The Greek's Secret Son

Tia gazed at Anatole across the damask tablecloth, over the candlelight between them.

‘This is the most wonderful holiday I could ever have imagined!’ she breathed.

Adoration was obvious in her eyes—for how could it not be? How could she not reveal all that she felt for this wonderful, incredible man who had brought her here? Emotion swelled within her like a billowing wave, almost overpowering her.

Anatole’s dark eyes lingered on her lovely face. A warm, honeyed tan had turned her skin to gold, and her hair was even paler now from the sun’s rays. He felt desire cream within him. How good she was for him, and how good he felt about her...about having her in his life.

‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘have you ever been to Paris?’

Tia shook her head.

Anatole’s smile deepened. ‘Well, I have to go there on business. You’ll love it!’

It felt good to know that he would be the first man to show her the City of Light. Just as it had felt good to take her on this cruise, to see her enjoy the luxury of his lifestyle. Good to see her eyes widen, her intake of breath—good to bestow his largesse upon her, for she was so appreciative of it.

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