Billionaire Brides: Four sexy cinderella romances

by Clare Connelly

  And he hadn’t.

  He eased her down to the ground, his hands running over her body with possessive intent. “You are beautiful.” It was a growl from the base of his throat; a deep sound laced with admiration and disbelief.

  “So are you.”

  He shrugged out of his shirt, then stepped out of his pants. He’d worn a suit to the wedding. A crisp black suit with a stark white shirt. He’d been stunning. The most glorious sight she’d ever beheld.

  She traced her bright red nails over his chest now, and almost moaned aloud as her body began to ache with a throbbing need for him.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Ready?” She asked guiltily, wondering if she’d spoken her needs out loud.

  “To swim,” he murmured, lifting her up and cradling her against his chest. This time, she resisted pointing out that he didn’t need to carry her. Her heart was turning over with anticipation, but it had nothing to do with the idea of sinking into the warm, clear water.

  “That too,” he agreed with a slow-spreading smile, showing how perfectly he understood her.

  He stepped into the pool, holding Sophie as though she were a feather. The water was deliciously warm against her skin, kept that way courtesy of the bright Mediterranean sunshine and its sheltered position from winds.

  “Look at that view,” she said with true wonderment.

  “This view?” He teased, pointedly looking at her naked chest.

  She blushed in a way that he found charming.

  “You are my wife, agape mou, you do not need to be embarrassed when I compliment you.”

  “I know,” she laughed. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now. But the truth is, and I know I can be honest with you now that you’ve signed me up for life, I’ve never, not in my whole life, been with someone like you.”

  He was careful not to betray a hint of emotion. “No?”

  “Well, let’s be realistic. It’s not like guys like you are everywhere. You are a pretty rare specimen after all, Mr Petrides.”

  “Endangered?” He said lightly, and he felt an answering sense of danger piercing his gut.

  “Definitely,” she agreed. He lowered her into the water so that just her head bobbed above the surface. “I’m in heaven.”

  “It is not a bad way to spend an evening.”

  “Did you ever think, when you were living on the streets, that this would be your future?”

  “What do you think?” He said quietly.

  “It upsets you. When I ask you about that time in your life?”

  “No.” His smile was unconvincing. “It upsets me when anyone presumes I am not still that same person. That I’m not still capable of doing whatever it takes to get my way.” He was joking, but his words sent a little frisson of emotion through her.

  “I don’t think that.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and ignored that instinctive trickle of warning. “I think you’re exactly the same person. I think that boy always had the potential to be what you are. That’s what Pierre saw in you. The real you.”

  Damn her! The certainty that she was a siren filled him once more; she was able to use her beautiful voice and words to fill in the gaps in his soul and leave total contentment in their place.

  “I see the real you,” she kissed his shoulder; it was wet and his skin was warm. Her lashes fanned against her cheeks as she thought again what she’d said only moments earlier. She was in heaven. Having never felt lonely nor unhappy, she understood now that until meeting Alex, she’d been living a half-life. She hadn’t realised it, but the ecstasy of their marriage was undeniable.

  “Do you?” He asked with a hint of disbelief. For how could she? He had married her to get her out of his sister’s life. He had seduced her to make her more his than she was Eric’s. Did she truly believe she understood him? Even he couldn’t quite believe how low he’d stooped.

  Only by holding onto the belief that she deserved this was he able to quell his guilt. He was almost positive she’d been in an inappropriate relationship with Eric. There’d been no definitive smoking gun, but within the space of a week, he’d seen too many hushed conversations to be ignored. Not to mention that infuriating tete a tete he’d witnessed as Eric had emerged from her bedroom!

  Those events, coupled with the fact she’d been involved with her previous employer amounted to one undeniable fact, in Alessandros’s mind. His wife had made a habit of mixing business with pleasure, and this last time, she’d picked the wrong wife to wound.

  “Of course.” She lifted a hand to his cheek. Though he’d shaved that morning, before the wedding, it had grown back quickly, covering his square jaw with a prickly beard.

  “And what do you see?”

  “I see someone determined. Someone good. And someone kind.” She blinked up at him and he could have groaned for how stunning she was in the soft moonlight.

  She was a woman designed to tempt men.

  Well, he had put a stop to that, at least so far as other, married men went. Men like his brother-in-law.

  But at what cost?

  Would he be able to resist her power? Or would he fall just as in love with her as the poor mugs before him?

  “And I see the real you,” he said, reminding himself as much as her that he knew what motivated her.

  “I should hope so.” She pushed away from him so that she could swim to the edge of the pool. She braced her arms across its coping and stared down at the ocean below.

  Yes, he saw the real her. She was scheming, manipulative, sexy and irresistible.

  He moved behind her, and braced himself on either side of the pool, an arm on either side of her head.

  “Excuse me, sir.” At the sound of Alena, Sophie startled.

  “Relax. It is only my housekeeper,” he whispered into her ear, keeping his body where it was to shield Sophie’s nakedness from view.

  “There is a phone call for Mrs Petrides.”

  “Who is it?” His voice was a bark.

