Millie watched him—this man she loved—wondering what was going through his mind. As if reading her thoughts, he turned. The ever-present chemistry flickered across the room, resurrecting a connection that had never died.

‘I don’t want a divorce. I want a wife. I want you. Come back to me,’ he said hoarsely, his eyes glittering dark in his handsome face. ‘Come back to me, and this time we’ll get it right.’

Millie felt her stomach drop.

‘You can’t be serious—’ Her barely audible whisper increased the tension in his powerful frame.

‘It’s still there,’ he growled. ‘What we shared. You can feel it. I can feel it. It hasn’t gone away. I doubt it’s ever going to go away.’

‘Leandro—’

Sarah Morgan trained as a nurse, and has since worked in a variety of health-related jobs. Married to a gorgeous businessman, who still makes her knees knock, she spends most of her time trying to keep up with their two little boys, but manages to sneak off occasionally to indulge her passion for writing romance. Sarah loves outdoor life and is an enthusiastic skier and walker. Whatever she is doing, her head is always full of new characters and she is addicted to happy endings.

Sarah also writes for Medical™ Romance

POWERFUL
GREEK,
UNWORLDLY
WIFE

BY

SARAH MORGAN

MILLS & BOON® Pure reading pleasure™

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

LEANDRO DEMETRIOS, billionaire banker and the subject of a million hopeful female fantasies, dragged the ‘A’ list Hollywood actress through the doorway of his exclusive London townhouse and slammed the door shut on the rain and the bank of waiting photographers.

The woman was laughing, her eyes wide with feminine appreciation. ‘Did you see their faces? You scared them half to death! I feel safer with you than I do with my bodyguards. And you have bigger muscles.’ She slid her hand up his arm, her manicured fingernails lingering on the solid curve of his biceps. ‘Why didn’t we just use the back entrance?’

‘Because I refuse to creep around my own house. And because you like to be seen.’

‘Well, we’ve certainly been seen.’ The fact evidently pleased her. ‘You’ll be all over the papers tomorrow for terrorising the paparazzi.’

Leandro frowned. ‘I only read the financial pages.’

‘And that’s the bit I don’t read,’ she sighed. ‘The only thing I know about money is how to spend it. You, on the other hand, know how to make it by the bucketload, and that makes you my type of guy. Now, stop looking all moody and dangerous and smile! I’m only in town for twenty-four hours and we need to make the most of the time.’ Her lashes lowered provocatively. ‘So, Leandro Demetrios, my very own sexy Greek billionaire. Finally we’re alone. What are we going to do with our evening?’

Leandro removed his jacket and threw it carelessly over the back of a chair. ‘If that’s a serious question, you can leave right now.’ His remark drew a gurgle of delighted laughter from the woman clinging to his arm.

‘No one else dares to speak to me the way you do. It’s one of the things I love most about you. You’re not starstruck and that’s so refreshing for someone like me.’ The tip of her tongue traced the curve of her glossy lips. ‘If I told you I was going to kiss you goodnight and go back to my hotel, what would you do?’

‘Dump you.’ Leandro’s bow-tie landed on top of the jacket. ‘But we both know that isn’t going to happen. You want what I want, so stop playing games and get up those stairs. My bedroom is on the first floor. Last door on the left.’

‘So-o macho.’ Laughing, she smouldered in his direction. ‘According to a poll just last week, you’re now officially the world’s sexiest man.’

Bored by the conversation, Leandro’s only response was to close his fingers around her tiny wrist and pull her towards the staircase.

She gave a gasp of shocked delight. ‘You honestly don’t care what anyone thinks about you, do you? Indifference is such a turn-on. And when it comes to indifference, you wrote the manual.’ She walked with a slow, swaying motion that she’d perfected for the cameras. ‘There’s a special chemistry between us. I can feel it.’

‘It’s called lust,’ Leandro drawled, and she shot him a challenging look.

‘Haven’t you ever had a serious relationship with a woman? I heard you were married for a short time.’

Leandro stilled. A very short time. ‘These days I prefer variety.’

‘Honey, I can give you variety.’ She used the soft, smoky voice that earned her millions of dollars per movie. ‘And I’m just dying to know whether everything they say about you is true. I know you’re super-bright and that you drive your fancy cars way too fast, but what I want to know is just how much of a bad boy you really are when it comes to women.’

‘As bad as they come,’ Leandro said smoothly, his hand locked around her slender wrist as he led her up the stairs. ‘Which makes this your lucky night.’

‘Then lead on, handsome.’ She kept pace with him, a smile on her full, glossy mouth. ‘You have a lot of art on your walls. Great investment. Are they original? I hate anything fake.’

‘Of course you do.’ Leandro focused on her surgically enhanced breasts with wry amusement. At a rough estimate he guessed that ninety per cent of her was fake. The short time he’d spent with her had been enough to prove to him that she was so used to playing other people, she’d forgotten how to be herself.

And that was fine by him.

As far as he was concerned, the shallower the better. At least you knew what you were dealing with and you adjusted your expectations accordingly.

‘Oh, my! Only you would have a picture of a naked woman at the head of your staircase.’ Stopping dead, she gazed up at the huge canvas and wrinkled her nose with disapproval. ‘Strange choice for a man who surrounds himself with beauty. Isn’t she rather fat for your tastes?’

Leandro’s gaze lingered on the celebrated Renaissance masterpiece that had only recently returned from being on loan to a major gallery. ‘When she was alive, it was fashionable to be curvy.’

The girl stared blankly at the exquisite brush strokes. ‘I guess they didn’t know about low carbs.’

‘Curves were a sign of wealth,’ Leandro murmured. ‘It meant you had enough to eat.’

Throwing him a look of blank incomprehension, the actress stepped closer to the painting and Leandro’s fingers tightened like a vice around her wrist.

‘Touch it and we’ll have half the Metropolitan police force keeping us company tonight.’

‘It’s that valuable?’ Her knowing gaze turned to his and she licked her lips. ‘You are one rich, powerful guy. Now, why is that such a turn-on, I wonder? It isn’t as if I care about your money.’

‘Of course you don’t,’ Leandro said, his tone dry because he knew full well that her lovers were expected to pay handsomely for the privilege of escorting her. ‘We both know you’re interested in me because I’m kind to old ladies and animals.’

‘You like animals?’

Looking down into those famous blue eyes, Leandro’s own eyes gleamed. ‘I’ve always had a soft spot for dumb creatures.’

‘That’s so attractive. I love a tough man with a gentle side.’ She slid her arms round his neck like bindweed around a plant. ‘Do you realise we’ve had dinner three times and you haven’t told me a single thing about yourself?’

‘Do you realise that we’ve had dinner three times and you haven’t eaten a single thing?’ Skilfully steering the conversation away from the personal, Leandro smoothly released the zip on her dress and she sucked in a breath.

‘You don’t mess around, do you?’

‘Let’s just say I’ve had enough of verbal foreplay,’ Leandro purred, sliding the dress over her shoulders in a practised movement. He frowned slightly as his fingers brushed hard bones rather than soft flesh.

‘People pay good money to see this body of mine up on the screen.’ She scraped her nails gently down his arm. ‘And you, Leandro Demetrios, are getting it for free.’

Hardly, he thought, looking at the earrings she was wearing. Earrings he’d given her at the beginning of the evening. ‘Shame you’re not sold by the kilogram,’ he said idly, ‘because then you wouldn’t cost me anything.’

