The Greek's Blackmailed Mistress

by Lynne Graham

  Xan laughed out loud. ‘I like it when you’re blunt like that—’

  ‘And, no, you don’t get any time off for good behaviour,’ she told him sternly. ‘And after sex, you will always, always hold me close.’

  ‘It’s not just sex with you...it’s much more than that,’ Xan muttered awkwardly.

  Elvi fluttered her eyelashes. ‘Souls meeting?’

  Xan laughed again, reaching down to kiss her at the same time as he unzipped his chinos. ‘Our bodies are definitely going to meet,’ he intoned against her reddened mouth with unconcealed hunger. ‘On a collision course right now to that meeting—’

  Being both a little frantic to make love again, they never did make it back downstairs for the dessert course and they lay talking lazily in bed until almost dawn. By that stage, they were involved in negotiations with Xan agreeing to take weekends and holidays off and Elvi agreeing not to drop clothes on the floor.

  ‘I love you so much, agape mou,’ Xan murmured, experiencing contentment for the first time ever, his beautiful eyes locked tenderly to Elvi’s smiling, happy face. ‘I’ll buy you a dog once we’ve got used to being parents.’

  Blissfully relaxed, Elvi let her arms tighten round his long, lean body, gentle fingers smoothing over his satin-smooth back. Xan liked to plan everything, cautiously moving from one checkpoint to the next. Yet without any preparation at all, he had plunged into their marriage and the promise of fatherhood with his whole heart, freely accepting those changes and loving her into the bargain.

  ‘I love you too,’ she whispered, happily convinced she had found a very special man.

  * * *

  Five years later, Elvi sat on the sand of the cove below the house on Thira and watched her daughter, Molly, patiently build a sandcastle with all the devotion to detail that Xan had already taught her. The little plastic flag had to go in exactly the right place, the moat had to fill with water, the shells that denoted windows had to sit in exact lines, and then disaster came along on two sturdy toddler legs. With a shout of delight, Molly’s little brother, Ajax, flung himself at the castle, for he delighted as much in smashing things down as his sister delighted in building them.

  But the split second before Ajax made contact and destroyed his sister’s creation, a pair of arms stretched out and grabbed him back. ‘No,’ Xan told his son firmly.

  Ajax wailed and screeched and struggled to escape his father’s hold while Molly plonked herself defensively in front of the castle and told her brother off.

  ‘When did you get back?’ Elvi asked her husband, battling to be heard over Ajax’s enraged yells.

  ‘Ten minutes ago. The Athens meeting didn’t last as long as I expected,’ Xan told her with a lazy smile, quite unbothered by his son’s vociferous complaints.

  ‘Oh, let him wreck it,’ Molly groaned in exasperation as her brother’s sobbing reached an ear-splitting peak. ‘The sea will take it tonight anyway.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Elvi asked her daughter.

  ‘He’s a baby,’ her daughter pointed out pityingly, anchoring herself to her father’s side. ‘I’ll make another one tomorrow.’

  Xan lowered Ajax back to the sand. The toddler hovered, tears sprinkling his chubby cheeks, his platinum-pale curls blowing in the breeze. He stretched out a chubby fist to bat at a tower and then overbalanced and fell on top of the castle, getting sand on his face, which he hated.

  ‘It’s really not his day,’ Elvi pronounced as she rescued the little boy and brushed him free of sand while he watched her with the huge amber-gold eyes he had inherited from his father.

  Their children were an endearing mix of their parents. Molly had black hair and blue eyes and a love of order. Ajax was two and he loved to make a mess. He was usually much quieter than Molly, except when he got overtired.

  ‘He’s ready for bed,’ Elvi pronounced, gathering up the clutter around her and stuffing it into bags while Xan hoisted his son onto his shoulder. Holding Molly’s hand, Xan led the way up the steep steps back to the house.

  They’d had two children in five years and life was busy. Elvi had had an easy pregnancy with Molly and terrible morning sickness while carrying Ajax. She reckoned that their family was now complete. Their dog, a terrier mix called Bones, romped along in their wake, his frantic energy keeping his wiry little body fit in spite of a calorie intake that would have powered an elephant.

  Their nanny whisked the children away for supper and bedtime and, having spent the entire day with her son and daughter, Elvi was grateful to have time for Xan. Xan might have given up his seven-days-a-week schedule but he was still very much in demand, flying round the world to make speeches and give advice. In the early days of their marriage she had travelled with him, but Molly’s birth had intervened and their home base was now a very comfortable town house in London, convenient for Xan’s office in the City. They spent holidays on Thira, finding the more laid-back lifestyle there perfect for raising their young family. When they wanted alone time as a couple, they flew to the South of France and left the grandparents in charge of their household.

  Ariadne was an adoring grandmother but not as regularly available as Dmitri and Sally, who had, after a lengthy and very discreet relationship, married the year before at around the same time as Dmitri had taken early retirement. They now owned a house on the island and were regular visitors, just as Xan’s siblings were. Family parties were regular events on Thira, and Elvi had become accustomed to hosting everything from barbecues to christenings. She loved the fact that their children were growing up with their cousins and enjoyed a wide circle of relatives, unlike herself.

