His Mistress for a Million (12 page)

‘Petra said you have a woman staying with you.’

He almost growled. Petra had always been like family,
they’d practically grown up together, but there were times he resented the closeness and the fact Petra knew his mother so well. This was one of those times.

‘It’s none of Petra’s business. Or yours, for that matter.’

‘Tsh, tsh. Who else can ask if I can’t? Petra said she’s an Australian woman. Quite pretty, in her own way.’

She was more than pretty, he wanted to argue, until another thought blew all thoughts of argument out of the water.

And she could be pregnant.

They’d had unprotected sex. Twice. Right now she could be carrying his seed.

A baby. His mother could have the grandchild she yearned for. And as for him?
He would have Cleo.

Strange, how that thought didn’t send his blood into a tailspin.

But marriage? Was that what he wanted? He took a deep breath. But his mother would expect it, and, besides, there was no way he could not marry the mother of his child. Especially not now.

Granted, they’d shared but a few short days, less than two weeks, but those days had been good. The nights even better. Surely there could be worse outcomes?

‘Petra said—’

He snapped away from possibilities and turned back to the present. ‘Petra talks too much!’

‘Andreas, she only wants the best for you, just as I do. In fact, I once wondered if—’

It was like a bad soap opera. Or a train wreck where you couldn’t look away. He had to keep going till the bitter end. ‘Go on.’

‘Well, you and Petra have lived together for a long time now.’

‘We share a building, not a bed!’ And the mood his mother was in, he wasn’t about to confess that they had.
Once.

‘And,’ she continued, without missing a beat, ‘you have so much in common.’

‘She works for me. Of course, we have a lot in common.’

‘Anyway,’ Sofia said with a resigned shrug of her shoulders before she turned her attention to pick at an invisible speck of nothingness alongside her on the sofa, ‘sometimes we don’t realise what’s right there in front of us, right under our noses. Not until it’s gone.’

His teeth ground together. ‘I’m not marrying Petra.’

She smiled up at him, blinking innocently as if his outburst had come from nowhere. ‘Whoever said you would? I just wondered, that’s all. And there’s nothing wrong with a mother wondering, is there, Andreas? Much better to consider the options than to let the grass grow beneath your feet.’

The grass was feeling comfortable enough where he was standing right now. Or it had been, until his mother had laced its green depths with barbs that tore at the soles of his feet and pricked at his conscience.

‘About this appointment tomorrow to see your doctor…’

‘I get the point, Andreas. But enough about doctors too. Would you like some more coffee?’

C
LEO
was in the pool resting her elbows on the edge, one of her glossy history books perched in front of her. Hungrily Andreas’ eyes devoured her, from the streaked hair bundled up in a clip behind her head, her bare shoulders and back, and her legs making lazy movements in the water. She looked browner than he remembered, her skin more golden. Clearly the weather here suited her better than that dingy hotel in London where her skin was never so much as kissed by the sun.

And an idea, vague and fuzzy inside him, found dimension and merit. She could be pregnant with his child, even now. And even though the news for his mother had been good, the tests had come back negative, that still didn’t change the fact that his mother yearned for grandchildren.

Sofia was right. She wasn’t getting any younger, although he’d never thought of his mother as a number with a finite span. And he’d never thought of his own age and the possibilities of family. Because he’d thought of nothing beyond the one thing that had driven his life for more than a decade.

Retribution.

And now he’d achieved it all, he’d built himself up from nothing until he could exact the revenge he’d been planning for twelve long years, and yet somehow he didn’t get the same
buzz from the achievement any more. He didn’t even care any more if Constantine turned his proposal down flat, and that had never happened before. But the prospect that the grandchild his mother hungered for could already be in the making caused a new and unfamiliar buzz.

Fate? He shook his head. You made your own opportunities in this life, he knew. He’d lived by that mantra for years. He believed in it. It had been what had kept him focused, until he’d found Darius and pulled what was left of him down.

He’d made this opportunity. And like any other, he’d make the most of it.

He padded noiselessly to the side of the pool. He doubted she would hear him anyway, even if he had made a noise. The books she’d bought on Santorini and its ancient civilisations seemed to have her completely in their thrall. Maybe it wasn’t just talk, maybe she really was interested in more than a superficial picture of the island. Or maybe she was just killing time until his return.

Option B, he much preferred.

She turned a page, the angle of her head shifting, still totally oblivious to his presence.

She wouldn’t be for long.

He dived into the water and crossed the pool, taking her by the waist as he erupted like a sea god from the water.

‘Hey!’ She turned, her fright turning to delight when she saw who her assailant was. ‘Oh, you’re back.’

Her legs were cool where they tangled with his, her shoulders deliciously warm from the sun and her lips so slick with gloss he wanted to find out if they were as slippery as they looked. ‘Did you miss me?’ he asked, his hands caressing curves they had sorely missed.

‘Not really,’ she lied, unable to keep the smile from her face or the tingling from her skin. ‘I was kind of busy here, catching up on my reading. You know how it is.’

