The Kyriakis Baby
SARA WOOD
Emma and Greek tycoon Leon Kyriakis had once shared an intense and passionate love, but their relationship had ended abruptly.Heartbroken, Emma had married Leon's younger brother on the rebound. But she'd paid dearly: she'd been framed for fraud. Unable to prove her innocence, widow Emma had seen her baby daughter taken away - by Leon.Emma vowed to do anything to claim her daughter back - even if that meant she would have to share a bed with Leon once more.
“You’re saying that for Lexi’s sake, you’d risk being used for sex?” Leon asked.
It wasn’t like that, she told herself. It wasn’t just sex. Maybe that was his attitude to her at the moment, but she’d convince him of her innocence, and then his feelings would change.
It was a huge gamble. But worth going for.
“If that’s the price,” she mumbled crossly.
Her gaze was fixed with unlikely intensity on the floor. The atmosphere burned around Emma as, presumably, Leon battled to stop himself laughing out loud.
“Agreed,” he said when she’d abandoned all hope of an answer.
They’re the men who have everything—except a bride…
Wealth, power, charm—what else could a heart-stoppingly handsome tycoon need? In the GREEK TYCOONS miniseries you have already been introduced to some gorgeous Greek multimillionaires who are in need of wives.
Now it’s the turn of favorite author Sara Wood, with her attention-grabbing romance The Kyriakis Baby.
This tycoon has met his match, and he’s decided he has to have her…whatever that takes!
The Kyriakis Baby
Sara Wood
My thanks to Maria Doumas for all her help, and to Richie and Heidi for providing me with the essential element of my research on little Lexi—my two-year-old granddaughter Hannah!
Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
PROLOGUE
EMMA sat staring into space, her eyes huge with fear. Her solicitor would come, she told herself. He’d have the answer. He must.
The question wouldn’t go away. It was driving her mad. Over and over again it hammered into her aching head.
Where is my baby?
She broke her numb silence with a whimpering moan of despair, a thin, poignant figure drawn in on herself, a woman lost in her own dark world.
Only two weeks ago, she’d stood petrified with fear in the dock and had heard the foreman of the jury pronounce her guilty. It had all been a blur from then on. At Leyton Women’s Prison, a note had been handed to her from her brother-in-law, Leon. It had been brutal in its simplicity. ‘I have your child.’
She’d heard nothing since. Her baby, Alexandra, had vanished off the face of the earth.
From that moment on, life had been suspended for Emma. Perhaps she had eaten at some time—she wouldn’t know. And sleep had come only when her exhausted body could take no more of the waking hell. Even then she’d been plagued by nightmares from which she’d woken sobbing, and drenched in a cold sweat.
That morning, preparing for visiting time, she’d noticed with sudden shock that the months of stress had etched a network of fine lines around her mouth. Furrows scoured her high forehead and a deep notch had been excavated between her brows.
Leon had done this to her.
In the cheap mirror she’d seen that her blonde hair was now lank instead of thick and lustrous. Emma had grimaced, had scraped the lifeless hanks back into a severe pony-tail and had fastened them carelessly with a rubber band, unconcerned that spikes of hair stuck out at all angles.
She looked awful. So what? Who was there to see? She just didn’t care. Nothing mattered any more. How could it? Alexandra was her baby and she’d been spirited away. And she was just six months old.
Her baby. The focus of her entire existence. Something miraculous, salvaged from a terrible marriage to Taki. Sweet, dimpled little Lexi, whose chuckles and sunny nature could make her smile despite her worries and who’d roused in her such a fierce and tender passion that she’d been shaken by its profundity.
And now Lexi had disappeared. Sitting disconsolately at her appointed place, she took a dog-eared photo from her pocket and stared at it with empty eyes.
Her thoughts tortured her. What happened, she wondered miserably, when a baby was abruptly parted from its mother? Would she eat? Would her child be bewildered and upset—or would anyone’s arms, anyone’s smile be acceptable? She thought of Lexi, sick from crying, and groaned.
‘Oh, my baby!’
She lifted a frail hand to stifle a sob. The action made her vaguely aware that people were stirring around her, their voices rising above the normal subdued mutter that was normally adopted in the large visitors’ hall.
Dragged from her inner torment, she lifted her head and gloomily followed the source of interest. And instantly she froze, transfixed by the man who stood in the distant doorway.
Not her solicitor. Someone tall, dark and broad and undeniably Greek, his sharply tailored city suit and impeccable grooming quite incongruous amid the plethora of T-shirts, jogging pants and designer trainers.
Leon. The unfeeling brute who’d abducted her baby.
The pain in her chest intensified as a harsh protest scraped its way from her throat. He’d come to gloat! To read her the riot act, to talk about her lack of morals and his right to take Alexandra.
Right! she seethed. What about her right to justice? Her rights of motherhood? Why had she automatically lost her rights as a human being?
Battle-ready, Emma drew her weary body upright, her eyes glittering with anger. She’d have him arrested! He was a fool to have come…
The thudding of her heart seemed to trip and falter as logic poured cold water on her impetuous thoughts. Leon was no fool. If he was here, it was to say something important. What could that be?
Her fevered imagination quickly provided answers. Her baby was dead. A cot death. An accident. An unidentified sickness…
She gasped, and somehow she was on her feet, catapulted by an unknown force that had flung her chair violently to the ground. Leon’s eyes swerved to meet hers and he recoiled in shock, as if her appearance appalled him. But Emma was way beyond personal pride.
‘Is she dead?’ she yelled hysterically across the vast hall.
Aghast, he shook his head and mouthed one word. ‘No!’
She swayed, her whole body sagging in relief. A warder roughly ordered her to sit but her knees were already giving way beneath her and if a fellow prisoner hadn’t righted her chair Emma would have collapsed in a crumpled heap onto the floor.
Her baby was alive. Alive! ‘Thank you, God. Thank you,’ she whispered emotionally.
She trembled all over, her knees juddering against the low metal table. Hands as shaky as a drug addict’s covered her eyes. She knew she couldn’t take much more.
I must stay calm, she thought in panic. To be more controlled and rational. OK, maybe restraint had seldom featured in her impulsive and passionate nature and her life had been splattered with spectacular foot-in-mouth mistakes—but she had to find some semblance of control. Leon must be persuaded to surrender Lexi.
All her instincts were urging her to hurl abuse and accusations at Leon, to repeat the terrible things she’d privately called him over the past nightmare days. After that, she thought grimly, it would be a nice twist to get him thrown in jail.
But a rare caution warned her against this. He held the welfare of her baby in his hands. Perhaps only he knew where Lexi was. If she annoyed him, she might never see her daughter again.
Her bitter scowl of disappointment would have unnerved him if he hadn’t been engrossed in talking to a warder. She glared. Surrounded by grey and depressed people, he looked indecently fit and vigorous as he finished his conversation and threaded his way carefully between the seated prisoners and their visitors.
It seemed to Emma that his whole manner suggested he was concerned that any contact with them might contaminate him irrevocably with some vile disease.
Yes, she thought, near to choking with indignation, this place is a terrible dump! The atmosphere is rank, the bare walls are grimmer than Alcatraz and the clank of keys and clang of gates are two of the most chilling sounds on earth! And she, sweet heaven, she would have to suffer it every wretched day of her life for the next five years!
The injustice made her head spin. She was innocent. Innocent!
Aching with anger she tortured herself with the milestones she could miss in five years of little Lexi’s life. Her baby’s first words, her first steps, the momentous day when she’d start school. And daily cuddles. Smiles, gurgles, small loving arms…
She gave a shuddering sob. Those joys were her right as a mother! This was her baby, her very flesh and blood, and the person she cared for above all others. How dared he play hide-and-seek with her child!
Resolutions scattered. Uncontainable fury brought her to her feet again when he had come to a mere yard or two’s distance of her trembling figure.
‘Where is my baby? What have you done with her?’ she demanded fiercely.
