by Lynne Graham
And that was the most basic truth, which she could no longer ignore or deny. She loved Bastien Zikos—had fallen like a giant stone the very first time he had settled those gorgeous dark eyes on her and smiled.
‘You look so serious,’ Bastien censured as he trailed off his shirt to reveal the torso that starred in her every fantasy. He was so wonderfully well-built, and he worked at staying fit—a reality etched in the lean hard sheet of roped muscle framing his pectoral muscles and abdomen.
Lilah’s mouth ran dry. He brought his mouth down on hers, nibbling sexily at her full lower lip, swiping the upper with the tip of his tongue to gain entry to the intimate space beyond. A ball of heat mushroomed inside her when his tongue flicked against her own. Her hands spread on his chest, fingertips grazing hair-roughened skin and smoothing down to feel him jerk with sensitivity when she found the hard thrusting length of him.
With a hungry groan he lifted her up and brought her down again on the bed, arranging her over him with careful hands.
‘I want you,’ Bastien growled, dark eyes shooting golden sparks over her warmly flushed face.
‘You sound so aggressive,’ Lilah scolded as she obediently bent forward for him to unclasp her bra.
‘It’s been a week.’ He swore bitterly. ‘An endless, frustrating week.’
Strong hands pulled her down to him, to enable him to close his lips round a pouting pink nipple. He hauled her close to him and rolled her over.
‘Didn’t think I was going to get to stay on top,’ Lilah muttered with helpless bite.
His broad chest rumbled with amusement. ‘Some day very soon...but not today,’ he agreed in a roughened undertone.
Employing every sensual skill he had acquired, Bastien worked his way down over Delilah’s slim squirming body, revelling in each sound that revealed her enjoyment. As her hips bucked in climax and she cried his name he smiled and flipped her over, lifting her up on to her knees.
He slid against her damp flesh to tease her, and then when she complained in frustration he sank into her, hard and deep.
Lilah moaned, her head still swimming and her body still sensitised, floating on the aftermath of extreme pleasure. Extraordinarily conscious of Bastien’s every slight movement, Lilah felt her heart race and her pulse quicken with exhilaration. Intense excitement controlled her as he ground his hips into hers, quickening his pace until all she was conscious of was the wild, feverish climb of pleasure. As the ascent to satisfaction consumed her spasms of potent sensation coursed through her quivering body and then rose to an irresistible peak, leaving her thrashing in explosive convulsions of delight.
‘I’ll never move again,’ she whispered limply in the aftermath.
‘I’ll move you,’ Bastien husked, turning her round in the circle of his arms, his breath fanning her cheek, his body hot and damp against hers.
The scent of his skin enveloped her and she smiled up at him.
‘I do hope you appreciate that you’re not getting out of this bed for the rest of the day?’ Bastien purred. ‘But I’ll make up for it tomorrow. I’m taking the rest of the week off. You will have my full attention, kardoula mou.’
Lilah rubbed her face against a broad brown shoulder, gloriously relaxed and feeling amazingly happy. She loved him, and he was with her, and his entire attention was on her. For the moment that was enough. And for the first time she didn’t feel like Bastien’s mistress—she felt like his wife, and it felt good.
* * *
A week after their wedding day Lilah woke suddenly during the night to register that Bastien had got out of bed and was pacing naked while he spoke Greek into his phone, his lean strong features stressed and taut. He waved a hand to silence her when she mouthed a query and she had to be patient, even though she didn’t feel patient, lying back against the pillows and wondering what had happened to put that look of concern on his beautiful face.
So much had changed between them in the course of a week. Bastien had let down some of his barriers and was sharing a bed with her every night. Only once had he had another bad dream, and wakening to find her leaning over him had put more exciting pursuits into his mind, she recalled, her body heating at that wickedly erotic memory.
By day they had explored the chateau grounds before ranging further afield. They had gone to a jazz concert in the vineyards near Vaison-Ventoux-en-Provence. They had strolled round vibrant markets, walked through narrow cobbled streets to enjoy coffee in shaded squares with softly flowing fountains. The hilltop villages were wonderfully picturesque, and the views spectacular.
