Australia: Gorgeous Grooms: The Andreou Marriage Arrangement / His Prisoner in Paradise / Wedding Night with a Stranger

Dear heaven, the need to maintain some form of pretence as Alesha Andreou?

She didn’t want to go there … at least, not so soon. Yet she’d been raised with a strong sense of duty, a respect for bona fide charitable causes, and this evening’s fundraiser was indeed a special one, fostering a terminally ill child with the opportunity to fulfil a much revered wish.

Alesha gathered her crockery and flatware together and deposited both in the kitchen before she ascended the stairs to collect her keys.

She caught sight of Loukas waiting in the foyer as she re-entered the upstairs gallery, and she ran lightly downstairs.

‘I’ll be a while.’

It was a parting shot, a last-ditch attempt for independence that failed miserably as he swung open one of the two solidpanelled doors and indicated the four-wheel drive parked in the driveway.

‘Let’s go.’

She threw him a fulminating look that had no visible effect whatsoever, and they rode the distance to Double Bay in silence.

The apartment was exactly as she’d left it, and she became extremely conscious of Loukas’ presence as he overrode every objection she made.

Okay, so she’d transfer all her clothes, shoes and personal possessions. Any decision about the furniture and the apartment itself could wait. The practical side voted she maintain it as was. Logically, she should lease it out.

Except it bore her personal stamp, with everything carefully chosen to create a perfect blend of muted colours, a kitchen to die for, beautifully elegant furniture and furnishings.

Hers alone … a sanctuary representing a personal triumph through darkness to light, the re-emergence of strength and resolve.

‘I’ll clear the tallboy and dresser drawers while you take the wardrobe.’

She looked at him askance.

He intended to gather together her personal stuff? Lingerie, briefs, bras?

‘I’ll take care of those.’

Except he was already there, opening a drawer and scooping up pastel silk thongs, satin briefs, lacy bras and transferring them into a packing box.

‘Must you?’ she flung with exasperation, barely quelling the urge to hit him.

His husky chuckle incensed her, and she reacted without thought, aiming the shoe she held in her hand with accuracy, only to watch in stunned disbelief as he fielded it and placed it down with care.

His smile was still in place, but the expression in his dark eyes sent chills scudding the length of her spine.

‘You want to play?’

Not the sort of game he had in mind, and she silently damned her foolish action. ‘I don’t do sex in the middle of the day.’

One eyebrow lifted in cynical humour. ‘You prefer furtive foreplay beneath the cover of darkness?’

As Seth had? Ensuring any strike came without warning, and the advantage became his?

In the animal kingdom, she qualified, Seth was akin to a reptile—while Loukas came from an entirely different species … primitive, highly sensual, and infinitely dangerous. A very sexual man, whose reputation with women was legend.

And now he was hers.

Or more accurately … she was his.

Something moved in her eyes, then was quickly gone.

Loukas’ gaze narrowed as he glimpsed the fine hold she had on her emotions, and how unaware she was that he could so easily read them.

Just what was it about her brief marriage that had changed her from a delightful young woman possessed of an engaging personality into someone who rarely laughed and shied away from men?

Abuse? Physical, mental … or both?

The extent of his anger at the possibility surprised him, and he banked it down as he turned his attention to the next drawer. ‘Let’s get this done.’

Methodical placement of clothes being her thing made for easy transference from wardrobe to packing boxes, and she focused on the chore at hand while attempting to ignore Loukas’ presence.

Difficult, she acknowledged, when he was there, a physical entity that filled her with an edgy awareness and made her supremely conscious of every breath she took.

Tonight … she really didn’t want to think about the evening, or how much it would cost her to play an expected part at Loukas’ side. To smile, converse and pretend.

You’ll be fine, Alesha silently assured herself as she slid the zip fastener home on an exquisite gown in deep emerald green whose off-the-shoulder design hugged her slender curves. She opted to leave her hair loose, and employed the skilful use of make-up to highlight her eyes and accent her generously moulded mouth.

