One Night: Blissful Seduction: The Secret His Mistress Carried / Secrets, Lies & Lullabies / To Sin with the Tycoon

Gio reappeared in the bathroom doorway, lean, strong face taut. ‘Damon thought it best that your cousin, her children and Irene and Theo leave immediately for the church. You’re travelling with Leandros and me.’

Billie turned from the mirror. ‘But you and your best man are supposed to arrive first.’

‘You can wait in the church porch for ten minutes, koukla mou,’ Gio pointed out, lustrous dark eyes gleaming with sudden amusement. ‘Why do you take all these silly little rules so seriously?’

Billie went pink and lifted her chin. ‘I assume all brides do the same.’

Gio closed a hand over hers and pulled her towards the lift, sweeping her off her feet before she could reach the pavement and depositing her in a vast tumbling heap of lace and chiffon into the stretch limousine waiting by the kerb.

Billie forced a smile when Leandros Conistis looked at them both in frank astonishment. The heat of almost unbearable embarrassment engulfed her in a burning tide because she had never forgotten her one and only meeting with Gio’s best friend and the incredulous look on his face that evening when he had realised that she had never heard of Canaletto.

Leandros tossed a handkerchief at Gio. ‘You have lipstick on your face.’

Billie’s mortification did not abate at that aside; indeed it worsened. Now the other man would think that she was not only stupid but also a slut with no idea of how to behave like a dignified bride. Even though she knew she was being ridiculously oversensitive, she could not overcome her attack of self-consciousness. Dee helped her climb out of the limousine and ushered her into the porch where she admired the pearl set, teased her cousin about what she saw as Gio’s wildly romantic gesture at showing up at the apartment before the wedding and then fussed with the skirts of Billie’s gown before checking that her daughter, Jade, was still carrying her basket and flowers and Davis, his lucky horseshoe.

Walking down the aisle of the half-empty church some minutes later, her hand resting lightly on her cousin’s arm, Billie was earnestly instructing herself that she was not living a fairy tale and striving not to react to the lean dark charisma of Gio’s sheer beauty as he looked down the aisle, brilliant dark eyes glimmering gold.

‘This is your dream,’ Dee whispered unhelpfully at that exact same moment. ‘Stop fretting...enjoy your moment in the sun.’

Billie recalled the vanishing act that Gio had pulled in Yorkshire, her own frustrated rage, and breathed in deep. So, he wasn’t straightforward, he was complex, secretive and arrogant, but as she focused on his tall, dark, powerful figure at the altar her heart sang its own deeply revealing signature tune. That was when she recognised and accepted the truth—the truth that vanity had made her deny. Gio was the man she loved, very probably would always be the man she loved, regardless of what he did in the future, because she was very steady in her affections.

Acknowledging the strength of her feelings was like breaking free of a constricting band round her chest. She had never got over Gio and now he was back and they had a child and she was about to become his wife. Instead of expecting, indeed almost inviting the roof to fall in on her, wasn’t it time she went for a little positive thinking? And it was at that instant of sunny, optimistic thought with her emotions on a high that her eyes zeroed in on the blue-eyed blonde keenly studying her two pews back from the front. Her heart and her body froze in concert and even her feet became reluctant to do her bidding. Dee had to use momentum to move Billie on down the aisle.

Calisto was a guest at their very small wedding. Billie was in shock. What did Calisto’s presence today of all days mean? Her hand trembled as Gio slid the ring onto her wedding finger. Her skin was clammy with shock, her knees in a rigid hold. In her mind’s eye she was seeing not the priest but Calisto, her tiny proportions sheathed in a killer-blue fitted dress and lace jacket, a jaunty little feather confection adorning her head, waterfall-straight platinum-pale hair falling to her shoulders, framing a face of such perfection that angels would weep to look at it. In print she had been a beauty; in the flesh she was downright dazzling, setting a standard that Billie could never hope to reach. A deep chill spread through Billie like an unexpected frost on a summer day.

‘What’s your ex-wife doing here?’ Billie whispered shakily on the church steps as the society photographer and his assistant got them to pose with linked hands.

Gio massaged the tender skin of her wrist with his thumbs, sending a delicious little thrill of awareness trickling through her tense body. ‘Haven’t a clue, but it wouldn’t have been polite to ask her to leave.’

