Claiming My Hidden Son / Bride Behind The Billion-Dollar Veil

A fine irritant, like a tiny pebble in my shoe, stayed with me throughout all my inane conversations with people I didn’t know and another five-minute ribbing from Neo. By the time my father approached I had the notion that my jaw would crack from being ground so tight.

‘Am I mistaken or do you two seem to be getting along?’ my father asked.

‘You are mistaken,’ I quipped, unwilling to admit how that dance and the feel of Calypso in my arms had fired up my blood.

He grimaced. ‘I was hoping this would be less of an ordeal for you if you got along.’

‘I said I’d do what needs to be done. And I will.’

Despite that small, startling flame of anticipation burning inside me.

Despite the fact that I’d completely dismissed any occurrence of a wedding night until exactly five minutes ago.

That sensation of her slender back beneath my hand…that pulse beating at her throat… The shivers she couldn’t control.

The fire of anticipation flared higher, resisting every attempt to dampen it down.

But did I need to?

This abhorrent agreement hadn’t, thankfully, included a stipulation for consummation. But would it be a true marriage without it?

Enough!

Wrestling with myself over this was beneath me. Everything Yiannis Petras had asked for had been delivered. They would get nothing more from me.

That declaration lasted until my new wife walked back into the room and attempted to dismiss me with a vacant smile, even while her eyes challenged me.

Something locked into place inside me.

A challenge that needed answering.

Without stopping to question the wisdom of doing it, I crossed the wide room to where she stood. Took the hand loosely fisted by her side and brushed my lips over her knuckles.

Satisfaction sizzled through me when her breath caught. ‘Say your goodbyes, Calypso. It’s time to leave.’

‘So what now?’ I cringed inwardly at the nerves in my voice.

The helicopter ride—my first—from Nicrete to Agistros, the large island apparently owned entirely by Axios, had been breathtaking and exhilarating, and thankfully had not required much conversation. Largely because Axios had piloted the aircraft and I’d felt too nervous to disturb him, even if there’d been anything to talk about.

My mind was still a jumble after our charged snippets of conversation and that little slip on the dance floor, when he pulled me close and the ache in my belly manifested itself, and my last unsettling conversation with my mother.

But most of all it was the look in Axios’s eyes before he’d whisked me away from the reception and down to the waiting helicopter that kept my heart banging against my ribs.

That look was far too unsettling and electrifying for me to rest easy.

Especially not after landing on a dedicated cliff-side helipad on this island that boasted its own dormant volcano and a jaw-dropping villa that seemed almost too beautiful to be real.

I thought it was the setting sun that leant it that fairy tale look and made the unevenly staggered storeys seem to go on for ever. But every single facet of it turned out to be real, from the blush-hued stone, the towering arched windows, the rooftop infinity pool that seemed to blend into the sky and the endless reception rooms and bedroom suites, each holding priceless ancient works of art interspersed with the work of new cutting-edge artists whose work I loved.

Every jaw-dropping fact I’d read about Axios Xenakis had seemed amplified the moment he’d stepped out of the helicopter, and his aura was intensifying with each second as he walked me around Villa Almyra, exuding flawless power and authority.

Now, standing in the luxury sitting room adjoining what I assumed to be the master bedroom, I couldn’t hold my words back.

He didn’t answer for the longest time. He shrugged off the bespoke jacket he’d worn for the wedding ceremony. Then strolled over to the extensive drinks cabinet.

‘Would you like a drink?’ he asked.

About to refuse, I stopped. It would buy me time to ease my nerves. ‘Mineral water, thanks.’

He poured my drink, then a single malt whisky into a crystal glass, handing mine to me before taking his time to savour his first sip.

The feeling that he was waiting, biding his time for…something threatened to overwhelm me, even while my senses skittered with alien excitement. Slowly it grew hotter, more dangerous.

His gaze raked over my wedding dress for a charged few seconds. ‘Now we do whatever you want. It’s your wedding night after all,’ he drawled.

I got the feeling he was testing me. For what, I didn’t know. And I wasn’t sure I was ready to find out.

‘The modern art pieces all over the house. Did you pick them yourself?’