‘Sit down.’ Leon snapped.
His outstretched hand gave an imperious wave and, to her amazement, it halted the two frowning warders bearing down on her. Authority, she thought with glowering resentment. He has it in spades. Well, not with me!
‘Answer my question, damn you!’ she insisted grimly, remaining on her feet out of sheer cussedness.
Tense, and smouldering with a volcanic ferocity, Leon slid into the seat at her table. And yet even there he still managed to dominate the room, perhaps because when seated his height and breadth seemed more than that of the average man. Emma scowled. Nothing about the handsome Leon could ever be remotely termed average.
The blue-black of his hair was more intense, the density of his dark and expressive eyes more mesmerising than any she’d ever seen. The people who met him were always disturbed, intimidated or attracted, depending on their sex and their connection with him. But no one ever forgot the charismatic Leon Kyriakis.
And nor had she. Not one moment of their lovemaking. Despite everything, she felt his inexorable sexual pull now and wilted at the sheer strength of his strong-boned and finely chiselled face, and the curl of his electrifyingly sensual mouth that once she’d kissed and tasted so avidly, so lovingly. Until his utterly callous betrayal.
The furnace in her loins fuelled her loathing as his burning eyes captured her gaze. For a second or two a crackling hostility shot between them, heating up the atmosphere till she felt her skin too must be on fire. And then his ink-black eyes silvered with lethal contempt.
‘Sit down, Emma,’ he repeated harshly, ‘or you’ll be back in your cell with your knitting and your mug of cocoa and I’ll be halfway to the airport.’
Alarmed, she promptly obeyed, her head lowered in anger while she curbed a wealth of tart answers. She could have kicked herself. She’d known she had to handle him carefully. And yet she’d stupidly waded in with all guns blazing. Not much of a kid-gloves approach, was it?
Calm. Restraint. Operate brain before mouth. But how, when violent emotions constantly erupted within her? She missed her baby desperately and her greatest fear was that Lexi might be pining too. No one else knew her little ways. Nobody could understand her baby as she could.
Tears suddenly blurred her vision. Knuckling them away miserably, she looked up with dead, hopeless eyes, all the agony in her heart showing plainly on her ashen face.
‘I can’t bear this any longer! If you have a shred of pity, you must tell me! Where is my baby?’ she implored.
Leon immediately edged his chair back, frowning down at the table. ‘Safe.’
He cleared his throat and fiddled with his cuff, apparently annoyed that it was showing a centimetre less than its twin.
‘Thank God,’ she whispered.
She swallowed ineffectively. There was a solid lump blocking her throat and she gagged on it, desperate to clear it so she could speak. Seeing this, he pushed a glass of water towards her and she stared, oddly surprised at the contrast between their two hands.
His was tanned, broad and virtually pulsing with life. Hers looked a ghastly white, just skin and bone, as if, she thought deliriously, she was in a living death.
She clasped the glass as if grabbing a lifeline but her hand shook too much when she raised it and she abruptly put it back on the table. No histrionics. Reasoned argument. For her baby’s sake…
The hard lump eased a little and she could swallow. ‘How…how is she?’
Her voice quavered and his mouth immediately contracted into a hard line. What had she said to annoy him? Emma felt awash with terror in case he lost his not inconsiderable temper and refused to listen to her.
‘Don’t do this to me. I must know,’ she begged wretchedly.
‘Alexandra is well and happy.’
He spoke in a stiff undertone and she leaned far across the table, frantic to hear every word he uttered. Leon seemed to shrink back as if she was invading his space. He loathed her, she thought dully. How was she to win him round?
She bit her soft lower lip intently, anxious to hear about her beloved baby. ‘Is she very upset? Does she…cry much?’ she said jerkily.
‘No.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Don’t lie to me!’ She flung the words at him. ‘She must!’
‘If I say she doesn’t, then it’s true,’ he answered irritably. ‘She’ll cry for a while when she’s tired or hungry or needing comfort but she soon stops. Otherwise she’s content. I am not a liar. I come from an honest people,’ he pointed out, forcing the words fiercely through his tightly clenched teeth.
‘I’m honest too. I don’t deserve to be in prison, accused of fraud,’ she hurled.
‘Such injustice.’ He tutted, his expression cynical and disbelieving.
Emma realised that it was no use trying to persuade him that she was whiter than snow. He had her down as a criminal and that was that.
‘Lexi’s OK, then?’ she persisted in a plaintive tone. ‘She’s eating properly?’
‘How many times do I have to tell you?’ he said irritably. ‘She’s absolutely fine. Use your common sense. Why would I allow any harm to come to her?’
Emma paused to consider this. In her experience Greeks loved children and had a way with them. Lexi was probably being spoiled rotten.
A twinge, as sharp as a knife, twisted in her breast with such force that her hand lifted to ease it. For her daughter’s sake she felt relieved that all was well, but she felt more bereft than ever.
Maybe she wasn’t necessary to Lexi’s well-being at all. Her child could exist without her. But could she exist without her child? Her heart went cold and she shuddered, sliding her thin arms around her shivering body, consoling herself with the fact that only she knew all the tiny things that made Lexi truly content.
‘She does have her teddy bear, doesn’t she?’ she began shakily. ‘And I don’t suppose you realise that she needs her yellow blanket—’
‘It’s with her as we speak. I removed everything from your house which looked remotely as if it belonged to Lexi,’ he retorted.
Emma gaped, astounded at his thoroughness. ‘You planned this!’ she accused hotly. ‘You knew exactly what you would do if the jury pronounced me guilty—’
‘Of course I did. I couldn’t allow my late brother’s child to remain in the care of a stranger,’ he snapped.
‘She’s my neighbour. Lexi knows her. It was only temporary, anyway,’ she argued. ‘I fully expected to be free—’
‘And what did you organise if not?’ he asked sardonically.
‘If there was a problem, my neighbour was to bring her to the mother-and-baby unit here.’
He still hadn’t answered the question. Where was her daughter? Suddenly she had a flash of fear, picturing her baby abandoned outside in a car, or in her buggy by the prison entrance where anyone could abduct her… She drew in a choking breath.
‘And what about your babysitting arrangements? If you’re here,’ she said jerkily, her voice rising in panic, ‘who’s looking after Lexi now?’
His eyes flickered. ‘Marina. My—’
But she’d got there before him. ‘Your wife!’ she said breathily.
Emma sat stunned. Of course. Who else? she thought dully. And then she noticed something strange. There was a sliver of pain knifing across the dark depths of his eyes and bitterness had drawn his mouth into a hard line.
He wasn’t happy, she realised with a shock. Pangs of half-remembered love touched her shuttered heart. She’d adored him once. They’d been students together and he’d been everything to her. But one day, totally out of the blue, she’d seen him emerging from a local restaurant with a drop-dead gorgeous blonde on his arm. Her world had disintegrated rapidly.
‘An engagement party,’ the obliging Greek waiter had said, his apron stuffed with tips from the affluent, laughing crowd.
The lintel above the entrance where they were posing for photographs had born a banner with the elaborately printed legend, Leon and Marina. It had been emblazoned with hearts and love knots. The waiter picked up a discarded menu with the same design and the appalled Emma had known that this must have been planned for some time.
Tears of rage and misery had rendered her speechless. He’d been organising his wedding while vowing he loved her…even while he was sleeping with her!
‘Leon!’ she’d cried rawly.
He’d looked directly at her and turned a deathly white. ‘Emma!’
All eyes had been upon her then. Clearly appalled that she’d found him out, he’d spoken to a younger man at his side who’d come over and introduced himself as Leon’s brother, Taki.
‘He’s the Kyriakis heir, she’s the Christofides heiress,’ Taki had explained gently as he’d driven her home. ‘Our families have been linked for generations. Don’t take this personally,’ he’d said soothingly, when she’d continued to sob. ‘It’s how we do things. We need sex so we find a woman who is amenable. Then we marry a more suitable virgin.’