‘Perhaps not.’ Billie was in two minds about what being polite entailed in such circumstances. ‘But how did she know about the wedding?’

Gio sent her a frowning glance. ‘Naturally I told her about it. It would’ve been bad manners to let her find out from anyone else. Cal probably thinks that showing up is the socially “hip” thing to do. She likes to be “hip”,’ he completed drily.

Billie was sharply disconcerted by the news that Gio was still on good enough terms with his former wife to have automatically informed her of his remarriage. The comfortable way he referred to Calisto with the fond diminutive ‘Cal’ bothered her even more although she was quick to question her own reaction. Not all ex-wives and husbands loathed each other and it was perfectly possible that Calisto had turned up simply out of curiosity. And who could blame her for that? Gio and Calisto had only been divorced for a couple of months at most. She glanced across to where Calisto stood in animated conversation with Leandros and two other Greek friends.

‘She’s very friendly with everyone,’ Billie remarked gingerly, quite frankly envying the blonde’s confident assumption of her welcome. Calisto evidently didn’t feel the slightest bit uncomfortable attending her ex-husband’s wedding and Billie struggled to be equally accepting of the blonde’s presence.

‘Cal is Leandros’ first cousin,’ Gio advanced. ‘And one of my lawyers is her stepbrother. She probably knows virtually everybody here.’

Dismay at those previously unknown close connections assailed Billie and her unease only increased when she saw Calisto climb with a tinkling girlish giggle into a limo with the three men. A wedding breakfast was being served at an exclusive London hotel. She seriously hoped Calisto wasn’t going to push her way in there as well. It was a hope destined to disappointment, however, because the first person Billie saw in the foyer was Calisto, beaming smile all over her perfect face as she surged forward to kiss Gio on both cheeks and beg sweetly for an introduction to Billie.

‘I’ve already met your son...what a little darling!’ Calisto gushed, all dimples and flapping fake lashes. ‘And what a clever, clever girl you are to have brought such a little angel into the world.’

Gio laughed softly. ‘Theo’s cute, isn’t he?’

‘Super cute,’ Calisto purred in agreement, flexing manicured scarlet fingertips on Billie’s arm to prevent her from moving away.

‘Excuse us for a moment,’ Dee interrupted in an undertone. ‘Billie, you need your veil fixed. It’s hanging by a thread.’

Relieved to have an excuse to escape, Billie followed her cousin to the other side of the foyer. She angled her head back to assist Dee’s efforts to anchor her veil and she was in the perfect position to catch Dee’s hissed enquiry, ‘Who on earth is the pushy blonde?’

As Billie spun to fill in the details Dee’s eyes got rounder and rounder. ‘She’s got a heck of a nerve coming today!’ she commented angrily. ‘No bride wants her predecessor as a guest!’

Billie coloured. ‘I don’t want to make a fuss about it when everybody else is quite happy.’

‘By everybody else, you mean Gio,’ Dee interpreted. ‘She’s spoiling your day and, like most men, he’s just taking the easy way out by doing nothing!’

‘He hates bitchiness and catfights. I’m not going to say anything,’ Billie intoned as if she were mouthing a soothing mantra she badly needed to absorb. ‘If Calisto can handle me then I can handle her.’

‘Whatever you think,’ Dee trilled, clearly unimpressed. ‘But I wouldn’t stand her being here like the spectre at the feast for longer than ten seconds.’

Billie greeted the other guests as they arrived with quiet poise. Several of Gio’s British business colleagues were attending as well as his lawyers and a large group of London-based Greeks. She was surprised that he had not invited any of his family to attend their wedding and worried that they might have refused to attend because they disapproved of Gio marrying a woman from so ordinary a background.

She had met Gio’s lawyers in Yorkshire when they had called at the hotel to present her with the pre-nuptial agreement. They had advised her to take independent advice before she signed but Billie really hadn’t had the time to consult anyone, being far too busy packing up the life she had lived for two years and discarding what she no longer required. In any case, Gio was anything but mean when it came to money and, regardless of what might happen between them in the future, she didn’t feel she needed documentary proof that he would always be fair. He had once mentioned that his father had been shamefully stingy in his monetary dealings with his mother after they had divorced and she was convinced he would never be guilty of committing the same sin.

