Mistress: Taming the Playboy: Constantine's Defiant Mistress / Androletti's Mistress / Valenti's One-Month Mistress

CHAPTER SEVEN

LAURA was aware of a surprisingly green oval rising up to meet them as the helicopter landed with the agility of a large moth. Ringed with silver-white sand, from the sky the island had looked like a jewel in the middle of a sea so intensely blue that she’d felt quite shaken with the beauty of it all.

And shaken by her first ever trip in a helicopter, of course.

She stole a glance at Alex, who also seemed completely rapt by the splendour unfolding before him, and wondered what kind of effect this trip was going to have on him. Because although she’d insisted on travelling out to Greece on a regular airline, since ‘servants don’t arrive in private jets,’ as she had told Constantine firmly, there had been a helicopter waiting at Athens airport to whisk them off to the island of Livinos.

It had all proved a little distracting—and Laura found herself wondering if experiencing these enormous riches from such an early age had been instrumental in fashioning Constantine’s character? She stared out at the gradually slowing helicopter blades. Of course it had! Your early experiences always shaped your development like nothing else. If he’d been used to snapping his fingers from an early age and getting whatever it was he wanted then no wonder he was so autocratic and demanding.

She held Alex’s hand tightly as she helped him down from the helicopter, with his beloved blue bear clutched tightly to his chest. He’d been worried that the scruffy old toy was too babyish to bring with him—but Laura had insisted the bear come too. Heaven only knew he wouldn’t go to sleep without him.

Thinking she heard someone call her name, she looked up, her eyes narrowed against the blinding heat of the hot sun, and there, standing beside a four-wheel drive, was the man who had been dominating her thoughts all week.

Constantine! Here! Her mouth dried and her heart began to race erratically as he fixed his piercing gaze on them. So much hung on what happened next, and for Alex’s sake she prayed that this first meeting would be a success as they made their way across the scorching tarmac towards the Greek billionaire.

Constantine felt a sudden lurching of his heart as he watched them approach, unprepared for the powerful feelings which came surging over him as he stared at the boy. The photos he had seen had made him take seriously her claim that the child was his—even though he had done his best to deny it at the time. But seeing him now, in the living and breathing flesh—well, that was something entirely different. Put a hundred—no, a thousand seven-year-old boys in front of him and Constantine would have instantly picked out this particular boy as having sprung from Karantinos loins.

He sucked in a ragged breath as they grew closer, his heart now pounding with a terrible combination of recognition and regret—that they were strangers to one another, and yet he knew that they were linked in the most primeval way of all.

With an effort he tore his gaze away from Alex and let it travel instead to Laura, whose eyes were fixed on him with a certain amount of trepidation. As well they might be. Constantine’s lips curved with contempt. Another cheap little dress and a pair of sandals which had seen better days—and her fine hair all mussed up in a cloud around her head. Had she deliberately come here today emphasising her lowly status, after stubbornly insisting that she be employed in the house as a member of staff? Was she perhaps hoping that he might make some kind of generous settlement on her if she insisted on highlighting the differences between them?

Yet despite the anger he felt towards her there was a fair amount of it directed at himself, for the inexplicable lust he still felt for her. That his groin should instantly ache with an unquenchable desire to make love to her—this pale and insipid little shop-worker who had turned down his offer of marriage!

But he composed his face into a smile of welcome as they grew closer—because he was clever enough to know that he could never win the boy if he was seen to be openly critical of his mother.

‘C-Constantine,’ stumbled Laura. ‘I … well, I certainly wasn’t expecting to find you here to meet us.’

‘What an unexpected pleasure it must be,’ he murmured sardonically, but his eyes were fixed on the child and he was aware of a strange beating of his heart. ‘Hello, Alex.’

Alex turned a confused face up towards Laura ‘Who’s this, Mum?’

Constantine crouched down so that he was on a level with the boy, wondering if there would be some kind of instant recognition on the part of his son—but of course there was none. Had he perhaps been secretly hoping that Laura might already have told him—that there would be some kind of touching scene outside the airport? But things like that only happened in movies, he told himself grimly. This was real life.