  Daniel had graduated in medicine and was now entering hospital training where his working hours would be very much longer. Elvi was grateful that her brother was based at a London hospital where she hoped to see more of him.

  ‘You do appreciate that I have been away from you for an entire week,’ Xan murmured, cornering her on the landing to extract a very hungry kiss from her willingly parted lips.

  Her heart singing, Elvi gave him a sparkling smile.

  ‘I did have this fantasy where you were waiting on the front step to greet me,’ Xan told her as he walked her down to their bedroom.

  ‘Like a Victorian servant?’ Elvi asked with intense amusement dancing in her eyes.

  ‘And then I had to go find you on the beach and you’re covered in sand and windblown and...absolutely gorgeous,’ Xan emphasised huskily, backing her down on the bed. ‘And now you’re going to get sand all over the bed—’

  ‘Of course, if you’re that fastidious I could go and have a shower first,’ Elvi proffered, knowing he wouldn’t have the patience to wait even three minutes.

  Xan was undressing where he stood and nothing got hung up or carefully draped. Indeed, his tie, shoes and socks went flying. Of course, she knew he would tidy it all up afterwards and complain about the unfortunate effect she had on him. Confident that she was entirely the centre of his attention, Elvi shimmied seductively out of her sundress, skimmed off the last garments with panache and knelt on the bed, veiled in the hair he wouldn’t let her cut. And as he studied her, she studied him, her breath catching in her throat as the long, taut muscular lines of his beautiful body emerged.

  The hunger never died, she thought dreamily, turning her face up for his kiss, rejoicing in the fact that the whole world stopped for her when Xan was with her. It was the kind of happiness she had never hoped to find and he had given it to her, he had made her feel secure and adored and more precious than the diamonds he was continually gifting her.

  ‘I love you,’ she said softly. ‘You never know your luck—I might wait on the front step for you the next time—’

  ‘No, I like this...just you and me, hara mou,’ Xan insisted, gathering her into his arms with a deep sigh of satisfaction, because coming home to his family, slipping back into the warm and happy at
mosphere Elvi created for them, was the greatest pleasure of his life. ‘Loving each other and living happily ever after... I didn’t think I’d ever have that, but you gave it to me.’

  * * * * *

  If you enjoyed The Greek’s Blackmailed Mistress

  you’re sure to enjoy these other stories by Lynne Graham!

  Da Rocha’s Convenient Heir

  Castiglione’s Pregnant Princess

  The Secret Valtinos Baby

  His Queen by Desert Decree

  Available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from The Heir the Prince Secures by Jennie Lucas.

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  The Heir the Prince Secures

  by Jennie Lucas

  CHAPTER ONE

  LOVE MEANT EVERYTHING to Tess Foster.

  Not just love. Romance. Pink roses. Castles and hearts.

  As a lonely teenager living in the attic of her aunt and uncle’s Brooklyn bakery, Tess tried to keep her romantic dreams secret. In a modern world of easy hookups and one-night stands, it was embarrassing, even shameful, to be an idealistic virgin waiting for true love. As other girls giggled over their first fumbling sexual experiences in the back seats of cars, Tess kept quiet and hoped no one would notice that she spent her own Saturday nights with dusty books in the library, dreaming of handsome princes.

  She’d known, even then, that when she finally gave herself to a man, it would only be to someone she truly loved. She’d wear white on her wedding day and lose her virginity on their honeymoon. She’d settle for nothing less than the fairy tale.

  Then, at twenty-four, she met Stefano.

  One moment, she’d been working as a waitress at a glamorous cocktail party hosted by a Spanish media mogul. Carrying a silver tray of champagne flutes through a crowd of movie stars and tycoons, Tess had been lost in thought, worrying whether she’d be able to afford another semester of design school.

  Then a handsome stranger’s dark, smoldering gaze had pierced her heart, making her lose her breath.

  That had been it. That one look from him had almost brought her to her knees.

  Because no one had ever looked at her like that. It was as if Tess, the hopeless, invisible wallflower, had suddenly become the most desirable, fascinating woman in all the world.

  And the man who was looking at her...

  Dark and sexy, he’d stood arrogantly apart, his perfectly cut tuxedo a mere veneer of civilization over his powerful, muscular body. His dark eyes had burned through her as he came toward her, moving with an almost feline grace.

  “Buonasera,” he’d said huskily.

  Tess had turned the silver tray toward him so fast the flutes nearly knocked over. Her voice had squeaked. “Champagne?”

  “No.” With a sensual smile, he’d glanced at the martini already in his hand. “I don’t want champagne.”

  “Something else, then?”

  His voice was husky, with the barest trace of an accent. “I want your name.”

