Jacqueline Baird - Bought By The Greek Tycoon

Two hours later Jemma was back home in the small terraced house in Bayswater she had shared with Alan, curled up in bed.

In his penthouse across town, Luke Devetzi studied Theo with some frustration. His grandfather had never said a word on the drive home. On arriving back at the apartment, Theo had poured them both a nightcap and simply said the villa was not for sale and he was no longer bothered. Now he was sitting on the sofa, his leg once more propped up on a footstool. His dark eyes lacked their usual sparkle, and the expression on his face was one of resigned acceptance.

‘Let me get this straight: after all the fuss you have made trying to buy the villa on Zante, now you’re telling me you don’t care any more?’

‘I do care. It’s just that I have finally realised it’s impossible,’ Theo said quietly. ‘Jemma explained to me tonight that she can’t sell it because her aunt left it in trust for her and her children, and her children’s children.’

‘Trusts can be broken,’ Luke suggested. ‘You don’t have to give up yet.’

‘Maybe.’ Theo sighed. ‘But it can take years to wade through legal red tape, and even if I live long enough—well, you’ve met Jemma—can you honestly see a beautiful, compassionate woman like her being a widow for much longer? I can’t. She is young, and her husband has been dead for over two years.’

Luke sat down suddenly and almost choked on his whisky. So Jemma had not been married when he’d slept with her! ‘Two years, you say? Are you sure?’ he queried. He had made enough mistakes with Jemma, and he was determined to make no more. He could almost laugh at how wrong he’d been about her—except that it wasn’t funny. His grandfather had lost his dream, and he had bedded and then insulted the sexiest woman he had ever met.

‘Yes, she told me tonight as we were leaving. She may not realise it yet, but she has done her mourning. Unless all English men are blind, some guy will snap her up and she will almost certainly be married and with child long before the trust can be broken. It’s hopeless, and I am going to bed.’ Picking up his stick, he rose to his feet and hobbled up the steps. Stopping at the top, he turned and said, ‘Milo and I are going back to Greece in the morning. Goodnight.’ And he left.

Luke saw the defeated droop to Theo’s shoulders as he left the room. He hated that his grandfather had been disappointed, but he had to admit the old man’s assessment was right—getting the villa did look pretty hopeless now.

He saw again in his mind’s eye the beautiful Jemma, so calm and considerate with Theo, but so cool with him. His body hardened as he recalled her naked body in every minute detail—the silken softness of her skin, the sweet taste of her rose-tipped breasts, the almost dreamlike quality of their lovemaking which had grown into a white-hot, all-consuming passion.

Restlessly he stood up again, about to pour another whisky. But he stopped. He didn’t need a drink; he needed to think. Maybe if he approached Jemma personally and offered her an enormous amount of money to break the trust she would agree. With the exception of his grandmother, he had never met a woman yet who did not love money. And if plan A failed—though he doubted it would—he needed a plan B. He was thirty-seven, past the age most men married. Perhaps it was time to take the plunge and marry. And if by marrying Jemma and producing a child that would also be Theo’s geat-grandchild to inherit the villa, then his grandfather would secure his heart’s desire—to keep the villa in the family—and that was all the better. Plus, Luke wanted Jemma back in his bed—and he was a man who always got what he wanted.

There was only one huge flaw in plan B. Jemma wouldn’t give him the time of day because, apart from him virtually throwing her off his yacht a year ago, she knew he was dating her stepsister. Settling back down on the sofa, his broad brow creased in a frown, he replayed the events of the evening and the information he had gleaned in the last few days. His frown vanished and a predatory smile curved his sensuous mouth. His grey eyes were gleaming with the light of challenge as he rose to his feet and headed for bed. His mind was made up, his course of action determined.

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