Usually he did not care what kind of impression he made—people could either take him or leave him. His careless attitude stemmed from the fact that other men were always anxious to be his friend, while women were eager to be his lover. But now he realised that unexpectedly his heart was beating fast with something approaching concern. I want him to like me, he thought fiercely. I need him to like me.

‘My name is Constantine Karantinos,’ he said softly. ‘And you are going to be staying in my father’s house.’

Alex nodded, as if this were nothing untoward, and Laura supposed that after the excitement of the day itself he would have calmly accepted being told he was taking a trip to the moon. ‘Is it a nice house?’

‘Oh, it’s a very nice house,’ answered Constantine, with a smile of rare indulgence. ‘With a big swimming pool.’

Alex blinked. ‘You mean, just for us?’

‘Just for us,’ replied Constantine gravely.

Alex bit his lip in the way he always did when he was worried, and Laura’s heart turned over as she watched him. ‘But I’m not very good at swimming,’ he said.

Constantine wondered why. ‘Then we shall have to teach you—would you like that?’

Alex nodded, his dark eyes wide. ‘Yes, please!’

‘Let’s get in the car, then.’ And Constantine helped the child into the back seat and strapped him in, before stepping back to allow Laura to pass.

His eyes narrowed as she moved close enough for him to be able to get the drift of some light scent, and despite its cheapness he swallowed with another unexpected wave of lust.

‘You look …’ He allowed his gaze to drift over her pale skin and pinched expression and saw her bite her lip in response to his critical scrutiny. ‘Pretty tired,’ he conceded.

‘Yes,’ said Laura, thinking that tired didn’t even come close—she felt physically and mentally exhausted. Truth to tell, she hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since she’d met Constantine at the Grapevine that night—plus she’d been working some of Sarah’s shifts, to make up for the time she was going to take off. ‘It’s been a long week,’ she said wearily.

For a moment—just for a moment—he felt the faintest tug of sympathy. For the first time he noticed that the grey eyes were shadowed, and that her pale skin was almost translucent with fatigue.

‘Then for heaven’s sake get in the car and relax,’ he said roughly, climbing into the driver’s seat himself and starting up the engine, while the helicopter pilot put their small and rather battered suitcases in the boot.

‘Wow! Get in, Mum!’ Alex enthused. ‘It’s huge.’

Uncomfortably conscious of trying to keep as much of her pale, bare legs hidden as possible, Laura got in next to her son. She caught sight of a pair of black eyes mocking her as they glanced at her from the rearview mirror, and her reaction to that unmistakably sensual look was instinctive, though completely unwelcome. She felt the weak, thready patter of her heart and the icing of her skin, but she stared straight ahead at his broad shoulders and prayed that he would just let her get on with her work while he got down to the important business of getting to know Alex. Did he realise that she was determined to fight her desire for him—since no good could come out of their renewing a sexual relationship?

‘Do you live near the sea?’ piped up Alex.

‘No place on the island is far from it,’ answered Constantine. ‘And if you’re very lucky you might see one of the Karantinos ships sailing by.’

Alex failed to keep the sense of wonder from his voice. ‘You mean real ships?’

Constantine laughed. ‘Yes. Very real. And very big.’

‘I’d love that,’ said Alex wistfully, and then bit his lip in the way he’d unconsciously picked up from his mother. ‘But Mum will be working, won’t she? And she says I’m not to get in anyone’s way.’

There was an awful silence, and if there had been a dark corner nearby then Laura would have gone away and crawled into it. She had never felt sorry for herself—ever. She had always embraced hard work and considered it a part and parcel of bringing up a child out of wedlock. But Alex’s words prompted a deep dislike of her predicament—and of what it was doing to her son.

His words had set them apart. Making him sound like some servant’s child from a different century—almost as if he was going to be sent up the chimney and asked to sweep it! And Constantine clearly felt it, too—because once more he caught her gaze in the driving mirror, but this time the look was not remotely sensual, it was spitting with a slow, burning anger. As if it was an insult to his honour to hear his son speaking in such a way.

