Greek Affairs: Claiming His Child: The Greek's Million-Dollar Baby Bargain / The Greek Millionaire's Secret Child / The Greek's Long-Lost Son

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 Nikki can judge,’ said Ari.

Nikos had, to Ann’s relief, returned to the camp, and was idly flicking through a business magazine. Now he looked up, and got to his feet. He strolled across the sand, and Ann did not like to see the way his legs seemed so long in his chinos, or the way his T-shirt moulded to his powerful torso.

Solemnly he inspected both sand holes. ‘Ann’s is wider, but Ari’s is deeper,’ he pronounced.

‘I win!’ shouted Ari excitedly. He turned to his aunt. ‘You have to dig them the deepest,’ he explained. He dropped his spade to the sand. ‘Can we swim now, Uncle Nikki—can we?’

He’d spoken in Greek, and Ann could not understand him. Nikos glanced at Ann. ‘Well, does your English sang froid run to a dip in the Aegean at this time of year?’ he enquired laconically.

She gave a shrug. ‘I’m happy to go in with Ari,’ she said.

As well as not liking the way his legs seemed so long, or his torso so powerful, she also did not like the way he was looking at her. A veiled look that did things to her breathing she did not want it to.

‘Good,’ he said, and then he said something to Ari which Ann assumed was assent.

She had no objection to taking Ari into the water, however cold it might be. It would get her away from Nikos. He could sit in the sun and read his magazine and welcome. But as she scrambled to her feet, dusting sand off her knees and hands, she froze. Nikos, it seemed, was intending to go in the sea as well.

He was stripping off. Before her frozen eyes, he proceeded to divest himself of his chinos and polo shirt down to bare skin.

She stared, open-mouthed.

His body was fantastic. And there was so much of it! The golden shoulders were just as broad as she’d always known they’d be, his back long and smooth, his legs longer and not smooth—fuzzed with a sheen of dark hair over taut muscles that was echoed in the narrow arrowing above the waistband of his hip-hugging bathing trunks. Whether he worked out or it just came naturally, his abdominal muscles were unblemished by an ounce of fat, and the smooth, olive-hued pectorals were likewise perfect.

As he finished undressing, he glanced at Ann. For a moment his eyes stayed veiled, as if observing her reaction. Then, with an indolent, satisfied smile, he reached out one long index finger under her chin and closed her mouth.

‘Your turn,’ he invited softly. ‘Or should I say—my turn?’

He stood, casually poised, with all the natural grace of a Greek statue but with absolutely none of its Platonic virtues, and waited for her to do likewise and disrobe—so he could watch her the way she had watched him.

As she stood stiff and immobile, he gave her a taunting smile.

‘Don’t worry, I’ve checked it out already. You pass muster.’

She started, confused. He enlightened her. ‘By the pool. You were sunbathing.’

Colour mounted in her cheek as the penny dropped and subconscious memory flooded back. ‘You touched me!’ she accused, outraged. God, she thought she’d been dreaming, and all along the hand that she’d imagined stroking over her back had been real. Had been his. Eyes flashing with anger she dropped down to help Ari inflate his armbands and take his T-shirt off.

She heard a mocking laugh, lightly running feet, and then, her eyes automatically flying upwards, she saw Nikos Theakis launching itself into the azure water, splashing loudly in the quietness all around them. As he headed out to sea with long, powerful strokes, Ann dragged her eyes away. Grimly, she helped Ari get ready for swimming.

‘You have to come in too!’ said Ari.

‘After lunch,’ she said, sliding his armbands on and checking their fit. ‘Anyway, I take ages changing, and Uncle Nikki is already in the water. I’ll come and watch you both.’

Accepting this compromise, Ari hammered over the sand to the water’s edge, shouting enthusiastically in Greek to the figure cutting through the water. Watching Ari plunge in, and his uncle halt his swimming to meet him, Ann did her best to ignore the way the sunlight played on the hard, lean torso, glistening with water, and on the sleek, slicked back hair and thick, sea-wet eyelashes.

Oh, God, he really is gorgeous to look at …