He had bought her a gorgeous leather handbag in a workshop, and laughed heartily at the colourful pottery hen she had bought for Vickie, questioning that she could really like her stepmother and still buy her such a thing.
On several evenings they had dined out in local restaurants, although truthfully they had yet to eat anywhere that could compete with the superb food Marie served at the chateau. Some nights they made love until dawn...some afternoons they didn’t get out of bed until the need to eat drove them out. His insatiable hunger for her was mercifully matched by hers for him, and with his encouragement Lilah had become more adventurous.
The only little niggle at the back of her mind, that had prevented her from totally relaxing, was the question of how Bastien was likely to react if she didn’t prove to be pregnant. After all, was it really her he wanted, or was he merely giving way to a long-suppressed desire to become a father?
He could become a father with almost any woman, couldn’t he? Lilah didn’t like to think that her being in the right place at the right time was all that had prompted Bastien to seek a more lasting relationship with her. In any case, in another few days she would know whether or not she had conceived. And even if she had it was perfectly possible that she would still never tell Bastien that she loved him for fear of making him feel trapped, she thought ruefully.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked as Bastien cast aside his phone and paced restively back across the room.
‘That was my brother, Leo,’ he explained grimly. ‘My father’s in hospital in Athens with a suspected heart attack. Leo says there’s no need for me to go, because he’ll keep me posted, but...’
‘Naturally you want to be there,’ Lilah slotted in.
‘But equally naturally Leo and his mother don’t want me there.’
‘How is that natural?’ Lilah pressed, immediately defensive on Bastien’s behalf. ‘Anatole is as much your father as your brother’s.’
‘I may have lived with my father’s family for years, but I was never part of that family,’ Bastien pointed out drily. ‘I’m never a welcome visitor. Leo’s mother Cleta—my father’s wife—hates me.’
Lilah compressed her lips. ‘After the number of years that have passed since your mother’s death, and the years you lived in her home with Anatole, that’s very definitely her problem—not yours,’ she pronounced with conviction. ‘Don’t let anyone make you feel as though you don’t have the right to see your own father. You’re his son too.’
The fiery gleam that illuminated Bastien’s dark eyes only accentuated the worried frown stamped on his lean bronzed face. ‘I do want to see him. We’ll fly out as soon as I can get it organised.’
CHAPTER TEN
BASTIEN AND LILAH drove straight to the hospital from the airport. Lilah hung back a little as they entered the waiting room, because at first glance it seemed to be filled with people. Anatole was still having tests, and only close family would be allowed to visit him. The target of a slew of stares as she entered the room, Lilah flushed and acknowledged that she might be married to Bastien but she did not feel like a member of his family.
A small, curvy older woman, improbably dressed in a purple brocade evening coat and matching dress, and more diamonds than Lilah had ever seen outside a shop window, shot a
look of derision at Bastien. ‘How dare you bring one of your whores to the hospital?’ she spat.
The very tall black-haired male standing to one side of this shrew stiffened and said something in Greek, while Bastien curved a strong arm to Lilah’s tense spine.
‘May I introduce my wife, Delilah? This is Cleta Zikos, my father’s wife...and my brother Leo and his wife, Grace.’
‘Your wife?’ the pretty redhead exclaimed in an unmistakable English accent as she surged forward. ‘When did you get married?’
‘Recently,’ Lilah responded, grateful that Leo’s wife seemed warm and friendly in comparison to his brother, who seemed stunned by the news, and Anatole’s sour-faced wife, who had merely grimaced, making it clear that any attachment of Bastien’s—married or otherwise—was not welcome.
Annoyance rippled through Lilah at the disturbing awareness that after his mother’s death Bastien had spent years living in Cleta Zikos’s home. Evidently Cleta had never tried to treat Bastien as a stepchild, but had preferred to despise him for the reality that his late mother had been her husband’s mistress.