‘You must not worry about your mother’s working hours,’ he said abruptly. ‘Since I know that she will be happy for you to enjoy yourself.’

‘I just don’t want her to feel left out,’ said Alex loyally, and Laura could have wept. It was supposed to be her protecting him, and not the other way round.

‘Of course you must let Constantine show you all his ships,’ said Laura, as if she discussed the ownership of ships every day of her life.

‘I used to live here when I was about your age,’ said Constantine conversationally.

‘Oh, wow!’ Alex sighed. ‘Lucky you.’

Something in the boy’s wistfulness made a rush of unwilling memories come flooding back—and for once Constantine could not block them out. In many ways it had been a textbook and idyllic upbringing—with none of the stresses surrounding life spent in the city. The beauty of Livinos, and the ability to swim and to fish and to climb trees without fear—those were gifts which every other child on the island had experienced. He hadn’t needed to be the son of a wealthy man to enjoy the carefree freedoms of childhood in this part of Greece.

But, essentially, it had been a lonely time for Constantine. Materially rich but emotionally neglected by a mother who had never been there—even when she had been physically present. His beautiful, fragile mother, who had captivated his father like a moth to a flame—who had consumed all those around her but given little back. Who had not known—nor been able to learn—how to love the strong-minded baby she had given birth to.

‘Look out of the window, Alex,’ said Constantine gently. ‘As well as some of the most wonderful beaches you will ever see, we have mountains, and forests of cedar, oak and pine. And mines of silver and gold.’

‘Gold?’ spluttered Alex. ‘Not really?’

‘Yes, really. It was first discovered by the Parians, who came from the island of Paros.’

This time Laura sent Constantine a silent message. Stop it, her eyes appealed. Stop painting for him the kind of pictures he has only ever seen in films or books before. Please don’t make his life in England fade into pale and boring insignificance.

And Constantine read the appeal perfectly, deliberately choosing to ignore it. Did she really expect him to play his heritage down, when it was his son’s heritage, too? His expression didn’t alter.

‘We have white marble, too,’ he continued. ‘Which is exported all over the world. And there are all the other components which are an essential part of Greek life—fruit and honey and olives. Now, look closely as we drive up this road, Alex, and you will see my father’s house.’

House, he had said, noted Laura suddenly, her quibble forgotten as she gazed curiously out of the window. Not home. Did that have any significance? But then she peered out through the window and her breath caught in her throat as the most beautiful place she had ever seen suddenly came into view.

Surrounded by orange and lemon trees, the villa was large and imposing, dominating the landscape while somehow managing to blend into it. It stood almost at the top of the mountain, and the views around it were panoramic. Dark sapphire brush-strokes of a sea threw off a brilliant light, and as Laura opened the car door she could smell the scent of pine and citrus and hear the unfamiliar sound of beautiful birdsong.

‘We’re here,’ said Constantine, as he held his hand out to help Alex down. The boy took it as naturally as breathing.

How easily Alex is learning to trust him, thought Laura—knowing that she should be glad for her son’s sake, and yet unable to prevent the strange spike of envy which tugged at her stomach.

The huge front door opened and a middle-aged woman wearing a floral pinafore dress came out immediately to meet them—as if she had been standing waiting for their arrival.

‘I’ll introduce you to Demetra,’ Constantine said, an odd glint in his eyes. ‘She’s in charge of the staff here—so you’ll be directly answerable to her. Oh, and don’t worry—she speaks excellent English, so you won’t have any problems understanding her instructions, Laura.’

Instructions. Answerable. His words brought Laura tumbling back down to earth with a crash. And with a shock she realised that all the privileges she had been enjoying up until that moment were now about to evaporate. She was to become one of the domestic staff. But that’s what you wanted, she reminded herself painfully. That’s what you insisted on.

At least she had spent the last few evenings poring over a phrasebook—but her usual slowness with reading coupled with the difficulty of the complex Greek language meant that she had retained only a few words. Still, now was the time to start using them.

‘Kalimera,’ she said, with a nervous smile at the older woman.

