Proof Of Their Forbidden Night (Mills & Boon Modern)

by Chantelle Shaw

  ‘Touch me,’ he said thickly, and she was happy to obey, running her hands over his powerful chest. But then he captured her hands in one of his and held them above her head while he kissed his way down her body. He pushed her legs apart, his warm breath stirring the cluster of curls at the junction of her thighs before he put his mouth on her and took her to the edge of insanity with his wickedly inventive tongue.

  By the time he drove his bold erection deep inside her, Isla was still trying to catch her breath after he’d given her two shattering orgasms with his mouth and fingers. She loved the feel of him inside her, filling her, and she lifted her hips to welcome each hard thrust as he took her to the edge of the precipice yet again.

  He paused and stared down at her, and she could not define the almost haunted expression that darkened his blue eyes. The air between them trembled with something fragile and ephemeral, and then Andreas pulled back and drove into her one last time, his harsh groan mingling with her cries of pleasure as they tumbled over the edge together.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE HELICOPTER LANDED on Louloudi and Andreas climbed out and scanned the garden, hoping to see Isla walking across the lawn to meet him. There was no sign of her and his jaw clenched with disappointment. He had only been away for a few hours but he’d missed her.

  The thought made him frown. Missing her suggested that he’d formed some sort of emotional bond with her, but that was a ridiculous idea. He separated the people in his life into distinct categories: family, friends, work associates and lovers. Isla fell somewhere between the first and the last. She was the mother of his child, although neither she nor his son bore his name. Yet to describe her as his mistress simply did not cover his fascination with her.

  They had been living together on the island for almost three weeks and Andreas felt a contentment he’d never felt before. Karelis Corp was safe and its share price had continued to climb since the problems it had faced a year ago. He had the full support of his board and had proved he was a worthy successor to Stelios. But he was determined not to allow work to dominate his life like his father had done and, although he went to his office in Athens most days, he returned to Louloudi every afternoon so that he could spend time with Loukas.

  He thought about Isla all the time. He was addicted to her as if she were a narcotic in his blood, and he was fairly certain that she was as swept away by their passion as him. But, apart from her cries of pleasure every time he gave her an orgasm, she was otherwise coolly composed so that he had no idea what she was thinking, and it frustrated the hell out of him.

  Holding the box which he had brought with him from Athens under his arm, he walked into the villa and checked the ground floor rooms before he went upstairs in search of Isla. Concern for her had been the reason why he had left work early. He strode across the sitting room of his private suite, halting in the doorway that led into the nursery.

  Isla was rocking Loukas in her arms. Her eyes widened in surprise when she glanced over and saw Andreas but there was no welcoming smile on her lips. She placed the baby in the cot and walked towards him. His stomach clenched when he saw tears on her lashes.

  ‘I suppose you’ve seen the awful things that are being said about me on social media?’ She closed the nursery door and picked up her phone from the coffee table. ‘Many of the tabloids printed a photo of us kissing. The picture must have been taken without our knowledge when you took me shopping in Athens last week. It was such a lovely day, but now this—’ She thrust her phone at him.

  Andreas did not need to look at the screen. He’d already seen the damning photograph, and he silently cursed the impulse that had come over him while they had been strolling through a park to pull her into his arms and kiss her. He never made a public spectacle of himself, but Isla had said something which had made him laugh, and when he’d looked at her lovely face he’d felt as though they were the only two people in the world.

  He had given in to his urgent need to kiss her, forgetting that as the head of one of Greece’s most prominent companies he was easily recognisable by the paparazzi. Evidently a journalist had also recognised that Isla had been Stelios Karelis’s fiancée.

  ‘The most popular story trending on social media platforms is that I am a gold-digger who had previously hooked up with your ageing father, and now I’ve turned my feminine wiles on you,’ she said in a choked voice. ‘I’m just glad that we left Loukas on Louloudi with Toula, and the media haven’t found out that we have a baby.’

