The Greek's Bought Wife. Helen Bianchin
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‘Vasili would want his child to be well cared for…to legitimately bear the Leandros name. I can at least do that for him.’
‘Regardless of my wishes?’
‘You’ll be more than adequately compensated. Houses at home and abroad, frequent travel, jewellery, an extremely generous allowance.’
‘For which I should be duly grateful?’ If looks could kill, he’d fall dead on the spot. ‘And you?’ Tina demanded. ‘What would you get out of such a marriage?’
‘A wife, a legitimate Leandros heir, a social partner.’ He waited a beat. ‘And one very persistent woman out of my life.’
‘I very much doubt you need protection from anyone. Especially a woman!’
Tina was so impossibly angry she didn’t pause to think. ‘I imagine your wife would be expected to turn a blind eye to a mistress discreetly set up in an apartment somewhere?’ She leaned forward and sharpened a mythical dart, just for the hell of it. ‘Or does your taste run to same-sex lovers?’
She glimpsed something hard in the depths of those dark eyes, then it was gone.
‘Are you done?’
Tina paid no heed to the dangerous silkiness in his voice. ‘What about my needs?’
His eyes locked with hers, and she couldn’t look away. ‘All you have to do is ask.’
She swung her hand towards his face. Except it didn’t connect.
Instead he used her momentum to pull her into his arms and silenced her by covering her mouth with his own in a kiss that tore her composure to shreds.
Nothing she’d ever experienced came close to the frankly sensual plundering he subjected her to. It was an invasion of the senses, a flagrant, devastating attempt to suppress her will.
When he released her she could barely stand, and she was hardly aware of the notes he tossed onto the table, or that he followed as she turned and walked from the restaurant.
It was impossible to ignore him, for he was there as she unlocked her Volkswagen…a funky bright yellow sedan, with a sunroof, that she’d fallen in love with on sight.
‘Tomorrow,’ Nic inclined as she slid in behind the wheel.
‘Go to hell.’ Fierce, angry, foolish words, she perceived as she fired the engine and sent the car towards the exit at a speed in excess of the marked restriction.
Nic Leandros was the most impossible man she’d ever met. If she never saw him again, it would be too soon.
A sharp horn-blast startled her, and she swore beneath her breath at her failure to notice the traffic light had changed from red to green.
Focus, Tina silently berated as she sent the car forward.
In a determined bid, she attempted to dismiss Nic Leandros from her mind.
Except it didn’t work. She could still feel the pressure of his mouth on her own, the taste of him. Dammit, the sensual sweep of his tongue.
Oh, for heaven’s sake! Get over it.
Nic Leandros was merely exerting male dominance in a spontaneous attempt to still her angry tirade.
Tina slept badly, and woke feeling as if she’d run a marathon. The beginnings of a headache threatened an emergence, and her stomach didn’t feel as if it belonged to her at all.
Sweet tea and dry toast…or was that merely an old wives’ tale?
The temptation to bury her head beneath the pillow and tell the world to go away was uppermost. Except it wasn’t going to happen.
There was work…and some time during the day she had to face Nic Leandros. The hope he might go away was as unlikely to be realised as a snowfall in summer.
What time was it? She checked the digital clock and groaned. Another hour before room service would deliver breakfast.
Okay, so she could do the sweet tea, and there was probably a snack-pack of dry biscuits in the complimentary mini-bar. The day’s newspaper should already be outside her door…
If her stomach decided to revolt, better sooner than later, she determined a trifle grimly.
Ten minutes later she cast the newspaper aside and took a leisurely shower, then dressed; she ate a healthy breakfast, tidied the suite, then she cast a glance at the time.
It was early, yet the need to keep occupied prompted the thought of work. Better to be at the boutique than sit twiddling her thumbs in a hotel room.
She would dust the fittings, vacuum, then check the floor stock before opening up at the usual time.
Early mornings tended to be slow, with few patrons making an appearance much before ten, when Lily reported in for the day.
With that in mind she collected her laptop, caught up her bag and went down to collect her car.
Double Bay was only a matter of kilometres distant, and she parked at the rear of the building, activated the car alarm, then crossed to the entrance out front.
Tina took great pride in the boutique with its elegant salon, beyond which lay a small back room where extra stock was stored, as well as the usual utilities.
There was a need to be in familiar surroundings, she acknowledged as she crossed the salon. To think and rationalise Nic Leandros’ proposition. She’d be damned if she’d term it a proposal.
She hadn’t thought of children; she definitely hadn’t considered marriage.
It was the reason she socialised within the safe company of a few selected and trusted friends. Vasili used to tease that while he protected her from male predators, she protected him from female fortune hunters. A mutually satisfactory relationship.
At least it had been until that fateful night when a friendly kiss had led to more. A tenderly concerned Vasili who had suggested it was time she made the final leap to sexual intimacy with a friend for whom she held affection and trust. Add the enhancement of wine…and it had seemed so logical at the time.
Ironic that the act should result in pregnancy. Yet she wanted this child…an unexpected gift in living memory of a fun and caring young man.
Was she right in keeping the child solely hers? If Vasili were alive, they’d share parenting and the child would assume the Leandros name.
So why did she baulk at Nic Leandros’ proposition?
Because Vasili’s half-brother was an unknown quantity. Older, ruthless…dangerous.
Yet she had to concede there were advantages. The child would have a father figure, a legal right to its heritage, grandparents, family. A stable, loving environment in which to grow.
On a personal level she’d have a steady male companion whom she could trust