Demetra’s eyes swept over Laura in rapid assessment, and she said something in Greek to Constantine, to which he made a drawled reply. It seemed to satisfy her, for she nodded and returned the smile.

‘Kalimera, Laura. You are very welcome at Villa Thavmassios.’ Her eyes crinkled fondly as she stared at Alex’s dark curls. ‘And this your boy?’

‘Yes, this is Alex.’ Laura gave a Alex a little push, and to her relief he stepped forward and shook the Greek woman’s hand, just the way she’d taught him to. Demetra gave a delighted exclamation before enfolding him in a bear-hug, and Laura bit back a smile as she saw Alex send her a horrified look of appeal.

‘We bring children from the village to play with you, Alex,’ said Demetra. ‘And my own son is home from university—he is a very fine sports student. He teach you to swim and to fish. You would like that?’

‘Yes, please,’ said Alex shyly, as Demetra finally let him go. She said something else to Constantine, but he shook his head.

‘Ochi,’ he said in negation, and then smiled. ‘Shall I show you to your room now, Alex?’ Then he turned to Laura, almost as if it was an afterthought. ‘And I might as well show you yours,’ he added softly.

Laura tried to tell herself not to react to the unmistakable provocation in those dark eyes—telling herself that nothing was going to happen because she didn’t want anything to happen. But even as she made the silent vow she had to fight to suppress the glimmer of longing which had begun to whisper its way over her skin.

Liar. You know that you want him. That you would give a king’s ransom for his lips to rove all over your naked body.

Laura’s cheeks flushed, and she could feel their colour intensify simply because Constantine was looking at her with that hateful half-smile playing around his lips—as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. As if he knew that her breasts were prickling and her heart racing like a piston. Her fist clenched around the strap of her handbag and she dug her nails into it—as if she were digging them into his rich, silken flesh.

What on earth was going on? Why was she suddenly reacting to him as if she was the kind of woman who was prey to carnal desires, when nothing could be further from the truth?

Nothing.

Why, there hadn’t been a single man in her life since Constantine had sailed away all those years ago—because the truth was that she had never wanted another man in the way she’d wanted him, even if single motherhood didn’t exactly encourage romantic entanglements. But suddenly Laura’s lack of another lover seemed more like a failure rather than anything to be proud of. As if she was one of those pathetic women who had been carrying a flame for a man who’d never even given her a second thought. Who hadn’t even remembered that they’d been lovers!

His voice cut across her thoughts. ‘Ready?’ he questioned.

Forcing a smile, she took Alex’s hand. ‘Let’s go and see your room, darling.’

The villa was cool and huge—it made her Milmouth apartment look like a shoebox—and Laura found herself wondering how long it would take to get her bearings.

Alex’s suitcase had already been brought into a bright room which had been transformed into a small boy’s dream. There was a bookcase filled with any number of books, and a table on which sat a drawing block and a rainbow collection of colouring pens. A giant castle reposed in one corner—with small figures of knights and horses—and a beautiful wooden train-set sat curved and just itching to be put in motion.

Seeing the castle, Alex turned to Constantine with a look of breathless excitement on his face.

‘Did Mum tell you I liked horses?’ he demanded excitedly.

‘I thought that all little boys liked horses,’ answered Constantine solemnly.

‘Can I play with it? Now?’

‘That is what it is there for. You play with it while I show your mama her room—which is just along the corridor—then we will go downstairs and eat something, and later on you can swim. Would you like that?’

Alex’s eyes were like dark, delighted saucers. ‘Oh, yes!’ And he ran over to the castle.

Laura looked up at Constantine, fighting to keep her emotions in check—but, whichever way you looked at it, the Greek tycoon had gone out of his way to make the small boy feel welcome, and she found that she was having to blink back sudden tears. She wanted to say thank you, but the look which had darkened his features into a steely mask was not one which readily invited gratitude.

‘Let’s go,’ said Constantine softly, and Laura’s heart was pounding heavily as they walked along the cool, marbled corridor. She felt like a prisoner whose fate had been sealed, yet she was filled with a terrible kind of excitement when Constantine halted before a door. As he threw it open, all she could see was a bed.