As they ran out of guests to greet in the reception area beside the dining room, Billie saw Gio and Leandros approach Calisto. She watched that perfect face freeze and her scarlet-painted mouth open to deliver an obviously animated response before Billie forced herself to turn away and head for the cloakroom to freshen up. There was no denying that Calisto had cast a cloud over the day. Unfortunately, Calisto was Gio’s ex and still part of his social circle and Billie was stuck with that reality. Making heavy weather of the fact wasn’t going to change anything.

Billie was engaged in renewing her lipstick when the door slammed behind a new arrival and high heels smacked noisily across the tiles. Calisto appeared in the mirror beside Billie like the evil fairy. ‘Don’t waste your time feeling smug that Gio’s asked me to leave. He’s had long enough to regret our divorce and naturally he’s upset at having to marry you to get his son and even more upset to see you and I together...well, there is no comparison, is there?’ Calisto pointed out, lifting her chin to examine her perfect reflection with open admiration.

Billie turned away from the mirror, lifting her own chin in fear that she might have a slight suggestion of a double chin when she held her head at some angles and that was a humiliation she could not have borne in Calisto’s presence. ‘Gio divorced you?’

‘Only because I wouldn’t give him a baby,’ Calisto told her cheerfully. ‘But now that he’s got one...thank you so much for taking care of that problem for me. He can have me and his precious son and heir. You’ve given us a textbook solution to our dilemma.’

‘What on earth are you trying to say?’ Billie asked in genuine astonishment.

‘That triangles never work and it won’t be long before Gio takes his son off you and reclaims me as his wife,’ Calisto trilled with satisfaction. ‘You were his mistress and I’m afraid the background of his life is where a woman like you belongs.’

‘A woman like me?’ Billie prompted, her green eyes taking on a dangerous sparkle.

‘A tart with a heart,’ Calisto quipped, rolling her eyes. ‘And let’s not forget the pantomime big boobs and bum. But you were never destined to be a Letsos and your reign as one will be painfully short.’

Billie shook her head in silent wonderment as she walked to the door. How could Gio have married such a spiteful shrew? In comparison with Calisto, she was unquestionably rounder in certain areas but she was determined not to get drawn into a childish spat with the other woman. She was less sanguine, however, concerning Calisto’s claims about Theo and why Gio had married her.

Was it possible that Gio had only married Billie to gain equal rights to his son? It was simply another angle to Gio’s insistence that they marry to give Theo his birthright. Obviously Gio would benefit as well from the formal acknowledgement of his role as Theo’s father. And was it true that Gio had divorced Calisto because she wouldn’t give him a child? Stamping down on further conjecture about Calisto, Billie reminded herself comfortingly that Gio had asked his ex-wife to leave their wedding.

Feeling hot, flushed and distinctly out of sorts, Billie returned to the elegant function room and collected Theo from his nanny to give him a cuddle. While her son nestled close, she was relieved to see Gio and Leandros chatting away to Dee.

‘She’s pleasant,’ Gio conceded later when they were all seated for the wedding breakfast. ‘But that doesn’t mean that I think she’s a fit person for you to have as a friend.’

‘Try to be less judgemental. If you hadn’t seen that report, you wouldn’t have known about her past,’ Billie pointed out. ‘And we’ve all made mistakes...you married Calypso.’

‘Calisto,’ Gio corrected. ‘She’s gone—’

‘Good.’ Lashes screening her gaze, Billie sipped her champagne.

‘It wasn’t appropriate for her to stay.’

‘Why did you divorce her?’ she heard herself ask.

‘We were incompatible,’ Gio fielded without hesitation.

‘That’s not telling me any—’ Billie began heatedly as Gio lifted a hand and closed it into her curls to turn her back to him.

She clashed with smouldering dark golden eyes and a writhing inferno of heat rushed up inside her in response. Her heart stuttered, her breath shortened in her throat. The tip of his tongue traced the curve of her lower lip and the peaks of her full breasts stiffened and strained below her boned bodice.

‘Se thelo...I want you,’ Gio growled soft and low, ferocious tension etched in every taut athletic line of his lean, powerful body.

‘So much,’ she echoed in breathless agreement, her tummy performing a somersault as he ravaged her mouth in an electrifyingly passionate kiss.

As Leandros signalled to indicate his readiness to make a short speech and dealt him a highly amused smile, Gio set Billie back from him, shrewd eyes searching her bemused face. She was like a breath of fresh air in his life. Was that why she unsettled him? Tempted him into engaging in the kind of PDA he had never before indulged in? But then what other woman would have tolerated Calisto’s appearance without throwing a big scene?

