Greek Affairs: Claiming His Child: The Greek's Million-Dollar Baby Bargain / The Greek Millionaire's Secret Child / The Greek's Long-Lost Son. Rebecca Winters
stared after him a moment, rubbing where he’d gripped her arm. A bruise was already coming up from all the bashing it had received on the journey here. She set off again, pausing to take off her canvas shoes as she reached the sand. It was slow progress in the deep soft sand, and by the time she caught up with them Nikos was already making camp in the lee of some rocks to the side of the beach, spreading out a rug over a groundsheet. Ari was helping—if upending the kit bag and rummaging through for spades and buckets could be considered helpful. Finding what he wanted, he immediately started to dig a hole. Ann watched him a moment, a smile playing on her lips. Ari definitely seemed to like his sand holes. As she turned to put her own beach bag down on the rug, she realised that Nikos was watching her, with a different expression from usual on his face. It seemed—assessing.
She busied herself unpacking her bag. She didn’t really know what was expected of the day, and had had no intention of asking Nikos, so she had brought what she thought would be likely—including a swimsuit, which she was wearing under her clothes. But not the two-piece. Today’s was a workmanlike one piece that was as unrevealing of her figure as a swimsuit could be. Whether she would have the nerve to strip down to it in Nikos Theakis’ presence, she didn’t know, but she did know that if Ari wanted her to come in the water with him she would not turn him down.
For something to do, and to stop feeling as awkward as she did, she went over to Ari and inspected the progress of his hole so far.
‘Would you like me to help?’ she offered. It seemed preferable to being stuck with his uncle’s company.
Ari shook his head. ‘You and Uncle Nikki have to dig your own holes, and the biggest hole wins,’ he informed her.
‘I’ll start one here,’ said Ann, moving a little away and dropping to her knees to begin. ‘Your uncle can dig his own.’
There was a bite in her words as she spoke that she did not trouble to mute. Nor the unspoken coda—and bury himself in it too, for all I care!
She set to, scrabbling at the soft sand until a darker, more compact layer was exposed, which could be dug into satisfactorily. She dug industriously, using her bare hands, pausing only to retie her hair into a pigtail to stop it falling forward.
A shadow fell over her, and then Nikos was hunkering down to inspect both holes.
‘Mine is deeper!’ claimed Ari.
‘You started earlier,’ said Nikos. ‘And you are using a spade.’
‘Auntie Annie can have my spare spade,’ said Ari generously, and pushed it across to Ann.
‘Auntie Annie …’ Nikos’s voice was musing.
‘Tina has started referring to me as that,’ said Ann shortly, reaching for Ari’s spare spade and thanking him.
Nikos’s eyes rested on her unreadably. ‘You do not seem like an “Auntie Annie,”’ he said. ‘Nor even like a plain and simple “Ann.” Surely, once you were able to afford your new wealthy lifestyle, you aspired to a new name to reflect your new image? Even Anna would be more exotic.’
Ann ignored him, merely digging more vigorously.
Nikos levered himself back upright. Why had he let himself bait her like that? It was just that there was something about her today that was galling him more than ever. The intervening days had been intended to put a mental as well as physical distance from her, and though he had had been reluctant to leave her with his mother without his watchful eye, not only had he had things to do in Athens that could not be postponed easily, he’d also wanted a break from Ann Turner.
She was too disturbing to his peace of mind—and not just because of the threat she presented to his family. Ann Turner’s presence on Sospiris disturbed him for quite another reason. One he was determined to crush just as ruthlessly as he would crush any attempt on her part to extract yet more money from the Theakis coffers.
While in Athens he had deliberately kept his evenings busy with social events. It was inconvenient, however, that he was currently between affairs. It would have suited him to have someone to take his mind off Ann Turner. She had occupied far too much of it already. Exasperatingly, any hopes that he’d had that when he returned to Sospiris he’d find her considerably less eye-drawing had evaporated on his return. The damn woman had just the same effect on him as before.
It rattled him.
It shouldn’t be happening. He knew exactly what she was, and that should be sufficient—more than sufficient!—to put him off her big-time. And yet—
And yet he had found himself once again, covertly watching her—telling himself it was because he was keeping her under surveillance, to show her that every word she uttered was suspect, that he had the measure of her even if she were fooling his mother, and taking in the sculpted line of her jaw, the graceful fall of her hair, the wide-set grey eyes, the sensuous swell of her breasts.
And now it was even worse. His mother had manoeuvred him into taking Ari and the boy’s pernicious aunt on this benighted jaunt. And for Ari’s sake he could not refuse, nor spoil it for him by allowing his hostility to show.
His eyes rested on her bowed head. She was digging away as if possessed, refusing to pay him any attention. And that was another thing—the fact that she wasn’t paying him any attention. Deliberately. Conspicuously. She was doing it on purpose, obviously, in an act of defiance—doubtless hoping that it would maybe convince him of a moral purity that was impossible for a woman who had sold her nephew for cash. Her hypocrisy infuriated him.
His mouth set. So Ann Turner, hypocrite and baby-seller, thought she could blank him, did she? Thought she could look through him, cut him, ignore him—defy him? Thought she’d run circles round him by ending up ensconced here, in the lap of luxury, ingratiating herself with his mother, his nephew—the nephew she’d sold?
Anger filled him as he watched them—the little boy that was all that was left of the brother he had lost, of the son his mother had lost, and the girl who had valued a million pounds more than an orphaned child, her blood kin. How dared she play the hypocrite? Not just with him, Nikos Theakis, who could see through her hypocrisy, but with the innocent Ari …
Harsh eyes looked at her.
You play with the child you sold to put designer clothes on your back, to jet you around the world …
A memory came back to him—one that filled him with deepest disgust, blackest rage.
Not of Ann Turner.
Of her sister.
A woman who had offered her body for cash—cash from any man who could afford it. Any man rich enough to keep her in the luxury she thought she was worth. Any man …
Bleak, empty eyes looked now on Carla’s sister. So, just what was the beautiful, alluring Ann Turner prepared to do to get more money?
His mouth twisted into a travesty of a smile as the thought resolved slowly, temptingly, in his mind. What would she do if he made her an offer he’d make it very, very hard for her to refuse?
Very hard—
For a long moment he just went on looking down at the silvery-gold head. He could feel the blood stirring in his veins as he made his decision. Yes, that was exactly what he would do—make her an offer he would ensure it was impossible for her to refuse, and in so doing take the greatest satisfaction possible himself—in more ways than one! Indulge himself with her exactly as he wanted to. And all in the best possible cause—getting her claws out of his family. Permanently.
Ann sat back and looked at her hole. At least digging it seemed to have shut Nikos Theakis up in his attempts to talk to her.
She looked across at Ari. ‘How’s it coming?’ she enquired.
He paused, and looked across at her. ‘Is yours bigger?’ he asked.
‘I’m not sure,’ she temporised.
‘Uncle