Six-thirty for seven meant leaving the house at six, and she attached diamond studs to her ears, added a matching pendant on a slim gold chain, only to have the clasp prove difficult.

‘Problems?’ Loukas crossed to stand behind her, and she held her breath as his fingers brushed her own as he slid the clip into place.

The exclusive tones of his cologne teased her senses, and she stood still, unable in those long seconds to do anything but breathe.

He seemed to surround her, a magnetic force that caused her body to pulse, irrespective of the dictates of her brain.

For one wild moment she wondered if he knew.

Dear heaven, she hoped not.

‘Ready?’

She stepped away from him and collected her evening clutch. ‘Yes.’

As ready as she’d ever be, she vowed silently as the Aston Martin swept through streets slick from an early evening shower.

She’d done this before, many times. Attending various functions in the company of her parents, and partnering Dimitri after her mother’s death.

So what was the big deal?

You can do this, Alesha assured herself again as Loukas slid the car to a halt adjacent the main entry of one of Sydney’s prestigious hotels.

With smooth efficiency the concierge arranged valet parking, and she entered the hotel foyer at Loukas’ side.

A magnificent wide staircase curved to a mezzanine level where guests were gathered in the spacious lounge adjacent the grand ballroom.

Uniformed waiters and waitresses offered canapés, champagne and orange juice.

Smile. Do the meet-and-greet thing, comment on the attendance, assure Karsouli’s continued support to members of the charity committee … and refer any awkward questions to Loukas.

Simple. At least it should have been.

Except she neglected to factor in Loukas’ constant company, the touch of his hand at the back of her waist, the effect his warm smile had on her equilibrium. Dammit, their projected togetherness.

It was inevitable the wide diamond-encrusted wedding ring on her left hand would eventually capture attention. Coupled as it was with the plain gold band Loukas now wore, conclusions were reached and the more emboldened requested confirmation.

The news spread, with almost comical circumspection if one was inclined towards cynical amusement.

‘Darling, how wonderful happiness should evolve from such recent sadness.’ Words expressed by the charity committee member were genuine, and Alesha accepted the air-kiss, the obligatory hug as others followed.

Men, captains of industry, who took the opportunity to shake Loukas’ hand and offer congratulations. And women, some of whom expressed their affection a little more enthusiastically to Loukas than the occasion demanded.

Two in particular, known for their flirting skills and love of high-living.

Alesha assured herself she didn’t care when the exquisite blonde melded her body close and wound her arms round Loukas’ neck.

To his credit, he moved his head so the intended kiss brushed the edge of his jaw, and he summoned a faint smile as he disentangled the blonde’s arms.

A sparkling laugh, the hint of a moue, then the blonde turned towards Alesha. ‘Darling, he’s delicious. If you hadn’t snared him first …’ The words trailed to a halt, with no doubt of the implication.

Darling, Alesha was sorely tempted to redress, you’d have been most welcome. Instead she offered a sweet smile, and barely managed to contain her surprise as Loukas lifted her hand and brushed his lips to her sensitive palm.

For a brief moment the room and everyone in it faded as her eyes locked with his, and the air between them seemed filled with electric tension.

Then he smiled, and curled her hand within his own. ‘Fortunately, she did.’

Oh, my … what was that?

Playing the part, a tiny imp taunted. And he does it so well.

‘Pity,’ the blonde voiced with seeming regret. ‘We could have had fun.’ With a pretty wave of her hand the blonde turned and melted into the crowd.

‘You can let go now,’ Alesha managed quietly, attempting to pull free without success, for he merely threaded his fingers through her own. She kept her voice light and a smile in place. ‘Must you?’

‘Yes.’

He glimpsed sudden pain darken her eyes, then it was gone.

It was perhaps as well the ballroom doors opened and the assembled guests converged towards the three main entry points.

Their table held prominent position, and the usual speeches included gratitude for previous funding together with a plea for the guests’ continuing generosity.

