The Millionaire's True Worth

by Rebecca Winters

  “Darling? I know I told you I’d be at the penthouse when you got back from Crete, but I decided that since it’s Friday, I’d rather we spent the weekend at the villa so I’ll see you when I see you. Hurry. S’agapo.”

  She had no idea when he’d hear the message, let alone when he’d be home. It was already ten after five. Between her shock and excitement since her morning appointment at the doctor’s office in Athens, she wouldn’t be surprised if she were running a temperature.

  To get ready for tonight she’d stopped at an internet café to look for the picture she wanted. When she found it, she printed it off. Next, she went to a high-fashion boutique and found the perfect Grecian gown of lilac chiffon that tied over one shoulder.

  After running by a florist’s shop, she headed for the hair salon near the Grand Bretagne hotel and asked the stylist to make her hair look like the picture on the printout and twine the small lavender flowers in it. From there she went to a shop to buy a dozen vanilla-scented candles. Last but not least, she stopped at a boutique for infants and bought a beautiful baby book, which she had wrapped.

  Once her errands were done, she returned to the penthouse and took the helicopter to Anti Paxos.

  Time was of the essence. She made his favorite chicken salad with olives and feta cheese and would combine it with crusty rolls and fresh fruit. With the dinner ready, she went out on the patio to set the table. In between the potted plants she placed the candles, and put the last three for a centerpiece. She hid the baby book behind a big clay pot filled with azaleas.

  Now to get dressed. After her shower she put on the gown. While she was tying it at the shoulder, her cell rang. Giddy with joy, she reached for it and saw the caller ID. “Darling?” she cried the second she picked up.

  “I just got your message. Vasso and I are headed for the island now. You didn’t want to go out on the town tonight?”

  “Not really. Do you mind?”

  “What do you think? If I had my way, we wouldn’t go anywhere else.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way. Are you hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “How soon do you think you’ll be here?”

  “Fifteen minutes. You sound like you’ve missed me.”

  She was breathless. “I know it’s only been two days, but I feel like it’s been a month!”

  “I’m never going to spend another night away from you. Not having you in bed with me was torture I don’t want to live through again.”

  “Neither do I. Hurry home and be safe.” We have a future awaiting you never thought was possible.

  It took a few minutes for her to light all the candles. The flames flickered in the scented air, sending out their marvelous fragrance Akis said he loved. Twilight had fallen over the island. She’d just lighted the table candles when she heard the blades rotating.

  He’d be here any second. She walked to the terrace entrance to wait. In a minute she heard him call out, “Raina? Where are you?”

  Taking a deep breath she said, “I’m out on the patio.”

  Her gorgeous husband appeared in the living room wearing a sport shirt and trousers, but he stopped short of coming any closer. She could see he was almost dumbstruck. Good. That was exactly the reaction she’d hoped for.

  His black eyes had a laser-like quality as they examined her from the flowers on her head to the gold slippers on her feet. She saw desire in that all-encompassing gaze and almost fainted.

  “You’ve been away, so I wanted to make your homecoming special. Tonight you’re going to stay with me or I’ll think you’ve forsaken me. Come and eat while I serve you. I have a special surprise.”

  She heard him whisper her name, but he looked absolutely dazed. She loved him so much she could hardly stand it.

  “Would you like your surprise first, or later?”

  His hand passed over his chest. “I don’t think I could handle another one. The way you look tonight standing there like a vision from Mount Olympus, I’m having trouble breathing.”

  Raina sent him a come-hither smile. “That’s more like it. I thought maybe you’d forgotten me.”

  He started to look nervous. “Is there something wrong?” She could see an anxious expression in his eyes. It was sweet really. Her darling husband was so wonderful, she needed to put him out of his misery.

  “Of course not. You’re always so generous and take such perfect care of me, can’t your lover do something special for you without you worrying?”