‘Liar!’ he said. ‘Believe me, I know how it is—’ before pulling her into a deep kiss that had them both spinning together into the depths. They came up gasping but Andreas wasn’t finished with her yet. Already he’d untied her bikini top, one hand at her breasts while the other pushed at her bikini bottoms.

‘Andreas…’

‘Do you realise how long I’ve dreamed about having you in water?’

‘Andreas…’ She clung to him. She had no option but to cling as he brought her flesh alive and made her blood sing. His hands pushed inside her bikini, rounded her buttocks and delved deeper.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he growled, burying his face at her throat, his words so heavy with want it made her head spin. ‘And I want you, so badly.’

‘I…I got my period.’

He lifted his head slowly and gazed at her, his vision blurred by a rush of blood. Bad blood. ‘I see.’

‘But that’s good news, isn’t it? I thought you’d be pleased. Now there are no complications. That’s what you wanted.’

He let her go and turned towards the edge of the pool, powering himself up with his hands to step from the pool like an athlete. He pulled a towel from a nearby stack and buried his face in it. ‘Yes, it’s good news. Of course.’ Only it didn’t feel like good news. It felt as though all the shifts he’d made, all the changes he’d made in his thinking were for nothing, and he was left stranded. He didn’t like the feeling.

He could have done with the odd complication. It would have suited his purposes well.

So much for making opportunity happen.

Petra brought them both coffee as he checked his files the next day. Or she brought him one. Her nose twitched as she deposited
the cup on his desk. ‘You’re not having one?’ he queried, surprised she wasn’t joining in with this long-time ritual.

Her nose twitched again. ‘I seem to be off coffee. Don’t know what it is. Probably just that time of the month.’

Andreas blanked out. He was over that time of the month, big time, and he certainly didn’t want to hear about Petra’s. He was irritable, he was short-tempered, and the sooner he got Cleo back where he wanted her, the better for all concerned. And maybe he’d even forget to use protection all over again. Only she’d probably be gone before she was fertile…

Damn.

Mind you, he could always change the contract terms…His mood brightened considerably. That was definitely one option worth pursuing.

‘Poor Cleo,’ Petra said, sifting through mail as she perched herself on the edge of his desk in her usual way, ‘what a dreadful thing to happen, being cheated of her money like that.’ She slapped a couple of papers down in front of him. ‘Though I guess she brought it on herself to a large extent.’

His ears twitched at the mention of Cleo’s name. He’d almost forgotten Petra was there again, already working out how best to tackle the subject of an extension to their terms. ‘Brought what on herself?’

She shrugged. ‘She must have told you. She went to London to meet this guy she’d hooked up with on the Internet and he ripped off the money for her return fare and left her with nothing. Awful. Mind you, you’d have to be pretty stupid to fall for something like that.’

Andreas sat back in his chair, letting the silence fall between them like an anvil. He knew for a moment that his scowl would say everything he needed to while he untangled the threads of his anger in his mind.

‘Are you saying Cleo’s stupid?’

‘No! I mean…Well—’ she shrugged and screwed up her nose, like she was making some kind of concession ‘—maybe just a bit naïve.’

‘Or are you saying that my father was stupid?’

‘Andreas! It’s hardly the same thing.’

‘Isn’t it? My father trusted someone and lost everything to him. Cleo trusted someone and suffered the same fate. Tell me how it’s different.’

He stood up and peeled his jacket from the back of his chair, shoving first one arm and then the other into it. ‘You deal with the mail, Petra. I’ve got more important things to do.’

‘Andreas, I didn’t mean anything, honest.’

No? He was sick of the niggling, sick of Petra’s snippy put-downs of Cleo with just a look or a snide remark. He’d been wrong to think she would take a not-so-subtle hint. Maybe it was time for a more direct approach. ‘It’s not going to happen, Petra, so don’t think it is.’

She looked innocent enough, but he knew there was a computer inside that was as sophisticated as it was devious. ‘You and me. That night was a mistake. It won’t happen again.’

He found Cleo sitting out on the terrace overlooking the caldera and reading another of her books. In spite of the still-smouldering anger that simmered inside him, he smiled. In a lemon-coloured sundress that made the most of her newly acquired tan, she looked both innocent and intent at the same time.

She looked around, almost as if she’d been able to feel his eyes on her, and she smiled that heart-warming smile as her azure eyes lit up with enthusiasm. ‘Back already? You’ll never guess what I just read.’

Her enthusiasm was infectious. So infectious he didn’t want her to leave in however many days they had left. It was to his advantage she was in a good mood. It would be easier to
convince her to stay. ‘Tell me,’ he said, pulling up a chair alongside.

‘Well, when the volcano erupted going back three thousand years or so ago, it wiped out not just the cities on the island itself, but some think it brought down the entire prehistoric Minoan civilisation with it.’