The drinks flowed, entertainment was provided between each of the three dinner courses, and it wasn’t until coffee was served that there was the opportunity for any lengthy conversation.

A DJ set discs spinning at one end of the ballroom and provided a mix of music. A time of the evening when some of the older guests began to leave, and the younger set filled the adjoining floor-space.

‘Shall we?’

Dance? With him?

She had, on a few occasions in the past. Way past, when her life had been uncomplicated and she’d viewed the future as a journey of discovery.

Following her separation from Seth, the only male she’d chosen to dance with had been her father … occasions when she’d felt protected, safe.

Loukas and safe didn’t equate.

In the name of heaven, get a grip. She was in a room filled with people, and she was being too ridiculous for words.

‘Sure, why not?’ she managed simply.

Except being held by him was far from simple. Even in killer heels she was conscious of his height, his restrained strength and his sexual energy.

One hand lingered at the base of her spine, and she barely controlled a faint shivery sensation as his thumb brushed a gentle pattern over the delicate bones.

If he sought to soothe, the caress had the opposite effect, and she dug her lacquered nails into his hand in a silent plea to desist.

A fruitless exercise as he drew her close, splaying the hand at her spine to hold her there.

Worse, the DJ selected a slow, seductive number and the lights dimmed low, providing a level of intimacy that made her want to pull away from him.

She tried, without success, and everything within her coalesced and became one highly sensitized ache. It made her want something she’d thought she once held in her grasp … only to be cheated as her emotional dreams were smashed into a thousand pieces.

Please, she silently begged. I can’t do this.

I want my life back … the one I carefully rebuilt for myself. No emotional ties, no room for disappointment and heartache.

‘I think we’ve managed a sufficiently convincing display,’ Alesha offered evenly, and wondered if Loukas had any idea of the effort it had cost her not to tear herself away from him.

‘You’ve had enough?’

Enough of what? Being held intimately close to him? Playing pretend? Why not go for broke and include both, with emphasis on the former?

He sounded mildly amused, and she deliberately stood on his foot.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said sweetly.

‘No, you’re not.’ He eased her to the edge of the dance floor, then began leading the way to their table.

The ‘goodnight’ thing took a while, and it was a relief to leave the ballroom and descend the stairs to the hotel foyer.

The concierge summoned their car, and within minutes the Aston Martin appeared in the forecourt.

Alesha slid into the passenger seat, fastened the seat belt, then she eased her head against the cushioned rest and closed her eyes.

Home, bed. And, mercifully, a restful sleep.

Except home was no longer her apartment, and it was late, which meant Loukas probably was unlikely to run an electronic check of the world markets before heading for bed.

‘Headache?’

Her eyelids lifted and she turned towards him. It would be so easy to say yes, and she almost did. Except honesty had her shaking her head.

The night cast the car’s interior with a shadowy light, throwing his profile into stark angles.

He was something else. Sophisticated, powerful … yet beneath that persona lurked a man she found difficult to fathom. Content, apparently, to enter a loveless marriage and sire progeny sans emotional involvement.

What was it with that?

She knew all the issues. Hadn’t she agreed to them? Although agree didn’t enter the equation. Choice had weighed heavily against her.

A situation that pushed her to the edge and kept her there.

‘You handled the evening well.’

His silky drawl curled round her nerve-ends and pulled them to breaking point.

‘While you excelled.’

‘A compliment?’

She looked at him carefully. ‘Of course. What else?’

‘I doubt your foot’s deliberate aim was accidental.’

‘Really?’ Alesha managed sweetly.

Loukas smiled. She was a refreshing change from the women who formed part of his business and social entourage. Women who knew how to please and were forthcoming in offering to share his bed.

Easy pickings, he reflected without shame. Aware few, if any, had any thought beyond the advantages of his wealth, the gifts, the travel, the media attention his presence gained.

It was after midnight when he garaged the car and reset the security system.

Alesha made for the staircase, reaching their suite ahead of him, and she slipped off her heels, removed her ear-studs and reached for the clasp holding her pendant in place.

