Latin Lovers: Greek Tycoons: Aristides' Convenient Wife / Bought: One Island, One Bride / The Lazaridis Marriage. Rebecca WintersЧитать онлайн книгу.
and turned her to face the guests, well aware of her initial reluctance.
And it wasn’t so bad, Helen conceded a few hours later. She had managed to control her urge to flinch every time Leon looped an arm around her waist, reminding herself it was necessary for Nicholas’ sake. If she had to grit her teeth occasionally to subdue the little nervous tremors that afflicted her when he laid his hand on hers at the table or touched her cheek in an apparently affectionate gesture for the benefit of the guests, nobody seemed to notice. And after a long, leisurely meal and two glasses of champagne Helen was convinced she was over the worst and her self-confidence was restored.
Alex Stakis had made a speech, and Leon had said a few words, and then the party had moved from the dining room into a huge drawing room and become more informal.
She had met Leon’s friend and lawyer, Chris Stefano, and his wife Mary who was English and also a lawyer before her marriage. Helen liked her and quickly discovered Mary was the proud mother of an eight-year-old boy, Mark, and twins, a boy and a girl who were the same age as Nicholas, and, as they were all bilingual, the children quickly made friends.
Alone for a moment, Helen allowed herself a sigh of relief. Thankfully Leon had finally left her side and was deep in discussion with Chris Stefano and another man. She glanced around the room. Sophisticated, elegant people stood around in groups chatting and drinking. Not really her scene at all, and thanks to Nicholas she was hopelessly overdressed.
‘You look a little lost.’ Mary Stefano approached her. ‘Don’t worry, you will get used to it,’ she said with a glance across to the group of men. ‘I have been married to Chris for nine years and in all that time I have never been to a party, wedding or baptism where the men haven’t ended up discussing business, especially Leon and Chris.’ She grinned.
‘I can see that.’ Helen smiled back.
‘Well, look on the bright side—at least you will have Leon to yourself on the honeymoon.’
‘We’re not having a honeymoon,’ Helen declared quickly, the very thought made her inwardly shudder. ‘Leon is far too busy, and I have to take care of Nicholas.’
‘Not much of a wedding night with your son around to wake you at the crack of dawn.’
‘Oh, Nicholas is not my son,’ Helen declared swiftly. ‘He is Delia’s child, but I have always helped to look after him while she studied.’ A sad smile curved her lips. ‘Now with Delia gone—’
‘Delia’s, you say?’ Mary cut in and gave her an odd look. ‘I see, well, I’d better go and find my brood. It is almost seven, time we left.’
Puzzled by Mary’s comment, Helen paused for a moment. Surely Leon must have told his friends Nicholas was Delia’s child. She was about to follow Mary and ask her, but before she could move the celebrant appeared at her side and began a long conversation in a mixture of English and Greek. Good manners dictated she stay and listen. Her own command of Greek was slight, only what she had picked up from her grandfather and Delia when she had been teaching Nicholas.
He, on the other hand, being so young, had grasped the language remarkably well, and Helen had no doubt after a few weeks living in Greece he would be speaking it like a native.
Finally the celebrant left to refill his glass and Helen turned towards the door, intending to look for Nicholas.
‘Helen.’ A long arm snaked around her waist. ‘Going somewhere?’
She stiffened automatically and tilted back her head to glance up into the hard face of Leon. ‘I’m going to find Nicholas, it is past time he was in bed.’
‘There is no need. Mary and Chris are taking him to stay at their house for the night.’
‘Whatever for?’ And not giving him time to respond, she said swiftly, ‘Nicholas has never been away from me for a whole night before.’ She felt his hand tighten on her waist and saw the mockery in his dark eyes and suddenly the old tension Helen felt around him returned.
‘Then it is about time he was. I know you love him, but you are in danger of smothering him,’ he told her bluntly. She opened her mouth to object but he cut in dryly, ‘Before you say anything else, Mary offered to take him after you told her we had no honeymoon planned. Nicholas is delighted at the idea, and here they come.’
Helen walked into her bedroom and closed the door behind her. It was over. She pressed a light switch and the room was dimly illuminated by a couple of bedside lamps. For the first time in over three and half years there was no Nicholas to check on, and the knowledge was saddening. From being virtually the centre of his universe she had to accept he was growing up; his life, his horizons, were expanding, which was as it should be.
Leon had been right about Nicholas; with a kiss and a hug for Helen, he had left happily with Mary and her family. It had taken another few hours and another buffet-style meal before the final guest had departed, and she had been left alone with Leon. She had refused his offer of a nightcap pleading exhaustion, which wasn’t far from the truth.
Sighing, she pulled the garland from her head, a brief smile curving her lips. Well, at least Nicholas had got his wish. She walked into the huge en suite bathroom that was bigger than her bedroom at home. Along with the usual luxurious fixtures there was a huge circular spa bath almost big enough for her to swim in.
Helen slipped out of the dress and her briefs, dropping them on the floor. She piled her hair into a shower cap, and took a quick shower, before wrapping a huge bath sheet sarong-style around her naked body. She crossed to the double vanity basin where she had left her toiletries and picking up a brush, swiftly brushed the carefully contrived ringlets out of her hair until it fell in its usual soft waves around her shoulders. No sign of a bride remained, she thought, tucking her hair behind her ears, and picking up her discarded briefs, she dropped them in the laundry bin before gathering up her dress and entering the adjoining dressing room.
They were the only rooms, plus the nursery suite across the hall that was Nicholas’ that she could safely say she knew how to find. Tomorrow morning she really must get Anna to give her a guided tour of the house. There had not been time yesterday and today she had merely gone where she was told.
Helen opened the closet where her clothes had been stowed with Anna’s help the night before and hung the dress up. Opening a drawer, she ignored the flimsy negligee and withdrew a knee-length cotton nightshirt she usually wore around Nicholas. A tender smile curved her lips as she glanced at the print of the two teddy bears on the front. Nicholas had told her the first time he had seen her wearing it that the shirt made her look doubly cuddly.
She was smiling as she wandered back into the bedroom, and tripped over the bottom of the bath sheet.
‘Careful.’ Two strong hands grasped her shoulders and steadied her. ‘There is no need to kneel at my feet just yet,’ a deep voice drawled mockingly.
‘You!’ she exclaimed, looking up into the amused dark eyes of Leon. ‘And I wasn’t,’ she snapped, shrugging his hands off her shoulders and stepping back. ‘This sheet is too big.’ And so was he.
Helen’s heart skipped a beat as her startled gaze swept over him. His tall, lithe body was clad in only a black towelling robe that exposed a large area of hair darkened chest and ended mid-thigh, revealing his long legs. For a banker, a man who did no physical work, he had a magnificent physique, the thought came unbidden to her mind.
Then suddenly she realised the only thing protecting her own naked body was a towel—a towel that, following her tripping over it, had slid perilously south. She dropped her nightshirt and hastily hauled the bath sheet as far up as it would go.
‘This is my room and I would like you to leave,’ she declared a little shakily.
‘It is also mine, the master suite,’ Leon said with a soft, husky laugh and she was struck dumb by his outrageous declaration. Before she could even get her head around the fact, never mind object, his strong hands spanned her waist and he swung her off the floor.
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