  ‘But we can’t keep him hidden for ever,’ Andreas said quietly. Their privacy was protected while they remained on the island but it couldn’t last. ‘I haven’t even told my sister that we have a baby. But I don’t want a nosey journalist to find out about Loukas and write an exposé about our—’ he made speech marks with his fingers ‘—“secret love child”. We need to take control of the situation and issue a press statement to announce that we have a son. And...’

  He hesitated and caught hold of her hands. As he stared at her, he was aware of an indefinable tugging sensation in his chest when he saw that her eyes were the colour of wet slate, glistening with tears.

  There was only one option open to them that made sense. It was Loukas’s right to grow up a Karelis and have the support and love of both his parents. Determination swept through Andreas. Over the past weeks he knew that he and Isla had become friends as well as lovers.

  In truth, it had surprised him. He’d never before had a friendship with a woman. He got on well with female work colleagues and he usually parted on good terms with his mistresses. But essentially he was a man’s man, and during the years that he’d raced motorbikes his friends had been mainly other bikers and engineers. The high testosterone atmosphere of the racing circuit hadn’t given any opportunity for soul-searching conversations, he thought wryly.

  Isla was intelligent with a dry sense of humour, and her passion for Greek history was something Andreas shared. He was proud of his homeland and glad that his son would learn about his heritage from both his parents. He and Isla could make a good life together, he brooded.

  ‘And?’ she prompted him.

  He tightened his hold on her fingers. ‘And at the press conference we will also announce our forthcoming marriage.’

  A host of complicated emotions swept through Isla but above all she felt a sense of relief. Since Andreas had accepted that he was Loukas’s father, and he’d proposed to her, he hadn’t mentioned marriage again. She had wondered if he’d changed his mind, or if he had actually been relieved that she’d turned him down. The facts had not changed however, she reminded herself. They were only discussing marriage because Andreas felt duty-bound to marry her. Yet she could not help but feel pleased that he wanted the world to know Loukas was his son.

  ‘Do you think a marriage without love would work?’ she said slowly.

  ‘I believe it has a better chance than a so-called love-match with all the expectations and often false promises people make when they mistake lust for love. But there will be love,’ Andreas murmured, and Isla’s heart skittered in her chest. ‘We both love our son and want what is best for him. You grew up without your father and neither of my parents had much time for me. Surely the most important thing is for us to give Loukas the family life that we both longed for when we were children?’

  Andreas lifted her hands up to his mouth and brushed his lips over her knuckles. The feral gleam in his eyes set Isla’s pulse racing. He never tried to hide his desire for her, and he only had to look at her to evoke an ache of longing in the pit of her stomach. But was it enough? Could a marriage based on white-hot sex and a desire to create a family for their son really succeed? If she didn’t marry him the alternatives—custody arrangements for Loukas, alternate birthdays and Christmases, perhaps sharing him with a stepmother if Andreas married someone else—made her go cold.

  ‘I have something for you.’ He released her hand
s and picked up a large, flat box that he’d placed on the sofa.

  Isla looked at him uncertainly. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Why don’t you open it and see?’ he said drily.

  She recognised the logo of a well-known fashion designer on the lid of the box and remembered that on the recent shopping trip to Athens she had visited a boutique in Kolonaki, the famous fashion district in the city. Andreas had persuaded her to try on a few dresses but she had refused to allow him to buy her anything and insisted on paying for a gorgeous blue silk dress with her own credit card.

  Isla opened the box and her heart gave a jolt when she glimpsed white lace beneath the froth of tissue paper. She was stunned into silence as she lifted the dress out of the box and held it up. It was the most exquisite wedding gown imaginable—pure white silk overlaid with delicate lace and embellished with tiny sparkling crystals. The bodice had a scooped neckline and the dress was fitted at the waist and hips before flaring dramatically in a fishtail style with a long train at the back.

