The Diakos Baby Scandal

by Natalie Rivers

  She reared up against him, trying to push him away and swing her legs off the bed at the same time. But Theo was ready for her, and turned her movements to his own advantage. She ended up sitting on the edge of the bed in between his legs, with her back pressed against his chest. His arm was wrapped right around her, circling her from behind, and he was leaning forward over her shoulder, with his head beside hers.

  ‘Don’t try and tell me you don’t want to feel my hands on you,’ he murmured, feathering the side of her neck with his hot breath.

  She looked down and saw his arm around her waist, holding her securely. But his other hand was moving, brushing backwards and forwards across her midriff, getting higher and higher with each sweep. As his fingertips skimmed across her skin she felt herself shaking—awash with conflicting thoughts and emotions.

  He was right—so right. She wanted to feel his hands on her. She wanted him to lie over her, possessing her, making love to her like he used to. Her pulse was racing and she was breathing erratically just from the lightest touch of his fingertips. But she didn’t want it to be like this—him taunting her with her desire for him.

  ‘You feel so good,’ he breathed against her ear, sending renewed shivers quivering through her. Then his fingers slipped under the blue fabric of the bikini top and he held her breast cupped in his hand.

  An involuntary sigh of delight escaped her and she arched her back, lifting her breast in subconscious invitation. His fingers moved and he gently massaged her in the way that he knew would bring her exquisite sensual pleasure.

  She was hardly aware as he released his tight hold on her waist and laid her back on the bed. She didn’t fight him—her eyes were closed and she was lost on a rising tide of desire. Then, when his mouth closed over her other nipple, she went rocketing into another level of arousal.

  ‘Oh,’ she breathed, momentarily forgetting everything as magical sensations spiralled out from where his tongue worked her aching nipple. ‘Oh, Theo.’

  Suddenly her eyes snapped open and her hands were on his shoulders, pushing him roughly away.

  It was as if by saying his name out loud she had broken the spell. For a few dizzy moments she’d been in thrall to him, had lost all strength to resist—but now she was plummeting back to earth, remembering her determination to keep him at arm’s length.

  She stared up at him, dragging her scattered thoughts back together. Then, like a drenching with cold water, she pictured the look of disgust on his face as he stared at her stretch marks.

  ‘You don’t truly want me!’ she cried, springing to her feet and staring down at him, still kneeling on the bed. ‘Why are you doing this? I saw how you looked at my stretch marks.’

  ‘You really think I care what your stretch marks look like?’ Theo’s voice was incredulous as he stood up next to her. ‘In all the time we were together I never realised how vain and shallow you are.’

  ‘I saw the expression on your face,’ Kerry said. ‘So don’t try to tell me that you don’t think they are horrible and ugly.’

  ‘They’re nothing!’ Theo grated. ‘Skin-deep, superficial lines that will soon fade. They are the marks of being a mother—you should be proud of them, not cringing and trying to hide them.’

  ‘You don’t mean that!’ Kerry exclaimed. ‘I saw how disgusted you looked when you saw them.’

  ‘I was disgusted at what they represent,’ Theo barked. ‘Disgusted with you! With what you took from me.’

  He spun away, scrubbing his hands roughly over his face as if he was in the grip of strong emotion. Then he turned back, fixing her with his piercing gaze.

  ‘They are the marks of your pregnancy—the marks that formed because my son was growing inside you.’ Theo’s voice was dangerously calm, but Kerry could see the fury glinting in his eyes. ‘You took that from me—denied me the chance to be part of that.’

  Kerry stared at him, stunned that he felt so strongly about missing out on her pregnancy. She’d never guessed it would mean so much to him.

  ‘You should have told me,’ Theo said. ‘You should have told me you were pregnant.’

  ‘I tried,’ Kerry said. ‘But you wouldn’t listen.’

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ he said. ‘You never tried to contact me.’