His eyes widened fractionally, as if I’d surprised him. ‘Yes,’ he bit out. Then, on a softer note, ‘Good art rarely loses its value.’

A layer of my nerves eased as I nodded. ‘And pieces from emerging talent only appreciate with time.’

He strolled to the massive fireplace in the living room and leaned one muscular shoulder against the mantel. ‘Masterpieces from the greats are all well and good, but modern art has its place too. They should be appreciated side by side.’

Just as he had placed them all over the house. I took a sip of water, settling deeper into my seat. ‘I agree. Does that theme echo in all your properties?’

‘Yes, it does.’

Before I could express pleasure in the thought, the gleam in his eyes arrested me.

‘Is this how you wish to spend your wedding night, Calypso? Discussing art?’

The nerves rushed back and my hand trembled. ‘What if it is?’

‘Then I suggest you might want to be in more comfortable attire than that gown?’

Again, his eyes raked me, sending heat spiralling through me.

‘Is this a ploy that usually works for you?’

One corner of his mouth lifted before his eyes darkened. ‘Like you, I’ve never been married, so we both find ourselves in strange waters. Either way, the dress is going to have to come off one way or the other.’

‘And if you don’t like what is underneath…?’ I dared. ‘Will you send me back?’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Is that what you’re hoping for?’

Was it? I could have sworn my answer would be yes until actually faced with the question. But the word stuck in my throat, refusing to emerge as he sauntered towards me, taking a moment to discard the crystal tumbler so both his hands were free to capture my shoulders when he stopped in front of me.

‘What I’m hoping for is that you will stop dishing out those enigmatic smiles and tell me what you meant earlier,’ I said.

He frowned. ‘You’ve lost me,’ he drawled.

‘When you said if we were to consummate this marriage? Are you incapable of doing so? If so perhaps you should get one of your staff to show me where I’m to sleep.’

His eyebrows rose. ‘If I didn’t know better I’d think you just issued me a challenge,’ he drawled, in a voice that ruffled the tight nerves beneath my skin.

His scent filled my nostrils, his calm breathing propelling my attention to his sculpted chest, to the pulse beating steadily at his throat. To the magnificent vitality of his skin and the sheer animalistic aura breaching my tightly controlled space. Screaming at me to notice his masculinity. And not just to notice. He drew me with a power I’d never known before. I didn’t just want to breathe him in. I wanted to touch. Explore. Taste.

That sensation was so strong I stepped back, eager to diffuse it.

The hands that held me stemmed my movement, and hard on the heels of my immobility came the realisation that I wanted to stay right where I was. But I didn’t want him to know that.

‘Well? Are you?’ I taunted.

A mysterious smile tilted one corner of his lips before his hands slid down to my elbows. ‘It should be easy enough to prove, matia mou.’

Just like that I was hit with the reality that this was my wedding night. That I was all but taunting him into…possessing me.

The thought sent a shiver through me. Coupled with something else. Something way too close to the forbidden desire that had coursed through me when I’d allowed myself to dream of this day some time in the dim and distant future, when I was out from under my father’s thumb and free to have a boyfriend. A lover. A husband.

But how could that be? The man I’d imagined bore no resemblance to this formidable man, who wore arrogance and power as if it were a second skin. Theos, even his frown was attention-absorbing.

‘Are you cold?’ he asked.

I shook my head. Like everything else in this stunning villa, the temperature was perfect, blending with the early summer breeze.

‘Then what’s wrong?’ he rasped, his eyes turning speculative again, as they had when I almost gave myself away on the dance floor.

The pain had thankfully receded, but other questions loomed just as large. The subject of my virginity and how that would factor into things, for one.

I pushed it away, seizing on another pressing need. ‘I want you to tell me exactly what your agreement with my father is.’

One eyebrow rose. ‘Isn’t that a case of shutting the barn door after the horse has bolted? What’s the point of rehashing the subject?’

It was time to come clean. ‘I… I may have let you operate under the assumption that I know what’s going on.’

Surprise flickered through his eyes before they narrowed. ‘Are you saying you don’t?’

‘Not the exact details, no.’

Scepticism flared. ‘You expect me to believe that? When you walked willingly by his side up the aisle?’