  “Mr Sandhurst, sir.”

  “Eric?” She said, and Alex imagined he felt the quiver of anticipation in her voice. His temper spiked.

  “Tell him Mrs Petrides is otherwise occupied,” he growled, more harshly than he’d intended.

  “Alex,” Sophie whispered, wishing to turn around but not wanting to risk exposing herself to anyone.

  “Sophie, it is our wedding night. Unless there is something drastically wrong, Eric will not interrupt us.”

  “But the twins …”

  “Are fine.”

  “How do you know?” She demanded, her voice rising in intensity.

  “Because. Helena would have called me if there was a problem.”

  “Then it must be something else. Something important.” She thought of Helena, and a trickle of anxiety ran through her. “Please, Alex. I’ll be quick.”

  He compressed his lips, his temper dark.

  “Alena, please bring a phone to Mrs Petrides.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The housekeeper walked back towards the house, and once she’d disappeared inside, Sophie turned in the water.

  “I had no idea we weren’t alone.”

  “We are alone.”

  “Um, there was just someone here.”

  “Alena and Harry are my domestics.”

  “And therefore they don’t count?”

  “Well,” he smiled despite his contained fury. “Yes, they count. But they are used to being unseen, and to not seeing.”

  Sophie wondered at the impact of his words. Strangely, for she knew him to be a renowned womaniser, she hadn’t really thought of him with other woman before then. Now?

  “I guess I’m not the first woman you’ve brought here.”

  He felt a sense of satisfaction at her obvious hurt. It was beneath him, and yet he’d relished in inflicting the blow. “No.”

  She nodded slowly, her eyes not meeting his.

  “As I don’t doubt I’m not your first lover,” he said slowly.
Pryingly.

  “No,” she nodded. “You’re not.”

  Hmm. Interestingly, the discomfort was not one-sided. He didn’t like the way his gut clenched at her admission.

  “You’re my second.”

  Alessandros was very still. Even his eyes didn’t move. She lies. She lies well. She is manipulative.

  He didn’t even want to dignify her assertion with a response. Thankfully, Alena appeared before it was required of him.

  She held the cordless phone on a tray, and Alex marvelled at the gesture, as he always did. It made him feel a little like James Bond when his domestics did that kind of thing. As though he was truly lord and master with bonafide servants.

  He took the phone and handed it to Sophie, but didn’t swim away.

  “Eric, hey,” she said, her voice unmistakably upbeat.

  Alex couldn’t hear anything other than the muted hum of Eric’s words; certainly not enough to discern the detail of what he was saying.

  “I … can’t really talk about that now,” she said, her eyes lifting to Alex.

  “I understand. Just what we usually do. Yeah. Why don’t I call you in the morning? You’ll be fine. Eric? I have to go.” A pause while Eric said something else. “Okay, yes. I know. I know. Me too. Okay. Bye.”

  She handed the phone back to Alex and he pressed the red button to disconnect the call. The time it took for him to pass the receiver back to Alena should have been enough to calm him, and yet he still felt a force of emotion in his gut when he turned to face his bride.

  “I presume there was no disaster?” His voice, despite the torrent of feeling he was experiencing, was cynically cold.

  “No.” She bit down on her lip. Something had changed within his bride. She was worried. Or was she missing Eric? He closed his eyes briefly on a wave of regret.

  This plan had seemed simple at first. But if he stopped and thought about it, nothing was simple about marrying a woman he really, really didn’t trust. And deep down, possibly didn’t even like.

  Beyond sex, what did they have?

  He lifted his hands to her hips and brought her towards him. When he kissed her, it was with the deliberate intention of wiping anything from her mind but him and that moment. Their silky bodies were wet beneath the water.

  He discarded her flimsy underwear and took possession of her with a desperate hunger, made all the more desperate by a simmering anger. Against the edge of the pool, he made her his, and he made sure she understood. Eric – whatever he’d meant to her before – was in the past. He, and this odd marriage of theirs, was her future.

  Sophie stretched her arms above her head. A week of marriage to Alessandros Petrides had defied every single one of her expectations.

  Her body was relaxed and satisfied, and she seemed to be existing in a permanently exhausted state. Days were merging seamlessly into nights, as they seemed to go from bed, to the pool, then back to bed, occasionally pausing to eat a meal – just enough to sustain them and ensure their energy wouldn’t wane.

  Her smile was enigmatic as she let out a low noise of contentment.

  Across the room, in the act of dressing fully for the first time since their wedding, Alex stilled. In the reflection of the floor to ceiling mirror, he caught his wife’s image, and a tangle of dark emotions jostled within him.

  He had married her to remove an impediment from his sister’s life.

  But making love to her had made her something else.

  She was now an impediment in his life.

  No. He returned to buttoning his shirt, his face scowling darkly. That wasn’t the right word. She was an addiction and a curse.

