Modern Romance Collection: March 2018 Books 5 - 8. Robyn DonaldЧитать онлайн книгу.
around, the yacht moved on the slow swell of the sea and the moon rose out of the iridescent waters.
Tia gazed at Anatole across the damask tablecloth, over the candlelight between them.
‘This is the most wonderful holiday I could ever have imagined!’ she breathed.
Adoration was obvious in her eyes—for how could it not be? How could she not reveal all that she felt for this wonderful, incredible man who had brought her here? Emotion swelled within her like a billowing wave, almost overpowering her.
Anatole’s dark eyes lingered on her lovely face. A warm, honeyed tan had turned her skin to gold, and her hair was even paler now from the sun’s rays. He felt desire cream within him. How good she was for him, and how good he felt about her...about having her in his life.
‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘have you ever been to Paris?’
Tia shook her head.
Anatole’s smile deepened. ‘Well, I have to go there on business. You’ll love it!’
It felt good to know that he would be the first man to show her the City of Light. Just as it had felt good to take her on this cruise, to see her enjoy the luxury of his lifestyle. Good to see her eyes widen, her intake of breath—good to bestow his largesse upon her, for she was so appreciative of it.
King Cophetua, indeed.
But he liked the feeling. Liked it a lot. For her sake, obviously, he was finding pleasure in bestowing upon her the luxury and treats that had never come her way in her deprived life. But not just for her sake—he was honest enough to admit that. For himself too. It was very good to feel her ardent, adoring gaze upon him. It made him feel—warm.
Loved.
His mind sheered away from the word, as if hitting a rock in a stream. His expression changed as he negated what he’d just heard in his mind.
I don’t want her to love me.
Of course he didn’t! Love would be a completely unnecessary complication. They were having an affair, just as he’d had with all the women who had been in his life...in his bed. It would run its course and at some point they would part.
Until then—well, Tia, so unlike any other woman he’d known, was just what he wanted.
His only source of disquiet was that she remained so clearly uncomfortable whenever they were in company, wherever they travelled. He didn’t want her feeling out of her depth in the inevitably cosmopolitan, sophisticated and wealthy circles he moved in, and he did his best to make things easier for her, but she was always very quiet.
Thoughts flickered uneasily in his head. Had anyone ever thought to ask the Beggar Maid how she’d felt after King Cophetua had plucked her up into his royal and gilded life?
And yet when they were alone she visibly relaxed, coming out of her shell, talkative and at ease. Happy just to be with him and endlessly appreciative. Endlessly desirous of him.
He was in no hurry, he realised, to part with her.
Will I ever be? he thought. Then he put the question out of his head. Whenever that time came, it was not now, and until it did he would enjoy this affair—enjoy Tia—to the full.
* * *
Tia sat at the vanity unit in the palatial en suite bathroom, gazing at her reflection. She was wearing one of the oh-so-many beautiful dresses Anatole had bought for her over the past months of their relationship. His generosity troubled her, but she had accepted it because she knew she couldn’t move in his gilded world in her own inexpensive clothes.
And besides, none of these outfits are really mine! I wouldn’t dream of taking them with me when—
Her mind cut out. She didn’t want to think about that time. She didn’t want it spoiling this wonderful, blissful time with Anatole.
Anatole! His very name brought a flush to her cheeks, a glow to her eyes. How wonderful he was—how kind, how good to her! Her heart beat faster every time she thought of him. With every glance she threw at him or he at her, she felt emotion burn in her, coursing through her veins.
She felt her expression change, and even as it did so her gaze became more troubled still, her eyes shadowing.
Be careful! Oh, be careful! There is only one way this affair can end when it does end—like fairy gold turning to dust at dawn! And the end will be bad for you—so, so bad.
But it would be worse—and the shadow in her eyes deepened, a chill icing down her veins—much, much worse, if she let her heart fill with the one emotion that it would be madness to feel for Anatole.
I long for the one thing that would keep me in Anatole’s life for ever...
* * *
Anatole’s mood was tense. They were back in Athens, and the annual Kyrgiakis Corp board meeting was looming. It never put him in a good mood. His parents would pester him for more money—sniping at each other across the table—and only the calming presence of his Uncle Vasilis would be any balm.
Putting in long hours at the Kyrgiakis Corp headquarters, closeted with his finance director going through all the figures and reports before the meeting, meant he’d had little time to devote to Tia lately, but when he did spend time with her he could sense that something was troubling her.
He’d had no time to probe, however—he’d told himself he would get this damn board meeting out of the way and then take her on holiday somewhere. The prospect had cheered him. But not enough to lift the perpetually grim expression on his face as he’d prepared for the coming ordeal.
Now, today, over breakfast, he was running through his head all that had to be in readiness for the meeting that morning,
As well as the official business his family would expect a lavish celebratory lunch, to be held at one of the best hotels in Athens where his father liked to stay. His mother, predictably, never stayed there, but at a rival hotel. They ran up huge bills at both, for they both put their stays on the business account—much to Anatole’s irritation.
But his parents had always been a law unto themselves, and since he wanted as little to do with them as possible he tolerated their extravagance, and that of their current respective spouses, with gritted teeth. The only person he actually wanted to see was Vasilis, who’d been preoccupied in Turkey for some time now, helping one of the museums there in salvaging ancient artefacts from the ravages of war in the Middle East.
He’d invited Vasilis to lunch the day after the board meeting, knowing that even though his scholarly uncle would be far too academic for Tia his kindly personality would not be intimidating to her.
He reached for his orange juice and paused. Tia was looking at him, her fingers twisting nervously in the handle of her coffee cup, with an expression on her face he’d never seen before in the many weeks they’d spent together.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
She didn’t answer. Only swallowed. Paled. Her fingers twisted again.
‘Tia?’ he prompted.
Was there an edge in his voice? He didn’t mean there to be, but he had to get on—time was at an absolute premium today, and he needed to eat breakfast and be gone. But maybe his tone had been a bit off, impatient, though he hadn’t intended it to be, because she went even whiter. Bit her lip.
‘Tell me,’ he instructed, his eyes levelling on her.
Whatever was troubling her, he would deal with it later. For now he’d just offer some reassuring words—it was all he had time for. He set down his orange juice and waited expectantly. An anguished look filled her eyes and he saw her swallow again, clearly reluctant to speak.
When she did, he knew why. Knew with a cold, icy pool in his stomach.
Her voice was faint, almost a stammer.
‘I... I think I may be pregnant...’