‘Tell me you’ve never done something against your will and I’ll call you a liar,’ I replied.

The flare of his nostrils confirmed what I suspected—that this marriage was as much without his approval as it was without mine.

‘Assuming it was solely your father who pushed for this, what steps did you take to stop him?’

None. Because my protests, like everything else, had fallen on deaf ears. I didn’t say the words out loud, his timely reminder that, despite the promise I’d made, my mother’s fate was in my father’s hands, stilling my tongue. My hesitation gave Axios the answer he needed.

‘I didn’t, and the details don’t matter. We are where we are. But I know there’s an agreement between you. I simply want you to spell it out for me so I know what I’m dealing with.’

He stared at me, his measuring gaze weighted. I shouldn’t have been relieved, even a little pleased to see the cynicism fade a little, but I was.

‘Maybe he didn’t tell you. How very like Petras to want to keep the spoils all for himself,’ he muttered almost absently, before dropping his hands from my arms to say abruptly, ‘Under an agreement signed between your grandfather and mine, Yiannis Petras, or any appointed representative after his death, can collect on a debt owed by my family. Your father wanted twenty-five percent of my company or the cash equivalent. We settled on one hundred million euros. And you.’

I couldn’t hide my gasp at the confirmation that I’d been sold like a chattel.

Again, his cynicism receded. ‘He really didn’t tell you? Are you saying you’re a victim in this?’ he breathed.

The label smarted. ‘I’m not a victim. But, no, he didn’t tell me.’

Jaw gritted, he shoved a hand through his hair. ‘So you don’t know that under the terms of the agreement he’ll also receive the deeds to Kosima?’

‘What is Kosima?’

A bleak expression darkened his face. Whatever Kosima was, it held an emotional attachment for him.

‘It’s the private island where my grandfather was born. It was his favourite place on earth. Your grandfather knew that when he and my grandfather struck their unholy agreement. I assume he passed the information on to your father.’

My heart lurched with guilt, and for a wild moment I wanted to ease his pain. ‘And my father demanded it as part of the agreement?’

Again his lips twisted, before his gaze slanted over me from head to toe. ‘Of course. Just as he demanded that I marry you.’

This time my heart lurched for a different reason. He truly hadn’t wanted this marriage—was entangled in it against his will just as I was.

About to stress that I had known absolutely nothing about this, that my father’s avaricious demands were nothing to do with me, I heard that stern warning from my father slam into my brain. I didn’t doubt that he would make my mother’s life even more of a living hell than it was now.

The realisation that nothing had changed, that nothing would change, settled on me like a heavy, claustrophobic cloak.

‘Why did you go through with it?’ I asked. When he frowned, I hurried to add, ‘You obviously hate what my family has done to you, so why…?’

My disjointed thoughts rumbled to a halt, my insides twisting with dread. A caged lion was an unpredictable creature, and from the first moment I’d set eyes on him I’d felt his banked fury.

Now I knew why.

His eyes blazed grey fire at me. ‘You think I didn’t try to find a way that didn’t involve tying myself down for twelve months or handing over a multi-million-euro pay-out your father has done nothing to earn?’ he sliced at me.

My breath caught. ‘Why twelve months? Why not three…or even six?’

His mouth tightened. ‘Ask your father. He had the power to nullify some or all aspects of this agreement. He chose not to. And he counted on me not fighting this in court because adverse publicity is the last thing my company needs right now. Your grandfather was an unreasonable man who my own grandfather had the misfortune of partnering with.’

‘I know they started the airline business together, but—’

‘Your grandfather wasn’t interested in an airline business. He wanted to invest in boats, despite knowing next to nothing about them,’ he spat out the words. ‘But because they were tied together my grandfather was forced to work twice as hard to maintain both arms of the business. The only way Petras would agree to dissolve the partnership was to leave without taking his quarter-of-a-million-dollar share of the business immediately. If he had done so he would’ve bankrupted the company. But that didn’t stop him from demanding crippling interest on the loan, and an agreement promising a percentage of Xenakis Aeronautics should he or any other Petras need a future bail-out. But even then, it was too late. My grandfather had spread himself too thin, trying to maintain two suffering businesses, but he was too proud to declare bankruptcy. The strain broke his marriage and his family, and after my grandmother died his heart just…gave up.’