  His chest rose and fell visibly, evidence that he needed an answer. Afraid to carry this charade any further without an explanation he could live with, she walked over to the flowerpot and pulled out the wrapped package.

  “If you’ll sit down at the table with me, I’ll give this to you.”

  Instead of the happiness she’d expected, he looked stricken. “It’s our six-week anniversary. I planned to give you your gift tonight while we were out to dinner in Athens. But I left it at the penthouse.”

  “There’s plenty of time for you to give it to me. Right now why don’t you open yours.” She walked over to the table and put the present on top of his plate, then she sat down opposite him.

  Akis moved slowly, like he was walking through water. Then he sank down in the chair stiffly and reached for it, but he kept looking at her. Why was he behaving like this? She couldn’t understand it.

  When he pulled the baby book out of the wrapping, she thought he’d paled, but it was difficult to tell in the candle light. His black brows furrowed. “What kind of a joke is this?”

  With that question, she finally understood how much he’d suffered because he thought he could never be a father.

  “It’s no joke. I’ve been nauseated every morning for the last week. I asked Chloe to get me in to see her OB this morning in Athens. He took a blood test. I’m pregnant with your baby.”

  His head reared. He stared at her. “But that’s impossible.”

  “I told my doctor the same thing. He said that mumps for a certain percentage of men cause a drop in their sperm count. But research has come a long way since ten years ago when you came down with them. Since then, he says you’ve recovered.” She put a hand on his arm and squeezed it. “You had to have recovered because I’m pregnant.”

  When the truth finally sank in, the chair scraped on the tile. He shot out of it and came around to pick her up in his arms, holding her like a bride. “We’re going to have a baby! Raina—”

  He carried her through the house to their bedroom and followed her body down onto the bed. His mouth kissed her so long and hard, she could scarcely breathe. “My precious love.” Over and over he kissed every inch of her face and hair. The tie on her shoulder had come undone. She felt moisture on her skin. By now they were both in tears.

  “I didn’t know it was possible I could be this happy, Akis.”

  “I still can’t believe it.” His hand slid down her body to her stomach, sending darts of delight through her. He leaned over to kiss her through the chiffon. “Our baby is inside you.”

  “Incredible, isn’t it. Do you want a boy or a girl?”

  “Don’t ask me a question like that. I don’t care. I only know I want you to take care of yourself. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

  She hugged his head to her breast, kissing his black hair. “Please don’t be afraid for me. I’m not your mother. I won’t die after giving birth. I’m strong and in perfect health. The doctor has given me a prescription for nausea. I’ve had all day to consider names. I can’t think of a girl’s name yet, but I know what I want if we have a boy.”

  He lifted his head. His eyes were filled with liquid. “Tell me,” he whispered, kissing her mouth.

  “Patroklos Giannopoulos after your father. We can call him Klos for short. I looked up his name. It means glory of the fat
her. It’s a perfect name to revere the man who fathered you and Vasso.”

  “It might be a girl,” he murmured, kissing her neck to hide the emotions she knew were brimming out of him.

  “Of course. But I draw the line at Phaiax.”

  All of a sudden that delightful, rumbling sound of male laughter poured out of Akis. He rolled her on top of him. “My adorable Naiad nymph. If we have a daughter, we’ll name her Ginger after her earthly great-grandmother who raised you to be the superb woman you are.”

  “Hmm.” Raina drew her finger across his lower lip. “Ginger Giannopoulos. I love it. Almost as much as I love my husband who has given me a priceless gift. Darling—I know what this news means to you. I also know that you and Vasso share everything. Go ahead and call him, then I’ll have your whole attention.”

  A half smile broke the corner of his mouth. “Am I that transparent?”

  “It’s a beautiful thing to see two brothers so devoted to each other. Your joy will be his. Here. Use my phone.” It was lying on the bedside table.

  Their conversation was short and so touching, she teared up again. When he hung up, he crushed her in his arms. “Thank God my brother phoned you in the middle of the night.”

