Rebecca Winters - Greek Affairs - Claiming His Child

Dreams came, hazy and somnolent, drifting through her unconscious mind, scarcely registering.

Except one.

She felt in her dream a shadow falling over her, and then a hand stroking down the bare length of her sun-warm spine with a slow, caressing touch. She murmured something, nestling her face into the cushion. Then dreamless sleep closed over her once more.

Beside the lounger Nikos stood, watching her motionless form. His face was shuttered.

Why had he just done that? Why had he succumbed to the impulse he’d experienced when he’d taken a break from his work, gone out on to the terrace outside his office to get a breath of fresh air, and seen that lissom figure cutting smoothly through the water, the sunlight shimmering on her barely veiled body? He should have gone straight back indoors. Instead, he had gone on watching her, until she’d glanced up and caught him watching.

Abruptly, annoyed that she’d seen him looking at her, he’d gone back to his office. But he hadn’t settled. And before ten minutes were up he’d pushed his chair back restlessly and gone out on the terrace again. She’d get out of the pool now, sunning herself.

His eyes had gone to her immediately. To the slender body, the sculpted perfection of her back, the narrow indent of her waist and the gentle swell of her hips, rounding down into long, gazelle legs.

He’d felt himself respond to the image, unable to look away, annoyed with himself for succumbing. Even more annoyed when he’d found he had started to walk down the flight of steps to the pool level, had strolled across to her, to see her in close-up, and worse, had succumbed to the impulse to lower a hand to her exposed nape, then glide it slowly, leisurely, down the elegant length of her spine.

She was like silk to touch …

He snapped his hand away.

Hell , this was not supposed to be happening. He shouldn’t be responding to the damn girl! He was supposed to be ignoring her, being wise, totally wise, to the allure she held for him!

Because anything else was folly. Folly and madness. He knew exactly what Ann Turner was, and despite the beautiful packaging the woman inside was venal and worthless.

If she’d thrown that cheque back in his face—told him that no power on earth could part her from her nephew—then he might have thought better of her! But, no, she hadn’t been able to take her eyes from the cheque …

For a long moment he simply stood, looking broodingly down on her sleeping, near naked form.

She really was lovely … so very tempting..

No. Cost him what it would, he must remember the only important thing about Ann Turner—she had sold her nephew to him for cash, and was here only because she was hoping for yet more money from the Theakis coffers. That was all he must keep in his mind.

Everything else was—irrelevant.

Abruptly, he turned away. There was work to be done. On swift, disciplined strides, he went back to his office, closing the doors to the terrace behind him with a decided snap.

Ann’s sleep ended abruptly some time later when Ari, energy levels recharged from his nap, emerged with Tina, like a miniature rocket in swimming trunks and armbands. A hectic water playtime ensued, followed by refreshments at the edge of the pool, where they were joined by Ari’s grandmother and Cousin Eupheme.

Sitting on a swing seat, Ari beside her, chattering away, Ann found herself thinking that although she had been here only such a short time, she fitted in as easily and naturally as if there had been no dark history keeping her away, parting her from Ari. But she knew exactly why she was feeling comfortably at ease now—because Nikos Theakis wasn’t there, casting his malign, intimidating shadow over everything.

She had to face him again over dinner, however. She’d come up from the nursery quarters with Tina, who was not with her fiancé that evening, after helping her put Ari to bed. Once again she’d read him to sleep, and as she’d dropped one last light kiss on his forehead she’d felt a lump form in her throat.

Carla’s son. Happy and secure.

Her memories swept back to the days of her own childhood, when her whole universe had been her older sister, to whom she had clung in the frightening, confused times they had both faced. In those fearful years where would she have been without Carla to hold her, to kiss her goodnight, to be all the family she had? And here, now, she was kissing Carla’s son goodnight—who had no mother of his own.

But Ari’s happy , she thought, fighting down the lump. He does not miss the parents he never had. He has his grandmother, and his uncle, and a kind and affectionate nanny. And now, for this brief time, he has me .

The briefness of her time with him clutched at her heart like a cold hand. Then anger stabbed in its stead. Damn Nikos Theakis! she thought. Damn his arrogance and his pride and his despicable double-standard that lets him help himself to as many women as he pleases, but allows him to sneer from his golden throne at my sister, who had to make her own way in the world the best she could! He had kept her apart for Andreas, cheated them of what little time they could have had together …

She sheered her mind away from the dark, familiar thoughts. Recriminations were pointless. The past was gone. Carla was gone, and so was Andreas. Only little Ari remained—and he was happy and content. That was enough. It would have to be.

There was no sign of Nikos Theakis when she and Tina first entered the salon, and Ann was relieved. Tina stepped out on to the terrace with Cousin Eupheme, who was telling her about some new plantings she was planning. Mrs Theakis called Ann to her side, smiling fondly at her.

‘I am so glad to see you here at last, my dear. I am more sorry than I can say that so much time has passed without your taking your rightful place in Ari’s life,’ Mrs Theakis said sadly. Her beautiful dark eyes shadowed. ‘I grieved so much,’ she went on slowly, ‘when Andreas was killed. It is the greatest tragedy of all—to lose a child. That is why, my dear, I begged you for the care of Andreas’ son. Holding his child in my arms, I knew God had given me back my own son. You gave me a gift, that day, that I can never repay—’

She stopped, and Ann could see she was near to tears. Impulsively, she took the older woman’s thin hand.

‘I gave him to you with all my heart,’ she said quietly.

There was a footfall, and a voice from the doorway spoke.

‘Gave?’ questioned Nikos Theakis.

The single word crawled like ice down Ann’s spine.

His mother seemed not to hear him. Her face lightened. ‘Nikki!’ she exclaimed. ‘There you are!’ She made to get to her feet, and immediately, attentively, her son was there. But even as he moved, he did not stint from casting a look at Ann that might have withered her to the spot.

For the remainder of the evening, until she could retire, as early as she decently could, Ann did her absolute best to minimise the presence of Nikos Theakis. But when, having finally escaped, she stood on the balcony of her room, gazing out over the beautiful nightscape of gardens, beach and sea, emotion seethed in her.

Why do I let him get to me? Why?

It made her angry with herself that she could not ignore him, could not blank him out. She knew what he thought of Carla, what he thought of her—and why should she care? The soft wind winnowed at her hair, lifting it from her nape, making her give a tiny shiver that was not from cold. Why should she care that when she felt that dark, brooding gaze resting on her resentment and intimidation was not all she felt …?

Why could she feel the power of that dark gaze?

The wind came again, playing over her body, sifting her hair with long, sensuous fingers …