Six Greek Heroes. Cathy Williams

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I’d like to lie down for a while.’

      Belatedly noticing her pallor, Andreas descended from his icy tower of reserve at supersonic speed. Concern in his troubled gaze, he strode across the room. With careful hands he scooped her up and rested her down again gently on the bed. ‘Let me take you back to London with me. You don’t even need to get dressed. I could wrap a blanket round you,’ he heard himself suggesting.

      ‘Don’t fuss. I’m too tired to go anywhere,’ she muttered sleepily.

      ‘Theos…I think I should get a doctor to check you over,’ Andreas continued.

      ‘Don’t be daft. I’m only pregnant,’ she mumbled soothingly, heavy eyelids already drooping.

      Andreas had always admired Hope’s robust good health. She was never sick. Any condition capable of flattening her to a bed before nine in the evening was the equivalent of a serious illness in Andreas’s book. She looked exhausted and the translucence of her skin lent her a disturbingly fragile air. Guilt threatened to swallow him alive. He tugged the bedding up over her and tucked her in as she slid over onto her side. He had subjected her to a great deal of stress. That had to stop right now.

      He shouldn’t be throwing Ben Campbell up and upsetting her either. But had he been a substitute for Campbell in the bedroom this evening? he wondered rawly. Understandably, Campbell had backed off once he’d realised Hope was carrying Andreas’s child. That would have been a distinct turn-off for the other man. Was the fact that Andreas had been a substitute the reason why Hope had referred to their recent physical encounter as being just sex?

      His mobile phone vibrated. He walked out to the landing and pulled across the door before answering it.

      ‘Where are you?’ Elyssa demanded stridently. ‘You’ve got to come and sort Finlay out!’

      Andreas raised a wry ebony brow and said nothing. He had never made the mistake of interfering between his sister and her husband. Elyssa was volatile and could be quite a handful. Finlay might worship the ground his beautiful wife walked on but he was no pushover.

      ‘This is serious!’ his sister gasped and an uncharacteristic sob broke up her voice. ‘Finlay says he’s leaving me!’

      Switching off his phone a couple of minutes later, a grim expression stamped on his darkly handsome features, Andreas strode back into the bedroom.

      Hope’s feathery lashes fluttered up on drowsy turquoise eyes. ‘Sorry…did I drift off?’

      ‘Come back to London with me,’ Andreas urged forcefully. ‘I don’t like leaving you here alone.’

      With a shake of her blonde head, she burrowed deeper into the pillow. Andreas adjusted the sheet again and resisted an almost overpowering need to just grab her up and stow her in the front of his car. His life had been so smooth when she had just done as he’d asked. Now everything was a battle and he hated it.

      He needed an edge. He needed a country house, something Hope would take one look at and fall hopelessly in love with. Cue: listed building of historical interest, oak beams, walled garden, loads of bathrooms. At least it would be a good investment. He contacted a top city estate agent and passed on his requirements.

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      THE strident call of the phone wakened Hope the following day. In her dream she was wearing a billowing evening frock and drifting gracefully across a vast green lawn towards Andreas, who had never looked more like a movie star. Then all of a sudden the dream turned into a nightmare for Andreas got fed up waiting and walked off. Even though she tried frantically hard to catch up with him, he kept on getting further and further away from her. She sat up with a start and his name on her lips, her heart pounding with panic.

      When she snatched up the phone, she somehow assumed that it would be Andreas and was guiltily but deeply disappointed when she realised that the caller was Vanessa. Her friend was so thrilled by the news she had to relate that it was several minutes before Hope grasped what the other woman was talking about. A London fashion designer had seen Vanessa’s photographic study of Hope’s handbags and, having been hugely impressed by Hope’s sense of style, was eager to meet Hope in person and see more of her work.

      Hope called the number that Vanessa gave her and agreed to an appointment late that same day. She had to leap out of bed, pack her bag and ring a taxi to take her to the train. Her relaxing country break had lasted less than forty-eight hours. But she was very excited that her designs had attracted the attention of a real trendsetter in the fashion world.

      Just before she locked up the cottage, a courier delivered a brand new mobile phone to her courtesy of Andreas. It was her favourite colour of lilac and it was incredibly cute as well as being possessed of every technological development known to man, most of which she would never use, but which Andreas would take the first opportunity to explain and demonstrate in detail. Of course, she knew she shouldn’t accept the phone, but she absolutely craved the sense of connection she experienced at the frequent sound of his dark, deep drawl.

      Establishing less fraught relations with Andreas made good sense, she reasoned inwardly. After all, they would soon be parents even if they were no longer together. Her throat filled with an immoveable lump. Had she been a little hasty rejecting him the night before? Hurriedly she squashed that weak rebellious thought.

      But there was no denying that the tranquillity she had achieved had been slaughtered by Andreas’s arrival and consequent departure. She felt bereft and empty and unhappy and that made her so angry with herself. She had to learn to live without Andreas. A positive development on the career front that would also keep her busy had never been more necessary.

      Her new phone rang. ‘Yes,’ she answered all breathless, and on edge.

      ‘It’s me…’ Andreas imparted unnecessarily, the dark timbre of his sexy voice shimmying down her sensitive spine.

      All of a sudden she was reliving the crash-and-burn effect of his gorgeous mouth on hers, his wildness in bed and the complete impossibility of ever replacing him with anyone even human.

      ‘I have some family stuff to deal with this evening.’ He sighed with audible regret. ‘But I would like to see you tomorrow.’

      She breathed in deep and held her breath to prevent herself from saying yes too quickly. ‘OK…’ she said finally, trailing out the word as if she were still considering the idea.

      ‘I’d appreciate your advice on a house I’m thinking of buying.’

      Hope was vaguely surprised that she didn’t swoon. Andreas wanted her advice? That was a huge compliment. And the advice related to a house? She adored houses. Was he moving? Whatever, it felt marvellous and cosy and confidence-boosting to be approached for an opinion. It was respect…in a small way, she told herself. Suddenly the glitz and the sparkle had returned to her day.

      ‘What right did Finlay have to take Robbie and Tristram to his mother’s house?’ Elyssa demanded shrilly of Andreas for at least the tenth time.

      ‘You’re very upset.’ Andreas released his breath in a soundless hiss. ‘Perhaps your husband thought he was doing you a favour.’

      Finlay often took his sons to their grandmother’s with Elyssa’s

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