  She clasped him to her. “I know now that Grandpa was inspired when he told me not to close off my heart. He knew something I didn’t. I love you so much. I’m the luckiest woman on earth. The doctor says I probably got pregnant on our wedding night.”

  “Have you told Chloe?”

  “No. I simply asked her to give me the name of her OB since I needed a prescription for birth control. I think news like mine should be reserved for the man who’s made me the happiest woman in the world.”

  “We haven’t seen them since the wedding. Let’s invite them over on Sunday and tell them together.”

  “I’d love it, but right now I want to concentrate on you. Do you want to eat first?”

  “Not yet. I need to inspect my pregnant wife from head to toe.”

  Heat swept into her cheeks. “You already did when you saw me standing on the patio.”

  “I’ll never forget the sight of you in this gown with those flowers in your hair and the air fragrant with vanilla. But there are other sights meant for me and me alone. Come here to me, Raina.”

  “I’m here. S’agapo, my wonderful, fantastic Akis.”

  * * * * *

  Read on for an extract from THE EARL’S CONVENIENT WIFE by Marion Lennox.

  CHAPTER ONE

  MARRY...

  There was deathly silence in the magnificent library of the ancient castle of Duncairn. In specially built niches round the walls were the bottles of whisky Jeanie had scraped to afford. Weirdly, that was what she was focusing on. What a waste. How much whisky could she fit in a suitcase?

  How many scores of fruitcakes would they make? There was no way she was leaving them behind. For him. For her prospective bridegroom?

  What a joke.

  She’d been clinging to the hope that she might keep her job. She knew the Lord of Duncairn didn’t like her, but she’d worked hard to give Duncairn Castle the reputation for hospitality it now enjoyed.

  It didn’t matter. Her efforts were for nothing. This crazy will meant she was out on her ear.

  ‘This must be a joke.’ Alasdair McBride, the sixteenth Earl of Duncairn, sounded appalled. It was no wonder. She stood to lose her job. Alasdair stood to lose his...fiefdom?

  ‘A last will and testament is never a joke.’ Edward McCraig, of the prestigious law firm McCraig, McCraig & McFerry, had made the long journey from Edinburgh to be at today’s funeral for Eileen McBride—Alasdair’s grandmother and Jeanie’s employer. He’d sat behind Jeanie in the Duncairn Kirk and listened to the eulogies with an air of supressed impatience. He wished to catch the last ferry back to the mainland. He was now seated in one of the library’s opulent chairs, reading the old lady’s wishes to her only surviving grandson—and to the live-in help.

  He shuffled his papers and pushed his glasses further down his nose, looking at neither of them. Crazy or not, Eileen’s will clearly made him uncomfortable.

  Jeanie looked at Alasdair and then looked away. This might be a mess, but it had little to do with her, she decided. She went back to counting whisky bottles. Maybe three suitcases? She only had one, but there were crates in the castle cellars. If she was brave enough to face the dark and the spiders...

  Could you sell whisky online?

  She glanced back at Alasdair and found his gaze was following hers, along the line of whisky. With an oath—a mixture of fury and shock—he took three glasses from the sideboard and poured.

  Soda-sized whiskies.

  The lawyer shook his head but Jeanie took hers with gratitude. The will had been a nasty shock. It was excellent whisky and she couldn’t take it all with her.

  But it did need to be treated with respect. As the whisky hit home she choked and sank onto one of the magnificent down-filled sofas. A cloud of dog hair rose around her. She really had to do something about Eileen’s dogs.

  Or not. This will said they were no longer her problem. She’d have to leave the island. She couldn’t take the dogs and she loved them. This castle might be over-the-top opulent, but she loved it, too. She felt...befuddled.

  ‘So how do we get around this?’ Clearly the whisky wasn’t having the same effect on Alasdair that it was on her. His glass was almost empty. She looked at him in awe. Actually she’d been looking sideways at Alasdair all afternoon. Well, why not? He might be arrogant, he might have despised her from the first time he’d met her, but he’d always been worth looking at.

