Sara Wood - The Kyriakis Baby

It had sounded perfectly feasible back in England. The route had been mapped, John had returned from his recce with an optimistic report on secluded coves and rarely used roads. But… She bit her lip. If she wasn’t strong enough—if she fell ill…

Horribly daunted by what lay ahead, she passed a shaking hand over her forehead as Leon slid into the driver’s seat. Doubts multiplied. If she lacked energy she’d never cope. Lexi would feel abandoned and bewildered.

Her breath caught in a choking anguish in her throat. The thought of failure made her feel sick.

‘You look shot to pieces. I think you need cheap digs like a hole in the head,’ he commented shrewdly, starting up the car.

‘A luxury hotel would be preferable, but beyond my funds,’ she retorted, wallowing crossly in the ambitious thought of a soft bed, room service and an en suite bathroom.

‘Wait and see what I can come up with,’ he said, sounding smug. ‘If you don’t like where I take you, we’ll ring your lawyer and get you to his rat-infested hovel instead.’

‘Promise,’ she mumbled, almost past caring about rats as long as there was a mattress to rest her weary body.

She let out a long and whispering sigh and felt his dark glance on her parted lips.

‘On my father’s head,’ he said softly. ‘Take a break for now,’ he added, as if soothing a fractious child. ‘Sleep. I’ll wake you when we arrive.’

Emma did her best to disobey but felt her heavy lids closing like shutters. Yet Leon’s image stayed to torment her remorselessly: the classic Greek profile, thick lashes concealing liquid black eyes, patrician nose and achingly sensual mouth. Before getting into the car he’d removed his jacket, his open-necked cream shirt moulding to his muscular back and torso.

Her breath quickened. He was dangerously attractive. Tension hung in the air so thickly she could feel it. Even from a short distance away his magnetism poured over her like a relentless tide till she felt she might drown beneath it.

But why was he being considerate? It would amuse him to see her living in the hovel he’d so mockingly described. She racked her brains to determine why he was going out of his way to find her decent accommodation. And could only come up with one answer. For some reason, as yet unknown to her, it suited him.

And therefore his offer should be rejected. Hovel it was, then, she thought glumly.

Music filtered drowsily into her subconscious. Gentle zithers, a haunting refrain. She felt herself relaxing and began to surrender to desperately needed sleep.

Lexi was close, she thought dreamily. Almost in her arms. Another huge sigh of pleasure was expelled from her soft lips and, although she slept, her hands unconsciously sought refuge at her wounded left breast.

Leon shook his head to clear it. He’d be fine if he kept remembering that there was vengeance in her soul. She’d do anything to hurt him. And Lexi was the weapon she’d choose.

He knew he couldn’t keep mother and daughter apart. Eventually the court would be faced with Emma’s doting mother act and grant access. His only hope was if he could convince them she was not a reformed character.

He glanced at her then scowled at the road ahead, trying to eradicate the sight of her lush breasts swelling beneath her dress. He ached from wanting her. But that was out of the question.

He dragged his mind back to the problem. Emma would visit Lexi and one day make an abduction attempt. He thought of the vulnerable little Lexi being hauled across Europe with two strangers and his chest expanded with uncontainable rage. Sefton was a creep. He didn’t trust him an inch.

He had to keep Emma away. And to do that, he needed clear evidence that she wasn’t fit to go near his niece and that any contact would be harmful.

His pulses quickened. An idea was forming in his mind. One that would kill two birds with one stone.

He too had a weapon. Sex.

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