  ‘While you were trying on dresses the other day, I wandered into the designer’s studio and saw this wedding dress which she had just finished creating. It is elegant and breathtakingly beautiful and I thought it would be the perfect dress for you,’ Andreas said softly.

  Isla swallowed. The dress was like something out of a fairy tale, the kind of dress that little girls dreamed they would wear when they married a prince. But little girls grew up and discovered that even handsome princes had flaws. She wouldn’t let herself get carried away by an unashamedly romantic dress, she told herself firmly.

  ‘I don’t know what to say,’ she murmured.

  Andreas’s eyes glittered as he took the dress from her and laid it over the back of the sofa. ‘Say yes, omorfia mou.’ He captured her chin between his fingers and tilted her face up to his. ‘I won’t take no for an answer. Why are you hesitating when you know in your heart that it is the right thing to do? The passion we share is unlike anything I have ever experienced.’

  She had only ever experienced passion with Andreas and he was the only man she wanted or would ever want, but she had more sense than to tell him. ‘What will happen if it burns out?’ Isla asked the question that ate away at her soul. ‘Will you take other lovers? Oh, I’m sure your affairs would be discreet, but would you expect me to turn a blind eye, or take lovers of my own?’

  A nerve flickered in Andreas’s cheek and a savage expression turned his eyes almost black. ‘I don’t suggest you try it, moro mou. I don’t share what is mine.’

  She should have been horrified by his outrageously possessive statement but Isla felt a deep sense of relief. Their relationship might be based on sex but she was secretly thrilled that Andreas had staked his claim on her. She reminded herself that she was a modern, independent woman. ‘I’m not yours,’ she whispered.

  He snaked his arm around her waist and hauled her against him. ‘Tell me that when you are lying beneath me, and I am inside you,’ he growled. ‘Tell me you are not mine when you scream my name and rake your nails down my back every time I make you come.’

  His head swooped and he covered her lips with his and kissed her without mercy, without tenderness or gentleness. It felt as if he was branding her and she did not resist him. Instead she succumbed willingly to his mastery because the only place she wanted to be was in his arms, in his bed and in his life.

  When at last he lifted his mouth from hers, they were both breathing hard. ‘I am prepared to commit totally to our marriage,’ he told her. ‘I will expect you to do the same.’

  It was a far cry from a declaration of love, but strangely she was reassured by his blunt words more than if he’d pretended to have feelings for her. She stared at his harshly handsome face and her heart turned over when he said intently, ‘So what is your answer, Isla? You are the mother of my son. Will you also be my wife?’

  She took a deep breath and prepared to leap from the mountaintop. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Have I told you how incredibly beautiful you look tonight?’ Andreas’s deep voice wrapped around Isla like a velvet cloak and helped to calm the butterflies that were leaping in her stomach.

  She looked out of the car window and grimaced when she saw dozens of press photographers armed with cameras waiting on the pavement outside the Karelis Corp building in Athens. The party to celebrate the company’s return to the top of the rankings of Greece’s most successful businesses was the social event of the year and the paparazzi were out in force.

  ‘The media have labelled me a scarlet woman so I thought I might as well dress the part,’ she said wryly.

  Her ballgown had come from the same fashion design house as her wedding dress and it was also made of silk overlaid with lace. But there the similarity between the two gowns ended. The red dress was overtly sexy. It was a halter-neck style and the chiffon top was semi-transparent at the front and left her back and shoulders bare. The long skirt had a side split that reached her mid-thigh. She was wearing more make-up than usual and her scarlet lipstick gave the illusion of self-confidence that she was far from feeling. But evidently she did not fool Andreas.

  ‘Try to relax, moro mou,’ he murmured as he picked up her hand and pressed his lips to the exquisite engagement ring—a rare and stunning round-cut blue diamond surrounded by white diamonds—that he had slipped onto her finger two days ago. ‘I have already given a press statement explaining that our relationship began after my father’s death, and I have told family members and close friends the truth—that your engagement to Stelios was a pretence so that he could hide the fact that he was terminally ill. At the party I will announce that we are engaged and soon to be married, and that we have a son.’