The humiliating words dug deep. She’d been used as a whore! Bought presents, taken out to dinner…and in return he’d pillaged her heart and soul and body!
Broken-hearted, her self-esteem at rock bottom, she’d relied increasingly on the attentive, kind Taki. His respect for her had been deeply touching. Eventually she’d succumbed to Taki’s charm offensive and married him, unaware of his fatal need to outdo his rival brother.
She gave a grimace. Incredibly, Taki had believed that Leon would be jealous of his marriage to her. But why, when she had nothing—and the elegant, shopaholic Marina had breeding, wealth and social position?
Her heart thudded in alarm. This was the woman who was now looking after her child! What, she thought with uncharacteristic sourness, did a clothes-horse on legs know about such things?
Her brows beetled together in a fierce scowl. ‘Your wife had better be the Mary Poppins of child care—or you’ll have me to reckon with!’ she muttered.
‘Marina has a daughter of her own,’ he drawled crushingly.
She felt she’d been stabbed in the lungs. Leon had a child. ‘Bully for you both,’ she cried, finding her breath again. ‘Then, you don’t need mine.’
‘Damn right, I don’t.’
Her mouth opened in astonishment. He didn’t even want her darling Lexi. ‘Then, why take her?’ she asked, aghast.
He looked down his patrician nose at her. ‘I had no choice.’
‘No…choice?’ She spluttered the words incoherently.
Leon looked grim. ‘She needs a home. She needs us.’
‘Me. She needs me. I’m her mother,’ she quavered.
‘Not much of one.’
‘I’m terrific.’
‘Matter of opinion.’
‘I’ll get out on appeal—’
‘I think not. The evidence was clear-cut and damning. Get used to this situation, Emma,’ he said sharply. ‘Serve your time—’
‘I will if I must, unfair though it is. I could bear anything if I had my baby back.’
‘Out of the question.’
Incensed, she banged the table and knocked over the glass of water which spilled onto her lap. Leon produced a handkerchief but she refused it, too caught up in her bid for her child to care that her dress was wet through.
‘If you’re a father,’ she said, hoarse with emotion, ‘then think how you’d feel if your child was taken from you.’
Astonishingly, his gaze became cynical, as if that wouldn’t be hard to bear. He has no heart, she thought bleakly. Her beloved baby wasn’t even wanted. How could he feel like that? The only Greek in the world who didn’t like children and he had to snatch her baby.
‘It’s happening all the time,’ he observed obliquely. ‘People split up, children end up with one of the parents—’
‘But I’m the remaining parent,’ she pointed out, barely clinging to sanity. Why couldn’t he understand what Lexi meant to her? She had no one else in the world. ‘You have no right to abduct my child. I could have you arrested.’
‘That would be extremely unwise,’ he said with quiet menace.
She tensed in alarm. ‘Why?’
‘It wouldn’t get your child back.’
‘Maybe not,’ she muttered bitterly, giving her wet dress a shake, ‘but it would bring a big grin to my face and play merry hell with your social life.’
His breath hissed in and he fixed her with eyes as cold as charity. ‘You’d do that to score points off me?’ he enquired softly.
Her desolation intensified. Of course not. She’d gain nothing—other than a useless, petty satisfaction—by giving Leon grief. And she’d ruin her chances of finding Lexi.
Her chest seemed to tighten with despair. ‘I’d do anything, anything to get my own child back where she rightfully belongs,’ she declared jerkily.
There was a lift of a black-winged eyebrow. ‘You’re at a slight disadvantage being in prison,’ he observed.
She flushed, a hectic colour burning two scarlet spots on her pale, bony cheeks.
‘Have you no heart? No soul? She should be with me—’
‘Alexandra might be legally yours but that’s as far as it goes,’ he said sternly. ‘You just aren’t fit to be her mother.’
‘That’s not fair,’ she seethed, outraged at the slur.
‘Fair? You dare to speak of fairness?’ he rasped, his voice shaking with barely contained fury as he struggled to keep the volume down. ‘How can you sit there claiming to be as innocent as a Madonna? You systematically defrauded members of my family and our lifelong friends and business acquaintances, and left them penniless,’ he hissed.
His big fists clenched on the table and she stared at them, suddenly frightened of his intense passion.
‘But that’s the point—I didn’t,’ she protested, her voice wobbling alarmingly. ‘It…it wasn’t me—’
‘You disgust me!’ he scathed. ‘Have you any idea of the consequences of your crime in our close-knit society? Our family bank here in London was seen as the safest place this side of Fort Knox. People relied on us. Trusted us. No wonder Taki got drunk! His own wife had destroyed his family business, his family honour and innocent lives. He’d lost his job and his own honour—’
‘Honour!’ she choked.
‘Yes! Ever heard of the word?’ he taunted.
‘You hypocrite!’ she said breathily, forgetting Taki’s dishonesty and attacking Leon’s instead. ‘How can you sit there and talk of honour when you forgot to mention your engagement to another woman while we were together?’
That went home. He recoiled as if she’d slapped him, his skin suddenly taut and sickly pale.
‘That was a matter of honour—’
‘Yes, I know. Honouring some long-standing family arrangement,’ she said scornfully. ‘You used me for sex—and you talk of honour.’
‘Don’t try to wriggle out of this,’ Leon retorted, white-lipped. ‘The truth is that Taki was appalled at what you’d done. And he got so paralytic that some bastard mugged him and left him to die in the gutter. Your actions caused his death.’
Frozen in horror at Leon’s twisted interpretation of the facts, she tried to speak. But his accusation had stunned her with its cruelty and all she could do was to slur helplessly, ‘It’s a lie! I’m…I’m…’
‘Guilty on all counts,’ Leon finished in disgust. ‘Now, I hope you understand that I feel I owe you no sympathy. My family means everything to me and you ripped it apart with your evil scheming. You destroyed my only brother—’
‘No—’
‘Are you denying,’ he went on relentlessly, ‘that you cold-bloodedly married him out of petty revenge—?’
‘I loved him—’
‘Liar! He said you’d asked for a divorce.’
Emma bit her lip hard. She hadn’t wanted to split her family up. But she’d had no choice. Leon knew nothing of the agonising that had gone before her painful decision.
‘Y-yes, but—’
‘Don’t bother to find excuses,’ Leon said, growling. ‘Taki had served his purpose. You’d seen a way to make me pay for marrying Marina and you took it. Well, congratulations. You succeeded in making my life hell.’ His eyes glittered. ‘Forgive me,’ he ground out through his teeth, ‘if I return the compliment.’
She gave a low moan and buried her face in her hands, all hope virtually abandoned. His Greek heritage made him proud and hot-blooded and deeply devoted to his family. In his eyes, she’d harmed that family. And so he wanted to destroy her. And how better than to take away the baby she adored?
Panic and despair filled her head as defeat stared back at her. But she knew she had to rouse herself and make one last attempt to convince Leon that he’d jumped to all the wrong conclusions.
‘You must listen to me,’ she begged. ‘You’ve got it all wrong. I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of. I’m truly innocent—’
‘Sure. You, and everyone in here,’ he mocked.
‘No, I am—’
‘You knew what was happening,’ he said snarling. ‘You were the financial director—’
‘That’s the point, I wasn’t, it was in name only I swear—’
‘Stop it!’ he snapped furiously. ‘You’ve perjured yourself enough.’
‘Leon,’ she mumbled, ‘you’re not giving me a chance—’
‘Did you give Taki a chance? Or those people who are now living on pittances instead of healthy pensions? My family will have to pull out all the stops to ensure they don’t suffer, thanks to you. It could take us years.’
It was hopeless. He was implacable. ‘How can we have become such enemies?’ she asked miserably. ‘Once…’
The rest of her words died in her throat. His eyes blazed with such an intense hatred that every muscle in her body turned to water, her hands feebly clawing at the table for support as she struggled to stay in her seat and not slide to the floor in a boneless heap.