‘Thank you.’ Assuming his remark was a compliment, she smiled. ‘You, on the other hand, would cost a woman a fortune because muscle is heavier than fat and you have to be the most impressively built man I’ve ever met. And you’re so damned confident. Is that because you’re Greek?’

‘No. It’s because I’m me. I take what I want.’ He took her chin in his fingers, his eyes steely. ‘And when I’ve finished with it, I drop it.’

She shuddered deliciously. ‘With no apology to anyone. Cold, ruthless, single-minded…’

‘Are we talking about me or you?’ Leandro removed the diamond clip securing her hair. ‘I’m confused.’

‘I’m willing to bet you’ve never been confused about a single thing in your life, you wicked boy.’ Smiling, she dragged her finger over his lower lip. ‘Tell me something personal about yourself. Just one thing. This latest story about you being the father of that baby—is it true? The papers are full of it.’

Not by the flicker of an eyelid did Leandro reveal his sudden tension. ‘Are those the same papers that accused you of being a lesbian?’

‘The difference is that my people issued a stern denial—you’ve said nothing.’

‘I’ve never felt the need to explain my life to anyone.’

‘So does that mean it isn’t your child?’ She lowered her lashes. ‘Or are you such a stud you don’t even know? You’re not giving anything away, are you? Tell me something about you.’

‘You want to know something about me?’ Leandro eased her dress down her painfully thin body and lowered his mouth to the base of her throat. ‘If you give me your heart, I’ll break it. Remember that, agape mou. And I won’t do it gently.’ The warmth of his tongue brought a soft gasp to her lips and she tipped her head back with a shiver.

‘If you’re trying to scare me, you’re not succeeding.’ Her eyes were dark with arousal. ‘I love a man who knows how to be a man. Especially when that man has a sensitive side.’

‘I don’t have a sensitive side.’ Leandro’s voice was hard as he lowered his forehead to hers. For a moment he stared into her wild, excited eyes, his breath mingling with hers. ‘I don’t care about anyone or anything. Lie down in my bed and I’ll guarantee you fantastic sex, but nothing else. So if you’re looking for happy ever after, you’ve taken a wrong turning.’

‘Happy ever after is for movies. It’s my day job. At night, I prefer to live for the moment.’ Squirming against him, she lifted her hand and stroked his rough jaw. ‘I should make you shave before you touch me, but I like the way it makes you look. You are so damn handsome, Leandro, it shouldn’t be allowed,’ she breathed, lifting her mouth to his. ‘My last leading man needed satellite navigation to find his way round a woman’s body. I have a feeling you won’t suffer from the same problem.’

‘I’ve always had a very good sense of direction.’ Leandro backed her against the door and the actress gasped her approval.

‘Oh, yes…’ Panting, she wrenched at his shirt, sending buttons flying. With a low moan of desire she pushed the shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. ‘Your body is incredible. I’m definitely going to get you a part in my next movie. I want you now.’

Having reached the part of the evening that interested him, Leandro scooped her up, strode purposefully towards the bed and then froze because his bed was already occupied.

The woman sat glaring at him, her eyes a fierce blue in a face as pale as his dress shirt. She’d obviously been caught in the rain because her thin cardigan clung to her body and her long hair curled damply past her shoulders like tongues of red fire.

Given the state she was in, she should have looked pathetic, but she didn’t. She looked angry—the blaze of her eyes and the angle of her chin warning him that this wasn’t going to be a gentle reunion.

It was as if a small, unexploded firework had landed in his bedroom and Leandro felt a dart of surprise because he’d never seen her angry before—hadn’t known she was capable of anger.

He’d been on the receiving end of her injured dignity, her silent reproach and her agonised pain. He’d witnessed her disappointment and contempt. But a good healthy dose of oldfashioned anger had been missing from their relationship.

She hadn’t thought that what they had was worth fighting for.

His own anger bubbled up from nowhere, threatening his usual control, and the emotion caught him by surprise because he’d thought he had himself well in hand.

Unfinished business, he thought grimly, and was about to speak when the actress gave a shocked squeak and tightened her grip on his neck.

‘Who’s she? You bastard! When you said you were going to hurt me, I didn’t expect it to be that quick,’ she snarled. ‘How dare you see someone else while you’re with me? I expect my relationships to be exclusive.’

Surprised to realise that he’d forgotten he had the actress in his arms, Leandro lowered her unceremoniously to the floor. ‘I don’t do relationships.’ Not any more.

‘What about her?’ Balancing on her vertiginous heels, the actress shot him a poisonous look. ‘Does she know that?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Leandro was watching the girl on the bed and his humourless smile was entirely at his own expense. ‘She wouldn’t trust me as far as she could throw me, isn’t that right, Millie?’

Her eyes were two hot pools of blame and he ground his teeth. Fight me, he urged silently. If that’s really what you think of me, stand up and scratch my eyes out. Don’t just sit there. And don’t walk out like you did the first time.

But she didn’t move. She sat in frozen silence, her eyes telling him that nothing had changed.

The actress made an outraged noise. ‘So you do know her! Surprising. She doesn’t look your type,’ she said spitefully. ‘She needs to fire her stylist. That natural look is so yesterday. This season is all about grooming.’ She snatched her dress from the floor and held it against her. ‘How did she get in here, anyway? Your security is really tight. I suppose no one noticed her.’

Nothing killed sexual arousal faster than female bitchiness, Leandro thought idly, regretting the impulse that had driven him to invite the actress home. The woman’s tongue was as sharp as the bones poking out through her almost transparent flesh.

‘Well? Are you going to throw her out?’ The actress’s voice turned from sultry to shrill and Leandro studied the girl sitting on his bed, noting the flush on her cheeks and the accusation in her eyes.

He met that gaze full on, with accusation of his own.

Silent communication raged between them and the atmosphere was so thick with tension that both of them forgot about the third person in the room until she stamped her foot.

‘Leandro?’

‘No,’ he said harshly. ‘I’m not going to throw her out.’ The timing wasn’t what he would have chosen but now she was here, he had no intention of letting her go. Not until they’d had the conversation she’d walked away from a year earlier.

The actress gave a gasp of disbelief. ‘You’re choosing that plain, bedraggled, badly dressed nobody over me?’

Leandro sent his date a cold, assessing glance that would have triggered shivers of trepidation through any one of the people who worked for him or knew him well. ‘Yes. At least that way I’m guaranteed a soft landing when we tumble onto that mattress. No bones. No claws.’

The actress gasped. ‘I won’t be treated like this!’ Delivering a performance worthy of an Oscar, she wriggled back into her dress and tossed her head in anger. ‘You told me you weren’t involved with anyone and I believed you! I’m obviously more of a fool than I look.’

Deciding that it was wisest not to respond to that particular statement, Leandro stayed silent, his gaze returned to the girl sitting on his bed. In that single, hotly charged moment he felt the blaze of raw sexual chemistry erupt between them. It was elemental, basic and primitive—the connection so powerful that it was beyond control or understanding. Recognising that fact, she gave a murmur of denial, her expression one of sick contempt as she dragged her gaze from his.

Vibrating with desperation, the actress sent a look of longing towards Leandro’s bare, bronzed torso. ‘I know you didn’t expect to see her here. I know women throw themselves at you. Just get rid of her and we can start again. I forgive you.’

