Marriage Make-Up & an Heir to Bind Them

by Penny Jordan

  It was impossible for her not to look at his mouth and, having done so, even more impossible for her not to close the final distance between them with a small sound somewhere between a sigh and a plea, her face lifting automatically towards his, her lips parting.

  ‘Abbie, Abbie, I love you so much, and I’m tired of playing the coward, being afraid to risk losing what little bit of you I have by admitting to you how I feel. This charade of our wanting to resurrect our love is no charade for me. I can’t expect you to forgive me, and I certainly don’t expect you to forget the past, nor to put either Cathy’s or my needs and emotional desires above your own, and if it is just the rekindled flames of the physical passion we once shared that makes you respond so heart-achingly in my arms then you must tell me so, because physical desire alone will never be enough for me…’

  ‘Not for me either,’ Abbie admitted shakily. ‘I… that was why… I thought that was the way it was for you…just…just a physical…’

  She tried to protest as he started kissing her, reminding him that they were in someone else’s home and could all too easily be interrupted by other departing guests coming in search of their coats, but the sensation of his mouth moving against hers, the passionate, intense thrust of his tongue, the knowledge that the desire she could feel in him was born of love and not lust, made it impossible for her to resist him for very long, and it was several minutes before she could tell him huskily, ‘Sam, I love you so much. How could I ever have let you go? How did I ever live all those years without you?’

  ‘It was my fault.’ Sam checked her soberly. ‘Mine and—’

  ‘No, we were both to blame,’ Abbie interrupted him firmly. ‘We both made mistakes.’

  ‘Oh, Abbie, I don’t deserve such generosity,’ Sam protested gruffly as he took her back in his arms, and as she lifted her head to look at him Abbie could see the faint sheen of tears in his eyes.

  ‘Oh, Sam,’ she whispered emotionally.

  ‘Oh, Abbie,’ he returned, lifting the hand she had raised to his damp face to his lips and asking her, ‘Will you think it unmanly of me if I tell you that these are far from being the first or only tears I’ve cried over you? Over you and for you—whilst I’ve lain in bed at night aching for you, cursing myself, wishing to hell I could turn back the clock and rewind time. I warn you now, Abbie, this time it’s for ever, for eternity, infinity…for life and beyond life.’

  ‘Yes,’ Abbie agreed as she lifted her face for his kiss. ‘Yes, yes. Oh, yes, Sam. Yes…’

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ Sam suggested fiercely as he bent his head to kiss her. ‘There are some things, some vows I may only want to make in private…preferably somewhere in the kind of privacy which includes a bed…an extremely large bed. Things which could, if we’re lucky, take a long time to say and do…an extremely long time,’ he added meaningfully.

  Abbie laughed and whispered back appreciatively, ‘I know the very place…’

  ‘And tomorrow morning when you wake up in my arms there won’t be any going back…any rejection of one another, any refusal to accept my love?’ Sam asked her.

  ‘No,’ Abbie confirmed, her heart in her eyes as she looked at him quietly and confidently. ‘You said that we can’t forget the past, Sam, but we can use it to build our future together; we can use the mistakes we both made to build ourselves a stronger future and a stronger love. We can’t forget the past but we can learn from it.

  ‘Let’s go home,’ Sam breathed, his eyes dark with the emotions he was feeling.

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed softly, ‘let’s go home.’

  As Sam held her in his arms Abbie knew that this time when they made love there would be no holding back, no fear within her of expressing and revealing her feelings, no need for either of them to hide from one another what they really felt.

  EPILOGUE

  ‘JUST look at Mum and Dad,’ Cathy protested affectionately to her new husband. ‘Anyone would think they were the ones who had just got married and not us.’

  ‘Well, they have only been married for six weeks,’ Stuart pointed out to her as they both turned to watch Abbie and Sam as they shared a lingering kiss.

  ‘Mmm…that was nice,’ Sam murmured appreciatively as he nuzzled the creamy warmth of Abbie’s throat.

  He laughed as she gently pushed him away, reminding him, ‘This is our daughter’s wedding day, remember…’

  ‘Mmm…and officially you and I have still not had our own honeymoon,’ he pointed out in return.

  They had decided to wait until after Cathy was married before leaving for a two-month tour of Australia.

  Sam wanted Abbie to see the land that had been his home in the years they had been apart, and there were certain things he needed to do, certain ends to be tied up, before he took up his post as Senior Chair at the university.

  Abbie would have been quite happy for them to delay their own wedding until after Cathy had been married; they had, after all, been living together ever since the day they had declared their love for one another. But Sam had told her very firmly that he wanted the security of knowing that they were married. So they had very quietly, but very lovingly, been remarried in a small ceremony to which they had invited only close family and friends.

  Cathy’s wedding had been a very different affair.

  Abbie had been amazed when she’d discovered how much the hotel she remembered as such a romantic location had altered since Sam had brought her there for their first night together. He had booked the same tower suite for them when they had visited the hotel, prior to Cathy’s wedding, to make arrangements for the reception, but—and privately both Abbie and Sam had agreed—the place was just not the same.