‘What did Demetra say to you outside?’ she questioned quickly, wanting something—anything—to distract her attention from that bed.

‘That you looked too small and too slight for any kind of physical work.’

‘And what did you tell her?’

Constantine paused as he stared down into the stormy beauty of her grey eyes, registering the dormant strength which lay within her petite frame. ‘I told her that you were no stranger to hard work,’ he said unexpectedly.

‘Oh.’ The words caught her off-guard, and Laura found herself feeling ridiculously warmed by the nearest thing to a compliment he’d paid her. She looked up at him, heart racing. ‘Why, thank you—’ But she got no further, because Constantine’s gaze was raking over her face. He took her hand, pulling her inside the bedroom, shutting the door on the rest of the world.

‘Be very clear about this, Laura. I don’t want your thanks,’ he said softly. ‘I want you. This …’ And suddenly he was kissing her with a fervour which sapped the last of her resistance. Her knees sagged and she fell against him as with a low moan he tightened his arms around her, his lips prising hers open with effortless mastery.

It was a frantic, seeking kiss, and for a few seconds Laura gave herself up to it completely. She felt the lick of his tongue exploring hers, the sweet pressure of his mouth as it seemed to plunder deeper and deeper within her mouth—until she felt as if he had stripped her bare with his kiss. Suddenly she was vulnerable. Too vulnerable.

She could feel her breasts begin to prickle as they pushed against the hard wall of his chest, and an unbearable aching clamoured at the fork of her thighs. She wanted him to lift her skirt up. She wanted him to touch her. She wanted …

Had she silently transmitted those wishes to Constantine? Because suddenly he was making them all come true. His hand was impatiently rucking up the cotton of her sundress and splaying with indolent possession over the cool silk of her inner thigh.

‘Constantine,’ she moaned into his mouth, and the sound seemed to incite him.

‘Ah, ne, ne,’ he breathed, as he deepened the kiss, moving his fingertips upwards so that they scorched their way over the moist fabric of her panties and he felt her buck beneath him. Would there be time? he wondered distractedly as his hand moved down to his belt.

Through the hot heat of a fierce sexual hunger which seemed ready to consume her Laura felt the sudden tension in his body, and became graphically aware of his growing hardness. And with a certainty born of instinct rather than experience she saw just where all this was leading. Was that the rasping of a zip she could hear? With a stifled cry of horror and recrimination she tore her lips away and pushed helplessly at the solid wall of his chest, but her head dipped against it for support.

‘We … we mustn’t,’ she breathed against his racing heart. ‘You know we mustn’t.’

Constantine caught his breath before disengaging himself, propelling her away from him as if she had suddenly become poison in his arms. He turned away to adjust his trousers even as hot, sexual hunger coursed round his veins, and it was a moment or two until he had composed himself enough to face her.

And in a way he knew she was right to stop things before they went too far, but—damn her—he didn’t want her to be right! Especially when she was so turned on and struggling to control her breath. He was the one who always controlled the situation, and women the ones who clung to him like limpets as they waited for his command. The whole encounter had lasted only a couple of minutes but fierce frustration made him turn on her.

‘Do you always conduct yourself in such a way?’ he accused hotly. ‘Using your eyes to beg silently for a man to take you when your son is just along the corridor? How many times has he witnessed his mother in an intimate embrace with a man, Laura—tell me that? How many?’

Laura’s mouth opened in an ‘oh’ of protest. ‘Never,’ she breathed fiercely, shaking her head so that her hair flew round it like a cloud. ‘Never, ever.’

‘A woman who turns on as quickly as you do? I don’t believe you,’ he said with soft scorn.

‘Don’t you? Well, that’s your problem, not mine, Constantine—you can believe what you damned well like!’ Injustice bubbled up in her blood to replace the aching fires of frustration. Why should he apportion blame solely to her? Smoothing her hands down over her heated cheeks, she stared at him. ‘You had nothing to do with what just happened, of course—you were just standing there like an innocent while I threw myself at you.’