Propelled by a need to ensure that forgiveness would never be forthcoming, Leandro urged her towards the door. ‘You need to learn to play nicely with the other girls. I don’t mind knives in my boardroom but I do find them shockingly uncomfortable in my bedroom.’

Her face scarlet, the actress snatched her phone out of her tiny jewelled handbag. ‘All the rumours about you are true, Leandro Demetrios. You are cold and heartless and just missed your chance to have the one thing every man in the world wants.’

‘And that would be?’ Leandro raised an eyebrow, deliberately provocative. ‘Peace and quiet?’

The actress simmered like milk coming to the boil. ‘Me! And next time you’re in LA, don’t bother calling. And you.’ She glared at the girl on the bed. ‘If you think he’ll ever be faithful to you, you’re crazy.’ Checking that the diamond earrings were still in place, she stormed from the room and several moments later Leandro heard a distant thud as the front door slammed closed.

Silence closed in on them.

‘If you’re going to cry, you can leave now,’ Leandro drawled softly. ‘If you choose to wait in my bedroom, you deserve to get hurt.’

‘I’m not going to cry over you. And I’m not hurt,’ she said stiffly. ‘I’m past being hurt.’

Then she’d done better than him, Leandro reflected grimly. ‘Why are you here?’

‘You know why I’m here. I—I’ve come to take the baby.’

Of course, the baby. He’d been a fool to think anything else, and yet for a moment…

Leandro curled one hand into a fist, surprised to discover that his thick protective layer of cynicism could still be breached.

‘I was asking what you’re doing in my bedroom at midnight.’ Strolling across to the bedroom door, he pushed it shut. He trusted his staff, but he was also sharp enough to know that this story was the juiciest morsel the media had savoured for a long time. They were slavering outside his house, waiting for something to feast on.

And everyone had their price.

He’d learned that unpalatable truth in the harshest way possible, and at an age when most children were still playing with toys.

‘I’m intrigued as to how you got past my security.’

‘I’m still your wife, Leandro. Even if you’ve forgotten that fact.’

‘I haven’t forgotten.’ Keeping his gaze neutral, he looked at her. ‘You really pick your moments. Thanks to you, my night of hot sex just walked through that door.’

Her slender shoulders stiffened, her back rigid. ‘I’m sure you’ll find a replacement fast enough. You always do.’ Her chest rose and fell as she breathed rapidly and then her eyes flew to his, bright with accusation and pain. ‘You are a complete and utter bastard, she’s right about that.’

‘I’ve never heard you use bad language before. It doesn’t suit you.’ Leandro strolled across the bedroom and lifted a bottle of whisky from a small table. Funny, he thought, that his hand was so steady. ‘And I don’t understand why you’re angry. You walked out on our marriage, not me. I was in it for the long haul.’

‘Only you could make it sound like an endurance test. It’s nice to know you had such a positive view of our relationship. No wonder it didn’t last five minutes. You’re even more unfeeling than I thought you were—’ She broke off, as if she was trying to control herself. ‘You’re horribly, horribly insensitive.’

‘I’m living my life. What’s insensitive about that?’ Leandro’s hand remained steady as he poured. ‘There was a vacancy in my bed and I filled it. In the circumstances, you can hardly blame me for that. Drink?’

‘No, thank you.’

‘Such perfect English manners.’ Leandro gave a humourless laugh as he lifted the glass. ‘Don’t tell me—alcohol is fattening and you’re watching your weight.’

‘No. I’m watching my tongue. If I drink, I’ll tell you exactly what I think of you and right now that might not be a good idea because what I think of you isn’t very flattering.’

His hand stilled on the glass. ‘Don’t hold back on my account. It’s interesting to know you’re capable of expressing what you’re feeling providing you’re sufficiently provoked. Just for the record, I actually prefer confrontation to retreat.’

She closed her eyes, misery visible in every angle of her pretty face. ‘I hate confrontation. I didn’t come here to argue with you.’

‘I’m sure you didn’t.’ Leandro examined the golden liquid in his glass. ‘You don’t talk about problems, do you, Millie? And you were certainly never interested in fixing the problems in our relationship. It’s so much easier to just walk away when things become awkward.’

‘How dare you say that to me when you’re the one who—?’ She broke off as if she couldn’t even bear to say it, and his mouth tightened.

‘I’m the one who what?’ His silky soft voice was in direct contrast to the passion in hers. ‘Spell it out, Millie. Come on—let’s hear what I’m guilty of.’

‘You know what! And I didn’t come here to talk about that. ‘You’re a—a…’ She appeared to struggle with her breath and he gave her a long look.

‘You really must learn to finish your sentences, agape mou.’ His tone bored, he offered no sympathy. As far as he was concerned, she deserved none. He’d given her a chance. He’d given her something he’d never offered a woman before. And she’d thrown it back in his face. ‘I’m cold and heartless, isn’t that right, Millie? Wasn’t that what you were going to say?’

‘I wish I’d never met you.’

‘Now, that’s just childish.’ Leandro suppressed a yawn and she looked away.

‘Our relationship was a disaster.’

‘I wouldn’t say that. For a short time you were a revelation in bed, and I was reasonably entertained by your gift for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.’

‘It’s called telling the truth.’ She glared at him through lashes spiked with rain. ‘Where I come from, that’s what people do. They tell it like it is and that way there’s no confusion. When someone says, “Lovely to see you,” they mean it. In your world when someone says, “Lovely to see you,” they certainly don’t mean it. They kiss you even though they hate you.’

Leandro added ice to his glass. ‘It’s a standard social greeting.’

‘It’s superficial—everything about your world is!’ She sprang off the bed and walked towards him, her eyes flashing fire. ‘And that included our relationship.’

‘I’m not the one who called time on our marriage.’

‘Yes, you did!’ Angry and hurt, she faced him. ‘You blame me for walking out, but what did you think I’d do, Leandro? Did you think I’d say, “Don’t worry, that’s fine by me”?’ Her voice rose, trembling and thickened by pain. ‘Did you think I’d turn a blind eye? Maybe that’s what women do in your world, but that isn’t the sort of marriage I want. You slept with another woman and not just any woman.’ Her breathing was jagged. ‘My sister. My own sister.’ Her distress was so obvious that Leandro gave a frown.

‘You’re working yourself up into a state.’

‘Please don’t pretend you care about my feelings because you’ve already amply demonstrated that you don’t.’ Holding herself together by a thread, she wrapped her arms around her body and met his gaze.

Brave, he thought absently, part of him intrigued by the sudden strength he saw in her. Yes, she was upset. But she wasn’t caving in, was she? He hadn’t known that she possessed a layer of steel. By the end of their relationship he’d come to the conclusion that she was so lightweight that the only thing preventing her from being blown away was the weight of his money in her handbag.

Leandro’s hand tightened on his glass and then he lifted it to his lips and drained it. Then he placed the glass carefully on the table in front of him.

‘Given the circumstances of your departure, I’m surprised you chose to come back.’

Sinking back onto the side of the bed, the fight seemed to go out of her and she suddenly looked incredibly tired. Tired, wet, beaten. ‘If you thought I wouldn’t then you know even less about me than I thought you did.’

‘I never knew you.’ It had been a fantasy. An illusion. Or maybe a delusion?