My heart twisted at the anguish in his voice. ‘I…’

What could I say? I’m sorry? Would Axios even believe me? What did it matter? My father had cunningly used the past against him. Against both of us.

‘I didn’t know any of this.’

His jaw rippled. ‘My grandfather was my mentor. He taught me everything I know. But he withheld the extent of how bad things were until it was too late. Until I had to watch him wither away.’

After an age of losing himself in the bleak past, his eyes zeroed in on me.

‘Why? If you didn’t know all this, why present yourself to me at that altar like a sacrificial lamb?’

The cynicism was back full force. ‘I’m not a lamb!’

One corner of his mouth lifted. ‘No, I’m learning that my initial impression was mistaken. But I still want to know why,’ he pressed with quiet force.

How could I tell him without speaking of the very thing I’d done all this to avoid? If my father had managed to pressure a powerful man like Axios Xenakis to do his will, what would he do to my mother if he found out I’d been divulging family secrets?

‘Perhaps I had something to gain too,’ I responded truthfully, knowing how it would be viewed.

True to form, his eyes slowly hardened, and that disappointment I’d briefly spotted at the altar flashed across his face.

As one of his hands slowly rose to cup my face, it seemed he wanted to delve deeper, perhaps even attempt to understand how we had become caught in this tangled web. But then he slowly withdrew, his demeanour resigned, even a little weary.

An urge to soothe him spiked through me. I managed to curb it, barely managing not to fidget under his piercing scrutiny.

‘Did the agreement stipulate that we needed to…to consummate the marriage?’ I asked.

He froze, and a sizzling, electrifying look entered his eyes. I got the feeling that he’d been waiting for this…that somehow coming to this point was what that sense of heightened expectancy had been all about.

‘Not specifically, no.’

‘But you don’t know that it won’t be held against you…against us…further down the line?’

He gave an indolent shrug even while his eyes continued to pin me in place. ‘He’s your father, Calypso. You tell me.’

I couldn’t rule it out. And I suspected Axios knew that.

‘Maybe he will. Maybe he won’t. But I can’t take the risk.’

With my mother’s words echoing in my heart, my hunger for freedom grew with every second.

He took a slow, steady step towards me. His hands at his sides, he simply stared down at me, his only movement the deep rise and fall of his chest.

‘What does that mean, Calypso?’ he queried softly.

‘It means I want there to be no room for misunderstanding later.’

Slowly, his hand rose again, his knuckles grazing my cheek. My shiver made his eyes darken.

‘I need to hear the words, so there’s no misunderstanding now.’

Heat suffused my face, as if chasing his touch. But his gaze wouldn’t release me. Not until the words trembling on my lips fell free.

‘I want to consummate this agreement. I want you to…take me.’

The full force of the words powered through me, shaking me from head to foot. Dear God, this wasn’t how I’d imagined losing my virginity. None of this was how I’d dreamed it. So why did my insides twist themselves with…excitement?

For the longest time he simply stared at me, a myriad of emotions crossing his face. Eventually that dark gleam returned in full force, his presence filling the room as he turned his hand and brushed a thumb over my lips.

‘Are you sure you don’t wish to discuss…art?’

The thickness of his voice displaced any levity his words attempted. And it drove home that this was happening. My wedding night. No, it wasn’t the one I’d dreamed about, but really, if life was fair, would my father have tossed me in as part of a hundred-million-euro deal?

That thought was buried beneath the turbulent need climbing through me as he dragged his digit back and forth over my lip.

‘I’m sure,’ I answered, in a voice that sounded nothing like mine.

He tilted my gaze to his, making a gruff sound at whatever it was he saw on my face. His head started to lower—just as the other delicate subject raced to the forefront of my mind.

Tell him. He’s going to find out soon enough.

‘There’s something you should know.’

One eyebrow rose in silent question.

‘I’m a virgin.’

His fingers froze beneath my chin, his whole body turning to marble. ‘What did you say?’