  ‘No, I mean…’ She hesitated, suddenly realising that Theo had assumed she’d discovered her pregnancy after he threw her out.

  Theo cursed savagely in Greek, then stormed across the room and seized her by the arms.

  ‘You already knew!’ he accused. ‘You knew before you left Athens!’

  ‘I tried to tell you,’ she insisted. ‘You wouldn’t listen to me. You just told me to get out.’

  ‘You should have made me listen,’ he said. ‘My God! To think you walked out of my home with my son already growing inside you!’ He swore again. ‘How long had you known?’

  ‘I found out that evening,’ Kerry said shakily, staring up at him nervously. It was as if a violent storm was building, towering up into a wild sky, crackling with electricity that was waiting to strike. ‘I was on my way to tell you when I overheard you talking to Corban.’

  Theo’s eyes flared dangerously again and she realised it had been a mistake to mention Corban, reminding Theo about the events of that awful night. Then she remembered him accusing her of dishonesty—of never being open and of deliberately keeping things from him.

  There and then she vowed that he would never be able to justifiably challenge her on that score again. If this forced relationship between Theo and herself had any chance of working she could never again give him grounds to call her out on her honesty—or lack of it.

  ‘I didn’t keep on trying to tell you after the first time because I was scared,’ she whispered. ‘Scared of what you might do. I’d just heard you telling your brother to kidnap Nicco from his mother. I was frightened you would try to take my baby from me.’

  Theo stared down at her, a muscle pulsing in his jawline and his eyes narrowed intimidatingly. The moment lengthened, and Kerry shifted her weight uneasily from one foot to the other.

  ‘I will never try to take Lucas from you,’ Theo said at last. ‘In return, I expect you to be a perfect mother to him—and to the other children we will have.’

  ‘Other children?’ she gasped. ‘Surely it’s too early to be talking about more children?’

  ‘Why?’ he demanded. ‘Do you want Lucas to be an only child? Are you not fully committed to this marriage?’

  ‘No…it’s not that.’ She paused, suddenly feeling under even more pressure.

  Everything had happened so quickly that she didn’t know what to think.

  ‘Let me assure you that I am fully committed to this family,’ Theo said. ‘And I expect you to give me more children.’

  His words rolled through her like a command, and his gaze seemed to penetrate to the centre of her being. She pressed her teeth into her lower lip and stared at him, knowing unequivocally that he was deadly serious.

  ‘You will also be a perfect wife to me,’ he added. ‘In the bedroom or anywhere else I want you.’ His voice was loaded with sexual intent, and his eyes skimmed meaningfully over her semi-naked body. Then he turned and walked out of the room.

  Kerry swallowed reflexively and started to tremble all over again. Because she knew exactly what he meant—what he wanted from her.

  A sweet dark river of anticipation began to flow along her veins, spreading out and filling every inch of her entire being with renewed desire for him. She longed to surrender her body to him again. Completely.

  Later that evening, after Lucas had been put down for the night in his new nursery, Kerry strolled through the house feeling very unsettled. Theo was in his study, catching up on some work, but he’d told her he would join her for dinner. She’d showered and dressed carefully, choosing a dark blue halterneck dress and high-heeled sandals. The soft silky fabric was gathered below the bust and fell in gentle folds to just above her knees.

  She wande
red from room to room, thinking about everything that had happened. But it was almost impossible for her to take on board just how much her life had changed over the last few days. All she knew was that for Lucas’s sake she had to find a way to make her marriage to Theo work. She knew they were compatible in the bedroom—but there was more to married life than making love and looking after children.

  She was walking through the hallway when she found herself drawn to a series of paintings on the wall. Something about them seemed really familiar. Of course she knew she’d seen them lots of times before, but it was more than that.

  Suddenly it came to her. They reminded her of the watercolours she had admired at Drakon’s house. She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked even closer. The more she studied them, the more certain she became that they were by the same artist—and they were all of locations on Drakon’s island. There was more to Theo’s interest in the old man’s island than he was letting on.