Leon’s face suddenly loomed close to hers and she found herself pinned in place by the anguish that ripped at his face.
‘Once! Once we were lovers,’ he said in a terrible, raw whisper. ‘My passion matched yours, my hands caressed your body. My lips knew yours, our bodies pulsed together—’
‘Leon—’ she said, breathily brokenly, unable to bear any more.
He touched her face, his fingers trembling with a barely contained passion. She assumed it to be a shuddering anger and shrank back in distress.
Leon’s nostrils flared. ‘I’d never have come within a mile of you if I’d realised the depths of your viciousness—that you could blame Taki for the fraud.’
‘It was him,’ she insisted hopelessly.
‘Pity the jury didn’t agree with you,’ he countered.
There was a sudden silence between them. They were at deadlock. Emma gave up. Her late husband’s betrayal was no longer important.
Alexandra’s future was. The next few moments could affect her child’s life for ever. Sick and weak, she rallied the last drop of energy in her body.
‘Shun me,’ she declared, her voice shaking with emotion. ‘Hate me, think what you like. Forget I ever lived if that pleases you.’ Panic rose within her like an uncontrollable flood and she raised a tearful face in one last passionate plea. ‘But let me have the child I love.’
‘Not in a million years,’ he replied coldly. ‘I won’t let Taki’s daughter be brought up in an English prison by a callous, cold-blooded female. She’s out of your reach now…not even in this country.’
Abruptly he rose to go. Emma couldn’t speak, could barely think for shock. Her beloved Lexi was in Greece! A cracked sound filtered through her trembling lips as the reality hit her like a stone. Her mouth quivered as a terrible emptiness enveloped her. She hadn’t a hope of getting her baby back.
The nausea rose to her throat and sweat beaded her forehead. Hardly aware of her surroundings, she struggled for control, afraid that she’d be sick, then and there.
‘You’re…a monster!’ she whispered in horror.
‘Am I?’ he said curtly. ‘And what kind of mother are you? Did you once think of Lexi while you were plotting your criminal activities? Did you ever wonder what would happen to her if your fraud was discovered? Were you so wrapped up in your own selfish need for vengeance that it didn’t matter what happened to any of the people who had the misfortune to be involved in your life?’
Emma gazed at him tearfully. ‘But…I love her,’ she mumbled.
‘And I have her best interests at heart,’ he countered grimly. ‘She will remain with me. I came to put your mind at rest. Lexi is safe and content and will be well cared for. She will be taught to be honourable, well-mannered and honest.’
It sounded so dutiful. So utterly empty of warmth and affection. This was her baby he was talking about! A child who needed cuddles and affection, a mother’s love… ‘Is that all?’ she said jerkily.
‘More than you would have provided,’ he said coldly.
‘Leon!’ she said choking, tears spilling unchecked down her unhappy face as she was forced to accept the unthinkable.
There would be another woman mothering her baby, someone else reading bedtime stories, comforting Lexi, watching her grow up…snuggling into that baby-scented skin…
She gave a shuddering moan. ‘Oh, Leon, what about love?’
He had half-turned to leave. Taut in every line of his body, he jerked his head around and looked her full in the eyes. Now she was sure of his unhappiness, of some deep pain he suffered.
Her limpid gaze pleaded with him for compassion and understanding. The silence and the tension between them intensified and she knew they were both thinking of the past when they had been wildly happy together and without a care in the world.
‘Love,’ he rasped with a glacial contempt, ‘is a fool’s illusion.’
CHAPTER ONE
SECURE within the walled grounds of Leon’s country mansion, the two-and-a-half-year-old Alexandra slept contentedly in Leon’s arms while he laid plans for her to inherit his domain. When, he reminded himself grimly, he’d dealt with the problem of his ex-wife and her child.
He returned to more pleasant thoughts, planning for the day when he’d tell Lexi how his family had been rewarded with land for outstanding bravery. Like his father before him, he’d show his niece the hill where a lookout had spotted the Saracen pirates who’d roamed the seas of Greece in the sixteenth century, and who’d threatened to capture the entire island of Zakynthos.
And they’d walk from the beach where Kyriakis ships had set out for the decisive battle, to the shady, vine-covered terrace where he now sat. There, he would tell her, in his late father’s words, that the land would be hers, all the way from the coast, across the fertile plain and to the hills beyond.
She murmured in her sleep and burrowed deeper, her wilful little face soft with dreams. Smiling down at her, he stroked the silky blonde curls and had a sudden, sharply painful recollection of caressing Emma’s shining hair long, long in the past.
The rosy image was brutally replaced by Emma’s shocking appearance more than two years ago, when he’d confronted her in that unspeakable prison. He shifted, uncomfortable with the memory. In a moment of weakness he’d almost given in to her, his intentions shaken by Emma’s distress and her alarming physical deterioration.
But she had shown no penitence and he couldn’t ignore the facts. Lexi’s moral welfare had been threatened. It had been his duty to protect his brother’s child in accordance with his promise to his ailing father.
He looked down as Lexi stirred, her eyes opening to show the same cerulean blue as those of her mother. He smiled fondly. Reluctant to take on another child, he’d nevertheless been enchanted by her.
‘Mama,’ she whimpered, her face crumpling in bewilderment.
He winced as if from a body blow. ‘It’s OK. I’m here, sweet pea,’ he said softly, holding the tiny body close.
He knew she wasn’t properly awake and was likely to sleep for another twenty minutes or so. She was dreaming. At her tender age she couldn’t have any memory of a mother who’d last held her when she was still a baby. Could she?
Alexandra curled up grumpily and her eyes closed again, soothed by his stroking hands. But Leon felt disturbed and unsettled.
When she seemed to be safely asleep again he headed for his study where he placed her carefully on a wide sofa at the far end of the room, protecting her with a barricade of pillows.
The house slumbered, silent and hushed. Marina, who was sharing the big house with him still, insisted everyone took a siesta after lunch and he’d often had cause to be grateful for the respite it afforded him.
Frowning hard, he strode up and down, thinking. The moment he’d dreaded was almost upon him. Lexi would soon ask questions about her mother. He needed to know what to say. Or…what to show her.
His eyes slewed to the locked drawer in his desk. Something other than his own will compelled him to stride over and slip the key in the lock. His fingers shook with impatience. Nothing could stop him now, not even the need to protect his own bruised heart.
With his pulses pounding loudly in his ears, he removed the home video from the drawer and slotted it into the machine. After a quick glance at the sleeping Lexi, he pulled up a leather armchair and focussed tensely on the unfolding pictures.
A slow hiss escaped his lips. He’d forgotten how beautiful Emma had been when they’d gone out together. She’d been twenty, studying economics on day-release at the college where he was taking a postgraduate course.
Her sense of fun and joie de vivre lit the screen and Leon found himself on the edge of his seat watching avidly as her supple and voluptuous body dipped and swayed in a laughing parody of a belly dancer. Sex oozed from every pore of her body, heating him, tugging at his loins.
Giggling, she ruined the profoundly erotic effect by whooping and turning a series of exuberant cartwheels.
‘Mama!’
‘Lex!’
Leon jerked around, poleaxed. Alexandra was sitting up and staring wide-eyed at the screen. His heart pounded hard as the hairs stood up on the back of his neck. She didn’t know what she was saying.
Cursing himself for being careless, he hit the off button. Lexi scrambled over the cushions and ran to him. Before he knew what she was doing she had reached across his knee and switched the video on again.
‘Mama,’ she said in firm defiance when he snapped it off for the second time.
He stopped breathing. It was a coincidence. She was copying Marina’s child who was always yelling for her mother. Only the other day Lexi had called his ex-wife Mama and had been quickly corrected, only to repeat the word again and again until the edgy Marina had screamed in exasperation.
He smiled wryly, remembering how secretly amused he’d been by his bolshie little niece. Lexi was strong-willed; as stubborn and as determined as any Kyriakis male.
