The Greek's One-Night Heir

‘Well, we wouldn’t want any more of that.’ Something flashed in her eyes.

His breath stalled in his lungs. ‘That’s how you feel? That this was unlucky?’

She put her hand on her belly. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t think that about this. It’s a miracle in a way...coming into being...against all odds, right?’

He still didn’t want to think about the child. Instead he kissed her again until every nerve tingled.

‘No,’ he muttered with a low groan as he pulled away from her. ‘Not tonight.’

He watched the dazedness in her eyes dissipate as disappointment loomed. His gut ached. He hated disappointing her. Which was exactly why he needed to prove his restraint now and build distance back again over the coming days.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Leah,’ he said huskily.

When she’d become his wife.

* * *

He went to work in the morning purely to put himself beyond temptation. But he got no actual work achieved. He spent a couple of hours pacing while talking on the phone, finalising the arrangements for their travel later in the day. The idea had come to him when he’d been unable to sleep a couple of nights ago and he’d been unable to resist putting it in play.

He returned to the compound in time to shower. His tailor had delivered the new suit and shirt. His shoes were new too. Everything was new. Except him. He was still the same—with the same failings. She had no idea really. Tension tightened his muscles as he dressed. He’d consider this a contractual meeting like any other, right? Just another merger.

But he’d never wanted to make promises like this to someone. Not these deeply personal promises he knew he could never keep.

Fidelity—fine. Honour—fine. To love?

Leah was sweet. And she was having a child. He breathed out, refusing to undo the top button of the stiff shirt that suddenly strangled him.

He turned his back on his reflection and strode outside. Dimitri was sitting out on the terrace. Amalia was also there with her husband and their son. Leah had insisted they attend as guests, not staff. He was glad she’d charmed them. It shouldn’t have surprised him; when anyone got to know Leah, they discovered her sweet generosity.

They’d had a shade put over the pergola to protect them from the stunning blue sky and the heat of the sun. Tendrils of white flowers and greenery had been wound around the pillars and made the compound even more picturesque than usual. His security team had swept the beach and ensured there was no one with any cameras and long-range lenses hiding out. They had complete privacy. He’d called in Philip, his security chief, as his witness. The official from the city arrived and briefly ran over the paperwork with him. All that remained was for his bride to appear. He stared down at his watch. Would she keep him waiting? His breathing shallowed. Suddenly it seemed imperative—he needed to see her right now.

The official coughed discreetly and Theo looked up.

His throat tightened. She was a column of white and silver—gleaming like a pale angel with a smile that was both pure and a little playful. The tiny sparkle of confidence felled him. She walked towards him. The white flowers that she held low covered that gentle curve of her belly. A lace shawl covered her shoulders. A white bodice—was it knitted?—hugged her hips and flared from there in a cloud of soft tulle—a subtle reminder of the softness to be found in her straight slenderness. It was all he could do to hold himself upright. He couldn’t wait to slip her out of it. He couldn’t look at her but he couldn’t tear his gaze away. It was like being strung on a medieval torture device. The official stood in front of them, alternately speaking in Greek, then English, so his bride understood. Theo braced, forcing himself to stop staring at her like a crazy man—to take in the ceremony and actually speak when required.

A quick glance behind her showed his grandfather sitting in a chair, leaning forward on his walking stick. A week ago Theo would’ve expected the old man would be prune-faced, given she wasn’t one of his picks, but he was actually smiling and relaxed. He genuinely liked her.

Theo looked at Leah again. Something ached within him. He didn’t want to hurt her and he would. It was in his DNA.

The official was beaming and looking at him expectantly. She was looking at him too—too trusting, too wary, too wanting. That panic—to protect her—surged within him. But he was supposed to kiss her now. He bent forward and brushed his lips over hers in the briefest of touches. He couldn’t allow himself anything more or he’d lose all control.

At last it was over. They were married.

‘Are you sorry your family isn’t here?’ His voice was hoarse as he walked with her to pose for a photo.

She shook her head. ‘No.’

But there was a yearning look within her eyes that smote his heart. He steeled himself against it.

‘Your dress...’ He struggled to push the words past the tightening in his throat. ‘You made it.’

She bit her lip, glancing down. ‘Yes.’

‘How did you have the time?’ He couldn’t fathom it. It was so intricate and beautiful, it had to have taken hours.

‘Amalia and her family helped. They knitted around the clock once they saw the design.’

His heart seemed to stop. ‘Who designed it?’

‘I did. I adapted an idea I’d been working on.’

He nodded and looked down and that was when he saw her shoes. His mouth felt as if wads of cotton wool had been stuffed into it. He couldn’t swallow or speak. He could only stare and then try like hell to control the desire coursing through his body—but it was as if the sluices at an ancient dam had been unlocked.

They were silver shoes, dainty, with delicious little high heels.

And they were for him. He appreciated the gesture more than he’d imagined he could appreciate anything. Touched a part of him so deeply buried he’d not known it was there. All he wanted to do was touch her.

He ached to rid himself of this desperate need. Why hadn’t it eased over these past few days? Why wasn’t it settling now that he had her safety and security ensured? He had everything working in play just as he wanted it. Yet his tension was now worse than ever.

* * *

Leah stared up at Theo, watching the storminess build in his emerald eyes. He was so silent, so inscrutable. She swallowed. ‘You don’t like it?’

‘Like what?’ he muttered, blinking as if he’d lost track of the conversation.

Embarrassment curled within her. ‘My dress.’

She shouldn’t have made it. Should have just bought one of those amazing designer numbers in central Athens. It had taken so many hours, so much planning. She’d had so much companionship with Amalia.

Theo’s expression sharpened and he opened his mouth.

‘Theo, Leah,’ Amalia called to them, breaking the spell.

Leah glanced; the photographer wanted another photo. Theo put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. He did it with such speed, she was almost tipped off balance. Leah glanced up at him to read his expression, given the tension she could feel within him. But he’d looked to the lens. He wasn’t smiling.

‘Perfect,’ the man said.

Theo relea

sed her waist but immediately took her hand in his and led her to the table. It was laden with a selection of delicacies—a celebratory feast Leah could barely touch. Theo didn’t each much either.

‘Traditions are important,’ Dimitri said stiffly. ‘It might be a small wedding but it is important to do things properly.’

She felt Theo’s tension magnify as they were called to cut the beautiful cake.

They sliced into the cake together and, once everyone had a small piece, Dimitri made a toast to them.

Leah nibbled at the cake, stupidly nervous, which was crazy given she was no wedding-night virgin. She knew Theo. Yet at the same time she didn’t. Right now she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking, only that it was apparently unpleasant. Her heart sank; he really hadn’t wanted to do this. The intimacy she’d thought they’d built over the last few days was nothing.

‘Leah and I need to get going now,’ he said to Dimitri.

The old man replied in Greek. Theo smiled and Dimitri, Amalia and the others melted away with teasing smiles.

But Theo dropped his polite smile as he walked towards her.

‘Should I go get changed?’ she asked him anxiously. She didn’t know what he had planned.

‘No,’ he snapped grimly. ‘We need to leave right away.’

CHAPTER TWELVE

SHE WAS ALMOST afraid to speak, his expression was that severe as he led her to the helipad. But she refused to be afraid of her husband. ‘So it’s not prison island?’ she attempted a joke.