‘And whose fault is that? You didn’t want to know me, did you? You weren’t interested in me—just in sex, and when that—’ She broke off and took a breath, clearly searching for the words she wanted. ‘I wasn’t right for you. To start with you liked the fact that I was “different”. I was just an ordinary girl, living in the country, working on her parents’ farm. Unsophisticated. But the novelty wore off, didn’t it, Leandro? You wanted me to fit into your life. Your world. And I didn’t.’

Watching her so closely, he was able to detect the exact moment when anger turned to awareness.

Her eyes slid to his bare, bronzed shoulders and then back to his. It was like putting a match to kerosene. The chemistry that had been simmering exploded to dangerous levels and she turned away with a murmur of frustration, although whether it was with herself or him, he wasn’t sure. ‘Don’t you dare, Leandro! Don’t you dare look at me like that—as if everything hasn’t changed between us.’

‘You were looking at me.’

‘Because you’re standing there half-naked!’

‘Does that bother you?’

‘No, it doesn’t.’ She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, trying to warm them. ‘I don’t feel anything for you any more.’

‘Oh, you feel plenty for me, Millie,’ Leandro said grimly, ‘and that’s the problem, isn’t it? You hate the fact that you can feel that way. A woman like you shouldn’t find herself hopelessly attracted to a bad boy like me. It’s not quite decent, is it?’

‘I’m not here because of you.’

‘Of course you’re not.’ His tone caustic, he watched as she flinched away from his words. ‘You wouldn’t have made the journey for something as trivial as the survival of our marriage, would you? That was never important to you.’ Filled with contempt, Leandro lifted the glass, wondering how much whisky it was going to take to dull what he was feeling.

‘Are you drunk?’

‘Unfortunately, no, not yet.’ He eyed the glass. ‘But I’m working on it.’

‘You’re totally irresponsible.’

‘I’m working on that, too.’ He was about to lift the glass to his lips when he noticed that the sole of her boot was starting to come away. Remembering how obsessive she’d been about her appearance, he frowned. ‘You look awful.’

‘Most people would look awful compared with the cream of Hollywood,’ she said tartly. She lifted her hand and he thought she was going to smooth her damp hair, but then she let her hand drop as if she’d decided it wasn’t worth the effort. ‘She’s very beautiful.’

He heard the pain in her voice and gritted his teeth. ‘Jealousy was the one aspect of our relationship at which you consistently excelled.’

‘You’re so unkind.’

Leandro discovered that his fingers had curled themselves into a fist. ‘Unkind?’ His mouth tightened. ‘Yes, I’m unkind.’

‘Do you love her?’

‘Now you’re getting personal.’

‘Of course I’m getting personal! Did my sis—?’ Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. ‘Did…Becca know you were seeing the actress?’

The mention of that name made Leandro want to drain the bottle of whisky, as did the unspoken accusation behind her words. ‘Are you blaming me for the fact that your sister crashed the car while under the influence of drink and drugs?’

‘She drank because you rejected her! She was suffering from depression.’

Thinking about what he knew, Leandro gave a humourless smile. ‘I’ll just bet she was.’

She sprang to her feet and crossed the room with the grace of a dancer. ‘Don’t you dare speak about the dead like that! If anyone was responsible for my sister’s fragile mental state, it’s you. You broke her heart.’

And Leandro committed the unpardonable sin. He laughed. And that grim humour cost him.

She slapped him.

Then she put her hand against her throat and stepped backwards, as if she couldn’t believe what she’d done. Her skin was so pale she reminded him of something conjured from a child’s fairy story.

‘I should probably apologise but I’m not going to,’ she whispered, her fingers pressed against her slender neck. ‘Do you know the most hurtful part of all this? You don’t even care. You destroyed our marriage for sex. It didn’t even mean anything. If you’d loved her maybe, just maybe, I would have been able to understand all this, but for you it was just physical.’

‘As a matter of interest, did you say any of this to her?’

‘Yes. Actually, I did. I went to see her just after she was admitted to that clinic in Arizona. I…’ She rubbed her fingers across her forehead. ‘I needed to try and understand. She confessed that she was so madly in love with you that she wasn’t thinking clearly.’

‘She knew exactly what she was doing,’ Leandro said flatly. ‘The only person your sister ever loved was herself. That was probably the only thing we ever had in common.’

‘That’s a very cynical attitude.’

‘I’m a cynical guy.’

‘So you wrecked our marriage for a woman you don’t even care about.’

‘I didn’t wreck our marriage, agape mou,’ Leandro spoke softly, his eyes fixing on her white face, as he hammered home his barb. ‘You did that. All by yourself.’

If he’d hit her, she couldn’t have looked more shocked. ‘How can you say that? What did you expect? I’m not the sort of woman who can turn a blind eye while her husband has an affair. Especially when the woman involved was his wife’s sister. You made her pregnant, Leandro! How was I supposed to overlook that?’ Visibly distressed, she turned away. ‘What I don’t understand is why, if you wanted my sister, did you bother with me at all?’

Leandro let that question hover in the air. ‘And does the fact that you don’t understand help you draw any conclusions?’

His question drew a confused frown and he realised that she was too upset to focus on the facts.

She’d seen. She’d believed. She hadn’t questioned. Hadn’t cared enough to question and the knowledge that she hadn’t cared left the bitter taste of failure in his mouth.

In a life gilded by success, she’d been his only failure.

Leandro flexed his shoulders to relieve the tension and the movement caught her attention, her eyes drifting to the swell of hard muscle. Her gaze was feather light and yet he felt the responding sizzle of sexual heat and almost laughed at his own weakness.

It seemed his body was nowhere near as choosy as his mind.

Millie stared at him for a long moment and then sank her teeth into her lower lip. ‘Leandro, do me a favour.’ Her voice was strained. ‘Put your shirt on. We can’t have a proper conversation with you standing there half-naked.’

‘This may surprise you, but I’ve been known to conduct a conversation even when naked.’ His sardonic tone masked his own anger and brought a flush to her cheeks.

‘I’m sure. But if it’s all the same with you, I’d like you to get dressed.’

‘Why? Is the sight of my body bothering you, Millie?’ His tone silky smooth, Leandro strolled across the bedroom and retrieved his shirt from the floor. ‘Are you finding it hard to concentrate?’ He shrugged the shirt back on, discovered that there were no buttons and spread his arms in an exaggerated gesture of apology. ‘She was a bit over-eager, I’m afraid. This is the best I can do.’

‘It’s fine.’ She averted her eyes, but not before both of them had shared a memory they would rather have forgotten. ‘The media have been running the story for days now, and it’s awful. Somehow they know about you and my sister, and they know the baby’s been brought here.’ Her voice wobbled. ‘Where…?’

‘Asleep on the next floor.’ His voice terse, Leandro strolled over to the window that overlooked the garden. ‘Someone from the clinic brought the baby to me. Your sister left him alone and uncared for while she went for her little drive. He was found crying and neglected.’ The anger in him was like a roaring beast and he was shocked by the strength required to hold it back. Control was a skill he’d mastered at an impossibly young age, but when he thought of the baby his thoughts raced into the dark. ‘Evidently she didn’t have a maternal bone in her body.’ Another woman, another place.

‘She was sick.’