And, he acknowledged, with the added advantage of devastatingly female weapons. Already she’d climbed onto his lap and her arms were twining around his neck pleadingly.
‘Lexi see,’ she coaxed, showering his face with kisses.
Melting already, he considered this. The damage—if any—had been done. If not, they could both enjoy the remainder of the video. And he wanted to, very much.
Brushing aside the danger to his peace of mind, he nodded. ‘All right,’ he conceded.
‘Thank you very much,’ she chanted solemnly, remembering her manners.
He grinned and hugged her. ‘Minx,’ he murmured fondly, curling up with her to watch.
He could see that Lexi was enraptured by Emma’s virtuoso performance for the camcorder. As always, Emma went too far—this time, one cartwheel too many—and to the little girl’s delight Emma rolled helplessly into a nearby duck pond before emerging hooting with laughter, her eyes sparkling, pearly teeth glistening and her hair festooned with pondweed.
‘Finished,’ he announced tautly, when the screen went blank.
His memory furnished the rest. He’d put down the camcorder and dragged Emma into his arms. He’d kissed her till she couldn’t breathe. Oh, God, he remembered so well!
Seven years later he could still smell and taste the pondweed and feel the indescribable warmth and softness of her welcoming, laughing mouth as she’d lured him into the woodland beyond.
Grimly he swung Lexi into his arms and suggested a swim, relieved that she had asked no questions. He wasn’t ready to supply answers.
As she tugged him along excitedly, he reflected that he would have to decide how he should handle the question of Emma. Did he tell his niece the truth one day about her jailbird mother? Or should he give a sanitised version? And should he ever reveal who the woman in the video was?
His brow furrowed deeply. If he did the latter, Lexi would be captivated. She’d want to meet her mother—whereas he intended to keep them apart as long as possible.
He felt a chill steal over him despite the heat of the early afternoon. Emma would be released in a couple of years or so. And then Lexi would no longer be safe from harm.
He looked at her sweet face as she sang happily to herself, absorbed in ‘helping’ her to wriggle into a bathing costume which sported a large daisy cutely adorning her small bottom. His heart lurched. Ever the attentive, doting uncle, he swept her curls up and expertly fastened them with a scrunchie.
He loved this little scrap. From day one she’d wormed her way into his frozen heart and with every flutter of her lashes and big, gummy smile she had set about thoroughly defrosting it. Now she meant everything to him—and life without her would be untenable.
He made a silent pledge. Emma would never get her daughter back. Not while there was still breath in his body.
‘And…Mrs Kyriakis,’ murmured the smooth, young immigration officer, ‘what are your plans now you are on Zakynthos?’
Emma remained composed, even though her heart and stomach seemed to have shot down an elevator into her trainers and were now sending alarm signals through her entire system.
She’d had a lot of practice in self-control over the past two years—and getting into the country was far more important than some of the things she’d silently borne in prison. Consequently she managed to flash a warm smile.
‘Simple. I’m going to get a tan!’ she announced airily.
With a show of cheerfulness she indicated the sun cream, lodged precariously on top of her belongings which had been tipped unceremoniously out of her case.
‘I see. Staying…where?’ enquired the officer idly, scanning a list.
She craned her neck. It looked like the names of people. Her dramatically fertile imagination provided details. Drug dealers and terrorists. Rapists. Paedophiles, whatever. Her heart leapt back into her chest with an unnerving suddenness and sat there palpitating. Maybe she was on that list as an undesirable!
‘Your hotel?’ prompted her interrogator.
Emma forced another broad smile. ‘Hotel! I wish. I’m looking for something cheap. A friend of mine said it was easy to find rooms to rent,’ she confided. ‘Can you recommend anywhere?’
He studied her thoughtfully and ignored her attempt to disarm him. ‘You have a Greek name.’
She’d been ready for that one. Nodding slowly, she gave herself time to calm her leaping nerves and to steady her voice. ‘My husband…’ she frowned at the shaky delivery but plunged on ‘…he…he died in England more than two years ago.’
Unfazed by her apparent agitation, the officer gave her a calculating stare. She recognised in him the same detachment as that adopted by the prison officers. They’d heard too many lies and too many sob stories to be anything but suspicious of emotion.
‘He has family here?’
Emma tensed. Her solicitor had said there were many people in the phone book with the name Kyriakis and her arrival shouldn’t provoke comment. She hoped this officer was merely bored and was using her to hone his interviewing technique.
‘My late husband lived and worked in England. His family—wherever they are,’ she said, suggesting a vagueness as to the Kyriakis whereabouts, ‘were opposed to our marriage. They never came to the wedding.’ She allowed a puzzled frown to ripple her forehead. ‘What is this? Everything’s in order, isn’t it? All I want is a holiday in the sun. I’ve had an operation. I need rest and no hassle—’
‘Ah. The pills.’
Emma watched as he curiously fingered the homoeopathic remedies for sickness and exhaustion. Her prison sentence had been cut short on compassionate grounds because she’d been so ill. She had her solicitor to thank for that. Dear John! Bless him for his support. She glanced at her watch and bit her lip. He’d be waiting for her, wondering where she was…
‘Someone meeting you?’
She blinked. He was good! Someone ought to promote him to head inquisitor, she thought wearily.
‘I’ve never been here before,’ she said, evading the question with a politician’s skill.
‘You looked at your watch.’
‘Yes. I need to eat at regular intervals and take my pills at certain times. With the two-hour time difference, I was anxious not to get in a muddle.’
‘Really.’
This man would have made an angel edgy, she thought sourly. She felt suddenly weak and passed a hand over her hot forehead.
‘I need to sit down,’ she muttered. Without waiting for permission she went to a bench against the wall and sank onto it, leaning her back against the cold stone, terrified of failure. ‘I don’t understand the problem,’ she said quietly. ‘I can’t be the only person who arrives without any definite accommodation. I don’t have enough money or clothes to stay here for long, you can see that. I’m not carrying drugs, or anything else illegal. I’m just an ordinary woman hoping for some sun, sea and sand to help me become well.’
Indifferent to her evident frailty, the officer turned over the contents of her case with a desultory hand.
‘I see. Would you wait here?’ he asked politely.
As if she had any choice! Patiently she waited. An hour. Two. Exhausted from her four a.m. start, she curled up on the hard bench and promptly went to sleep.
‘Mrs Kyriakis?’ The officer was shaking her shoulder. ‘You can go. Enjoy your holiday.’
Relief brought her fully awake. She was free! A joyful smile began its journey across her face but she lowered her sparkling eyes hastily and tried to think how an ordinary holiday-maker would feel.
‘About time,’ she grumbled. Getting up stiffly, she saw that she’d slept for nearly an hour. ‘Some welcome!’
The officer gave an only-doing-my-duty shrug and she continued her show of irritation as she repacked her case then trudged out of the room.
She couldn’t believe it. She was here. Really here. And not far away was little Lexi. Soon she’d be holding her baby in her arms again. Excited, Emma thought blissfully of the moment when Lexi would call her Mummy.
‘Wonderful!’ She breathed ecstatically.
Back in his office, the officer punched numbers on his mobile. ‘She’s on her way,’ he warned.
Leon thanked the officer, tucked his mobile into the pocket of his linen jacket and waited tensely beneath the shade of the tamarisk and pine trees opposite the airport entrance.
The first call, some two hours earlier, had come out of the blue. For a moment he’d thought the officer had made a mistake but the name, the age and the description had been spot on. If this was Emma, then the young man’s alertness had possibly prevented an attempted abduction.
Leon thrust his shaking hands into his pockets and forced back the flash of fear. A tiny child’s happiness depended on his ability to handle this situation. Caught off guard by the unexpectedness of Emma’s arrival, he’d had only a short time to decide his plan of action. But he must make no mistake in its execution.
He stiffened, every muscle in his body creaking with strain. His heart raced. It was Emma.
Like a butterfly spreading its wings, she drew herself up, took a deep breath and flung her head back to absorb the sunshine, her whole body language exuding uninhibited joy.
