Mistress: Taming the Playboy. Sharon Kendrick
was possible to get? As if kissing her had been nothing more than a conditioned response for him, while for her it had been …
What? Her betraying body shivered with sweet memory. What had it been? Like being transported straight to paradise without stopping? Or—even worse—a reactivation of that passionate longing he had awoken in her the very first time she’d looked into his eyes all those years ago? When she’d believed in love at first sight and had cried for months after he’d gone.
But such emotion was completely wasted. He doesn’t like you, she reminded herself bitterly—and he certainly doesn’t respect you. For him you’re just another willing body in a long line of willing bodies who have been welcoming him into their arms all his life.
Once she had been blinded by youth and inexperience and his sheer charisma, and she had willingly fallen into bed with him. But now things were different. She had too much to lose to risk throwing it all away on some feel-good sex which would leave her physically satisfied but emotionally bereft. Sex which he might use against her to paint a black picture of her morals. Or which might prejudice her attempts to have a reasonable relationship with him for the sake of his son.
‘Shall we just put it down to experience and make sure it doesn’t happen again?’ she questioned unsteadily.
Black eyes mocked her. ‘You think it’s that easy? That desire is like a tap you can just turn on and off at will?’
‘I think you can try.’
‘But I don’t want to try,’ he said softly. ‘And what is more I don’t intend to.’
Their eyes met in a silent battle of wills, and Laura felt her mouth dry, hating the fact that his thinly veiled threat thrilled her instead of shocking her. ‘I think that … that you’d better leave now while I freshen up and then help get Alex properly unpacked,’ she said. But she couldn’t help noticing the pulse which beat so frantically at his throat as his gaze continued to rake over her in a look of unashamed sexual hunger.
Laura swallowed as she turned away and walked over to the window, blind to the beauty of the sapphire sea and cerulean sky outside, suddenly realising how difficult this whole situation was going to be. But you’re here as his employee, she reminded herself. So why not remind him of that? Put some space and some barriers between the two of you. Remind yourself that you are most certainly not equals.
She turned round and fixed the kind of smile to her lips which she gave to the Milmouth office workers when they came into the shop for their lunchtime sandwich. ‘So … what happens next in terms of me starting work?’
Constantine gave a slow smile. He knew exactly what she was doing—but he recognised that it was a kind of game she was playing. So let her be confronted by the reality of waiting on him and see how she liked that! ‘Tonight you and Alex will eat with Demetra, and she will familiarise you with our customs. She will tell you what she expects from you and answer any questions you might have,’
‘You mean … you … won’t be there?’ questioned Laura tentatively.
‘No, agape mou,’ he said softly. ‘I’m going out.’
‘Out?’ she echoed, aware that she sounded crestfallen. And possessive?
‘Indeed I am.’ His black eyes glittered. ‘As your new husband I should not, of course, have dreamt of abandoning you on your first evening. But this was the choice you made, Laura—and you must live with the consequences even if they are not to your liking.’
‘At least I can live with my conscience,’ she said tightly.
‘Well, bravo for you!’ he mocked, as he finished tucking in his silk shirt. ‘And tomorrow Alex will join me and my father for lunch. The child will meet his grandfather for the first time.’
‘That’s good.’ Laura stared at him, suddenly aware of just how little she really knew about him. ‘And … your mother?’
There was an infinitesimal pause before he spoke. ‘My mother died many years ago,’ he said.
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said Laura, interpreting his flat tone as grief, knowing from her own experience that the dead must always be acknowledged, even if the subject sometimes made you feel miserable. ‘What happened?’ she questioned gently.
‘She died of pneumonia a long time ago,’ he said, his face stony. ‘But my family history need not concern you, Laura.’
‘It’s Alex’s family history, too,’ she reminded him, taken aback by the sudden venom in his tone.
‘Then I will discuss such matters with Alex,’ he said. ‘And it’s pointless looking at me with those wounded grey eyes—because as my wife you could have legitimately shared such discussions. As it is there are plenty of other things to occupy you. So why don’t you run along and speak to Demetra.’
He paused deliberately, enjoying seeing the flush of colour to her cheeks, wanting to rub in the subservience she had insisted on. Wanting to wound her as she had somehow wounded him, though he couldn’t for the life of him work out how. ‘And then prepare to wait on my table,’ he finished cuttingly.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LAURA awoke to that confusing sensation of being in a strange room and not realising quite where she was—until she saw the stripes of bright sunlight shafting in through the bottom of the shutters and felt unaccustomed warm air wafting her body. She was in Greece—on the Karantinos island—and all night long she’d dreamt of Constantine, remembering the coldness in his voice when she’d tried to ask him about his mother, his dismissing her and her questions with a crisp arrogance clearly intended to drive home her reduced status in his household.
Some time during the night she must have kicked off the crisp cotton sheet, and now she was lying sprawled and exposed in a little nightdress which had ridden up over her hips during her very restless sleep. Which was surprising, given how tired she’d been following a delicious supper eaten with Demetra and her son in the cosy informality of the large kitchen.
Afterwards she and Alex had gone for a walk around the vast estate, with Demetra’s son, Stavros, acting as their guide. The young Greek student had pointed out all the bright constellations in the night sky and Alex had had the time of his life as a brand-new world of astronomy had opened up for him.
And then Laura sat bolt upright in bed. Alex! She hadn’t heard a peep out of him all night—when she’d tucked him and Blue Bear up in bed he’d barely been able to murmur goodnight before he was out for the count. What if he’d had nightmares? Got up and gone looking for her? Or wanted a drink and found himself lost in this vast and unknown house?
Grabbing her matching wrap, she hurried from her room and burst into Alex’s room—to find it completely empty. ‘Alex!’ she gasped.
‘He’s outside,’ came a voice from behind her, and she whirled around to find Constantine standing in the doorway of the room—an unfathomable look on his face as he studied her.
Aware that her hair was unbrushed and her eyes still full of sleep, Laura blinked. ‘Outside where?’
‘By the pool—with Demetra’s son.’
‘You mean you left my son—’
‘Our son,’ he corrected.
‘With someone who’s virtually a stranger—by a swimming pool when he can’t even swim that well!’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake—do you really think I would have placed him in any danger? I’ve known Stavros all his life, and he swims like an eel!’ he snapped. ‘I’ve been with them all morning, and apparently you all had dinner together last night. They’ve been getting along famously. If you hadn’t overslept you could have seen that for yourself.’ His expression darkened. ‘What I want to know is why he can’t damned well swim in the first place?’
‘Because