  The hotel was much larger now, with conference and leisure facilities, and it was making an ideal venue for a wedding reception.

  As Sam took hold of her hand and they went to rejoin the others she smiled lovingly up at him. So much had changed since he had brought her here as a nervously excited virgin, and yet, in some ways, so little.

  Their love, the love she had thought had been destroyed for ever, had proved so wonderfully strong and steadfast. As she looked across at Cathy, so radiantly happy as she stood next to Stuart, Abbie made a small prayer that their love would prove equally strong.

  ‘You feel so afraid for them, don’t you?’ Stuart’s mother whispered emotionally at her side. ‘So afraid, and yet at the same time so…so humble. It makes you remember…’ She paused and looked across at her own husband.

  ‘Yes, it does,’ Abbie agreed gently.

  She and Stuart’s mother had become if not close friends then at least good allies. After talking things over with Sam, Abbie had taken her courage in both hands and gone round to see and talk with Stuart’s mother. The resulting conversation had done a good deal to clear the air, and Anne had admitted to her what Sam had already suggested—that she had felt envious and overawed by Abbie because of her achievements in the outside world.

  They knew each other much better now, and when the time came, as Abbie sincerely hoped it would, when they both held in trust the special gift of loving their mutual grandchildren the additional bond between them would be one they both valued. They would be allies in that love and not antagonists.

  Abbie’s smile broadened. Tonight, when they lay in one another’s arms in the privacy of their bedroom, she would tell Sam again how much she loved him, how much she valued this second chance they had been given to share their love. And he would tell her the same thing, both with and without words.

  And their daughter, if she’d only known of the intense physical passion that existed between them, would, no doubt, have been both surprised and slightly shocked.

  Abbie smiled a secret little smile to herself. There were, after all, some things that Cathy, for all her apparent maturity, was still too young to know… Some things, some pleasures she would, if life was as generous as it had been to her mother, be allowed to discover for herself.

  O
ff the boss’s payroll…and into his bed

  Jaya. Her name reverberates around Theo Makricosta’s head in time to the whirring blades of his private helicopter. He must find her; only Jaya can help with the care of his infant niece and nephew…. It’s not because he hasn’t stopped thinking about the single night of mind-blowing passion he shared with the exotic beauty.

  Jaya Powers couldn’t refuse her gorgeous millionaire Greek boss when she worked for him, and she can’t refuse him now! Only this time she has a secret. Their night together had consequences that will change Theo’s perfectly ordered existence forever!

  An Heir to Bind Them

  Dani Collins

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  EXCERPT

  PROLOGUE

  THEO MAKRICOSTA BLINKED sweat out of his eyes as he glanced between his helicopter’s fuel gauge and the approaching shoreline. He was a numbers man so he didn’t worry at times like this; he calculated. His habit was to carry twice the fuel needed for any flight. He’d barely touched down on the yacht before he’d been airborne for his return trip. A to B equaled B to A, so he should have enough.

  Except in this case B stood for boat, which was a moving point.

  And he’d made a split-second decision as he lifted off the Makricosta Enchantment to go to Marseille rather than back to Barcelona. It had been an instinct, the type of impulse that wasn’t like him at all, but uncharacteristic panic had snared him in those first few seconds as he took flight. He had wheeled the bird toward what felt like salvation.

  It had been a ludicrous urge, but he was committed now.

  And soaked in perspiration.

  Not that he was worried for his own life. He wouldn’t be missed if he dropped out of the sky. But his cargo would. The pressure to safeguard his passengers had him so tense he was liable to snap his stick.

  It didn’t help that despite the thump of the rotors and his earmuffs plugged into the radio, he could hear both babies screaming their lungs out. He already sucked at being a brother. Now he might literally go down in flames as an uncle. Good thing he’d never tried fatherhood.

  Swiping his wet palm on his thigh, he pulled his phone from his pocket. Texting and flying was about as smart as texting while driving, but if he managed to land safely, he would have a fresh host of problems to contend with. His instincts in heading north instead of west weren’t that far off. The perfect person to help him was in Marseille.

  If she’d help him.

  He called up the message he should have deleted a long time ago.

  This is my new number, in case that’s the reason you never called me back. Jaya.

  Ignoring the twist of shame the words still wrung out of his conscience, he silently hoped her heart was as soft as he remembered it.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Eighteen months ago...

  JAYA POWERS HEARD the helicopter midmorning, but Theo Makricosta still hadn’t called her by five, when she was technically off the clock. Off the payroll in fact, and leaving in twelve hours.

  Ignoring the war between giddiness and heartache going on in her middle, she reminded herself that normal hours of work didn’t confine Mr. Makricosta. He traveled so much that sometimes he couldn’t sleep, so he worked instead. If he wanted files or records or reports, he called despite the time and politely asked her for them. Then he reminded her to put in for lieu or overtime and thanked her for her trouble. He was an exceptionally good man to work for and she was going to miss him way beyond what was appropriate.