  A few moments later she heard the door of Theo’s study open. She looked up to see him coming along the corridor, rolling his shoulders as he often did when he became tense working at his computer.

  A little frisson ran through her as she watched him walking towards her. He was so utterly good-looking that simply gazing at him took her breath away. He had changed out of his business suit and was dressed casually in dark jeans and a T-shirt that fitted him like a second skin. Even from that distance she could see the magnetic movement of his sculpted muscles as he walked towards her.

  She realised that she had missed just looking at him and admiring his athletic physique—marvelling in the fact that such a gorgeous man shared her bed at night.

  ‘Ready for dinner?’ he asked as he came up beside her.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, matching his mild tone. ‘I’m starving. Lunch seems a long time ago.’

  A little jolt shot through her as he slipped his arm around her waist, but she forced herself to relax. He clearly intended that they should put their earlier argument behind them and act like a normal couple—and she wasn’t going to give him any cause for complaint.

  He turned her away from the paintings and started walking towards the dining room. But at that moment she made a decision—if they were to act like a normal couple, then she ought to feel free to discuss things openly with him.

  ‘Before we go,’ she said quickly, ‘I was wondering about these paintings. I’m intrigued as to why you and Drakon both have paintings by the same artist.’

  Theo stopped in his tracks, and she felt him grow tense beside her.

  ‘I’d thought that by now you would understand that I don’t like people meddling or sticking their nose in where it doesn’t belong,’ he said. His voice was level, but she could feel displeasure emanating off him.

  She turned towards him, determined that he would not over-awe her with the steely force of his personality.

  ‘I’m not meddling,’ she said, shaking her head slightly. ‘I’m asking a perfectly natural question. Presumably you want Lucas to grow up with a mother who is able to have a proper conversation with his father?’

  Theo looked down at her upturned face, into her wide blue eyes, surprised to realise that she was right. His response had been automatic—a knee-jerk reaction to unwanted interest in his family’s difficult past. Now she was going to be part of his family, bringing up his son as a Diakos, it made sense for her to know a little about his family background—if not all of it.

  In the past they had never really talked about anything personal, and now he understood that it had not turned out to be a very good basis for a relationship. If they had been more open with each other then it would not have been so easy for Kerry to keep her pregnancy from him. Trust was vital in any relationship—and he did not want her keeping secrets from him in the future.

  ‘The paintings are the work of my uncle,’ Theo said.

  ‘Your uncle was an artist—how wonderful!’ Kerry exclaimed—then she paused, her expression quizzical. ‘But that means your uncle used to live on Drakon’s island!’ she gasped. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘Who told you that?’ Theo asked, disconcerted by how much she already seemed to know.

  ‘No one,’ Kerry said. ‘I just worked it out this minute. I asked Drakon about the paintings in his house the first evening at dinner—you were late joining us because of your long walk. He told me that the artist who painted them used to live on the island.’

  ‘That is correct,’ Theo replied, unsettled to discover how close to sensitive information Kerry had strayed during her conversation with Drakon. He wondered how much the old man actually knew about the paintings and their artist.

  Kerry went on. ‘He said that they came with the house when he bought the island twenty-five years ago, from a property developer who’d run into financial difficulties—luckily before he’d started any building on the island.’

  Theo nodded. ‘That failed property developer left quite a mess when he went bankrupt—half-finished projects all over the place.’

  ‘How fascinating,’ Kerry said enthusiastically, as if her imagination was well and truly captured. ‘So does that mean your uncle once owned the island?’

  ‘Not exactly.’ Theo pushed his hands through his hair and turned to walk away from the paintings, out onto the terrace that overlooked the infinity pool. ‘It belonged to my mother’s family. Her twin sister, my Aunt Dacia, was married to the artist.’

  ‘What made them sell it?’ Kerry asked. ‘It’s such a beautiful place.’

