His Love-Child: The Greek Tycoon's Love-Child / The Spaniard's Love-Child / The Millionaire's Love-Child

CHAPTER NINE

‘NO,’ WILLOW said, and stopped in the middle of the plush boutique. ‘I am not trying on another thing,’ she stated emphatically. She was hot, she was sweaty, and she was fed up.

Theo had driven them all into Athens. At Judy’s suggestion it had been arranged that she would take Stephen to look for toys and to buy a wedding present for his mum and dad. Stephen had quite happily gone off with his grandmother and Willow had been left with Theo with Judy’s last instruction ringing in her ears. ‘Take her shopping, Theo, and make sure she has something fabulous to wear; I feel a party coming on.’

Willow glanced across at him. He was lounging on a velvet sofa looking perfectly relaxed. Obviously he was used to buying women clothes, she thought dryly. Even the sales lady was drooling over him as he instructed her on what garments his fiancée should try on with all the arrogance of some Eastern potentate decorating his favourite choice from his harem.

Willow felt like a clothes hanger, and the last gown he had picked was the final straw. She had had enough. Elegant suits, designer casuals, three evening gowns—she was sick to death of taking her clothes on and off, and she had no intention of buying any of them.

Marching over to where Theo sat, she frowned angrily down at him. ‘I don’t know about you, but I am leaving,’ she snapped. ‘And I am not buying anything here—they are over-priced and pretty useless. So, if you want some woman to try on that green slip—’ she gestured wildly with her hand to the slither of silk that the assistant was holding ‘—then ask her, I am sure she will oblige for you,’ she said snidely.

Leaping to his feet, Theo smiled and said something in Greek to the sales lady. Gripping Willow’s arm, he swung her around to face him, his back to the rest of the shop.

‘As my wife you have a position to uphold,’ he stated, his cool gaze narrowing on her flushed and furious face. ‘And beautiful though you are, Willow, your dress sense leaves a lot to be desired. Didn’t you know the hippy look went out over forty years ago?’ he prompted sarcastically.

For some inexplicable reason his words hurt, and she fought hard not to let her feelings show. ‘Maybe that is true in your world of designer clothes and the latest fashion fad, but not in mine,’ she said flatly. ‘Cheap and cheerful is much more practical.’ She stiffened her shoulders, her blue eyes boldly meeting his. He was an insensitive jerk; why should she care about a word he said? ‘And once more I am not going to marry you!’ she said defiantly.

Theo’s jaw clenched. He saw the flicker of hurt in her expressive eyes and he felt like the world’s worst heel. Willow was a proud, capable woman who had made a success of her life with no help from anyone, and certainly not him. She had given birth to his son when she was still a teenager with only a stranger to help her. All this while still grieving for her mother and grandmother at the same time, as he had learned to his horror this morning. A guilty conscience had turned his stomach and torn at his heart ever since. Even his own mother had lashed into him when she had found out, and he didn’t blame her.

He was a man who had never wanted for anything of monetary value in his life, but he was sure Willow had not had the same advantage eight years ago and he was the only one to blame.

‘Okay, leave the green,’ he instructed. ‘But you are taking the rest; I insist. And unless you want to tell Stephen that you lied this morning and therefore break his heart, you will marry me on Thursday.’

His eyes narrowed on her face, his tone determined. She felt his fingers flexing on her arm, and she didn’t want to feel anything. Her eyes lifted to his, the silence between them charged. Willow could feel it in every nerve in her body, a curious pulsing awareness; it was the ultimate moment of truth. Could she break her son’s heart, or risk her own?

She swallowed hard, her black lashes flickering down to hide the expression in her eyes. There was only one answer she could give him… ‘Yes, Thursday it is,’ she said finally, resigned to the inevitable.

‘Good.’ His face immediately altered, his eyes smiling down at her. ‘I knew you would eventually see sense,’ and he let go of her to pay for the purchases.

If he wanted to waste his money, let him. It was all he had to give a woman anyway, Willow thought bitterly, and walked out into the sunlight. That and great sex, an imp of devilment whispered in her brain just as a strong hand closed around her arm and stopped her in her tracks…

‘I have had just about as much as I can take for one day,’ Theo snarled. ‘I am sorry if I upset you, but don’t you ever walk out on me again.’

‘Upset? I’m not upset.’ Her finely arched brows rose in query. ‘Why would I be? After all, it is not every day a girl gets relocated to the lap of luxury in Greece, showered in designer clothes and gets a rich husband thrown in,’ she said with biting sarcasm.

‘Well, I damn well am.’ Theo swore, losing his superb control. Spinning her around, he trapped her against the building with his hands on the wall either side of her head. ‘If you want to make me feel guilty, then consider it done. How the hell did you think I felt this morning when I discovered, not only had I got you pregnant, but that an ambulance driver delivered our son? And, worse still, that you were totally on your own, having lost both your mother and your grandmother. I was disgusted.’

‘So I noticed,’ Willow cut in bitterly.

‘Not with you, with myself,’ Theo declared adamantly. ‘My own mother was ashamed of me when she discovered how young and alone you were and tore into me as she has never done since I was a child.’

‘I did wonder why she was yelling at you. Why didn’t you just tell her the truth? It was only a one-night stand and after I left you,’ Willow snapped back.

‘I would never discredit the mother of my son in such a way,’ he said between gritted teeth. ‘And you were never just a one-night stand to me, whatever you may think. I asked you to stay with me, remember.’

‘You said so the other night,’ she reminded him bluntly.