He watched Billie rise from her seat without hesitation to take Theo, who was stretching his arms out to her from a nearby table. Clearly tired and fed up, his son whimpered and clung to his mother like a little limpet before burying his head sleepily against her shoulder. Gio’s rarely touched conscience was pierced by the sight when he thought of the iniquitous pre-nuptial agreement he had had drawn up to ensnare Billie. She was such an innocent. He had guessed that she wouldn’t bother to read the terms, never mind the small print. Knowing she didn’t give a damn about his money, he had taken ruthless advantage of her trusting nature....regardless of his awareness of how much she loved their son.

Of course, she need never know about the terms of the pre-nup, Gio reasoned, reckoning that he didn’t want that coming back to haunt him at some inopportune time in the future. Billie would be shocked. Billie, who had always tried to see him as a nicer, kinder person than he could ever be, would for ever lose her rose-tinted view of him. He frowned, deciding that he would lose her copy of that document in a safe somewhere...

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE HELICOPTER LANDED in a clearing lit by torches on the island of Letsos.

‘So, this is the island where you were born. Does it belong to you?’ Billie remarked as Gio lifted her down to the ground and then went back to take Theo and assist the nanny in her descent.

‘It still belongs to my grandfather, Theo’s namesake. I imagine if it had ever passed to my father, it would’ve been sold long ago,’ he opined drily. ‘He sold everything that wasn’t nailed down long before he died.’

‘Did your family name the island after themselves?’ she asked curiously.

‘No, I believe my ancestors stole the name and began using it several generations back after a family dispute split them into two factions,’ he explained, ushering her into the four-wheel-drive vehicle.

‘I’m looking forward to meeting your family,’ Billie lied because she felt she had to lie out of politeness.

While Billie was undeniably curious, she was also very apprehensive about the sort of reception she could expect to receive from Gio’s wealthy relatives. In her own opinion she had so many strikes against her: the speed of their marriage, Theo’s birth out of wedlock, never mind the reality that she was a complete stranger and a foreigner without either fancy lineage or cash. She was convinced that those facts would ensure that she was viewed with extreme suspicion and possibly even hostility.

‘You’ll meet them all tomorrow,’ Gio told her calmly.

‘But I assumed I’d be meeting them now...tonight,’ she said tensely.

‘It’s been a very long day and we’re not staying at the main house tonight. We’ll introduce them to Theo in the morning.’ Gio smoothed a hand down over Theo’s back as his son squeezed out a cross little mutter as he secured him in a car seat. ‘The sooner he’s in bed, the better. Irene, you’ll have the help of my old nursemaid tonight because I know you’re tired. We’re leaving Irene and Theo at Agata’s house.’

‘Leaving...Theo?’ Billie parroted in dismay.

‘Relax. It’s not as though we’re abandoning him on a park bench,’ Gio censured with quiet amusement, dark eyes skimming her anxious face. ‘We’re spending our wedding night at the beach house. We’ll pick up Theo in the morning before we go and meet the family. Agata will revel in being the first islander to get to know my son.’

When they drew up at Agata’s house, Billie soon appreciated that Gio had not exaggerated because Theo’s arrival was the source of much excitement and pleasure. Agata was middle-aged and rotund. She greeted Gio with overflowing affection and took hold of his son with a blissful smile while contriving simultaneously to offer Irene a warm welcome and the promise of a comfortable bed in her guest room.

Gio swept Billie back into the car. The road was soon travelling sharply downhill and the car finally stopped at the mouth of a sandy path. Their driver, a strapping youth, grabbed the heavy cases and trudged down the path, leaving them to follow.

‘Watch your step. It’s a steep track,’ Gio warned, clamping a strong arm to her slender spine to steady her as her heels sank into the sandy surface.

‘I’d never have worn these shoes if I’d realised we were going to a beach house!’ Billie muttered ruefully. ‘I’m dressed up in my fanciest togs because I thought I’d be meeting your family tonight.’

‘I wanted to surprise you.’

‘You’ve succeeded.’ Billie laughed, staring down at the stretch of pristine beach coming into view as they descended. The sun had gone down but a brazier was burning, casting flickers of light across the sand and the dark waves washing into the cove.

