was a womanising swine that would quite happily take any girl to bed. His suggestion they spend the weekend together had simply been a ploy to send her back to her own room. She had convinced herself he probably had girlfriends dotted all around the world that his poor innocent fiancée knew nothing about, and he had simply wanted to add Willow to his list.
She had been accepted at Oxford to read English in September, and she'd been determined to put Theo Kadros out of her mind, and enjoy her holiday in India with her mother. She had realised she had made a disastrous mistake succumbing to the sexual overtures of a sophisticated, experienced man, and had mistaken lust for love. She had put it down to experience; determined to learn by it and get over it.
But as the long summer had progressed her mother had become more and more worried about her. Willow had honestly thought her lack of energy and occasional sickness had been because of the hot climate, and her bruised heart. It had only been after nine weeks when her mother had taken her to a doctor, that she'd discovered she was pregnant.
It had been her mother who had convinced her to return to England and make the arrangements to postpone her uni- versity entrance for a year and insisted she contact the father straight away.
Willow had reluctantly agreed. She had told her mother her ex-boyfriend was the brother of a friend, implying she had known him for some time. She had been too ashamed to tell her mother it had just been a one-night stand. She had returned to London, and had called at Theo's house in Mayfair prepared to tell him she was pregnant.
But it had not worked out like that. Oh, Willow had gone to the house all right! But only to find it covered in scaffolding. The contractor, British Land Ltd, had been turning it into prestigious offices, and the foreman had told her he had no idea where the last residents had gone.
Tired and frightened, Willow had returned to her family home in Devon. She had called her mother, and told her the ex-boyfriend was out of the country at the moment. Her mother had told Willow not to worry, her tour of duty in India would be finished in ten days, and when she got back they could contact the boy together.
But her mother had never returned to England and Willow had never seen her again.
Willow rolled over on her stomach and buried her head in the pillow. After all these years, it still brought a tear to her eyes when she thought of her mother. It had been such a needless way to die. She had been on her way back from work at the British Embassy to the apartment she'd rented in the city, when she had been caught up in a riot. The Indian army had fired over the heads of the rioters, but by horrible chance a bullet had ricocheted off a building and hit her beloved mother. She had died instantly.
The Foreign Office had been very helpful, but to the pregnant Willow, who had lost her mother and grandmother within six months of each other, it had been devastating. She had numbly agreed to everything that had been suggested, and she could still remember with horror a dark- suited man arriving at the cottage and presenting her with a brass urn containing her mother's ashes.
For months she'd been swamped in grief and it had only been with the help of her grandmother's neighbour, Tess, that Willow had managed to carry on. At seven months pregnant Willow had finally come out of her haze of grief and concentrated on the child growing inside her. She'd decided it was time to do as her mother had wanted, and tell the father. Only it had been too late. . .
Sitting on the train to London, with the address of Theo Kadros's British office in her pocket, Willow had opened the magazine she had bought to read on the journey. There in front of her she had seen the marriage of Theo Kadros to Dianne displayed in a dozen glossy pictures of the happy couple. She had left the train at the next stop and gone straight back home.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Willow sat up and brushed the moisture from her eyes with the back of her hand. She was never going to sleep, and she refused to indulge in any more grief or self-pity. Her mind had been made up for her years ago, and she was determined to stick by her original decision. It was too late to change now. . .
So by the same token the last thing she needed was to meet Theo Kadros for breakfast or at any other time, for that matter.
A quick glance at her wrist-watch told her it was two- thirty in the morning; no chance of a train back to Devon tonight. What the hell? She was a published author who had just signed a lucrative deal for film rights; she could afford it this once, and it was an emergency. . .