Mediterranean Tycoons. JACQUELINE BAIRD
He expected to be waited on hand and foot. He had probably dropped his shoes, jacket and tie in a trail across the bedroom floor, she guessed. ‘What’s it look like? I’m unpacking,’ she said facetiously. ‘It’s what we lesser mortals do.’
Hooded black eyes narrowed on hers. ‘I employ staff for such things.’
‘Yes, O lord and master,’ she muttered under her breath.
‘I heard that,’ Marcus drawled silkily. ‘And as long as you remember it, we’ll get along fine.’
He scanned her wide green eyes, anticipating her angry rebuttal, but surprisingly she simply said, ‘Okay,’ and stood up.
‘Wait.’ He caught her arm as she would have walked past him, inexplicably angered by her apparent indifference. ‘The staff are employed to take care of my guests; they are happy to have a job, and will be insulted if you do not use them.’ He sounded like a pompous prig, he knew, and the knowledge made him frown in self-disgust.
Eloise glanced at the hand on her bare arm, and up into his thunderously frowning face. ‘Yes…okay.’
Damn it. She was doing it again, with the okay, and he didn’t like it one bit. Thinking about it now, he realised she had been doing it ever since Katy had lent her voice to his, in persuading Eloise to agree to come to Greece with him. She had been the same on the plane.
His dark eyes narrowed intently on her lovely face for a long moment. But her usual brilliant green eyes returned his scrutiny expressionlessly; something was missing. He felt like shaking her. Instead, his hard features perceptibly darkened.
‘O…kay,’ he drawled cynically. ‘Now share a shower with me,’ he demanded with deliberate provocation, his fingers tightening on her arm.
Eloise was aware that Marcus was trying to rile her on purpose. Why, she had no idea. The only connection between them was sex, and from now on it was going to stay that way until their relationship had run to its natural conclusion, and without trust on either side that should not take too long. But for the moment she had to stay away from England; that was the most important thought in her head.
If she discovered she was unlucky enough to be pregnant, then all deals were off, KHE would have to get by without her, and she would be on her own. In the meantime, she would enjoy what Marcus offered. She could be as hard as a man, if she tried.
‘Yes, okay.’ She lifted her hand and placed it on his broad chest. ‘Whatever you say.’
Marcus made love to her hard and fast with the water cascading over their naked bodies, he felt her climax, her fingernails tearing into his back as they both reached shattering fulfilment at the same time.
His breathing rough and audible, he shot her a blistering glance, and slowly unwound her long legs from around his waist and lowered her limp body to the floor. With one arm supporting her, he reached over and turned off the shower tap, then dropped a soft kiss on her forehead.
‘We’d better get out of here and get dressed,’ he said ruefully. ‘I meant to tell you before I was distracted—Aunt Christine and Stella are coming for cocktails and dinner.’
Reeling under the force of her own response, to be hit with his relatives’ arrival in pretty much the next breath simply confirmed for Eloise she had been right to decide emotional detachment was the only way to deal with Marcus.
Straightening, she shrugged off his arm. ‘Right, okay,’ she said calmly and, unconscious of her nudity, she stepped out of the shower. She picked a towel from the pile provided, wrapped it around her naked body and left the bathroom, without looking back at Marcus.
Okay—she had done it again… An incredulous frown pleating his broad brow, Marcus grabbed a towel and flung it around his hips. For the first time in his adult life he felt guilty about having sex, and he didn’t like the feeling one bit.
Eloise quickly dried her body and slipped on her clothes without glancing in a mirror. She felt as if she was moving, talking, acting through a swirling fog. She had felt like this before and knew it was the shock of hearing the news about Rick Pritchard, and she had to battle to break free. Only in Marcus’s arms had she become truly aware again, a wry smile twisted her lips. Unfortunately, she couldn’t spend the rest of the day in his arms. She knew from past experience it usually took about twenty-four hours for the paralysing fear to fade.
Dinner was not the ordeal Eloise had expected. Christine was a woman in her forties. She must have been Marcus’s mum’s younger sister, Eloise surmised. She was small and plump with gentle brown eyes, and Stella at seventeen was a younger version. It became increasingly apparent to Eloise as the meal progressed that Christine obviously had no knowledge of the state her husband had left his affairs in. She was a lovely lady and, from her comments to Marcus and to Eloise, it was obvious she had total and utter faith in Marcus to look after the financial side of her life.
After admiring the amber pendant Eloise was wearing and hearing Eloise worked as a jewellery designer, Christine remarked, ‘You are the first girl my nephew has seen fit to introduce to our small family, and you are lucky. He is brilliant at business; he will help you.’ She turned her warm brown eyes to Marcus. ‘I am right. No?’
Eloise swallowed a lump in her throat at the expression of tender love they exchanged. And when the evening was over and Eloise stood at the door of the villa and was subjected to a hug and a kiss from Christine and Stella, plus a demand she must visit them for a meal, her throat closed up with emotion.
This would not do, she told herself, walking back inside. In any other circumstances she could have really loved Marcus’s relatives… But the knowledge that her mother Chloe had had an affair with Christine’s late husband and conned him out of a great deal of money made the bile rise in her throat and left her with an acrid taste on her tongue.
Meeting Christine had brought it home to her as nothing else could why Marcus held her in such low regard.
‘Would you like a nightcap?’ the object of her thoughts enquired as they entered the hall.
She arched her shapely brows. ‘Not wise after all the wine I have consumed,’ she responded flippantly. Actually, she hadn’t drunk much, but she wanted to get away from Marcus for a while.
‘Don’t worry. I won’t let you get drunk,’ he advised her smoothly, his narrowed dark eyes skimming over her figure. Every shapely curve revealed by the green silk dress which was held up by tiny sequinned shoulder straps. It was so slim-fitting that there was a split up one side to enable her to walk, and he remembered the fun he had had buying it for her in Paris with a smile.
Eloise lifted a graceful shoulder. ‘Yes, all right.’
His smile extinguished, Marcus’s sensuous mouth tightened into a hard line. She looked at him and smiled, but it was as if she wasn’t there. ‘Sit on the terrace. I’ll bring the drinks out,’ he snapped. Without a word Eloise sat down and, instead of being pleased she had done as he said, Marcus felt irrationally angry.
Reclining on a lounger on the terrace with a glass of juice in her hand, Eloise glanced across at Marcus. He was leaning against the ornate balustrade, staring down at her. In a white dinner jacket and black trousers, he was devastatingly handsome, but the hint of anger glinting in the darkness of his eyes was unsettling. What had she done wrong now? she wondered bitterly. Not servile enough for him? Well, tough…
‘You liked Christine and Stella?’ Marcus prompted.
‘Yes, they’re both charming. In other circumstances I’m sure we could have been friends.’
‘What do you mean—in other circumstances?’ he demanded hardily. ‘There is nothing wrong with now.’
Gracefully, Eloise rose to her feet and, after draining her glass, placed it on a nearby table.
‘Okay, if you say so.’
‘No, it is not damn well okay.’ Marcus moved to block her path his hands closing like