Constantine's Defiant Mistress

He caught her against him, crushing her tiny frame against his and enfolding her within his powerful arms. She could feel the fierce hard heat of his body where it touched hers, and knew that she should cry out her protest—but she could no sooner stop this than she could have stopped the earth spinning around the sun.

His mouth came down to capture hers, and even though Laura was desperately inexperienced when it came to men she could sense the simmering anger which lay behind his kiss. This was a kiss which had more to do with anger than desire. But that didn’t stop her responding to it—didn’t stop her body flaring up with desire as if he had just ignited it with some hidden fuse. He despises me, was her last sane thought as the expert touch of his mouth made her lips part willingly beneath his.

His hands were tight around her waist and her own were splayed over the hard chest, where she could feel the rapid thundering of his heart. And through the kiss Laura made a little sound of disbelief—wondering how she could respond with such melting pleasure to a man who clearly viewed her with utter contempt.

The sound seemed to startle him, for just as suddenly as he had taken her in his arms he let her go, so that she had to steady herself against the wall as she stared up at him.

‘Wh-what was that all about?’ she breathed.

What, indeed? With an effort, Constantine controlled his ragged breathing and stared at her, shaking his head as if to deny the intensity of that kiss. It had been all about desire, he told himself fiercely—a powerful desire which was no respecter of circumstance or status. And how extraordinary that he should feel such overwhelming lust for this washed-out little waitress. Inappropriate, too—when to do so would surely weaken his case against her preposterous claim.

He looked down at her, his heart pounding so powerfully in his chest and his groin so hard with need that for a moment he couldn’t think straight. ‘You will need to get a DNA test done as quickly as possible,’ he grated.

Laura’s eyes widened in distress. ‘But…But…’

‘But what?’ he cut in scornfully, and gave a short laugh as the aftermath of the kiss faded and reality flashed in like a sharp knife. ‘Did you really think that I was going to acknowledge the boy as a Karantinos heir—giving him access to one of the world’s greatest fortunes—simply because you say so and because the boy bears a passing resemblance to me?’

‘But you—’

‘Yes, he looks Greek,’ he finished witheringly. ‘But for all I know you might be one of those women who turn on for Greek men.’ He gave a blistering smile as his gaze raked over her kiss-swollen lips. ‘I think you’ve just demonstrated that to both our satisfaction.’

Laura slumped back against the wall and stared up at him. Was that why he had kissed her—to make her look morally loose? And then to follow it up with a cold-blooded demand that she prove Alex was his child? ‘Why, you…you bastard!’ she gasped.

Constantine reflected that women were remarkably unimaginative when it came to insults. And didn’t they realise that they were the ones who put themselves into situations which gave men ammunition to criticise them?

But inside he was hurting for reasons he wasn’t even close to understanding—a state of being so rare for him that it made him want to hurt back, and badly.

‘I should be careful about my choice of words, if I were you, Laura,’ he informed her coldly. ‘It isn’t my parentage which is in doubt. If tests prove that the boy is mine, then I will take responsibility—but first you’re going to have to prove it.’

CHAPTER FOUR

‘WHAT do you mean, he wants a DNA test?’

Laura stared at her sister, trying to snap out of the terrible sense of weariness which seemed to have settled over her like a dank cloud. After leaving the Granchester last night she had spent a few restless hours in a cheap London hotel before catching the first train back to Milmouth—her mind still spinning with all the hurtful things Constantine had said to her. On the plus side, she had arrived back in time to take Alex to school, but now she was back in the shop, Sarah having coped with the morning rush of customers. This quiet spell meant that Laura was now forced to face Sarah’s furious interrogation.

She shrugged her shoulders listlessly—she had gone through every emotion from anger and indignation through to sheer humiliation and had worn herself out with them. ‘It’s fairly self-explanatory, isn’t it? He wants a DNA test done. He wants proof that Alex is his son.’

‘Did you show him the photo?’

‘Of course I did.’

‘And?’

There was a pause while Laura thought about how best to put it, strangely reluctant to repeat Constantine’s wounding words. Was it her own hurt pride which stopped her from telling her sister how much he clearly despised her and all she stood for? ‘He said that although Alex looked Greek he couldn’t possibly risk acknowledging an heir to such a vast fortune as his without proof.’

‘The bastard!’

And even though she’d hurled exactly the same word at him last night, Laura now found herself in the bizarre position of putting forward a contrary point of view. One that she had been thinking about during her early morning train journey. ‘I can see his point,’ she said carefully. ‘I mean, he doesn’t know that he’s the only possible contender who could be Alex’s father, does he?’

‘Didn’t you tell him?’

‘No.’ His anger had been too palpable; the mood between them too volatile. Why, he’d even accused her of using her virginity as a bargaining tool. ‘And even if I had he might not have believed me. Why should he?’

Sarah frowned. ‘Laura—I don’t believe this! You’re not defending him, are you?’

‘Of course I’m not,’ replied Laura stiffly.

But the truth was far more complex. She could see Constantine’s point—even though it hurt her to the core that he should think her capable of having lots of partners and just wanting to foist paternity on the richest candidate. The way she had acted the day she’d met him had been uncharacteristic behaviour she’d never repeated—but Constantine wasn’t to know that, was he?