‘Entirely misplaced,’ he muttered.
If she thought she was free to snatch her daughter, she was wrong! He’d watch her every step of the way. She might be devious and driven by revenge to cause him the maximum amount of trouble, but he was on his home ground and had a whole raft of people looking out for his best interests.
And Lexi’s. God keep her safe. How could Emma drag a child away from the only home she’d ever known? Her lawyer, John Sefton, had hinted something like this might happen but he’d never believed she could ignore her daughter’s needs so ruthlessly.
Emma set off as if she knew where she was going. Interesting. He kept his distance as she headed for the taxi rank—which she ignored. The drivers didn’t ignore her though, and he didn’t blame them for staring in admiration.
‘Poli oraya,’ they murmured, seeking his agreement as he drew level to them.
Yes, she was strikingly attractive, he acknowledged grudgingly. Prison had obviously been no hardship and the gaunt, sick woman had become a beauty again.
Her long-legged stride was fluid, giving an impression of suppleness and energy. Leon’s mind, perhaps overwhelmed by those lushly swaying hips, translated that vigour into Technicolor visions of athletic sex.
‘Forget it. You’re celibate,’ he muttered under his breath, reluctantly amused by his astonishing arousal.
But he couldn’t. She’d gained weight—though not the plumpness of her youth. To Leon’s hot appraisal her figure was more spectacular than ever before: full breasted, yet slim, and with a tiny waist above those eye-catchingly seductive hips.
She wore a blindingly blue sundress the same colour as her eyes and her blonde hair swung around her shoulders in a thick and glossy cloud. Her skirt was being whipped by the wind around her long, bare legs and afforded breathtaking glimpses of firm and shapely thighs.
Leon tried to normalise his thudding pulses as she stopped and looked about her—clearly waiting for someone. Caught between desiring and despising her, he allowed himself the brief luxury of letting his sexual imagination run riot.
He wished he hadn’t. His libido seemed to be making up for lost time and it was taking over his mind as well as his body.
With hazy eyes, he saw a car come to a stop alongside her. A man clambered out. Emma opened her arms in welcome, her face wreathed in smiles.
Leon’s vision sharpened. John Sefton, Emma’s lawyer. He knew him well from the custody discussions they’d had over the past two years. And that was no proper greeting between a professional man and his client, he thought darkly. Too much hugging. Too much delight.
Spurred by an anger which had come from nowhere, Leon noted the stubby male fingers gravitating slowly towards Emma’s highly touchable rear and strode forwards before the roving hand reached its target.
His heart pounded like a trip hammer in his chest and he had to concentrate hard on containing the overwhelming emotions which battled for supremacy in his seething brain.
‘Well! They’re letting jailbirds into my country now!’ he drawled.
Emma gasped at the venom-laced voice, detached herself from John’s enthusiastic embrace and whirled around.
‘You!’ she said stupidly.
Leon’s cynical eyes lingered mockingly on her parted lips and she felt a flush creeping up her body as he began to investigate the rest of her with breathtaking thoroughness.
‘Yes, me. I live here,’ he observed when his tour had climbed to her cleavage. ‘What’s your excuse?’
She bristled, wanting to shout, My child, dammit! What do you think? Instead, she summoned her new and remarkable self-control, raised an eyebrow and with cool composure murmured, ‘I’ve come to arrange access.’
Custody was out of the question. John had fought for that on her behalf ever since she’d been sent to prison and he’d hit a brick wall. Access was a different matter—though she intended to remove Lexi from the island, once they had got to know one another well.
‘I was going to call you. I wanted time with Emma first,’ John said to Leon, looking flustered.
‘Oh, yes?’ Leon drawled coldly and turned to Emma. ‘I’ve got half an hour free. We’ll discuss it. Without your boyfriend.’
Emma let her mouth tighten with irritation. ‘You’ve met John several times. You’re perfectly aware that he’s my legal adviser—’
‘And hopes for more,’ Leon murmured, his gaze challenging John’s.
‘Don’t be ridiculous—’ she protested indignantly.
‘Ask him,’ drawled Leon.
‘My relationship with my client is her own business,’ John said rather pompously.
And, she felt, defensively. She looked up at him with different eyes. Could Leon be right? And then she frowned. Of course not! It would suit Leon to cause trouble between herself and John, who’d become her friend and ally.
‘John has worked long and hard on my case. He’s good and kind and worth ten of you,’ she declared loyally. ‘Without him I’d have been alone in the world.’ Her face flushed when she thought of those terrible, heart-breaking days and her voice faltered. ‘John was there for me. He stood by me and encouraged me when I was desperate. And he never gave up fighting for my early release.’
‘How dedicated. And, I trust, well-paid?’ Leon said purring.
But the look he gave her lawyer was one of pure menace and she felt John shrink back in apprehension. That bothered her. She needed her lawyer to be more than a match for Leon.
‘That’s none of your business,’ she replied. Selling her house had been a price worth paying. ‘The sun is too hot for me. Can we find some shade?’ she suggested and slipped in a crafty, ‘Or perhaps we could go to your home now?’
Leon’s dark eyes considered her for a moment. She met them boldly at first, confident of her hard-won protective shell. But slowly his eyes seemed to melt and she felt as if she was floundering in fathoms-deep water. A silky sensation seemed to be flowing up her body, softening her tense muscles and turning her brain to treacle.
The heat. It was melting her as though she were an ice cream. She licked her dry lips and lifted her hair from her damp neck.
‘I will talk to you and you alone,’ Leon said, his voice low and rolling through her unnervingly. ‘Otherwise…nothing.’
‘That’s not on, Emma!’ John began in protest.
She gave him a particularly dreamy smile, partly because of the warm liquidity of her body and partly because her friendship with John seemed to annoy Leon.
‘What does it matter? It’s what we want and I’ll come to no harm,’ she said affectionately. John didn’t look too sure. Amused, she rested her hand on his arm and fondly kissed his cheek. ‘I’ll see you later. I’ve got your number. I ought to speak to Leon if I’m to visit Lexi before…’ she gave him a conspiratorial smile ‘…before I return to England.’
‘I don’t like it. Don’t make any decisions. Don’t agree to anything. Remember his agenda,’ John advised sullenly.
‘Of course,’ she said soothingly. ‘I’ll—’
‘Can we get on?’ interrupted Leon irritably.
‘We have a man in a hurry!’ She smiled at John. ‘See you later.’
Leon pointedly opened the door of her lawyer’s car but his bad temper didn’t disturb her at all. As John drove grumpily away she reflected that this was more than they’d hoped.
Leon’s intransigence had been so deeply rooted that she’d thought he’d refuse even to see her. She and John had consequently planned on resorting to the courts for access and they had been resigned to a lengthy legal battle.
In preparation two weeks previously, John had brought in everything she’d need: extra clothes and medication, the dwindling remainder of the money from the sale of the house where she and Taki had lived—and a selection of toys and clothes for Lexi.
But now Leon was agreeing to talk to her! Unable to hide her delight, she turned starry eyes on him.
‘I’m grateful for your time, Leon.’ Longingly she added, ‘How is she?’
Hard eyes sliced into her delight, reminding her that she had a long way to go before she got what she wanted.
‘Very well.’
She hesitated, needing to know more. ‘Happy?’ she asked lightly.
‘I’m delirious, thank you,’ he mocked, looking nothing of the sort.
Emma bit back her irritation. She’d be able to judge Lexi’s state of mind soon enough. Leon might do everything in his power to restrict access, but surely no court would support him? A mother must count for something out here.
‘I wondered,’ she asked hesitantly, ‘do you have any photos?’
The need in her voice was more than obvious. Let him know how much she cared, she thought, wondering why he didn’t answer straight away. Leon ought to know how badly she wanted to see Lexi. He might then realise that the courts would recognise that too—and therefore be persuaded that Lexi’s life would be enhanced by visits from her birth mother.
