His Love-Child. Jacqueline Baird

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His Love-Child - Jacqueline Baird Mills & Boon By Request

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‘Willow?’

      The sound of her name on his tongue and his long fingers curved around her bare flesh set every nerve in her body quivering in a sensual response. Mortified at her instant reaction to this man, and calling on every bit of self-control she possessed, she lifted her chin and looked up into his hard face. ‘Thank you for the invitation, Theo, but I am afraid I must refuse.’

      Theo studied her, his attention wandering from the barely constrained mass of her silken black hair to her brilliant blue eyes. As he watched her he saw the flicker of fear in their sparkling depths. ‘You have a husband who might object?’ he asked abruptly. Perhaps she was afraid of arousing her partner’s jealousy? Theo could understand that. If she were his woman he would not let her out of his sight.

      ‘No…’ Willow said without thinking. Then cursed herself for being so honest. Theo had given her the perfect opportunity for her never to see him again and in her panic she had blown it. ‘But—’ She was going to say she had made other arrangements but never got the chance.

      ‘Good, then there is nothing to stop you joining me.’

      The arrogance of the man was astounding. As long as she wasn’t married it was okay; he had not changed one iota. ‘But what about you?’ she asked coolly. ‘I am sure I read somewhere that you are married. Won’t your wife have something to say about you dining with another woman?’

      She knew he had married Dianne. It had been in the press a few months after Willow had last seen him. A year or so later there had been a huge article in an international magazine about Dianne and the villa her husband had built for her in Greece.

      ‘I doubt it,’ Theo answered. ‘We were divorced years ago.’

      Dianne had probably found out what a two-timing louse he was, Willow thought dryly.

      ‘So what do you say, Willow? We are both free and single, so there is nothing to stop us spending the evening together. We can catch up on old times.’

      ‘Sorry.’ She tried a brief smile and explained, ‘But I have already arranged to have dinner with my editor, so no, thank you.’ She reached again for the door handle.

      ‘Then as we are both staying in the same hotel, you must at least join me for a drink later, or I will begin to think that I have upset you in some way,’ Theo drawled in his deep dark voice. ‘Yet, as I recall, we parted with a handshake nine years ago.’

      Was she imagining the steely threat present in his soft drawl? She was about to bite back with an angry refusal but thought perhaps it would be wiser to agree. Willow’s long lashes lowered slightly over her eyes, masking her expression. One drink and a brief friendly chat before retiring for the night. How hard could that be? She did not dare take the chance of arousing his suspicions. She was returning to Devon in the morning and would never see Theo again. ‘Yes, okay, if you are still here when I get back, I’ll have a drink with you. But don’t spoil your evening waiting for me.’ And with this Willow turned and left the office.

      Ben Carlavitch was a very handsome man, but to Willow, ensconced in his suite with her publisher, the lawyer and Louise, he could have looked like Quasimodo and she still would not have noticed. She barely registered what was being discussed, and answered yes to everything, heaving a sigh of relief when the rest got down to discussing money. Her mind was in turmoil. Theo Kadros hadn’t changed much in nine years, except he looked harder and more cynical than she remembered him. He was right, they had parted with a handshake, but even now Willow could recall the fierce self-control it had taken to dismiss the man from her life.

      Dear God! Thinking about it now, she could not believe she had ever been that young or that naive. The morning after sleeping with Theo she had answered the telephone and all her romantic dreams had gone crashing to the ground. The man whose bed she had just left had been engaged to be married to someone else. He was an unscrupulous fiend; even his own sister had said he was a playboy.

      A few hours later, still in a blessedly merciful state of numb shock, Willow had been sitting in the departure lounge at Heathrow Airport waiting for the boarding announcement for her flight. The flight had already been delayed, and Willow had been anxious to get to her mother, and put the shameful events of the previous night behind her. Briefly closing her eyes, she had wondered how she could have been so stupid.

      ‘Willow.’

      Her eyes flew open in shock. Theo Kadros was standing in front of her like some dark avenging angel, and she was struck again by his sheer magnetism. But now, in the harsh light of day, the dream-like picture she had of the teasing, tender lover was blasted into oblivion by the ruthless, dynamic power of the man towering over her.

      Horrified, she leapt to her feet. She must have been crazy to even think for a minute that a sophisticated man like Theo Kadros could be interested in her for anything but a one-night stand. He was way out of her league, and the bitter realisation gave her the strength to face him. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked in a cool, polite voice.

      A wry smile curved Willow’s full lips as she remembered the look of dismay on Theo’s face as his gaze had roamed over her from the top of her head to her toes. She had dressed for comfort for the long-haul flight, in plain white cotton drawstring trousers and a baggy blue Her hair had been scraped back in two plaits and her face scrubbed free of make-up, and she’d known she’d looked nothing like the glamorous, scantily clad girl he had met the night before.

      ‘I could say… where are we going for the weekend?’ he drawled mockingly. ‘But then again…’ his dark eyes narrowed angrily on her pale face ‘… perhaps I just came to wish you a happy eighteenth birthday.’

      Still in shock, Willow ignored his comment about the weekend and thanked him politely, much to her own amazement.

      Stony-faced, he demanded to know why she’d never told him she was so young. She responded petulantly with, You never asked, and he grunted like a wounded bear. He then demanded to know why she had lied to him and let him think she was the new student in the house. Again she told him with quiet reason, ‘You asked me if I was staying and I was.’

      With his temper rising to boiling point, he pointed out that he would never have slept with her if he had known how young she was, or that she was a virgin. Embarrassed, Willow told him to keep his voice down. Then with a sudden flash of inspiration she informed him that she had simply planned it as something to do when she came of age, adding that she’d thought an older man would be better as he was likely to be more experienced.

      His rage barely contained, he demanded how she could treat the loss of her innocence so lightly. He tried to persuade her to keep in touch with him, by telephone or letter, and suggested they meet up again in India, anywhere. When that didn’t work he demanded curtly that she keep in touch with him just in case there were any repercussions from the night they had spent together.

      Not once did he mention his fiancée, and it was left to Willow to angrily point out, ‘Really, Theo, I think you are overdoing it a bit. I bet you didn’t say that to the woman who shared your bed the night before me.’ She caught the flash of something very much like guilt in his eyes, and knew Dianne had told the truth. Then, with a casualness that pleased her battered heart, she told him he had nothing to worry about, pointing out that he had used protection and that there was always the morning-after pill, implying she had taken one.

      At that he stiffened and took a hasty step back, his dark eyes hard and blank. ‘Well, then, you are right, there is obviously nothing more to be said.’ He made a throw-away gesture with his hand palm up. ‘Except I am glad I could be of service,’ he drawled

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