Stiff, it still refused to release, and she muttered an unladylike oath beneath her breath.

‘Let me.’

She hadn’t heard him enter the room, and she held her breath as his fingers brushed her nape. Within seconds he freed the recalcitrant clasp and dropped the pendant into her palm.

‘Thanks.’

His eyes were dark, slumbrous, as he laid a finger beneath her chin and tilted it. ‘So … thank me.’

The wayward pulse at the base of her throat began its rapid thudding beat, and her eyes flared as he lowered his head down to hers.

‘Don’t—’

Whatever else she meant to utter didn’t find voice as his mouth took hers in a kiss that grazed her lips with sensual promise, warm, caressing with deliberate intent as he sought her response.

One hand shifted to cup her nape while the other slid to the base of her spine and he drew her in against him.

Awareness flared as he deepened the kiss, his tongue an erotic force that sent the blood sizzling through her veins, flooding her inner core with a piercing sweetness until she became lost … wanting, needing on some subliminal level to superimpose a different image from the cruel taunts she’d received beneath Seth’s hands.

It would be so easy to close her eyes and let whatever happen … happen.

She felt him reach for the zip fastening on her gown, sensed the slow slide as the silk slithered down her body. All she wore was a satin thong brief, and the breath hitched in her throat as he cupped her breasts and began exploring their contours, stroking each tender peak until she became powerless against the pleasurable sigh emerging from her lips.

His mouth possessed her own … persuasive, evocative, as his hand shaped her waist, then slid low to seek her swollen clitoris.

Unbidden, she arched against him, unaware of the sensual sound she made as he skilfully brought her to climax, held her there, then he probed her silken heat in readiness for his possession.

It was the intrusion that brought her to a shuddering halt, and she froze, catapulted into a stark reality where past and present images merged and became one.

Panic born from fear lent her strength as she wrenched her mouth from his own, before she railed her fists against his shoulders in a bid to be free of him.

The air in her lungs escaped in tortuous gasps as he released her, and she could only look at him in shocked dismay.

Her lips parted, but no sound emerged, and she hugged her arms together, emotionally bereft and unable to control the way her body began to shake.

Dear God. She wanted to run and hide, except escape wasn’t the answer. Hell … what could she say?

Any explanation would take her to a place she didn’t want to go. Yet how could she not?

Her eyes widened as Loukas lifted a hand, and she instinctively took a protective backward step … a reaction that brought his narrowed gaze.

He caught the stark fear evident before she successfully masked it, and he fought against a silent rage as he reached for his discarded jacket and placed it carefully round her shoulders.

‘I’m sorry.’ Her voice was little more than a whisper as she instinctively caught the edges and hugged them close, barely registering the jacket was way too large on her slender frame.

Not nearly as regretful as he felt, Loukas perceived. For more reasons than the one she presumably referred to. The ache in his groin would subside … eventually. Her issue with intimacy was something else.

It placed a different emphasis on her previous short marriage, and he silently damned the man who’d clearly mistreated her.

‘I should have—’ she began, only to have him place a gentle finger over her lips to still anything further she might have uttered. Warned you, she finished silently, stricken with a host of ambivalent emotions, the overriding one being a mix of guilt and shame.

‘Don’t,’ he said quietly.

She wanted to escape into the en suite, don nightwear, then slip beneath the bedcovers and summon sleep. Except her feet refused to obey the command of her brain.

‘I’ll go sleep in another room,’ Alesha offered, and felt the light brush of his fingers over her lips.

‘No.’

How much would it take to lie in a bed barely a few metres from his own, and not be vividly aware of how close she’d come to the sexual act?

To recall in intimate detail the touch of his mouth on her own, the trail of his hands, and how he’d aroused her emotions to fever pitch.

Until she’d freaked out.

Oh, dear God.

How could she have come so close … only to freeze like a frightened virgin?