  And that had been the start of the most spectacular night of Tess’s life. When she’d finished her shift at the party, he’d whisked her off in his chauffeured town car to an elegant, romantic dinner at the most exclusive restaurant in New York. Afterward, he’d suggested they go dancing. When she’d said she didn’t have a dress, he’d stopped at a designer boutique and bought her one that sparkled and swayed against her skin.

  She’d tried to resist, but she couldn’t. Not when he’d looked at her like that.

  Tess had danced in his arms for hours before he’d kissed her, leaving her intoxicated, breathless. He’d invited her to his suite at the luxurious Leighton Hotel. Looking into his dark, hungry eyes, she’d known only one answer.

  “Yes,” she’d whispered.

  In just one night, he’d ruthlessly taken her virginity. And more than that: he’d dazzled her lonely, romantic heart into loving him.

  But the next morning, waking up alone in the cold, gray dawn, she realized that she’d never even learned his full name.

  A few weeks later, she’d found out she was pregnant. Her uncle had been furious, her aunt disappointed in her.

  For the last fourteen months, even as Tess’s two best friends, Hallie Hatfield and Lola Price, had rolled their eyes, she’d stubbornly insisted that Stefano would someday return to claim her and their baby. After all, even if she didn’t know his last name, he knew hers. Stefano could find her anytime he wanted.

  If he hadn’t come yet, there had to be a good reason. Maybe he had amnesia, or his plane had crashed on a desert island. Those things happened, didn’t they? Tess imagined every reason she could think of, except for the obvious one. Her friends thought she was nuts.

  But Tess had to believe Stefano would return. Because, otherwise, she’d surrendered all her dreams for nothing. She’d given up her chance for a career, for marriage, for one love that would last her whole life—all for a one-night stand that had left her pregnant, abandoned and alone.

  If Stefano didn’t come back, it would mean the world was a cold and unforgiving place, and all the fairy tales her mother had read her as a child were wrong. Tess didn’t want to live in a world like that. So she’d done her best to believe.

  Suddenly, tonight, she couldn’t.

  Not for one more second.

  Tess’s shoulders drooped as she wearily pushed her five-month-old baby’s stroller out of the Campania Hotel New York. It was ten o’clock on a warm, humid night in early September, but the night was just getting started. The streets were crowded with people leaving restaurants and streaming out of Broadway theaters, their faces animated and bright as they passed beneath the sparkling lights of the hotel’s porte cochere.

  Tess felt empty and sad. She’d just watched her friend Hallie sing at her husband’s luxury hotel. After Hallie’s amazing performance, Cristiano had publicly declared his love for his wife.

  She was glad for Hallie, truly she was. Her friend deserved every happiness, especially after what she’d gone through. Normally, Tess would have told herself that seeing a couple so deeply in love proved that it might still happen for her, too.

  But not tonight.

  She’d been up since four that morning, working at her uncle’s bakery while also caring for her baby. She felt sweaty and exhausted. Tendrils of her long red hair were plastered to her neck. Even Tess’s jaunty handmade outfit, a vintage-style shirt and midi pencil skirt with mixing patterns, was wrinkled. She
looked down at her adorable sleeping baby, her plump cheeks and dark hair, and a hard lump rose to her throat.

  For over a year, she’d ignored her uncle’s criticism, her aunt’s disappointed sighs and her friends’ teasing. She’d told herself Stefano would come back to her. But after seeing Hallie and Cristiano together, so happy together in their own little world, Tess had realized she was fooling herself.

  Give it up. A memory came of Lola’s tart voice. He’s never coming back, Tess.

  Tess stopped. As streams of people passed by her stroller on both sides of the sidewalk, she savagely wiped tears off her cheeks. She’d planned to take the subway back to Brooklyn with her baby rather than ask Hallie for a ride and risk crying in front of her. Her friends always teased her about being too cheerful and optimistic. She couldn’t let them know how she really felt inside.

  But that was wrong. Hallie was her friend, and Tess had left without so much as a farewell. Taking a deep breath, she tried to smooth her face into a smile. She’d go back inside now and congratulate Hallie. And if she asked why Tess was crying—

  As Tess started to turn, she walked into a wall.

  Not a wall. A man.

  For a second, she saw stars from the blunt force of hitting her head against his chest. Dizzy, she shook her head, mortified.

  “I’m so sorry,” she blurted out. “It was my fault—”

  Then she saw him.

  For a second, Tess couldn’t breathe. Her heart pounded in her throat as she tilted her head back to stare at the man’s handsome face, his sharp cheekbones and jawline shadowed by the lights of the hotel’s grand porte cochere.

  Tall and dark-haired, the man wore a sleek black jacket that emphasized his broad shoulders, and trousers that fit snugly over powerful thighs. His tailored shirt was open a single button at the neck.

  He wasn’t strictly handsome, perhaps. His aquiline profile was a bit too arrogant, the set of his square jaw too thuggish. But he gave the impression of intense masculine beauty. His face was arresting, his body powerful, giving him the look of a dark angel.