‘Well, that’s one thing we agree on.’ Infested with greed. Aware that the past and the present had become dangerously tangled and the conversation was taking a dangerous turn, Leandro changed direction. ‘Why do you think they brought the baby here, Millie?’

‘The clinic said she left a note saying that you were the father. She wanted the baby to be with family.’

He made an impatient sound, marvelling at her naivety. ‘Or perhaps she just wanted to make sure there was no chance of reconciliation between us. Her last, generous gift to you.’ His carefully planted seed of suggestion landed on barren ground.

‘There never was any chance of reconciliation.’ She didn’t look at him. ‘Where’s the baby? I should be going.’

Leandro stilled. ‘Where, exactly, are you planning to go?’

‘It’s already past midnight. I’ve booked into a small bed and breakfast near here.’

‘A bed and breakfast?’ Leandro looked at her with a mixture of disbelief and fascination, realising just how little he knew about this woman. ‘Are you suggesting what I think you are?’

‘I’m taking the baby, of course. What did you think?’

‘So you’re planning to take in your sister’s baby and care for it—this is the same baby that is supposedly the result of an affair between your own sister and your husband. Whether you think your sister was lying or telling the truth—’

‘Telling the truth.’

Leandro’s jaw tightened. ‘Whichever. Your sister wrecked your marriage. She hurt you. And you’re willing to take her baby? What are you, a doormat?’

Her narrow shoulders were rigid. ‘No, I’m responsible. And principled. Qualities that you probably don’t recognise. Am I angry with my sister? Yes, I’m angry. And that feels really horrible because even while I’m grieving I’m hurt that she could have done that to me.’ Her voice shook. ‘She behaved terribly. Some people wouldn’t forgive that. If I’m honest I’m not sure that I’ll ever forgive that. She betrayed my trust. But at least she was in love with you. And I think at the end she was truly sorry.’

Leandro raised an eyebrow but she ploughed on.

‘It was the guilt that pushed her into depression. And whatever had happened, I would never have wanted her to…’ Her voice trembled. ‘We were sisters. And as for the baby—well, I don’t believe that a child should be held responsible for the sins of his parents. My sister is dead. You can’t bring up a baby, so I will have him. He will have a loving home with me as long as he needs one.’

‘So you’re proposing to love and care for your husband’s bastard, is that right?’

‘Don’t ever call him that.’ Her eyes blazed. ‘And, yes, I’m intending to care for him. He’s three months old. He’s helpless.’

Curiously detached, Leandro looked at her. She wasn’t classically beautiful, he mused, but there was something about her face that was captivating. ‘So you have forgiven your sister.’

‘I’m working on it.’ She caught her lip between her teeth. ‘I understand the effect you have on a woman. Even that Hollywood actress was willing to humiliate herself to spend a night with you. Tell me one thing—why, when you have a reputation for not committing to a woman, did you marry me?’

‘Frankly?’ Leandro lifted his eyes from his scrutiny of her soft lips. ‘At this moment I have absolutely no idea.’

‘You really know how to hurt. You treated our marriage lightly.’

‘On the contrary, you’re the one who walked out at the first obstacle.’

Her shoulders sagged, as if she was bearing an enormous weight. ‘If you’ve said everything you wanted to say, I’d like to take the baby.’

‘As usual you are being quite breathtakingly naïve. For a start there is a pack of journalists on my doorstep. How do you think they’re going to react if you leave here clutching the baby?’

‘I think it would reflect very badly on you. But you don’t care about that, do you? You never care what people think about you. If you did, you wouldn’t behave so badly.’

Leandro pressed the tips of his long fingers to his forehead, his control at breaking point. ‘We’ll talk about this in a minute,’ he snapped. ‘For goodness’ sake, go and use the bathroom. You’re soaking wet. And next time use the front door, like my wife, instead of creeping through the garden like a burglar.’

‘Whatever you say, you wouldn’t have wanted those headlines any more than I did.’

Leandro sent her a brooding glance, marvelling that the male libido could be such a self-destructive force. ‘The headlines will stop when they realise there is no story.’

She didn’t appear to register his words. Certainly she didn’t question his meaning. ‘As soon as I’m dry, I’ll take him away. We’ll both be out of your life.’

Leandro watched in silence, allowing her to delude herself for a short time.

His wife was back.

And he had no intention of letting her walk out again.

CHAPTER TWO

NUMB with misery, Millie stood in front of the mirror in the huge, luxurious bathroom. She didn’t reach for a towel. She did nothing to improve her appearance. She simply stared at herself.

No wonder, she thought numbly. No wonder he’d strayed.

Leandro Demetrios was six feet two inches of devastatingly handsome, vibrant masculinity and she was—she was, what?

Ordinary.

She was just so ordinary.

Staring at her wild, curling hair, she reflected on how long it had taken her each day to straighten it into the tame, sleek sheet that everyone expected. And even with the weight she’d lost during the misery of the last year, her breasts were still large, and her hips curvy.

No wonder he’d chosen her sister.

Trying not to think about that, Millie ran the tap and splashed cold water on her face. One thing about already having lost your husband to another woman, she thought, was that you no longer had to pretend to be someone different. She could just be herself. What did she have to lose?

Nothing.

She’d already lost it all.

But life kept throwing boulders at her, and she had a whole new challenge ahead of her. She had to put aside all her dreams of having her own baby, and instead love and nurture the baby that had been the result of her husband’s affair with her sister.

Caught in a sudden rush of panic, Millie covered her mouth with her hand. It was all very well to say she was going to do this, but what if she looked at the baby and hated it? That would make her an awful person, wouldn’t it?

She wanted to do the right thing, she really did, but what if doing the right thing proved too hard?

Her encounter with Leandro had been a million times harder than she’d anticipated and she’d always known it was going to be awful.

Even though their marriage was over, nothing had prepared her for the agonising pain of seeing Leandro with another woman. And worse still was the realisation that she hadn’t healed at all. She wasn’t over him and she never would be.

She’d learned to survive, that was all. But life without him was flat and colourless.

‘Millie?’ Leandro’s harsh tones penetrated the closed door and she stilled, fastened to the spot like a rabbit caught in headlights. Then her eyes slid to the bolt on the door. Even Leandro in a black temper couldn’t break his way through a solid bolt, could he?

She didn’t understand his anger. Surely he should have been grateful to her for solving a problem for him. The last thing he needed in his life was a baby.

An image of the actress slid into her brain and paralysed her. For a moment she couldn’t move or think.

What had she expected? That he was sitting in alone at night, thinking of her?

‘Wait a minute!’ Hands shaking, she looked at herself in the mirror, hoping that she’d turn out to be the person she hoped she was. She didn’t want to be a pathetic, jealous wimp, did she? She wanted to have the strength to walk away from this marriage with her head held high and her dignity intact. She wanted to be mature enough to care for the baby and give him the love he deserved, regardless of how much his parents had hurt her.

That was the person she wanted to be.

Gritting her teeth, Millie turned away from the mirror, walked across the bathroom and opened the door.

Leandro was leaning against the doorframe, dark lights in his eyes warning her of just how short his fuse was. ‘What have you been doing for the last half an hour? You look exactly the same as you did when you went in. I assumed you were going to shower and change. Or at least use a towel.’

Up until that point she hadn’t realised that she’d forgotten to dry herself. ‘I…didn’t have anything to change into.’

Leandro reached out a hand and touched her damp hair with a frown of exasperation. ‘You didn’t bring any clothes.’