  Theo frowned and looked away. He was out of his comfort zone—taken aback by how quickly Kerry was delving deeper into the story, peeling back layers that would soon reveal more than he wanted.

  An ironic smile flashed across his face. His first foray into openness with his soon-to-be wife and he was already getting cold feet. It wasn’t as if information about what had happened wasn’t already out there in the public domain—in fact it was of very little interest to anyone but his immediate family. But it was something he preferred not to talk about—he felt shamed by association. Shamed to be his father’s son.

  ‘You don’t have to tell me,’ Kerry said. ‘Not if you don’t want to.’

  She looked up at him. His black hair was spiky from where he had dragged his fingers through it and she could tell he was feeling uncomfortable. She didn’t want to put him in a position he would regret later. She knew the tentative understanding they seemed to have reached could be easily broken.

  She turned away, to show that she wasn’t badgering him for information, and looked towards the sun going down in the western sky. They were standing overlooking the infinity pool, and in the fading light the sun-bronzed water really did seem to stretch on for ever, in a seamless sweep right out across the Aegean Sea.

  This island, with its tasteful buildings and luxury swimming pools, was beautiful. But if she was completely honest it didn’t have the same magic as Drakon’s island. Perhaps it was the untamed wildness of that place, with its unkempt ancient olive groves and the tumbledown buildings made of natural materials. Something about that place made it truly special.

  ‘It must have been hard for your mother and her sister to leave the island,’ she said.

  ‘My mother left by choice,’ Theo replied. ‘She wanted the excitement and opportunities that the mainland could offer. My aunt loved the place. She was still relatively young when her parents—my grandparents—died. But she managed to keep the place going, continuing the small business they had established making olive oil. Then she started to open her home as a retreat for painters and artists. That’s how she met my uncle, Demos.’

  ‘What made them leave?’ Kerry asked. She didn’t want it to seem as if she was prying, but she was genuinely interested.

  ‘My father.’ Theo’s voice changed, becoming hard and unforgiving.

  Kerry drew her lower lip into her mouth and looked at him apprehensively, knowing that their discussion had stumbled into hazardous territory. Now
she understood why Theo had been reluctant to talk about the island—she knew he was estranged from his father, although she didn’t know why.

  ‘My father has an insatiable appetite for meddling with other people’s lives,’ Theo said bitterly. ‘Because of his interference, my aunt and uncle lost their island. My uncle died penniless, feeling he’d failed my aunt. She was left alone, utterly broken-hearted, having lost the love of her life and her island home.’

  ‘How terrible,’ Kerry gasped. ‘Is your aunt still alive? I’ve never heard you or Corban mention her.’

  ‘That’s because she won’t see us,’ Theo said. ‘She won’t have anything to do with us because of my father.’

  ‘But it’s not your fault! You aren’t responsible for things your father did when you were a child,’ Kerry said indignantly. ‘You don’t even see him any more.’

  ‘Aunt Dacia was too badly hurt by what happened to see things rationally,’ Theo said. ‘For years my mother tried to help her, but she kept refusing because ultimately the money she was offering came from my father—the man she hated.’

  He paused, pushing his hands through his hair once more, revealing just how unsettling he found the subject. Kerry wanted to reach out to him—to offer comfort and support. But she was scared of upsetting the fine balance they had reached.

  ‘My father made my uncle feel inadequate because he was content to live a simple life,’ Theo continued. ‘He persuaded Demos and Dacia to mortgage the island and invest the money. But they weren’t cut out for it. Demos was a gentle fellow, with no head for business. They lost everything.’

  He turned back and looked down at her, his expression unguarded.

  ‘My father is a dominating, powerful man,’ Theo said. ‘They had no chance against him. It was my mother’s dying wish that her sister should have her island back.’

  ‘And now you are trying to fulfil that wish to get back what they lost because of your father?’ Kerry said quietly. ‘Your aunt will be so grateful.’