She held her breath when his hand slipped into the inner pocket of his jacket. Without a word he handed over a slim leather case. Emma’s fingers shook as she slid the photos out and looked at her daughter for the first time in two long years.
‘Oh!’ she said breathily.
Still a sunny-faced child. Sturdy, laughing, obviously happy. In cute bathing costumes or sweet dresses, with her hair up in delightful bunches or dancing on her shoulders. On a boat, in a pool, surrounded by presents…
So many photos, she thought in wonder, blinking through her tears. Her heart somersaulted. Bleakly she realised that Leon must adore his niece. And…Lexi…would she adore him?
A pain scythed right through her. She fought back a moan. Perhaps she was making a mistake! Horrified, she raised her head to meet his devil-dark stare, her eyes huge with distress.
‘Yes, Emma. She’s happy. So why smash a child’s carefree life?’ he asked quietly.
She couldn’t answer. A lump sat hard and hurting in her throat. She blinked at him in acute misery as her carefully constructed plans began to tumble down on her head.
John had insisted that Leon always spoke of Lexi as a chattel. Never with love. She knew that Leon had talked about doing his duty in looking after Lexi, and honouring a promise he’d made to his father.
Based on the fact that he’d told her he’d never wanted to assume responsibility for his niece, Emma had assumed that his interest in Lexi was minimal. Naturally she’d believed that Leon’s own child must be the favourite and that little Lexi came a very poor second-best.
Whereas the opposite seemed to be true. Leon apparently kept the contents of a photo album on him, every picture depicting Lexi. Her mouth trembled and she touched her injured breast with a faltering hand. Briefly a flash of something indefinable flickered in Leon’s eyes. A glint of…triumph?
‘Go home,’ he murmured softly. ‘Save yourself grief. And Lexi. Think of her feelings if you suddenly appear on the scene. The upheaval, the shock…’
He sounded confident, utterly sure that she’d accept the wisdom of his words. She frowned, trying to iron out the discrepancy between John’s report and the lovingly collected photographs kept close to Leon’s heart.
John wouldn’t lie—he had her own best interests at heart. Whereas Leon would do anything to dissuade her. So what was the truth of the matter? How could she be sure that she wasn’t about to tear her daughter’s life apart?
Her heart cramped. If she ever thought she’d damage Lexi, she’d abandon all plans of abduction. Maybe, she thought in dismay, her journey had been all for nothing!
CHAPTER TWO
EMMA struggled to unravel the truth. Leon couldn’t be trusted. It would suit him very well if she gave up and went home, abandoning her child for ever.
She frowned. Something was nagging at the back of her mind. To do with the photos. What could it be? There were a lot. And… Her head lifted as it dawned on her what was wrong. Lexi had been alone in every shot.
‘Is she in any other photos you’ve got? Could you have a look?’ she asked, pretending to be dispirited in the hope she’d catch Leon off guard.
‘You’ve seen them all. These are the only ones I have on me.’ He purred, sure it seemed, of success.
‘Just the ones of Lexi.’
‘My beloved niece,’ he said with surprisingly believable sincerity, piling on the sentiment.
She could have hit him. That confirmed her theory! Every knotted up muscle in her body relaxed and she stared at him with cold blue eyes.
‘How extraordinary! It’s a strange father who carries a dozen or so snaps of his niece but none of his own child.’ She gave him a sugary smile, seeing that he looked totally disconcerted. Her eyes gleamed. ‘Might there be a reason for that?’ she murmured.
‘What reason could there be?’ He growled, an extraordinary tautness bringing his cheekbones into high relief.
‘Deception,’ she retorted, lashing him with a scathing glance. ‘I think that you knew I’d be here and so you deliberately collected the photos to show me—’
‘A kind gesture, surely?’ He frowned at her.
‘Not under the circumstances, no.’ she replied, lifting a challenging chin. ‘You’ve made it clear that you don’t want me to meet my daughter. Why, then, would you whet my appetite by showing photos of her? To tease me? I think not. You wouldn’t risk increasing my desire to see her.’
His eyes blackened. ‘How about pride?’ he said bitingly. ‘To show you how well she is cared for—’
‘You don’t fool me!’ she scoffed. ‘John’s told me about your indifference to Lexi—’
‘Has he, now?’ Leon muttered grimly. ‘Has he indeed?’
‘Yes. And it broke my heart to know she wasn’t important to you.’
‘She is—’
‘Oh, maybe as a Kyriakis, as your brother’s child, but not because you feel any love for her. I got the impression she was a nuisance. My daughter! That’s what’s hurt me so much. She’s with you because of your wretched pride and because you think you’re better than me—’
‘That last part is certainly true.’
‘We’ll see about that!’ she said flaring, beside herself with anger. ‘Lexi needs me. I’m here to bring some love into my daughter’s life.’ She choked.
‘You’ll bring confusion and uncertainty—’
‘No, I won’t,’ she insisted hotly. ‘I can’t believe you almost succeeded in deterring me. How could I have been so stupid as to doubt my own instincts? You cynically assembled those photos to imply that Lexi is the most important person in your life—’
‘She is!’ Leon declared furiously, his hands balling into tight fists.
‘Pull the other one!’ she scorned. Her head was up, her hair flying about her face as she shook with indescribable anger. ‘Common sense says that your wife and your own daughter must be dearer to you. You may well flinch. I’ve sussed you out, haven’t I? You’re despicable, Leon, attempting to prevent her from seeing the one person who can give her real love. I know you begrudge looking after her—and I’m going to prove it. I can’t believe you staged this farcical show of devotion!’
‘You’re wrong about my feelings for Lexi,’ he said, his voice vibrating with passion. His eyes glittered. ‘And I would warn you to be wary of what Sefton says. He has ulterior motives—’
‘Yes. He cares!’
‘But who for? Just consider carefully everything he says,’ Leon said shortly.
‘He told me you were sly,’ she shot. ‘I think that’s pretty accurate. Meeting me here wasn’t a coincidence, was it? I suppose the immigration officer tipped you off so I had to sit about cooling my heels while you ransacked your house for photos of my child.’
‘Staphos called me, yes,’ he conceded. ‘We’re fishing buddies. He had a hunch you must be Taki’s widow. But I always carry these photos.’ He contemplated her thoughtfully. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you for another couple of years.’ A sardonic curl deepened the etched arches of his mouth. ‘Are you on the run?’
She glared. ‘Of course not. I was released six months ago.’
‘Six months!’ he exclaimed with exaggerated surprise. ‘And you were so desperate to see your beloved daughter that you dawdled straight here!’
‘I’ve been ill.’ She flung the words at him, seething at the injustice of his remark. ‘That’s why my sentence was reduced.’
‘You’ve recovered remarkably well,’ he observed with heavy sarcasm.
‘Good nutrition, a healthy lifestyle and a clear conscience!’
‘I can believe two out of three,’ he mocked.
She couldn’t fence with him any more. She felt emotionally drained. Anger and anxiety weren’t good for her and she tried to avoid it. Unfortunately there was something about Leon that made her blood boil. Whatever had happened to her self-control? she wondered gloomily. One snarl from Leon and it ran away with its tail between its legs.
‘This isn’t getting us anywhere,’ she said wearily. ‘We must come to some arrangement. And I’d rather we talked where I can sit down out of the sun. I’m not fully fit and this heat saps my strength.’ Longingly she thought of a long drink in a frosted glass with ice in it. ‘Perhaps we can find a taverna.’
Leon shrugged and picked up her case. ‘My car’s over there. If you insist on wasting your time…’
‘Being reunited with my child is hardly a waste of time,’ she rebuked icily.
She trudged behind Leon feeling as battered as if she’d gone twenty rounds in a boxing ring. Maybe she’d beaten him in the first battle of wits, but there would be more difficulties put in her way and she must rally her energies and be on full alert.
‘Staying long?’ He flung the words curtly over his shoulder.