Bastien’s brother, Leo, stepped forward to congratulate them. ‘Never thought I’d live to see the day,’ she heard him quip, half under his breath.
Apart from their similar height and build, the two men did not look obviously related. The awkwardness between them was apparent as they engaged in stilted chat, slipping into Greek, presumably to discuss their father’s condition.
Grace settled a hand on Lilah’s sleeve and urged her over to some seats at the far wall. ‘So, tell all, Delilah,’ she urged. ‘Leo was convinced that Bastien would stay single for ever.’
‘Everyone but Bastien calls me Lilah,’ Lilah shared with a rueful look.
‘We are both married to very stubborn individuals,’ Grace said with a grin. ‘Neither one of them gives an inch in a tight corner.’
Lilah glanced up as another woman arrived and Cleta Zikos rushed up to welcome the tall, shapely brunette with a flood of Greek.
‘Who’s that?’ she asked her companion.
‘Marina Kouros—an old friend of the family.’
Bastien’s first love, Lilah registered, her heart performing a heavy thud inside her chest.
Clearly Bastien had had good taste, even at the age of twenty-one, because the lively chattering brunette was a classic beauty. She watched Marina stiffen and pale, her animation taking a dip when she belatedly appreciated that Bastien was present. She didn’t smile at him and he didn’t smile at her. They exchanged a stiff nod of acknowledgement, but Lilah fancied that Bastien looked at his former lover longer than was necessary, and a twist of green jealousy shivered through her.
What was that old cliché about a man never forgetting his first love? Her attention roved down to Marina’s hand, which bore no rings, indicating that the woman was still single.
‘I propose that you, me and Marina take a break for coffee at our home,’ Grace suggested. ‘None of us are going to be allowed in to see Anatole anyway. Cleta, I would invite you, but I know you won’t leave the hospital until you’ve seen your husband.’
‘I’ll pick you up later,’ Bastien told Lilah quietly, clearly content for her to depart.
‘I’d be happy to stay,’ she told him.
His dark golden eyes skimmed her troubled face. ‘I don’t need support, hara mou.’
That was a matter of opinion, Lilah reflected ruefully, avoiding Cleta’s haughtily resentful glance and Leo’s cool, curious regard. In such company Bastien stood very much alone, and she hated that it was like that for him. But then in such a dysfunctional family circle he had always been alone, she thought unhappily. Bastien was still treated like the illegitimate son—the outsider to be resented and kept at a distance.
Not unnaturally, Bastien had eventually learned to live like that—never getting too close to people, steering clear of messy human emotions as best he could because he had seen far too many unpleasant displays of turbulent emotion while he was growing up.
‘How do you get on with your mother-in-law?’ Lilah asked Grace as the three women stepped into a lift.
‘I don’t see much of her. Her life revolves round Anatole. She’s a bit of a cold fish,’ Grace volunteered with a grimace.
Lilah pressed her arm against her breasts. They were sore, aching and tender, but she occasionally suffered from such discomfort before her menstrual cycle kicked in. On the other hand, she was already late... She was planning to do a pregnancy test the following morning, but was convinced it would be a waste of time because she just couldn’t imagine that she would be pregnant.
She rested back against the wall of the lift, feeling incredibly weary, and noticed that Marina was staring at her.
‘I was surprised to hear that Bastien had got married,’ she admitted baldly.
‘He rushed me into it,’ Lilah responded coolly, studying the woman whose one-night stand with Bastien almost ten years earlier had caused such lasting and damaging repercussions.
‘He must’ve been scared of losing you,’ Grace opined.
‘Very little scares Bastien,’ Lilah said wryly, thinking of how she and Bastien had started out at daggers drawn, and of how quickly her feelings had changed.
Obviously she had no resistance when it came to Bastien. Love had been softening her up for a serious fall from the beginning, she reckoned ruefully, feeling nausea stirring in her tense tummy because she felt so ridiculously uncomfortable in Marina’s presence.