  Alasdair McBride was thirty-seven years old, and he was what Jeanie’s granny would have described as a man to be reckoned with. Although he didn’t use it, his hereditary title fitted him magnificently, especially today. In honour of his grandmother’s funeral he was wearing full highland regalia, and he looked awesome.

  Jeanie always had had a weakness for a man in a kilt, and the Duncairn tartan was gorgeous. Okay, the Earl of Duncairn was gorgeous, she conceded. Six foot two in his stockinged feet, with jet-black hair and the striking bone structure and strength of the warrior race he’d so clearly descended from, Alasdair McBride was a man to make every eye in the room turn to him. The fact that he controlled the massive Duncairn financial empire only added to his aura of power, but he needed no such addition to look what he was—a man in control of his world.

  Except...now he wasn’t. His grandmother’s will had just pulled the rug from under his feet.

  And hers. Marry? So much for her quiet life as the Duncairn housekeeper.

  ‘You can’t get around it,’ the lawyer was saying. ‘The will is inviolate.’

  ‘Do you think...?’ She was testing her voice for the first time since the bombshell had landed. ‘Do you think that Eileen might possibly have been...have been...?’

  ‘Lady McBride was in full possession of her senses.’ The lawyer cast her a cautious look as if he was expecting her to disintegrate into hysterics. ‘My client understood her will was slightly...unusual...so she took steps to see that it couldn’t be overturned. She arranged a certificate of medical competency, dated the same day she made the will.’

  Alasdair drained the rest of his whisky and poured another, then spun to look out of the great bay window looking over the sea.

  It was a magnificent window. A few highland cattle grazed peacefully in the late-summer sun, just beyond the ha-ha. Further on, past rock-strewn burns and craggy hills, were the remnants of a vast medieval fortress on the shoreline. Two eagles were soaring effortlessly in the thermals. If he used binoculars, he might even see otters in the burns running into the sea, Jeanie thought. Or deer. Or...

  Or her mind was wandering. She put her glass down, glanced at Alasdair’s broad back and
felt a twist of real sympathy. Eileen had been good to her already, and in death she owed her nothing. Alasdair’s loss, however, was appalling. She might not like the man, but he hadn’t deserved this.

  Oh, Eileen, what were you thinking? she demanded wordlessly of her deceased employer—but there was nothing Jeanie could do.

  ‘I guess that’s it, then,’ she managed, addressing herself to the lawyer. ‘How long do I have before you want me out?’

  ‘There’s no rush,’ the lawyer told her. ‘It’ll take a while to get the place ready for sale.’

  ‘Do you want me to keep trading? I have guests booked until the end of next month.’

  ‘That would be excellent. We may arrange for you to stay even longer. It’d be best if we could sell it as a going concern.’

  ‘No!’ The explosion was so fierce it almost rocked the room. Alasdair turned from the window and slammed his glass onto the coffee table so hard it shattered. He didn’t seem to notice.

  ‘It can’t happen.’ Alasdair’s voice lowered, no longer explosive but cold and hard and sure. ‘My family’s entire history, sold to fund...dogs’ homes?’

  ‘It’s a worthy cause,’ the lawyer ventured but Alasdair wasn’t listening.

  ‘This castle is the least of it,’ he snapped. ‘Duncairn is one of the largest financial empires in Europe. Do you know how much our organisation gives to charity each year? Sold, it could give every lost dog in Europe a personal attendant and gold-plated dog bowl for the rest of its life, but then it’s gone. Maintained, we can do good—we are doing good. This will is crazy. I’ll channel every penny of profit into dog care for the next ten years if I must, but to give it away...’

  ‘I understand it would mean the end of your career—’ the lawyer ventured but he was cut off.

  ‘It’s not the end of my career.’

  If Lord Alasdair had had another glass, Jeanie was sure it’d have gone the way of the first.