  She bit her lip. ‘But if the press find out Loukas’s date of birth it will be obvious that we must have slept together while I was pretending to be Stelios’s fiancée.’

  Andreas shrugged. ‘I won’t give specific details. And I doubt anyone will care, certainly not the shareholders. They will be pleased that I have thrown off my playboy image and settled down to family life and produced an heir.’

  The car stopped and the chauffeur jumped out and came to open the rear door. Andreas’s words were a timely reminder to Isla of why he was marrying her. He had been so attentive since she had agreed to marry him that she’d almost started to believe he saw their marriage as more than a convenient arrangement which would give him his son.

  She followed him out of the car, half blinded by the flashbulbs that went off around her. The photographers pressed forwards but Andreas’s security guards kept them back. He put his arm around her waist, holding her close to him in a protective manner that made her foolish heart leap.

  The opulent hospitality suite on the top floor of the building was packed with guests, all eager to glimpse the woman who had apparently captured the heart of Karelis Corp’s notoriously commitment-phobic CEO. There were murmurs of surprise when Andreas introduced Isla as his soon-to-be wife and the mother of his baby son. But the news was well-received by everyone—with one exception.

  Halfway through the evening, Andreas’s sister followed Isla into the cloakroom, which happened to be empty. Nefeli launched straight into a verbal attack. ‘I suppose you think you’re clever to have trapped Andreas with a baby. God, it’s the oldest trick in the book. But I’ve got news for you. The only reason he is prepared to marry you is so that he can regain control of Louloudi. You persuaded my father to leave you a half share of the island, but when my brother divorces you he will make sure you get nothing.’

  Isla told herself that there was no truth in Nefeli’s spiteful words. Andreas had mentioned that his sister was still struggling to accept Stelios’s death and Isla knew from when she had lost her mum that grief was a dark place. She pinned a smile on her face when she returned to the party, but a few times during the evening she looked round to find Andreas’s speculative gaze resting on her.

/>   ‘Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?’ he said later when they walked into his penthouse apartment in the city. They had left Loukas behind on Louloudi in Toula’s care. The Greek grandmother adored the baby and Isla was grateful for her advice and experience that she missed from her mum. Andreas crossed the sitting room and slid open the glass doors which led onto the balcony. It was a warm night, and a huge, bright moon hung like a silver disc above the Acropolis.

  Isla followed him outside and stared at Greece’s most iconic landmark, widely regarded as the most important ancient site in the Western world. She had been excited by the thought of living in Athens and perhaps working at the Acropolis museum when Loukas was older. But now she was full of doubts and stood twisting her engagement ring on her finger.

  ‘If you don’t like the ring you can choose a different one.’

  Her eyes flew to Andreas. ‘Oh, no, I love this one. I didn’t even know there was such a thing as a blue diamond.’

  ‘The clarity and intensity of colour is superior to a sapphire. I like how the stones reflect the light, like the sun sparkling on the Aegean Sea.’

  She chewed her bottom lip. ‘It’s not the ring.’

  ‘We could spend all night playing guessing games, but I have something much more enjoyable in mind,’ he murmured.

  ‘If we didn’t have Loukas you wouldn’t have asked me to marry you...would you?’

  He made an impatient sound. ‘But we do have our son, and he is a very good reason for us to marry. What do you want me to say?’ He raked his hair off his brow and stared at her, his eyes glittering with an emotion she could not define. And she was probably imagining it, Isla thought. Andreas did not do emotions.

  Why did she give her heart to men who did not want her love? she asked herself bitterly. She had idolised her father when she was growing up, despite the fact that she’d never met him. He had been a heroic figure in her mind, but she had discovered that he was selfish and not worthy of the tears she’d cried when he had told her to stay out of his life.