Mediterranean Millionaires

‘You must be kidding.’ Andreas laughed off that idea with disconcerting verve.

Her brows pleated, for she had assumed that he would be furious that something so private had been accidentally brought by his grandfather into the public domain. ‘You don’t mind?’

‘Not in the slightest,’ Andreas asserted silkily. ‘And when you get to meet the rest of my relatives this weekend you’ll understand why. I’m the golden boy because I tried to get a wedding ring on your finger and you’ll be—’

‘The horrible witch who doesn’t appreciate you!’ she slotted in, cringing at that new awareness.

‘Nonsense. My great-aunts will be very keen to talk me up. You are destined to spend the entire weekend listening to stories that represent me as Mr Wonderful—clean-living, kind to old ladies and animals and stupendous with children. I’ll bet you right now that nobody mentions my late father and his three divorces. He’s the family skeleton and would give the wrong impression.’

An involuntary gurgle of laughter escaped Hope and she relaxed. The past six weeks had been just about the happiest and busiest of her life. They had managed to move into Knightmere the previous month. Andreas had pulled strings, called in favours and brought in an interior design firm as well as a project manager to ensure that the wonderful old house had been made habitable in the least possible amount of time. A full quota of domestic staff had been hired and Hope had been left with little more to do than design bags.

That had proved to be just as well because pregnancy was slowing her down. Just occasionally her worries got on top of her. Had saying no to the proposal been the right thing to do? He had not mentioned the subject since, which suggested that he was quite content with things as they were. How could a guy so gorgeous cheerfully settle for a woman who was the shape of a very ripe peach? Was it guilt that was making Andreas so perfect? Guilt that he had misjudged her and left her alone for several months?

Perfect was not an exaggeration of his attitude towards her or his behaviour. He had begun working much shorter hours and cutting down on his trips abroad. He had attended all her pre-natal appointments with her. He had read a book on pregnancy with the result that he descended into pure panic if she experienced the slightest twinge of pain in any part of her body. When she’d got a cramp in her leg one evening he had wanted to take her to Casualty and when she’d refused he had sat up all night watching over her. He had also been pleasant to her friend, Vanessa, and had tolerated her receiving regular phone calls from Ben, who had been travelling round Europe for several weeks.

In addition, Andreas had been kind, affectionate, supportive and, as always, wonderfully entertaining. Being sexy came naturally to him so she didn’t count that. But although he could well have aspired to sainthood, not one word had Andreas said about love. So there it was, Hope thought heavily. She had to accept that she just did not have what it took to inspire Andreas with love. As long as there was no other woman out there who had the power that she lacked, she supposed she was all right. After all, she loved him and she was living with him and she would soon give birth to his child. Wasn’t it rather greedy to want more?

‘I have a couple of things I need to deal with at the office before we leave for Greece. I’ll meet you at the airport at six,’ Andreas murmured above her head, wishing he could take her to the office with him and then frowning in bemusement at the seriously uncool and embarrassing oddity of that last absentminded thought.

He assumed that he was always stressing about her because she was pregnant. She was always on his mind. When he was away from her, he found it particularly difficult to concentrate on work. Reading that gruesome book had been a serious error. He had not slept for a couple of nights after it and the worst thing of all had been the necessity of keeping quiet about the concerns that had been awakened by what he had read. He had dumped the book. He didn’t want her reading scary stuff of that nature.

‘Hope…?’ Andreas probed.

He tugged her to one side and bent over her. She was fast asleep. He listened to hear her breathing just in case it didn’t sound normal. With great care he settled her down on the pillows. He would warn the housekeeper to check on her.

Hope was really annoyed when she realised that she had drifted off and missed Andreas’s departure. Having completed her packing the day before, she donned the lilac tunic and cropped trousers she had decided to travel in. Andreas phoned an hour later.

‘Make sure you eat some lunch,’ he instructed.

‘Stop fussing…’ She walked over to the window of the room that she used as a design studio. It overlooked the courtyard where a car was pulling up. It was a Porsche and she grinned when she saw a familiar tousled blond head emerging from the driver’s seat. ‘Oh, my goodness, Ben’s here…sorry, I have to go!’ she told Andreas in a rush.

In his London office, Andreas stared fixedly down at the phone in his hand. She had been so overjoyed to see Campbell she had ended the call. He endeavoured to return his attention to the report on his desk. Campbell had been out of the country for weeks. Hope seemed to think he simply enjoyed travel but Andreas suspected that Ben had gone abroad in an effort to come to terms with losing Hope. Now Campbell was back and what was his first action? He went to see Hope in the middle of the day when he knew he was most likely to find her at home and on her own.