‘I left my suitcase on the train,’ she muttered. ‘I was…upset. And I’m only staying in London for one night. It will be fine.’ She wished she could feel angry again. The anger had given her energy to cope with the difficult situation. Without it, she felt nothing but exhaustion.

His hand dropped to his side. ‘You still have clothes here. Wear them.’

‘You kept my clothes?’ Shocked, Millie stared up at him and his cold, unemotional appraisal chilled her.

‘I hate waste and I find them useful for overnight guests.’

The barb sank deep, the pain resting alongside the earlier wounds he’d inflicted, and she wondered why it was that emotional agony could be so much more traumatic than physical wounds.

He’d dismissed her from his life so easily.

Millie thought about all the bleak, lonely hours she’d spent agonising over whether or not she was right to have walked out—about the tears she’d shed. The times she’d wondered whether he was thinking about her. Whether he cared about their break-up.

Well, she had her answer now.

He was just fine. He’d moved on—apparently with effortless ease. Which just proved that he’d never loved her. He’d married her on impulse. He’d seen her as a novelty. Unfortunately it hadn’t taken long for her novelty value to wear off. When they’d been living in their own little world everything had been fine. It had been when they’d returned to his world that the problems had started.

Did you really think you’d be able to hold him? Her sister’s sympathetic question was embedded in her brain, like a soundtrack that refused to stop playing.

‘The baby.’ Knowing that the only way she was going to be able to hold it together was if she didn’t dwell on how she felt, Millie forced herself to ask the question. ‘Who has been looking after him?’

‘Two nannies. Change your clothes,’ Leandro said roughly. ‘The last thing I need is you with pneumonia.’

‘I’m not cold.’

‘Then why are you shivering?’

Did he honestly not know? She wanted to hit him for not understanding her feelings. He possessed confidence by the barrel-load and that natural self-assurance seemed to prevent him understanding those to whom life didn’t come quite so easily. What did a man like Leandro Demetrios know about insecurity? He didn’t have a clue.

Neither had he shown any remorse for the way their relationship had ended. In fact, he’d made it obvious that he thought she’d been in the wrong.

Maybe other women would have turned a blind eye, but she wasn’t like that.

‘I’m shivering because I’m finding this situation…’ She struggled to find a suitably neutral word. ‘Difficult.’

‘Difficult?’ His sensual mouth formed a grim, taut line in his handsome face. ‘You haven’t begun to experience difficult yet, agape mou. But you will.’

What did he mean by that?

What could possibly be worse than being forced into the company of the man she adored and hadn’t been able to satisfy, and forced to care for the child he’d had with another woman? At the moment that challenge felt like the very essence of difficulty.

Feeling as though she was balancing precariously on the edge of a deep, dark pit, Millie took a deep breath. ‘I’d like to see my nephew.’ She drew the edges of her damp cardigan around her. She was shivering so hard she might have been in the Arctic, rather than his warm bedroom. ‘Where’s the baby?’

‘Sleeping. What else did you expect at this hour?’ His mouth grim, he strode across the bedroom and into the dressing room, emerging moments later with some clothes in his hands. ‘Put these on. At least they’re dry.’

‘They’re my old jeans.’ She frowned down at them. ‘The ones I wore when I first met you.’

‘This isn’t a trip down memory lane,’ he gritted. ‘It’s an attempt to get you out of wet clothes. Get back in that bathroom. And this time when you come out, make sure you’re dry.’

With a sigh, Millie turned back into the bathroom. The lights came on automatically and she stopped, remembering how that had amused her when he’d first brought her to this house. She’d walked in and out of all the rooms, feeling as though she’d walked into a vision of the future. Lights that came on when someone walked into a room, heating sensors, a house that vacuumed itself—Leandro exploited cuttingedge technology in every aspect of his life, and for her it had been like walking into a fantasy.

Trying not to think how the fantasy had ended, Millie stripped off her wet clothes, rubbed her cold skin with a warm towel and pulled on the jeans and silky green jumper he’d handed her.

She glanced in the enormous mirror and decided that the lighting had been designed specifically to highlight her imperfections. She looked nothing like a billionaire’s wife.

Emerging from the bathroom, her eyes clashed with his. ‘Now can I see the baby? I just…’ She swallowed. ‘I just want to look at him, that’s all.’ To get it over with. Part of her was so afraid she wouldn’t be able to do it.

This was a test, and she wasn’t sure whether she was going to pass or fail.

Leandro yanked a towel from the rail and starting rubbing her hair. ‘You’ve been in that bathroom twice and your hair is still soaking.’

‘You need to invest in a device that automatically dries someone’s hair if it’s wet.’

Something flickered in his eyes and she knew he was thinking of the time when he’d first brought her here and she’d played with the technology like a child with a new toy. ‘What were you doing all that time?’

Thinking about him. About her life.

Trying to find the strength to do this.

‘I was playing hide and seek with the lights. They’re a bit bright for me.’ Millie winced as his methodical rubbing became a little too brisk and tried not to think about the fact that he was turning her hair into a tangled mess.

What did it matter? What did smooth, perfect hair matter at this point in their relationship? They were way past the point where her appearance was an issue.

Leandro slung the towel over the heated rail. ‘That will do.’

‘Yes, there’s no point in working on something that’s never going to come up to scratch,’ Millie muttered, and he frowned sharply.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Nothing.’ Trying to forget her appearance, Millie lifted her chin. ‘I want to see the baby.’ At least the baby wouldn’t care whether her hair was blow-dried or not.

She felt inadequate and out of place in this man’s life, but she was here because the baby needed her. It was abandoned. Unloved. Like her…

For a whole year she’d locked herself away—protected herself from the outside world. And if it hadn’t been for the baby she would have stayed in her hiding place. Not that she’d needed to hide. Leandro hadn’t come to look for her, had he? She’d left, but he hadn’t followed.

Leandro gave her a long, hard look, as if asking himself a question.

Knowing with absolute certainty what that question was, Millie walked towards the bedroom door.

‘You can see the baby,’ he drawled as they walked out of the room. ‘But don’t wake him up.’

The comment surprised her. Why would he care whether she woke the baby or not? She’d thought he would have been only too anxious for her to remove the child and get out of his life.

Millie glanced at the paintings, reflecting that most normal people had to go to art galleries to see pieces like this. Leandro could admire them on his way to the bathroom.

Following him up a flight of stairs, she frowned. ‘You’ve put him as far away from you as possible.’

‘You think he should sleep in my bedroom, perhaps?’ His silken enquiry brought a flush to her cheeks.

‘No. I don’t think that. I can’t think of a less suitable environment for a baby than your bedroom.’

Millie leaned against the wall for support, unable to dispel the image of his hard, muscular body entwined with the sylphlike actress.

Of course he’d had relationships since they’d broken up. What had she expected? Leandro was an intensely virile man with a dark, restless sex appeal that women found irresistible. Just as she had. And her sister.

Millie gave a low moan, wondering how she’d ever found the arrogance to think their marriage could work. How naïve had she been, thinking that they shared something special. When they’d first met he’d been so good at making her feel beautiful that for a while she’d actually believed that she was.

Leandro opened a door and stood there, allowing her to go first.

Her arm brushed against the hard muscle of his abdomen and her stomach reacted instantly.