She hurried to catch up, conscious that every taxi driver was watching their progress with interest. Tired of hedging, she decided to be frank.
‘As long as it takes.’
He glanced down at her defiant face, his mouth creaking up in a faintly mocking smile.
‘Then we’d better find you a home you can grow old and grey in.’
With a groan, Emma slapped her hand to her forehead in dismay. ‘I forgot. I’ve got one. A home, I mean.’
‘Where?’ he enquired quickly.
She frowned. ‘That’s the trouble—I don’t know. I should have got the address from John before he left. He’s found me some cheap rooms to rent in the town.’
‘He usually stays at the Hotel Zantos,’ Leon commented drily. ‘Five star. Two pools. Sauna—’
Emma hardly heard. She was concentrating on staying upright. She’d taken on too much, she realised gloomily. She wasn’t fit enough yet for all this hassle. She was dead on her feet and had nowhere to go for a good bath and an extended collapse.
‘I’ve got to call him,’ she said wearily. She closed her eyes and gave a heavy sigh. ‘Do you have a phone?’ she asked in a small voice. ‘Please, Leon,’ she whispered, on the edge of exhaustion.
He studied her uplifted face, tension stretching the skin over his taut jaw.
‘Let’s get across the road to the shade of the trees,’ he said quietly, as taxis, hire-cars and coaches roared into life, heralding the arrival of another planeload of tourists.
Too feeble, too close to tears to reply, she allowed his proprietorial hand to descend on the small of her back while he shepherded her through the mêlée. His palm burned its imprint into her flesh and when she stumbled in confusion his arm slipped more securely around her waist.
Its instant comfort baffled her even more. He was her adversary and she should cringe from his touch. But then, it had been a long time since a man had held her close, years since she’d felt safe and protected.
Her eyes grew huge. That last occasion had been when she and Leon had been together. He’d kissed her goodbye the night before his engagement to Marina. She remembered it well. Lingering. Loving.
She winced. The wonderful strength and pressure of Leon’s arm was a false security. He’d have thrown her to the lions if he could have found some lurking near the hire-cars.
‘All right?’ he asked quietly when they reached the other side.
His head was bent to hers in query. The soft hairs on her cheek tingled from the drift of his breath. Something warm and disturbing was coiling in her stomach and sharpening her senses even while weakening her body. And then he had dropped the case and was turning her to him with a surprising gentleness.
Without any effort on her part, her eyes closed in response. His breath came warm and quick on her sensitised mouth. She felt like putty in his hands, too tired to fight his hypnotic appeal. It was both wonderful and frightening. She had to get away. Fast.
She opened her eyes a fraction. ‘I…I don’t feel too good,’ she whispered miserably, her heart sinking as she realised that she was too fatigued to successfully plead her case for access.
‘In that case, let’s forget the taverna and cheap digs and get an upgrade,’ he murmured soothingly.
‘I just want John,’ she said in panic. And to sleep for a hundred years… Her eyes met his and were misted with longing.
‘Touching. But you can make do with me.’ Tight-lipped again, Leon pushed her resisting body into the car. ‘Relax. You’ll snap tendons, screwed up like that. What are you worried about? As sure as hell I’m not in a mood for abduction.’
‘Once was enough, was it?’ she flashed, obstinately remaining stiff as a board in the seat.
‘More than.’
Simmering darkly, he leaned across, intent on fastening the seat belt for her. Emma swallowed as first his beautifully smooth golden jaw and then the ever-kissable nape of his neck came to within a hair’s breadth of her breathless mouth. Incapable of stopping herself, she inhaled, her senses reeling from the clean, fresh maleness of him.
And she was too weak to protest, too shattered by the journey and, perhaps, the emotional excitement, to prevent him from invading her space and protesting that she was perfectly capable of fastening her own seat belt. Because she wasn’t.
Unaccountably panic-stricken, she stared out of the window. It was the upsurge of memories, she thought. Her brain was playing tricks with her body, reminding her of love and tenderness…
Her eyes widened as she saw that her case had been abandoned some distance away. ‘My case! It’ll be stolen!’ she cried in agitation.
He paused, turning to look at her. This close, his eyes seemed as black as newly hacked coal. Suddenly Emma couldn’t get her breath, and sat stunned by the impact of the electrical charge that leapt across the gap between them both and which wrenched fiercely at her pained heart.
The man was married. He ought to keep himself switched in neutral, she thought crossly.
‘Your case is safe. We’re honest on this island,’ he snapped.
She winced as his words seemed to slide like a cruel knife into her ribs. The seat belt finally slotted into place. Leon moved back with a tantalising waft of lemony soap and a blur of glossy dark hair and polished skin. His hair still curled defiantly at the nape, she saw, remembering his efforts to keep it strictly in check.
Her door slammed. She watched him retrieve the case and stride back, grim-faced. For a moment or two she could breathe again. It was a long time since she’d felt so limp and short of oxygen. Presumably anxiety and the heat had affected her.
Emma groaned. This was bad news. Over the next few days she must be able to cope with whatever Leon threw at her. The way things were going, she could well have a court case to cope with.
After that, if she eventually won access, she’d need to be at her physical peak if she was to respond to Lexi’s needs.
Emma let out a deep sigh. She’d intended to hire a car and take her daughter to the beach. There they could make sandcastles, play in the water and generally have a good time.
However long it took, she meant to forge a strong and loving relationship with Lexi. She knew she could do that. Her love for her child had survived despite the long separation. Her illness had intensified the knowledge that only one thing in the world mattered: being with her emotion-starved daughter and showing her what it was like to be truly loved.
She leaned back, worried. There was so much to do before Lexi was safe in England. There would be the hazardous journey with Lexi and John: boat-hopping up the chain of Ionian Islands, a secret landing on the Greek coast and then the long drive across Europe.
Throughout the trip she’d have to be focussed exclusively on Lexi, playing games to pass the time, keeping her amused and happy so that it all seemed great fun.
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.
CHAPTER THREE
‘IT’S lovely,’ Emma said longingly, wandering around the villa’s elegant sitting area in awe. Quality floor tiles. Stunning traditional furniture, heavily carved, the sofas invitingly squishy and with huge cushions she could picture herself sinking into… She groaned. Heaven. ‘But I can’t possibly stay…’
‘Let me make you some tea,’ called Leon from the kitchen area beyond. ‘Then I’ll explain the set-up.’
‘Tea!’ She sighed, instantly seduced by the sound of a kettle being filled. ‘OK. Then I must call John,’ she insisted, being ruthless with herself. And very annoyed by the wistful note that had crept into her voice.
She paused, even more irritated to be disconcerted by the breadth of Leon’s tautly muscled back as he stretched up to one of the blue-painted units. It was a back. Gorgeous, granted, but nothing to quiver about.
‘I expect there’s some chocolate cake somewhere,’ he mused, bending to search in one of the lower cupboards.
In doing so he provided her with an unwanted but riveting view of his neat and muscular rear beneath the straining material of his linen trousers. She primmed her mouth in exasperation.
His body had been spectacular. Still was. She really must get out more. Appalled at her rampaging pulses, she did an about turn and concentrated on her suspicions.
‘Just where and what is this place? I doubt I can afford it,’ she remarked coolly, parking herself at the stylish marble dining table adorned with blue china pots of all shapes and sizes. She picked one up. It was Chinese. ‘Leon!’ she cried, breathless with hope and abandoning her assumed indifference. ‘Is this your house?’
He glanced amiably at her, the dazzle of his beautiful smile raising her blood pressure a few notches. She glared it back down again where it belonged.
‘It’s mine,’ he replied. ‘But not where I live.’
What did that mean? she wondered, while he put a temptingly rich dark cake and two plates on the table in front of her. He seemed very much at home, very familiar with the place.
Leon pulled out one of the wrought iron chairs opposite her and sat down on the comfortable linen cushion, his muscular arms resting on the table. Emma dragged her fascinated gaze away from their tanned strength and obliterated all thought of being held by those arms.
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