‘It’s possible,’ he acknowledged with a nod. ‘Nobody knows for certain, but it could explain why the Minoans were such prosperous sea traders one minute and wiped from the face of the earth the next.’

Her azure eyes sparkled like the waters of the caldera itself. ‘But this is the really exciting bit. Some say that the eruption and the fallout are the origins of the legend of Atlantis. A world that sank beneath the sea—and this is where it all happened! Do you believe it? Do you think Santorini is actually what’s left of Atlantis?’

His cell phone interrupted them and he pulled it out, took one look at the caller ID and switched it off. Petra could wait.

‘I think it’s highly possible,’ he conceded, repocketing his phone.

She sighed, hugging the book to her chest, and looked over to where the volcano, now silent, spread dark and low in the midst of the waters. ‘I believe it. I did a Google search and found a Classics course in Sydney.’

‘Cleo…’

‘I’m going to enrol in it as soon as I get home. I’ll be able to afford to live there now, thanks to you.’

‘About going home.’

She turned her head, the spark gone from her eyes. ‘Do you want me to leave earlier? I…I don’t mind, if that’s what you want.’

And he almost laughed at the idea. He shook his head. ‘No. I don’t want you to go earlier.’

‘Then, what is it?’

He took a second to frame his thoughts. ‘What’s waiting for you at home? I mean, you’ve never talked about your family. Are they close?’

She gave a curious smile, her eyes perplexed. ‘Well, not really. My mum’s great, but the twins, my two half-brothers, keep her pretty busy and she’s got a baby coming apparently.’ She screwed up her nose. ‘And then there’s my step-dad, of course.’

‘What’s he like?’

She shrugged. ‘He’s okay, a bit rough around the edges maybe, but a lot of blokes are like that out there, but Mum loves him and he’s good to her.’

‘And to you?’

Excess baggage.
The words were indelibly inscribed on her psyche. She sucked in a breath. ‘We moved out there when Mum got the job as his housekeeper. I think he always saw me as a bit of an add-on, always hoping I’d make something of myself and move out. He’ll be relieved I’ll finally be off his hands.’

‘Is that why you took off for the UK?’

She put the book she’d been holding up on the table and rubbed her arms. ‘What’s going on?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Why all the questions? You’ve never bothered about all this personal stuff before.’

‘Maybe we had something else to keep us busy then.’ And even under her tan she managed to blush the way she did that made him warm all over. ‘And maybe I’m just interested.’

She looked up at him warily through lowered lashes, as if she still didn’t quite believe him. ‘Okay. I guess wanting to prove myself was part of the reason I left. The job opportunities at home were non-existent and I kind of fell into cleaning, like
Mum had.’ Her hands knotted in her lap, her grip so tight it sent the ends of her fingers alternately red then white. ‘I thought meeting Kurt was the opportunity of a lifetime and the chance to escape. I was so desperate to make a success of myself, I made every mistake in the book. I was such a fool.’ She fell silent on a sigh, moisture sheening her eyes.

He reached over and untangled the damp knot of her hands, taking one of them between his own, lifting it, and pressing his lips to its back. ‘It’s no crime to trust someone.’

She blinked up at him, trying to clear her vision. Why did he have to be so kind? It had been easier when she’d thought him completely ruthless, easier when she remembered the way he’d taken over the hotel, issuing orders like a general in battle.

But lately he’d been beyond kind. The way he’d abandoned his work to escort her around the island, the way he’d watched sunset after sunset with her because she didn’t want to miss a single one because she wanted to store them all up and remember when she went home, and the way he’d woken her softly just this morning with a kiss and brought her to climax with his clever fingers and his hot mouth.

And now he was listening to her as if what she said mattered. As if he cared for her as much as she was beginning to care for him.

She gulped down a breath.

Oh, no, don’t go there! Don’t imagine it for a minute.
Because once before she’d thought someone cared for her. Once before she’d fallen for him because of it. Look where that had got her.

No, she’d made a deal. Under the terms of their contract, she would leave here in little more than two weeks and they’d never see each other again.

She turned her eyes away from the thumb now stroking her hand, his long, tapered fingers and neat nails, up, and up to his
face, knowing he was waiting for some kind of response, something to show that she’d put what had happened in the past behind her. But it wasn’t what had happened in the past that was bothering her. It was what lay ahead that scared her most of all.

Two weeks of sharing Andreas’ bed and pretending to be his mistress,
being his mistress.

Two weeks of guarding her fragile heart.

And two weeks to work on not falling in love with Andreas Xenides.

She dragged in oxygen to steel her resolve. She’d learned from her mistake with Kurt. It wouldn’t happen to her again. She wouldn’t let it. She couldn’t afford to let it.

‘Thank you,’ she managed at last, trying to keep things as impersonal as possible. ‘I appreciate it.’

‘How much?’

It had taken her ages to form a response. She wasn’t ready for his. ‘Pardon?’

‘How much do you appreciate it?’

She shook her head, still uncertain. ‘What do you mean?’