A uniformed nanny rose quickly to her feet. ‘He’s been very unsettled, Mr Demetrios,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Crying, refusing his bottle. He’s asleep now, but I don’t know how long it will last.

Leandro dismissed her with a single imperious movement of his head and the girl scurried out of the room.

Had he always been that scary? Millie wondered. Had he been cold and intimidating when she’d met him?

The answer was yes, probably, but never with her. With her he’d always been gentle and good humoured. That was one of the things that had made her feel special. The power and influence he wielded made others stutter and stumble around him, but when they’d met, she hadn’t known who he was. And that had amused him. And she’d continued to amuse him. With her, the tiger had sheathed his claws and played gently, but she’d never been under any illusions. She hadn’t tamed the tiger and she doubted any woman ever would.

As the door closed behind the girl, Millie wondered how on earth she’d ever had the courage to talk to this man.

‘Your nephew.’ He spoke the words in a low tone and Millie forced aside all other feelings and tiptoed towards the cot. Her palms were clammy and she felt ever so slightly sick because she’d pictured this scene in her head so many times, but now it was twisted in a cruel parody of her dream.

Yes, she and Leandro were leaning over a cot. But her dream had never included a baby who wasn’t hers, fathered by the man she loved with the woman who was closest to her.

Agony ripped through her, stealing her breath and her strength. She thought she gave a moan of denial, but the baby didn’t stir, his perfect features immobile in sleep.

Innocent of the tense atmosphere in the room, he was so still that Millie felt a rush of panic and instinctively reached out a hand to touch him.

Strong fingers closed over hers and drew her away from the cot.

‘He’s fine.’ Leandro’s low, masculine voice brushed against her nerve endings. ‘He always sleeps like that. When he sleeps, which isn’t that often.’

‘He looks—’

‘As though he isn’t breathing. I know.’ He gave a grim smile. ‘I’ve made that mistake several times myself. Once I even woke him up just to check he was alive. Believe me, I don’t advise it. He’s very much alive and if you poke him just to check, he’ll confirm it in the loudest possible way. He has lungs that an opera singer would envy and, once woken up, he doesn’t like going back to sleep. I had to walk him round the house for three hours.’

Leandro worried about the baby so much he’d woken him? And then he’d carried him around the house? It didn’t fit with what she knew of him.

‘What did you do with your BlackBerry?’ She asked the question without thinking and he gave a faint smile.

‘You think I spoke into the baby and tucked my mobile phone into the cot?’ His eyes were mocking and Millie looked away, flustered.

‘I didn’t think you’d want anything to do with the baby.’ In a way her question was a challenge. Would he care for a baby that wasn’t his?

For a moment—just for a moment—something shimmered between them and then she dragged her eyes away from his and focused on the baby. Her heart was thumping, her stomach was tumbling over and over. But he’d always had this effect on her, hadn’t he? He could turn her legs to jelly with just one glance. Everything else became irrelevant.

Except that it wasn’t irrelevant and she had this baby to remind her of that fact.

He lay quietly. Even in sleep Millie could see the dark feathering of his eyelashes against his cheek and the shock of dark hair. And her heart melted. To her intense relief, the baby softened everything inside her. ‘You poor thing,’ she whispered, gently touching his head with her hand. ‘You must be missing your mummy—wondering what you’re doing in this strange place.’ Aware that Leandro was looking at her oddly, she flushed. ‘Sorry. I suppose it’s a bit crazy speaking to a baby who’s asleep.’

Her eyes met his and in that single instant she knew he was thinking about the child they could have made together. The image was too painful and she looked away, determined not to torture herself with what she would never have. If she’d produced a child quickly, perhaps this would never have happened. But that had been another failure on her part. Another failure to add to the list. ‘He’s sweet. He has your hair.’

‘Then the child is a miracle of conception,’ Leandro snapped. ‘But I can assure you that your sister was definitely the mother.’

Millie struggled not to react. ‘Becca was always confident. I think that’s why she was so successful. It just didn’t enter her head that she couldn’t do something or have something.’ Even her sister’s husband. ‘Like you, she never questioned herself or doubted herself. You had that in common.’

‘Alpha woman.’

Millie looked at him. ‘Yes. She was.’ And she’d always felt insecure around her big sister. There had been just no way she could ever measure up. Even as a very young child, she’d been aware that she was walking in her sister’s shadow.

And even in death Becca had left that shadow—a dark cloud that had stolen the light from Millie’s marriage. From her life.

‘Let’s leave the baby to sleep.’ Taking control, Leandro put a hand in the centre of her back and urged her out of the room. ‘Have you eaten?’

‘No.’ Millie wondered how he could be thinking about food. ‘It’s past midnight. I was going to go straight to the bed and breakfast.’

‘You’re not going to any bed and breakfast. We need to talk—and I need coffee, so we’ll have the conversation in the kitchen.’

Too drained to argue, Millie followed him downstairs. The kitchen was another room that had surprised her when she’d first seen the house. It was a clever combination of modern and traditional, a large range cooker giving warmth and comfort, while the maximal use of glass ensured light poured into every available space. As a result the lush garden appeared to be part of the room and the table was positioned in such a way that, whatever the season, it felt as though you were sitting outdoors.

‘Sit down before you fall down.’ Leandro strolled to the espresso machine and ground some beans.

The sound pounded her throbbing head and Millie winced. ‘You still make it all from scratch, then?’ It had been one of the many things that she’d learned about him early on. He wanted the best. Whether it was art, coffee or women—Leandro demanded perfection. Which made it even more surprising that he’d picked her.

He made the coffee—as competent in the kitchen as he was everywhere else. Leandro used staff because his life was so maniacally busy, not because he was deficient in skills. And sometimes, she knew, he just preferred to be on his own.

He’d rolled back his shirtsleeves and the muscles of his forearm flexed as he worked.

Strong, Millie thought as she looked at him. He was strong; physically, emotionally—and that inherent strength was part of his devastating appeal. He was a man who led while others followed. A man women were drawn to.

‘Why didn’t you tell me that the baby had been brought here?’ To distract herself, she asked the question that was on her mind. ‘Why did I have to read about it in the newspapers?’

‘You walked out on me.’ His voice terse, he reached for a cup. ‘I had no reason to think you’d be interested.’

Absorbing that blow, Millie curled her fingers over the back of the chair. ‘Why are you so angry with me? I would have thought you’d be apologetic or at least a little uncomfortable but you’re not. You’re…’

‘I’m what, Millie?’

‘You’re…’ She hesitated. ‘Boiling with rage. And I just don’t get it.’

He didn’t reply, but she knew he’d heard her because his hand stilled for a moment. And then he lifted an empty cup. ‘Do you want one?’

‘No, thank you. You make it so strong it will keep me awake.’ Not that she’d sleep anyway. The adrenaline was pumping round her bloodstream like a drug. She wanted to walk. Pace. Sob?

Leandro waited while the thick dark brew filled the small cup. Then he walked across to the table. ‘Right, let’s talk.’ He put the cup on the table and sprawled in the nearest chair. The edges of his torn dress shirt slid apart, revealing his flat, bronzed abdomen.

Millie kept her eyes fixed straight ahead. ‘What is there to talk about?’

‘This is going to be a tiring conversation for you if you stand all the way through it. And you already look ready to drop.’

She sat, too emotionally wrung out to think for herself. ‘I’m fine.’