  Staring at herself in the mirror, packed bags organized behind her, she wondered why she was still dressed in her Makricosta Resort uniform. She gave herself a pitying headshake. Her hair was brushed and restored to its heavy bun, her makeup refreshed, her teeth clean. All in readiness for his call.

  After everything that had sent her running from her home in India, she never would have seen herself turning into this: a girl with a monumental crush on her boss.

  Did he know she was leaving and didn’t care? He’d never overstepped into personal, ever. If he had any awareness that she was a woman, she’d be shocked.

  That thought prompted her to give a mild snort. If she hadn’t seen him buy dinner for the occasional single, vacationing woman, always accompanying her back to her room then subsequently writing off her stay against his personal expense account, she’d have surmised he wasn’t aware of women at all.

  But he hooked up when it suited him and it made her feel...odd. Aware and dismayed and kind of jealous.

  Which was odd because she didn’t want to sleep with him. Did she?

  A flutter of anxious tension crept from her middle toward her heart. It wasn’t terror and nausea, though. It wasn’t the way she typically felt when she thought of sex.

  It wasn’t fireworks and shooting stars, either, so why did she care that she might not have a chance to say goodbye?

  Her entire being deflated. She had to say goodbye. It wasn’t logical to feel so attached to someone who’d been nothing but professional and detached, but she did. The promotions and career challenges alone had made him a huge part of her life, whether his encouragement had been personal or not. More importantly, the way he respected her as useful and competent had nurtured her back to feeling safe in her workplace again. He made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she could be a whole woman, rather than one who had severed herself from all but the most basic of her female attributes.

  Did she want to tell him that? No. So forget it. She would leave for France without seeing him.

  But rather than unknotting her red-and-white scarf, her hand scooped up her security card. She pivoted to the door. Stupid, she told herself as she walked to the elevator. What if he was with someone?

  A few minutes later she swiped her damp palms on her skirt before knocking on his door. Technically this fortieth floor villa belonged to the Makricosta family, but the youngest brother, Demitri, wasn’t as devoted to duty as Theo, flitting through on a whim and only very seldom. Their sister, Adara, the figurehead of the operation, timed her visits to catch a break from New York winters, not wasting better July weather elsewhere when it was its coolest here in Bali.

  Theo—Mr. Makricosta, she reminded herself, even though she thought of him as Theo—was very methodical, inspecting the books of each hotel in the chain at least once a quarter. He was reliable and predictable. She liked that about him.

  Licking her lips, she knocked briefly.

  The murmur inside might have been “Come in.” She couldn’t be sure and she had come this far, so she used her card and—

  “I said, Not now,” he stated from a reclined position on the sofa, shirt sleeves rolled up and one bare forearm over his eyes. In the other hand he held a drink. His jaw was stubbled, his clothes wrinkled. Papers and file folders were strewn messily across the coffee table and fanned in a wide scatter across the floor, as though he’d thrust them away in an uncharacteristic fit. His precious laptop was cocked on its side next to the table, open but dark. Broken?

  Blinking at the mess, Jaya told herself to back out. Men in a temper could be dangerous. She knew that.

  But there was something so distraught in his body language, in the air even. She immediately hurt for him and she didn’t know why.

  “Did something happen?” she queried with subdued shock.

  “Jaya?” His feet rose in surprise. At the same time he lifted his arm off his eyes
. “Did I call you?” Spinning his feet to the floor in a startling snap to attention, he picked up his phone and thumbed across the screen. “I was trying not to.”

  The apology sounded odd, but sometimes English phrasing sounded funny to her, with its foreign syntax and slang. How could you try not to call someone?

  “I don’t mind finding whatever paperwork you need,” she murmured, compelled to rescue the laptop and hearing the door pull itself closed behind her. “Especially if you’re dismayed about the way something was handled.”

  “Dismayed. Yeah, that’s what I am.” He pressed his mouth flat for a moment, elbows braced on his wide-spread thighs. His focus moved through her to a place far in the distance. With a little shudder, he skimmed his hands up to ruffle his hair before staring at her with heartrending bleakness. “You’ve caught me at a bad time.”

  For some reason her mouth went dry. She didn’t react to men, especially the dark, powerfully built, good-looking ones. Theo was all of those things, his complexion not as dark as her countrymen, but he had Greek swarthiness and dark brown hair and brows. With his short hair on end, he looked younger than his near thirty. For a second, he reminded her of the poorest children in India, the ones old enough to have lost hope.

  Her hand twitched to smooth his disheveled hair, instinctively aware he wouldn’t like anyone seeing him at less than his most buttoned-down.

  He was still incredible. His stubbled jaw was just wide enough to evenly frame his gravely drawn mouth while his cheekbones stood out in a way that hollowed his cheeks. His brows were winged, not too thick, lending a striking intelligence to his keen brown eyes.

  They seemed to expand as she looked into them. The world around her receded....