  He knew her intimately. He knew what she liked. What she craved. What made her giggle. What made her groan. He knew that she liked to fall asleep with her head on his chest, listening to the pounding of his heart. He knew that she liked to hum to herself when she showered, and that she was always slightly off key. He knew that she hated wearing make-up and loved not wearing a bra. He knew that she had a libido that matched his, and a curiosity for the sensual world they had been exploring together. He knew that she considered apples and toast to be a complete food pyramid, particularly when topped up with coffee. And he knew that she liked to keep her toenails painted pink.

  “Why are you putting on clothes?” She asked, and the hint of betrayal in her tone brought a reluctant smile to his face.

  He moved back towards the bed, his manner difficult for Sophie to decipher. “I have to go to Athens today.”

  “Athens,” she asked, her big blue eyes wide as they startled to his.

  He made a sound of assent, and sat on the edge of the bed. He cupped a hand over her head, stroking her soft, flowing hair.

  “For how long?”

  “Only the day, or I would have suggested you come with me.” He flicked his shirtsleeve, squaring the black diamond cufflinks into place.

  “Oh.” She dropped her gaze, wondering at the sense of loneliness and dread that was already crinkling her contentment.

  “Another time, agape mou.”

  “Sure. Yes. Of course.”

  “You will miss me?” He prompted, pressing a finger beneath her chin. He wondered then at his masochistic streak. He was floundering in his plan.

  “Do you want me to miss you?”

  “Yes.” He needed space. He needed to remind himself why he had married her. And yes, she was intensely desirable but also, she was simply a means to an end.

  “Believe me, I’ll miss you.” She smiled up at him, her forlorn bearing apparently evaporating. “And I hope you’ll miss me, too.”

  He smiled at her and went to kiss her, but she put a finger on his lips. Her hands dropped to his belt and she unhooked the buckle then slid it from his pants. Alessandros wanted to maintain his schedule for the day, but curiosity held him still.

  She undid his pants quickly, and freed his length from the confines of his boxer shorts. His fascination and desire leapt forward in equal measure.

  She sat on his lap, easing herself onto his arousal while her arms wrapped around his waist and her mouth sought his. She was in complete control, taking him at her pace, and he allowed her the freedom to dictate their love-making. Her need for him was a heady aphrodisiac.

  Her fingernails scratched through his shirt and his impatience grew. She moved slowly and sweetly, but he wanted more. He gripped her hips, and took control, moving her faster and firmer, until her face was pink and her voice was a fever pitch of longing.

  They ascended the heavens together, an orgasm tore through them as one; they held each other tight, their bodies a mass of limbs and flesh. Sophie could have wept.

  Her need for him was a bottomless well. No matter how often they came together, she craved him with a terrifying intensity.

  “I will miss you.” His voice was gravelly. His hands – so insistent when they were making love – were gentle now as they stroked her nakedness lovingly.

  “Why are you going?” She shifted her weight, and he smiled as he felt her body flicker in a post-love-making reaction.

  “I am interviewing your replacement.”

  “My replacement?” She startled, shifting her head so she could look at him properly.

  “Mmm. Helena will need help, now that you are here with me.”

  “Oh!” She blinked, her features showing her surprise. “Surely that’s something Eric and Helena should handle?”

  She didn’t understand the expression in his eyes. “My sister has entrusted me with the hiring of her aid.”

  Sophie chewed on her lower lip.

  “You do not think this is a good idea?” He prompted, running his hands over her arms until he could link his fingers in hers.

  “I … no. I didn’t say that.”

  “Yes, you did,” he laughed. “You said it with the this little pout,” he ran a finger over her lips. “And this little line,” he pointed between her brows.

  She nodded slowly. The secret worries she had about Hel
ena had been becoming more and more burdensome. Not telling the man she loved that she thought Helena was suffering from depression now felt like a giant omission. The loyalty that had been so easy to claim for Eric was now being torn in two. Ultimately, she had to think of Helena and the boys. What was best for them? Helena needed help, of that Sophie was absolutely certain. And the boys?

  Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest as she pictured them. A wave of sadness swept over her. The boys. Were they missing her as she was them?

  She moved away from him, and stood, nibbling her lower lip as she tried to work out how to move forward. “It’s important to find the right fit,” she said quietly, toying with the silky blonde ends of her hair.

  “Of course,” he agreed, standing and redressing.

  But Sophie was anxious. “Do you have long before you go?”

  “I am already later than I intended to be, courtesy of my wife.”

  She swallowed past the anxiety in her throat. “I’ll see you tonight?”

  “I’ll be late. Don’t wait up.” He kissed the tip of her nose and then stalked from the room. She watched him go with the certainty that she no longer knew who she was.

  How had she let that happen?

  She’d known him for barely a month! A month! And she could no longer see where she ended and he began.

  She kept herself busy to stave off the way she missed him. Corfu was a beautiful island, and the town was a relatively short drive from Alessandros’s villa. But she didn’t yet feel up to driving one of his expensive sports cars, especially on the wrong side of the winding roads. And so she explored his villa instead. Rooms of beautiful things, it had been expertly decorated. There were photographs of Helena and the children in several of the rooms, and in the loft upstairs, a collection of pictures they’d posted to him over the years.