I swallowed the knot in my throat, praying the shivers would stop coursing through my body. ‘I’ve never done…never been with a—’

A curse fell from his lips, raw and stunned. ‘Why?’

Finally—finally—that burst of hysteria filtered through. ‘You’re asking why your wife is a virgin? Isn’t that an odd question?’

‘Ne—and it is precisely why I want to know why a twenty-four-year-old who looks the way you do is still untouched.’

Heat flowed through me. ‘Looks the way I do…?’

The faintest colour washed his cheekbones. ‘You must be aware of your beauty, Calypso,’ he rasped, and his deep, husky voice set fire to my belly.

I blushed at the raw intensity in his words that reached into a secret part of me and took control of it. Hot tingles raced over my skin, warming me from the inside, tightening low in my belly and hardening my nipples. A gasp tore from my throat. His gaze dropped to my parted lips, his eyes darkening with each charged second that ticked by.

Then his eyes narrowed. ‘Surely Petras didn’t keep you under lock and key simply for this possibility?’ Incredulity racked his voice.

Pain lashed through me, because the same thought had occurred to me. My father might not have visited the ultimate indignity upon me by spelling it out in black and white, but by thwarting all my previous attempts at a relationship he’d ensured his deal would be sweetened with my virginity. Another indication as to how little he cared for me.

Despite the anguish racking me, I raised my chin, pride insisting I did not confirm his suspicion. ‘Does it not occur to you that I’ve simply not met anyone interesting enough?’

Shrewd grey eyes conducted a slow scrutiny. ‘Your pulse is racing. Your face is flushed. I don’t need a crystal ball to tell me you’re excited. It is safe to say that, regardless of why you’ve remained untouched before, you’re definitely interested now, Calypso.’

I silently cursed my body for betraying me but I wasn’t ready to be cowed yet. ‘You want me to bolster your ego by admitting I find you attractive?’

His head went back, as if he was surprised by the question. Of course he did. Good looks. Power. Influence. All attributes that made him irresistible to women. The stunning parade of women he’d purportedly dated was evidence that his effect on the opposite sex was woven into his DNA.

A sexy, arrogant smile curved his lips. ‘I don’t need you to tell me, matia mou. I know you do.’

My gasp was swallowed by the simple act of his head swooping down and his mouth sealing mine in a hot, savage possession that snatched the breath from my lungs. If that kiss in the church had been spine-tingling, this complete mastery was nothing short of earth-shattering.

The bold sweep of his tongue over my sensitive lower lip fired electricity in every cell. When he followed that with the lightest graze of his teeth, in another clever tasting, a tiny hunger-filled sound left my throat.

Axios muttered something beneath his breath before the fingers capturing my chin moved to my lower back, tugging me closer, until the hard column of his body was plastered against mine and the wide stance of his powerful legs cradled me. Until the hot brand of his manhood was unmistakably imprinted against my belly, in a searing promise of what was in store.

His lips devoured mine with unapologetic hunger. And when one hand grasped mine and redirected it to his chest I gave in to the heady desire and explored him. Tensile muscle overlaid by his expensive cotton shirt was warm and inviting, and after a tentative caress, I sighed and gave in to more. The ultra-masculine line of his shoulder and neck drew my fingers, and that mysterious hunger built up into something that both terrified and thrilled me.

He made a gruff sound when my fingers brushed his warm, supple throat. It was enough to startle me. Enough to remind me that I didn’t really know what I was doing. That, while I understood the mechanics of sex, I wasn’t well-versed in its nuances.

Nerves dulled by the fire of arousal resurged, breaking free by way of a helpless whimper.

He raised his head and stared at me for the longest time before catching my hand in his. ‘Come,’ he commanded huskily.

I snatched in a much-needed breath. We both knew where we stood—that we were products of my father’s machinations—surely we were going into this with our eyes open, in the knowledge that this was a one-time thing…weren’t we?

Molten grey eyes watched me. When I slid my hand into his, he led me to some wide, imposing double doors. With casual strength he pushed them open to reveal the most magnificent bedroom I’d ever seen. While it bore unashamed signs of masculinity, the Mediterranean blue hues of the furniture blended with solid wood and gold-trimmed furnishings in the kind of design afforded only to the rich and influential.