‘Theos! Must you question every damn thing I say?’ Theo struggled to retain his temper. ‘I can’t do right for doing wrong where you are concerned. The only reason I bought you a few clothes was because I thought you might enjoy them and because it was the least I could do.’ He had thought she would be delighted with a new wardrobe of clothes; every other woman he had ever known would have been all over him like a rash. But Willow was not like any other woman. Now his action just seemed crass, a sop to his conscience, and an insult to Willow.

Wide-eyed, she stared up at him, shocked by his outburst, and stunned that he had actually admitted to feelings of guilt. Then she gave a little mocking laugh. ‘Thanks, I think.’

His eyes became bleak with bitterness. ‘With hindsight I should have tried harder to keep in touch with you, but you lied to me and didn’t give me the opportunity. When you knew you were pregnant with my child, one trip to an old address was not much of a search.’

It was all her fault again… She might have guessed his guilty feelings would not last long, and they had almost taken her in.

‘I made more than one attempt,’ she said, her own temper rising. ‘Seven months pregnant, I boarded the train for London with the address of your London office in my pocket. In the magazine I bought to read on the journey were the pictures of your wedding to Dianne. I got off at the next stop and went home. Is that good enough for you?’ She wanted the swine to feel guilty; it was the only way she could lash out at him. He had blocked all her other avenues of escape. ‘Or maybe I should have followed you on your honeymoon,’ she gibed.

For an interminable moment Theo just stood there regarding her in total silence, his face an inscrutable mask. ‘No, and I am sorry you had to find out that way,’ he finally said quietly. ‘Obviously talking about the past is a futile exercise. It is the future we have to look forward to.’ With a quick dip of his dark head, his mouth covered hers and he kissed her. She couldn’t believe it, but a long moment later when he raised his head and allowed her to breathe again she was too shaken to care.

How did he do that? she asked herself again. He managed to reduce her to a quivering mass of jelly with one kiss. And in the middle of the day on a crowded pavement where the world and his wife could watch, she realised with dawning embarrassment. Lifting her eyes, she stared up into his darkly handsome face. ‘What was that for?’ she asked dazedly.

‘To shut you up,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘You infuriating madam. I have not argued in the street since I was a schoolboy, and I’ve had enough guilt for one day. I am declaring a truce.’ And tucking her arm in his, he set off along the street.

Five minutes later, when Theo stopped outside a very elegant black door with the name in gold lettering, she pulled her hand from his arm. ‘Oh, no! Not more shopping.’

He slid an arm around her shoulder and a slow smile curved his wide, sensual mouth as she looked stubbornly up at him. ‘Humour me, Willow. Last stop, I promise, and then we can meet the others for lunch.’

A moment later as Theo ushered her through the door, and into the shop, it was with a grim lack of humour that she looked around and saw it was a jeweller’s.

‘As my fiancée you must wear my ring.’ She opened her mouth to object but he pressed a finger over her lips. ‘And don’t argue—truce, remember?’

So far he had got all his own way. His finger was still on her mouth and, unless she could get over this terrible disability of losing her mind whenever he touched her, he was likely to continue doing so.

But she got her revenge when it came to choosing the ring. Forced into agreeing to marry him, and still smarting from his crack about her dress sense, she picked the biggest platinum-mounted solitaire blue diamond the jeweller could provide. To add to the ostentatious engagement ring she chose an equally ostentatious diamond-studded platinum wedding band.

Theo gave her a curious look. ‘Are you sure they are what you want?’

‘Certainly.’ She tilted her head to look up at him, a patently false smile twisting her luscious lips. ‘As the wife of a filthy rich man, you said I have to look the part. And I just love them,’ she gushed, ‘darling.’ She thought he would be furious but to her astonishment his lips curved in an achingly familiar crooked smile.

‘Touché, darling,’ he drawled with rueful amusement, and bought the rings.

Two days later Stephen sat on her bed and watched her dress. ‘I wish I was going to the party.’

‘When you are a bit older, but tonight you have to be a good boy for Marta and do as she says. Right?’

‘Right,’ he agreed.

Willow grinned down at her son. ‘Well, what do you think, Stephen? Will I do?’ And with a shaky hand she smoothed down the strapless, long slim-fitting sheath of wild blue silk she had chosen from the clothes Theo had insisted on buying for her. She had pinned her long black hair on top of her head, and the severity of the style emphasised the perfect outline of her face and the white swan-like elegance of her neck. Her make-up was light as usual: moisturiser, lip gloss and a touch of mascara. On her feet she wore high-heeled sandals that matched the dress perfectly. She had painted her nails a light pink and she had never felt so dressed up in her life, or so nervous.

‘You look beautiful, Mum.’

‘And I second that,’ Theo said.

She hadn’t heard him enter, and she lifted anxious dark eyes to his. The full impact of him attired in sophisticated dinner clothes sent every one of her senses haywire.

His hooded gaze roamed over her with studied masculine appraisal, and the eyes he lifted to hers were glittering with a hot possessiveness that she could not fail to recognise. It hit her with the force of a lightning bolt. She had agreed to marry this man, and tonight was their engagement party. She must be crazy, and as he walked towards her she felt panic rising inside her. ‘Is it time to go?’

His firm lips curved in a slow, sexy smile. ‘Some might say well past time, given we have a son,’ he drawled, and took her trembling hand in his. Turning to Stephen, he added, ‘Run along to your room. Marta is waiting, and she has a surprise for you.’