The wooden beach house was tucked into a corner and lit up with fairy lights that looked like roses. ‘Wow...that’s so pretty!’ Billie exclaimed, staring when she saw lights flickering beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows as well.

Gio carried her over the threshold and she lost one of her shoes and he said that was a good thing because she couldn’t walk in them and she was smiling as he set her down on a polished wood floor. There were flowers everywhere she looked and lots of burning candles casting glimmers of moving light and shadow across the opulent interior. Their driver settled the cases in the adjoining bedroom and departed.

Billie wandered barefoot into the bedroom, appreciating the luxurious but plain furnishings and the wide, comfortable bed.

‘Champagne?’ Gio prompted.

‘Maybe later. Right now, I want a shower more than anything,’ she confided, keen to be free of the tailored dress and jacket she had worn to look smart. ‘Could you unzip me?’

‘If I unzip you,’ Gio remarked as she shed her jacket and moved helpfully close, ‘you’ll never make it to the shower.’

The zip ran down. He spread the fabric back and pressed his mouth to the smooth slope of her shoulder. ‘Your skin is so wondrously soft,’ he told her huskily, skimming the short sleeves down her arms, giving the dress a helpful push downward as it threatened to settle at her waist, and lifting her out of the folds.

‘I’m not going to get my shower,’ Billie forecast as he turned her slowly round to face him.

‘Well, possibly not until later and you might have to share it.’ Gio grinned down at her, his eyes hot as the sun’s rays on her exposed the lush curves of her figure in a green satin and lace bra and panties set. ‘That’s if I ever let you out of bed...’

Billie resisted a sudden urge to stupidly ask him if he thought her bottom was too large. She tried to stay a stable weight but she had never fussed about the curvy shape she had been born with, regarding that as a futile exercise destined to lead only to disappointment. Irritated by her sudden self-consciousness in his presence, she said instead, ‘You’re wearing way too many clothes.’

Gio hauled her up into his arms and kissed her with passionate force before bringing her down on the bed. ‘A shower and food and civilised behaviour later...I promise,’ he swore.

Billie’s memory flew back to the many, many times in the past when Gio had barely stepped through the door of the apartment before grabbing her with the wild impatience and hunger she had always cherished in him, deeming that fervour proof that she was more important to him than he was ever likely to tell her. Of course, the fallout when he announced that he was marrying Calisto had been all the more painful to bear, she conceded ruefully. He had forced her to see the danger of wishful thinking, the foolishness of the assumptions that had made her feel secure. But as soon as she found herself thinking that way, Billie kicked out those negative thoughts and, reminding herself that this was their wedding night, she lay back on the bed where he had placed her.

Gio was her husband now and he was hers in so many ways that he had never been before, she conceded, trying to banish her worries. Together, she and Gio and Theo would be a family. They would also be part of a much bigger family, which she was praying would eventually accept her, even if it was only for Theo’s sake.

‘Who organised all this?’ Billie asked, shifting a hand to indicate the flowers and the candles and the opulent comfort of the room’s appointments. ‘Is the beach house in regular use?’

‘It hadn’t been used in quite some time,’ Gio admitted as he shed his shirt in a careless heap. ‘Leandros’ sister, Eva, is an interior designer and she agreed to do a rush job for me as a favour. She wasn’t sure she would make the deadline until the last minute and only finished this afternoon. The household staff saw to the rest.’

‘I love the candles and the flowers,’ Billie admitted.

‘I knew you would...you’ve always been such a romantic,’ Gio teased.

‘But you organised it so you must be a romantic too,’ she pointed out, absolutely blown away by the gradually dawning realisation that Gio had had the beach house set up for their wedding night solely in an attempt to please her.

‘I’ll never be romantic,’ he fielded wryly. ‘But I am bright enough to work out what’s required and deliver it, glyka mou.’

With the greatest difficulty, Billie dragged her attention from his washboard abs and the way his naturally golden skin sleekly delineated his ripcord musculature. He was gorgeous and yet he was with her and not with the equally gorgeous Calisto. For a split second she let that mystery unnerve her and then she squashed the thought flat, telling herself off for even thinking it. He was married to her now, with her, and Calisto was in the past. Gloriously unaware of her constant attacks of insecurity, Gio stepped out of his trousers and skimmed off his boxers in one fell swoop of impatience.