JACQUELINE BAIRD - Mediterranean Tycoons - Masterful & Married - Marriage At His Convenience / Aristides' Convenient Wife / The Billionaire's Blackmailed Bride

‘You mean all this time your grandfather has thought you and I are a couple? But that’s impossible…’ But was it? she asked herself. Lucas had made no approach to her until they had returned to England, and she had never met his father again until tonight.

Then she remembered their very first dinner date. When Lucas had invited her to the villa, he had also asked her to do him a favour. He knew she was close to Tim and Spiro, and he had asked her to use her influence on the pair to tone down their behaviour in front of his father when they were all at the villa. The old man was rather old-fashioned that way. Of course, Amber had said yes.

Now it all made a horrible kind of sense. Lucas would do anything for his father, including marrying a suitable rich little Greek girl. Spiro was right…

‘Think about it, Amber. Has Lucas ever taken you anywhere in public where Grandfather was likely to hear about it? No. While you thought you were building a relationship, a home, with a thoroughly modern man, Lucas had no such intentions.’

Amber’s face was bleak, her mouth bitter and twisted as the full import of Spiro’s revelation sank in. She tried to speak and found herself shivering compulsively. She could not believe she had been so blind, so stupid…

AMBER knew once she let the first tear fall that she would never be able to stop. Kicking off her shoes, she locked the door and padded across the polished wood floor to the spiral staircase. Grasping the rail, she ascended to the galleried sleeping area like an old woman. Spiro had asked her to go back to his place, but she’d refused. He had done enough for her for one night, she thought bitterly.

Stripping off her clothes, she walked into the huge bathroom. She glanced at the circular white marble Jacuzzi sunk into the floor, and quickly away as too many memories flooded back. Skirting the bath, she stepped into the double shower. She turned the tap on full, and stood under the power jets and let the water pound her slender body. She closed her eyes, but she could not block out the image of Lucas naked on his knees in the shower with her. Soaping every inch of her tender flesh from the tips of her toes to her head in what she had thought was complete adoration.

Why? Why had Lucas done this to her? her mind screamed, and the iron control she had exerted over her emotions all evening finally broke. The tears slowly squeezed from her eyes to slide down her cheeks. The trickle became a flood as she wept out her pain and grief, the tears mingling with the powerful spray until Amber fell to her knees, her arms wrapped around her middle, her head bowed, completely broken, defeated…

Her body shivering, Amber slowly opened her eyes. She was huddled on the floor of the shower. When had the hot water run out and turned to icy cold? She had no idea. She was freezing, her limbs numb. Slowly she staggered to her feet, turned off the tap and stepped out of the shower. Pulling a large bath towel from the rail, she wrapped it toga-style around her shaking body. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror above the vanity basin—her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, her skin pale and cold as death.

She was still wearing the emerald necklace and earrings. Carefully she removed both, and, walking out of the bathroom, she dropped them on the dressing table, then pulled out the seat and sat down. Picking up the hair-dryer, she switched it on and methodically began drying her long hair.

Lucas had loved to see her naked with her hair smoothed silkily over her breasts. Her eyes filled with moisture at the memory, and, leaping to her feet, she staggered across the room and flung herself down on the bed. She turned her face into the pillow, shaken by another violent storm of weeping.

When it was over she felt curiously calm, and as it was just dawn she got to her feet and began to dress. She did not bother with a bra, she had no need for one, but slipped into skimpy white lace briefs. She withdrew grey-and blue-checked trousers from the wardrobe and a V-neck button-through matching blue cashmere cardigan, and put them on. She slipped her feet into soft leather loafers and descended the spiral staircase. She crossed the vast expanse of the living area to the kitchen, and opened the door just as the first rays of sun shone though the window.

Amber switched on the kettle, made herself a cup of instant coffee, and, taking it back with her into the living room, she sat down on one of the soft-cushioned sofas. She picked up the remote control for the television and switched it on. It was the twenty-four-hour news channel. She watched and waited…

Amber heard the key turn in the lock, and, switching off the television, she stood up and slowly turned to face the door.

To the man entering the room, she looked cool, calm and collected, and beautiful. ‘Amber, I am glad you are here. I thought you might have gone back with Spiro after last night,’ Lucas said smoothly, closing the door behind him and striding towards her.

Amber watched him approach. He was casually dressed in faded denim jeans, a cream-coloured roll-neck sweater and tan leather jacket. His black hair was windswept; he had never looked more attractive to her, or more out of her reach.

Her heart hardened against his masculine appeal. ‘Why would I do that, Lucas? This is my home,’ she queried coolly. A bone-numbing anger had replaced her earlier grief.

‘Good, I hoped you would be sensible.’ His long legs slightly splayed, he stopped about a foot away from her, his dark eyes sweeping over her long hair falling loose to her waist, and back up, lingering for a second too long on the proud thrust of her breasts against the soft cashmere sweater.

Amber saw his pupils darken, and the sudden tension in his broad frame. He was not immune to her, that much was obvious, and it simply fuelled her anger. ‘Sensible is not the word I would have chosen,’ she declared bitterly. ‘I don’t feel in the least sensible after last night, I feel madder than hell, and demand an explanation. I thought you were my boyfriend, my partner. We live together, for God’s sake!’ she cried, aware of the consuming bile rising in her throat as she studied his hard features.

Abruptly Lucas stepped back a pace, and she had the satisfaction of seeing his face darken with suppressed anger, or was it embarrassment? He didn’t appreciate being called to account for his behaviour. ‘I agree,’ he said curtly. ‘And I apologise—last night should never have happened. Christina should not have told you we were getting engaged next weekend. But then you should not have been at the party. You have Spiro to thank for last night’s fiasco, not I.’

‘Oh, no, you can’t blame this on Spiro, you lying swine,’ she shot back furiously. ‘You told me you could not get back from New York until Saturday—pressure of work, you said. What a joke!’ Blazing golden eyes clashed with his and what she saw in their obsidian depths sent an icy shiver down her spine.

‘I did not lie. I said I could not meet you until Saturday, which was perfectly true. I had a prior engagement for Friday evening,’ he drawled cynically.

‘An engagement for the rest of your life, if Christina is to be believed. I have never been so embarrassed or humiliated in all my life, and I want to know why? You owe me that much,’ Amber demanded, her voice rising stridently.

Lucas stepped forward and closed a powerful hand over both of hers. ‘Calm down and listen to me,’ he snapped back, his black eyes hard on her lovely face. ‘I had no desire to embarrass or hurt you in any way. I had every intention of telling you our affair was over before announcing my betrothal. I have never in my life begun a sexual relationship with a woman without first divesting myself of her predecessor. It is a rule of mine.’