She almost wished he’d overridden her physical protest and consummated the marriage. Then she’d have got past the dread, the fear … hell, the stark memory of that last night beneath Seth’s vicious hands.

At the very least, she owed Loukas an explanation …

Oh, please, she derided silently. Like he wouldn’t already have reached the right conclusion?

Hadn’t she consulted therapists and talked the talk until she knew every angle? Every possible scenario?

She’d thought she’d conquered her fear of intimacy after Seth … but then she’d never tested it. Preferring to lead a celibate life, and refusing to date.

Tonight was the closest she’d allowed any man to come … and look how that had ended? Disaster plus.

Even thinking about it filled her with shame … and guilt.

Move forward.

Sure, like that would happen any time soon given her reaction just now?

She shivered beneath the warmth of his jacket, and she lifted one hand, then dropped it back to her side with an awkward gesture. ‘I need to—’ Escape. Move away from him and the almost electric tension filling the room before—what? She said something foolish? Trite?

Go, a silent voice bade. And she did, heading into her en suite without a backward glance.

She took care to close the door carefully, then she removed the jacket and laid it over a chair before crossing to the vanity.

Studiously avoiding the mirror, she removed her make-up, brushed her teeth a little too vigorously, then she pulled on sleepwear, took a deep calming breath … and re-entered the bedroom.

And found it empty.

There was a sense of relief as she crossed to the bed she’d occupied the previous night, and she slid between the sheets, dimmed the lights, then closed her eyes.

To sleep, hopefully.

Except images filled her head, past and present, merging into a scrambled mix that entered her subconscious with tortured clarity, rendering her helpless as the mental reel spun out.

CHAPTER SIX

LOUKAS dragged a hand through his damp hair and reached for a towel.

A shower had eased some of the muscular tension, but not the slow-burning anger existent, for there was a part of him that wanted to physically harm the man whose mistreatment had seeded fear in the woman he’d married.

There was a word for it. And legal redress.

The question was whether Alesha had pressed charges.

Possibly not, in a bid to avoid publicity.

His eyes narrowed as he pulled on boxers … nightwear he rarely donned. The women he’d bedded were comfortable with their nudity, as well as his own.

What in hell had Alesha’s ex done to turn a confident outgoing young woman into someone who had serious issues with intimacy?

Rape … physical abuse? Both?

His hands clenched into tight fists at the thought of her being subjected to either.

And paused momentarily to wonder why it affected him to this degree.

Had Dimitri known of his daughter’s mistreatment?

Subdued lighting greeted him as he re-entered the bedroom, and his gaze swept to the slender form beneath the covers of the bed adjacent his own.

Was she asleep … or merely contriving to give that impression?

Loukas slid between the covers of his own bed, closed the lights, then lay quietly as he reflected on his every move since their arrival home from the fundraiser.

She had kissed like an angel … and he was willing to swear her reaction to his touch had been genuine.

Until she had panicked and fought against him with a desperation born of fear. Hardly the action of someone who’d sought counselling and emerged whole.

It was a while before he slept, and he came sharply awake at a soft beeping sound that had him reaching for the security sensor unit.

The glass door leading onto the terrace was unsecured, and the heat sensor detected a human form occupying a chair.

He moved quietly to his feet, checked the adjoining bed and discovered it empty.

The luminous dial on his watch showed it was several minutes past three.

Alesha? It had to be, and he extracted jeans and pulled them on, then added a tee shirt, before going in search of her.

With sure movements he crossed the gallery and ran lightly downstairs.

Subtle garden illumination provided sufficient light for him to see the slight feminine form curled up on one of four cushioned cane sofas nestled around a glass-topped table.

He made a point of ensuring she heard his approach, and he caught the quick movement of her hands as she brushed each cheek before turning towards him.

Tears?

Somehow the thought of her needing to retreat out here to cry alone touched a place in his heart he’d previously considered beyond reach.

The night air held a faint chill, and he sank down onto the sofa beside her.

‘Unable to sleep?’ He kept his voice light, and caught the slight shake of her head.