Andreas breathed in deep but the sick sense of rage threatening him did not abate. He leapt upright. Exactly what was he going to do? Go home. He rang his helicopter pilot and told him he needed to get there as soon as possible. Would it look odd if he just arrived back at Knightmere? He raked an uneasy hand through his cropped black hair. Hope might think he didn’t trust her. He did trust her, he trusted her absolutely. But how could he possibly trust Ben Campbell?

Campbell might try to make a move on Hope. A guy didn’t get over losing a woman like Hope that easily. Andreas knew that from painful personal experience. He had dumped Hope and lived in hell for endless weeks that were a blur of alcohol and misery. He did not want to go through that again ever. If Campbell attempted to lure Hope back to him, he was going to get a fight he would never forget.

On the top of the Nicolaidis building, Andreas boarded the helicopter. He felt out of control. That unnerved him. But he was quick to assure himself that there was no way he would lose his temper and get physical with Campbell. Hope would not like that and he was determined not to do or indeed say anything that might distress her. Possibly he should tell her how her seeing Campbell made him feel. He felt angry. He felt jealous. He felt threatened. Of course, he felt threatened! He was on like…continual probation. She wouldn’t marry him. The one thing that would give him a sense of security, she denied him and she would not tell him why.

Maybe he should make a special effort to explain just how important she was to him. That was something he had always been careful to keep to himself, but now he was afraid that he had kept quiet for too long and missed his chance. She was very, very important to his peace of mind. He could not bear the idea that anything might ever harm her. He thought he was incredibly lucky to have got a second chance with her. Was that love? How was he supposed to know what love was? Before he had met her, he had never been in love. He was morosely convinced that Campbell wouldn’t hang back from saying he loved her.

Hope tensed when she saw the helicopter coming in to land. Why had Andreas changed his plans and returned to the house? Was it because he was unhappy about Ben coming to visit? She really hoped it wasn’t that.

‘Andreas…’ she murmured as he strode into the drawing room, his lean, strong face shuttered and taut. ‘Did you forget something?’

‘Ne…yes,’ he breathed in Greek, his eyes smouldering gold as his expressive mouth curved into a smile that was purely for her.

‘Let me introduce you to our visitors,’ Hope said warmly.

Visitors in the plural? Disconcerted, Andreas turned his head and saw to his surprise that Ben had his arm wrapped round a tiny exquisite brunette. A perceptible air of intimacy clung to the other couple.

‘Of course, you know Ben…this is Chantal,’ Hope informed him.

Andreas extended a hand to Ben and kissed the brunette on both cheeks French style.

‘I’m afraid we have to make tracks,’ Ben told them. ‘My mother’s expecting us this afternoon.’

Having watched them drive away, Andreas closed a hand tightly over Hope’s. ‘I was really scared that Campbell was back to make a play for you,’ he admitted half under his breath.

Hope dealt him a startled glance. ‘Andreas…at this moment, I’m the size of a medium-sized house,’ she pointed out gently. ‘I don’t think there’s much risk of any guy making a play for me right now.’

‘I’ve had a problem handling your friendship with him.’ Dulled colour scored his high cheekbones. ‘If you hadn’t been pregnant, you’d probably still be with him—’

‘No, slow up there!’ Hope inserted in dismay. ‘As far as I’m concerned I’m with you by choice and our baby has very little to do with it.’

‘But you had something good going with Campbell—’

‘I liked him very much but he’s not you and he was never going to be.’

Encouraged by that statement, Andreas bit the proverbial bullet. ‘I’ve been jealous as hell—’

Hope looked up at him in amazement. ‘But why? There’s no need. I had only started seeing Ben when I found out I was expecting. It’s not as if I slept with him or anything like that!’

The silence sizzled.

‘You…didn’t sleep with him?’ Andreas prompted fiercely. ‘Have you any idea how much knowing that means to me?’

‘If you had asked, I would never have lied. You didn’t ask.’

Andreas flexed lean brown fingers, shrugged broad shoulders, compressed his beautiful mouth and nodded into the bargain. It took all those separate gestures to express the intensity of his response. ‘It always meant a lot to me that I had been your only lover—’

‘You never said.’

‘I took you for granted. You were there. Life was good and then…pow! It’s gone,’ he breathed in a roughened undertone, pulling her close as though to combat that unhappy memory.

‘Elyssa,’ she sighed.

‘Her lies tore me apart. I have never been so wretched in all my life. I didn’t understand what you meant to me until you were gone,’ Andreas confessed raggedly above her head, his strong arms tightening expressively round her. ‘Then I couldn’t admit to myself that I hated my life without you in it.’

‘Honestly?’ Her head came up, turquoise eyes focusing on him.

‘Honestly.’

‘But what about all the women you were seen about with?’

Andreas grimaced. ‘Window dressing.’

Hope snatched in a stark breath. ‘Did you undress any of the windows?’