Greek's Pride: The Stephanos Marriage / A Passionate Surrender / The Greek Bridegroom. HELEN BIANCHINЧитать онлайн книгу.
A faint quiver of apprehension ran through her body, and her mouth trembled as his tongue probed its soft contours, then slid between her lips to wreak sweet havoc with the sensitised tissues.
It would be so easy to melt into his arms and deepen the kiss. For a few timeless seconds Alyse ignored the spasms of alarm racing to her brain in warning of the only possible conclusion such an action would have.
A soft hiccuping cry emerged from the adjoining sitting-room, and within seconds Georg was in full swing, demanding sustenance in no uncertain terms.
‘Pity,’ murmured Aleksi as he released her, and her eyes widened, then clouded with sudden realisation as she turned quickly away from him.
Crossing into the sitting-room, she picked Georg up from his cot and changed him, then made her way to the kitchen where she heated his bottle and fed him.
He sucked hungrily, and she slowed him down, talking gently as she always did, sure that he was able to understand simply by the tone of her voice that he was very much loved. He seemed to grow with each passing day, and her heart filled with pride as she leant forward to brush her lips against his tiny forehead.
He was worth everything, anything she had to endure as Aleksi Stefanos’s wife. A truly beautiful child who deserved to be cherished, she decided wistfully as she settled him almost an hour later.
Swiftly discarding her robe, she quickly donned the silk evening suit and slipped her feet into the elegant high-heeled suede shoes. A brisk brush brought her hair into smooth order, and she sprayed a generous quantity of her favourite perfume to several pulsebeats before standing back to survey the result in the full-length mirror.
Muted chimes sounded through the intercom, and Aleksi emerged from his dressing-room.
‘That will be Melanie. She’s a dedicated law student, the eldest of five, and extremely capable. I’ll let her in.’
The breath caught in Alyse’s throat at the sight of him, and she rapidly schooled her expression as she took in his immaculate dark suit, thin-striped shirt and impeccably knotted tie.
Any feelings of unease at leaving Georg with a total stranger were dispelled within minutes of meeting the girl Aleksi introduced as the daughter of one of his associates.
‘I’ve written down the phone number of the restaurant,’ he told her, handing over a slip of paper. ‘And the apartment, in case we stop for coffee when we drop off my parents. We’ll be home around midnight. If it’s going to be any later, I’ll ring.’
‘Georg is already asleep,’ Alyse added. ‘I doubt if he’ll wake, but if he does it’s probably because he needs changing. If he won’t settle, give him a bottle. He’s just started sleeping through the night, except for the occasional evening. If you’ll come with me, I’ll show you where everything is.’
Fifteen minutes later she was seated in the luxurious BMW as it purred along the ocean-front road that led into the heart of Surfers Paradise.
‘Where are we dining?’ she asked.
‘The Sheraton-Mirage; it’s located on the Spit.’
‘Where anyone important is seen, no doubt.’ She hadn’t meant to sound cynical, and she suffered his swift analytical glance as a consequence.
‘Rachel fell in love with the resort complex when she and my father were here last year. It’s at her request that we’re dining there tonight.’
She should apologise, she knew, but the words refused to emerge, and she sat in silence until the car pulled to a halt at the entrance to a prestigious multi-storey apartment block overlooking the ocean.
At attendant slid in behind the wheel as Alyse followed Aleksi into the elegant foyer, and seconds later a lift transported them swiftly to an upper floor.
The apartment was much larger than she had expected, with magnificent views through floor-to-ceiling plate glass of the north and southern coastline. Pinpricks of light sparkled from a multitude of high-rise towers lining the coastal tourist strip, and beneath the velvet evening skyline the scene resembled a magical fairyland that stretched as far as the eye could see.
‘You look stunning, my dear,’ Rachel complimented Alyse quietly.
‘Yes, doesn’t she?’
Alyse heard Aleksi’s faintly mocking drawl, and opted to ignore it. ‘Thank you.’
‘Would you prefer to have a drink here, or wait until we’re at the complex?’
‘The complex, I think,’ Rachel concurred. ‘I’m sure Alyse will be as enchanted with it as I am.’
A correct deduction, Alyse decided on entering the wide lobby with its deep-piled blue carpets, cream marble tiles and exotic antiques. The central waterfall was spectacular, as was the tiled lagoon with its island bar.
‘We must come out during the day,’ Rachel declared with a smile. ‘The marina shopping complex directly across the road is delightful. We could explore it together, and share a coffee and chat.’
‘My wife adores to shop,’ Alexandros informed Alyse with a deep drawl not unlike that of his son.
They took a seat in the lounge-bar and Alyse declined anything alcoholic, aware of Aleksi’s faintly hooded appraisal as she voiced her preference for an order identical to his stepmother’s request for mineral water spiked with fresh orange juice.
‘My dear, don’t feel you must abstain simply because I choose to do so.’
‘I don’t drink,’ she revealed quietly. ‘Except for champagne on special occasions.’
‘Dom Perignon?’ queried Rachel with hopeful conspiracy, and Alyse smiled in silent acquiescence.
‘In that case, we’ll indulge you both at dinner,’ said Aleksi, giving the waiter their order, then he sat well back in his chair, looking infinitely relaxed and at ease.
Alyse would have given anything to be rid of the nervous tension that steadily created painful cramps in her stomach. It was madness to feel so intensely vulnerable; insane, to be so frighteningly aware of the man seated within touching distance.
The image of his kiss, so warm and infinitely evocative, rose up to taunt her, and she had to summon all her reserves of willpower to present a smiling, seemingly relaxed façade.
No matter what private aspirations Rachel and Alexandros held for their son’s marriage, it was apparent that the union afforded them tremendous pleasure. Equally obvious was an approval of their daughter-in-law, and Alyse experienced a feeling of deep regret—not only for Antonia’s loss, but for her own. If she could have selected ideal parents-in-law, it would be difficult to choose a nicer couple than Aleksi’s father and stepmother.
Such introspection was dangerous, and it was a relief when they entered the restaurant and were shown to their table.
THE SETTING WAS superb, the food a gourmet’s delight, presented with flair and artistry. Except that Alyse’s appetite seemed to be non-existent as she selected cream of mushroom soup, then followed it with crumbed prawn cutlets.
After sipping half a flute of champagne she felt more at ease, but she was supremely conscious of Aleksi’s solicitous attention, the accidental brush of his fingers against her own, and the acute sensation that he was instigating a deliberate seduction.
Consequently it was a relief when Alexandros asked if she’d care to join him on the dance floor.
Alyse spared Rachel an enquiring smile. ‘Do you mind?’
‘Of course not, my dear.’ Rachel’s features assumed a faintly mischievous expression. ‘Aleksi and I will join you.’
Alexandros,