She Can't Say No to the Greek Tycoon: The Kouvaris Marriage / The Greek Tycoon's Innocent Mistress / The Greek's Convenient Mistress. Kathryn RossЧитать онлайн книгу.
she’d turned round and told him that, no, she didn’t want motherhood for at least ten years—if then, if ever—the wedding would never have taken place. He would have disappeared in a puff of smoke! Would it have happened that way? Dear God, she hoped not! But how could she know?
Then further confounded her when he said, with a sincerity she could not doubt, ‘I confess I would like more than one child, but it’s not a burning issue. Growing up, I missed my parents, wished they were still alive, wished I had brothers and sisters, a close family.’
Naked, powerful, sun-kissed shoulders lifted in a wry shrug. ‘I guess that explains why I would like a whole gang of them!’ His eyes held hers—soft eyes, soft mouth, soft smile. ‘But I promise you, chrysi mou, there is no pressure. I might desire to give you at least three babies, but it will be for you and you alone to decide. If you decide that one pregnancy is enough for you, then he or she will be enough for me, too. This I promise.’
CHAPTER TEN
FOR several moments Maddie was silent. Her brain had gone numb. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say. At least nothing that would verbalise her muddled feelings in any way that made some sort of sense.
Then, deep blue eyes wide and uncomprehending, she got out, ‘Do you really mean that?’
If he did, it altered everything. In her favour? She was unsure of that. A puzzled frown appeared between her eyes. On the one hand her whole body tingled with the electric sting of unsquashable hope, while on the other suspicion of his motives made her heart shrivel.
‘Of course I mean it!’ Lean bronzed fingers brushed her tumbling fringe aside, gently caressing away the tiny frown line. ‘Every word. It is for you to decide how large our family grows or how small it stays. What you wish is my wish too, my Maddie.’
The way he said her name made her heart turn over. As if it were spoken with devotion.
Devotion?
She might be a self-confessed hopeless sucker when he turned on the charm, but she really couldn’t let herself believe that!
Once she had believed it with all her heart and soul. True, he had never actually said he loved her but she had truly believed he did. But everything was different now. Painfully, horribly different. And she would be a fool to forget it, to let herself be carried away by the prospect of paradise—the true and loving marriage he appeared to be offering.
But those brilliant dark-lashed eyes were mesmerising her. For the life of her she couldn’t look away, even though she knew that every look, every soft word, might be hiding the harsh and ugly truth.
Unconsciously, she shook her head. ‘And if I said I wanted you to give me at least six babies.’ Her voice tailed off on an intake of breath at the enormity of her weak and instinctive compliance in his—his what?—Manipulation?
He smiled that slow, melting smile of his. ‘Then I would rejoice in your maternal if excessive desire! But I would, I think, gently persuade you to consider three a happy number. I could not stand by and see you exhaust yourself by producing the beginnings of a football team! You are far too precious to me.’
The tips of his fingers trailed lightly from her cheekbones down to the side of her jaw. Maddie closed her eyes, lost in his touch. So gentle, so caring, so achingly seductive.
The trouble with loving someone as much as she loved Dimitri was the way you wanted to believe everything he said—clung onto it because it gave you hope, conveniently forgetting everything else, she thought to herself, appalled by the weak stupidity she seemed incapable of kicking into touch.
Her mouth dry, her heart thumping heavily, she steeled herself to broach the subject of his mistress. She couldn’t afford to be confrontational, she knew that. An open attack on his motives—his downright wickedness—would only serve to elicit an immediate and vehement denial.
Aiming for a light, only vaguely interested tone, she made herself relax back against the arm he held around her waist, leaning into him, and ventured, ‘I believe Irini is unable to have children?’ She waited, feeling downright nauseous, for the telltale and instinctive tightening of his body that would tell her that her words had put him on his guard.
It didn’t come as he bent his head to rest it against hers and confirmed, sounding completely relaxed and unfazed about it, ‘No. An accident when she was a child.’ She felt his minimal shrug. ‘But it’s not the tragedy it would be for most women, believe me. Irini has a positive aversion to children; she can’t stand to be around them. There’s not one maternal bone in her body, so her infertility is for the best in my opinion. Children need love more than anything else.’
His deep, exotically accented voice carried total conviction, Maddie recognized. A long-held conviction springing from his own childhood when he’d had precious little love and affection after the deaths of his parents when he was little more than a baby.
Her mouth ran dry as her heart picked up speed. He was genuinely as pleased as punch at the prospect of fatherhood. Surely he wouldn’t contemplate giving any child of his into the care of a woman who plain didn’t like children and wouldn’t give the child the love he claimed was more important than anything?
Her head spinning with what her heart was telling her, she found herself looking up into his riveting, fantastic golden eyes as he shifted slightly and cupped her face in large, gentle hands.
For better or for worse. Logically, that was what she was accepting. Give him the children they both wanted and their marriage would remain important to him, she would be important to him.
And Irini? Well, as sure as night followed day Maddie couldn’t see her hanging around while she, Maddie, produced gorgeous babies in the image of their charismatic father.
He loved the other woman—she herself had actually heard him express that emotion, so no way could she pretend it wasn’t the case—and according to Amanda their names had been coupled, eventual marriage between them the general expectation, long before she, Maddie, had come on the scene.
Could she live with him, bear his children, knowing he still wanted the Greek woman, still loved her?
She could if she tried with everything in her to earn his love for herself. As the mother of his children she could make him forget the other woman, she answered herself, with the kind of elated determination she hadn’t experienced for ages.
Feeling hypnotised by the warmth of those glinting, tawny lights, she felt her own eyes widen as her breathing fractured, the familiar tightening, the pooling of heat that surged to electrifying excitement swamping her as he murmured, ‘Do we make tracks? Or do we spoil ourselves and make love again?’
‘What do you think?’ Her smile was luminous. Slim arms reached for him as unstoppable response rocked through her. She simply couldn’t stop loving him, wanting him, needing him. She might be stupid, walking into a trap with her eyes wide open, but this last week had taught her that she just couldn’t help herself and that the trap, if there was one, could be rendered harmless by the strength of her love for him.
Even in the gathering twilight those thickly fringed eyes gleamed with molten gold as Dimitri offered, ‘I forgot to ask—was your mother half as delighted as I was when you told her our news?’
Gathering her thoughts, Maddie forked up a morsel of the tender lamb in a delicious herby sauce Xanthe had prepared for the evening meal. The stone-paved terrace was lit with lanterns, and between them a candle in an amber glass bowl cast a warm glow over the delicate cast-iron table, set with dishes of salads and tiny almond cakes.
Reaching for her glass of iced water, Maddie let her eyes drift over his impressive frame. He was wearing a white shirt in the softest of cottons, tucked into a pair of narrow-fitting beat-up denim jeans, his dark hair just slightly rumpled, the evidence of emerging dark stubble shadowing his tough jawline.
In Athens he was never less than perfectly groomed, dressed in beautifully tailored dove-grey or light tan suits over pristine,