‘You look wrecked. You should have told me you were coming. I would have sent my private jet.’

‘I wouldn’t have felt comfortable.’

‘You’re still my wife. You’re entitled to the perks of the job.’

‘I don’t want anything from you.’ Millie sat very upright. ‘Except maybe the stuff you’ve bought for the baby. It’s a waste to buy a second pram and things. Tomorrow I’ll remove Costas from your life. You can get back to your BlackBerry and your—’ She almost said ‘actress’ but thought better of it. ‘And your undisturbed nights.’ From the corner of her eye she saw his fingers close round his coffee cup.

‘I don’t want to talk about Costas.’ He let that hover in the air while he drank his coffee. ‘I want to talk about us.’

Her heart started to thump faster because she could feel him watching her and his scrutiny made her squirm. ‘How is that relevant?’

‘It’s relevant.’

‘How? There is no “us”. There’s nothing to talk about.’ Why would he want to go back over old ground? Millie wasn’t sure she could stand reliving the whole thing again.

‘You made promises, Millie. You stood up in that little village church and made those vows.’ Leandro put his cup down slowly. ‘And then you just walked away. For richer for poorer, in sickness and in health—remember that?’

Her chin lifted. ‘Forsaking all others…’

‘I might have known you’d throw that one at me.’ He inhaled deeply, his eyes holding hers. ‘You asked me how it’s relevant—let me tell you. You’re my wife, Millie. And to a Greek man, marriage is binding. It isn’t something you opt in and out of depending on the mood. It’s forever.’

‘Leandro—’

‘You chose to come back, Millie.’ His mouth tightened and his eyes glinted hard and dangerous. ‘And now you’re going to stay.’

CHAPTER THREE

MILLIE sat in frozen silence, so stunned by his unexpected declaration that she could barely breathe, let alone speak. It took several uncomfortable moments for the full implications of his words to sink into her shocked brain.

Then she sprang to her feet and paced to the far side of the kitchen, so agitated that it was impossible to stay still. ‘You expect me to come back to you? You’re blaming me for walking away?’

‘Yes.’ His tone was hard. ‘I am.’

Millie stared at the row of shiny saucepans on the wall. ‘The fact that you won’t let me take the baby tells me only one thing.’

Leandro gave a humourless laugh. ‘I always insist that my employees are capable of thinking laterally. For some reason I didn’t apply the same standards to my wife. Take a word of advice from me—when you study a picture, there is almost always more going on than first meets the eye.’

‘I can see only one reason why you’d be so protective of this baby.’

‘Then remind me not to set you up in business. Tunnel vision is a guaranteed path to failure.’ He was a tough adversary—intelligent, articulate and able to counter every word spoken with the effortless ease of a practised negotiator. ‘Did you really think I’d let you walk out with him? A baby is a massive responsibility, requiring the ultimate commitment. Given your track record, I’m hardly likely to hand him over.’

‘My track record?’

‘When you met an obstacle in life, you walked away.’

His accusation was so unfair that her breath hitched. ‘You were with my sister. What did you expect? My blessing?’

‘You are my wife. I expected your trust.’ He was on his feet, too. And determined to halt her retreat. ‘Answer me a question.’ His handsome face taut and grim, he closed his hands over her shoulders. ‘After everything we shared—after those vows you made—why were you so quick to believe the worst of me? You stalked out that night and you never contacted me again. You didn’t ask me about it.’

Her eyes level with his bare chest, Millie’s heart was pounding uncomfortably. ‘I saw what I saw.’

‘You saw what your sister wanted you to see.’

‘I know that some of the blame lay with her, but—’

‘Not some of it,’ his tone was harsh, ‘all of it. She set you up, Millie, and you believed all the lies she fed you. And I was so angry that you believed her, I let you go. And that was a mistake, I admit that. One of many I’ve made where you’re concerned. I should have run after you, pinned you to our bed and made you see the truth.’

‘Don’t do this!’ Millie covered her ears with her hands. ‘Why are you doing this now when it’s all too late?’

‘Because this is a conversation we need to have. What about those feelings you claimed you had for me, Millie? Or was it all a damn lie because you wanted the lifestyle?’

She almost laughed at that. The lifestyle had been the problem, but he’d never understand that, would he? ‘I didn’t care about the lifestyle.’

‘Really? For a woman who didn’t care, you certainly spent enough time on your appearance.’

It was such an unexpected interpretation of the facts that for a moment Millie just gaped at him. He had no idea. ‘What you said just now,’ she croaked, ‘about a picture sometimes having another meaning—’

‘Shopping is shopping.’ There was an acid bite to his tone. ‘It’s hard to find another meaning for that. Unless you convinced yourself that it was an act of charity to prop up the world economy single-handed.’

Millie was so shocked and stung by that all she managed by way of response was a little shake of her head. ‘I was trying to be the woman you wanted me to be.’

‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’

Wasn’t it obvious? She was standing in front of him in her oldest jeans with bubbling hair and no make-up. The shiny surface of his large American fridge reflected her deficiencies back at her. Even in the kitchen there was no escape. ‘I’m not your type. We met and married in less than a month. It was just too quick. We didn’t know each other. It was a mistake.’

‘Which part, exactly, was the mistake?’ He made a rough sound in his throat and stepped towards her, trapping her against the wall with the sheer force of his presence. ‘The part when you lay underneath me, sobbing my name?’

She felt the hard muscle of his thighs against her. ‘Leandro—’

He slid his hand into her hair, tilting her face so that she was forced to look at him. ‘Or the part when you came again and again without any break in between—was that when you thought, This is a mistake?’

‘Don’t do this—please don’t do this.’ Millie pushed at his chest and immediately regretted it because her hands encountered sleek muscle and it took every fibre of her being not to slide her greedy fingers over the deliciously masculine contours of his chest.

‘When you fell asleep with your head on my shoulder, were you dreaming of mistakes?’

He’d conjured up one of her most precious memories and she closed her eyes against the tears and felt them scald the backs of her eyelids. The sex had always been incredible but also a little bit overwhelming because she could never quite let go of the thought that a man like him couldn’t possibly want a girl like her. But in those moments afterwards—those moments when he’d held her and murmured soft words against her hair—that had been her favourite time. The time she’d actually let herself believe that the fairy-tale might be happening.

‘When you told me that you loved me, Millie…’ His voice was hoarse and his fingers tightened in her hair. ‘Were you thinking that it was a mistake? Was it all a lie?’

‘No.’

Her eyes flew to his and for one desperate moment she thought he might actually kiss her. His mouth hovered, a muscle flickered in his lean, dark jaw and his eyes glittered black and dangerous. He looked like a man on the edge.

And then he stepped back from the edge, displaying that formidable control that raised him apart from other men. ‘I don’t think you know what you want, Millie. And that’s why I’m not letting you take this baby.’ With a searing glance in her direction, he closed his hand over her wrist and propelled her back to the table. ‘Sit down.’

‘Leandro, you can’t—’

‘I said sit down. I haven’t finished.’ His harsh tone was all the more shocking because she’d never heard it before. Always, with her, he’d been gentle. She’d never been on the receiving end of his biting sarcasm or his brutal frankness.

‘If you yell, I won’t listen.’

‘I’m not yelling.’ But he drew in a breath to calm himself and Millie sat, wondering again why he was so angry.