Lilah was experiencing a volatile cocktail of jealousy and resentment, and telling herself that she was not entitled to those reactions wasn’t helping. She hated knowing that Marina had once shared a bed with Bastien, hated the fact that Bastien had wanted Marina first, and hated even more the reality that Marina could have had him but had instead chosen to throw him away, while at the same time lying about him to poison his relationship with his only sibling.
‘You’re very quiet,’ Grace commented in the limousine.
‘I napped during the flight but I’m still very tired,’ Lilah confided with an apologetic smile.
‘When did you first meet Bastien?’ Marina asked.
‘Over two years ago.’
‘He’s quite a guy,’ Marina remarked, in a tone that Lilah took exception to because it oozed intimacy to her sensitive hearing. ‘A lot of women will envy you.’
Including you? Lilah wondered, thinking that the brunette might well have come to live to regret rejecting Bastien once he had become rich and successful, and as such much more socially acceptable.
It dismayed Lilah that she should feel so angry with Marina and so very protective of Bastien.
Leo and Grace lived in a palatial town house. A nanny brought their daughter, Rosie, to meet them. The toddler was adorable, and Lilah relaxed in little Rosie’s presence—but only until she began wondering how Bastien would react to her not being pregnant. After that disappointment would he still want to stay married to her? Or would that single disappointment be sufficient to knock the gloss off his belief that he wanted to keep her as his wife? Rich, powerful men didn’t deal generously with disappointments because they met with very few.
A chill ran down Lilah’s spine as she sipped her tea and tried to think cheerfully of returning to the life she had left behind.
‘I was hoping that you and Bastien would join us for dinner some evening while you’re in Athens,’ Grace shared. ‘Break the ice a bit.’
‘I think it would take an ice pick,’ Lilah confided ruefully.
‘Bastien’s not the family type. He’s a natural loner,’ Marina remarked.
Lilah stiffened angrily and her bright blue eyes sparked. ‘Bastien might be closer to his brother if you hadn’t soured their relationship by lying about what happened between you and Bastien ten years ago,’ Lilah condemned
, the stream of recrimination racing off her tongue before she could even stop to think about what she was saying.
In response to Lilah’s outburst the most appalling silence spread. Marina had turned the colour of ash, and Grace was staring at Lilah in wide-eyed consternation.
‘I... I don’t know what to say,’ Marina responded, and as a deep flush highlighted her cheeks her guiltiness was obvious to Lilah.
‘But I do. Delilah...time for you to leave.’
A deeply unwelcome voice sounded from behind the sofa she was sitting on. Lilah’s head swivelled and she focused on Bastien in shock. The fact that he had heard what she had said to Marina was stamped on his lean darkly handsome face and in the threatening golden blaze of his eyes. She had embarrassed him by prying into his past and he was absolutely furious.
Her cheeks warm, she stood up and encountered a sympathetic glance from Grace.
* * *
‘I’m sorry. I put my foot in it...trod where I shouldn’t...whatever you want to call it,’ Lilah muttered in a rush as soon as she was in the car with him.
‘We’ll discuss it when we get back to the apartment.’
‘How’s your father?’ she asked.
‘They think he’s had a minor heart attack. He’s going to have to change his lifestyle—eat less, exercise more,’ he breathed curtly. ‘Cleta’s staying with him. I’ll go back to see him later.’
Lilah stole a glance at his grim bronzed profile and cursed the misfortune that had led to Bastien overhearing her attack on his former lover. She knew she was in the wrong. She should have minded her own business. Should never have embarrassed Grace like that in her home. And now Bastien was furious with her.
She gritted her teeth, angry that she had spoken on impulse and without sensible forethought, but not sorry that she had told Marina what she thought of her behaviour.
His apartment was a penthouse, furnished in contemporary style and full of airy space, glass, metal and stone.
Lilah slung her bag down in the main reception room and sat down heavily. ‘Say what you have to say,’ she urged apprehensively, her nerves worn to a thread by the enforced wait.
