Constantine's Defiant Mistress Page 12

  ‘She was years younger than my father—decades, in fact. A beautiful, fragile beauty who bewitched him—and because he was almost fifty when they married her youth and her beauty hit him like a hurricane. When a man has never known passion until late in life it can take him over like a fever.’ He shrugged. ‘He neglected everything in pursuit of a love she was ill-equipped to return—but then she was incapable of loving anyone but herself.’

  ‘Even you?’ said Laura slowly.

  Her question broke into the tumult of his thoughts, but Constantine was in too far to stop now. ‘Even me,’ he answered, and the admission was like a hammer blow—for was there not something almost shameful about admitting that the most fundamental bond of all, between mother and child, had simply not existed in their case? But the precise side of Constantine’s nature meant that he needed to attempt to define it.

  ‘She was one of those people who did not seem to be of this earth—she was too fey and too delicate, and she did not look after herself,’ he continued. ‘She partied and drank wine instead of eating—smoked cigarettes instead of breathing in the pure Greek air. And when she died her enchantment still did not end—for my father went to pieces. He became one of those men who are obsessed by a ghost and who live in a past which only really exists in their own imagination. It was only when I took over the business properly that I was able to see just how badly he had let things go.’

  Laura stared at his hard and beautiful features, transformed now into a mask hardened by pain and memory. So even his father had not been there for him—which explained the lack of closeness between the two men. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said simply.

  He turned, angry with her, but far angrier with himself for having unleashed some of the dark secrets of his soul. ‘I do not want your sympathy,’ he snapped.

  ‘But I think that—’

  ‘And neither do I want your advice—no matter how well intentioned! You are a woman from humble circumstances who knows nothing of this life of privilege which you have entered solely because you are the mother of my son! And you would do well to remember your place here!’

  Laura reached for her sunglasses and rammed them down over her eyes before he could see the tears which were brimming up behind her lids. Remember your place here. How cheap did that make her feel? His words were barely any different from her own thoughts about them occupying different worlds—but, oh, how it hurt to hear them flung at her with such venom. He didn’t like women, she realised—and, while it was easy to see why, it wasn’t going to change, was it? Nothing she said would ever change it.

  She saw Alex begin to stir—had their low but angry words wakened him? she wondered guiltily. But her primary feeling was of relief that she would no longer have to endure any more hurt provoked by Constantine’s cruel comments. And she would protect herself from further heartache by staying as far away from him as possible.

  ‘I think in view of what’s just been said that we should try to avoid each other as much as possible while I’m still here,’ she whispered.

  Constantine’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you crazy?’ he questioned silkily, and without warning he splayed his hand over the sun-warmed expanse of her thigh, watching with triumph as her lips parted involuntarily in a soundless little gasp of pleasure. He lowered his voice. ‘We may as well enjoy the one good, satisfactory thing which men and women do give each other. And—just for the record—I’ve done nothing but work in Athens; there have been no other women.’ His black eyes gleamed with predatory anticipation. ‘To be perfectly frank, your passion has left me unable to think of any other woman but you, agape mou.’

  ‘And should I be flattered by that?’ she questioned bitterly.

  ‘I think perhaps you should,’ he murmured.

  But Laura was already scrambling to her feet and packing up the picnic basket.

  ‘Oh, and Laura?’ he said softly.

  She looked up, some new steely quality in his voice warning her that what he was about to say would be more than another remark about their sexual chemistry. ‘What?’

  ‘I think it’s about time we told Alex who I really am, don’t you?’

  Laura bit her lip. She had known this would happen, and it was happening sooner than she had hoped. But what was the point in delaying any more? Wouldn’t that look as if they were hiding something shameful rather than giving them the opportunity to bond? Just because change was disrupting—and just because Laura was afraid of how telling Alex might affect their lives—it didn’t mean that she could keep putting it off because it suited her.

  ‘And your father?’ she said softly. ‘He’ll need to know, too. Alex shouldn’t be expected to keep the news to himself.’

  In the end, the moment for telling Alex came quite naturally later that afternoon, when the three of them were sitting in the main town square of Livinos. Alex was eating ice-cream—an elaborate concoction of lemon and chocolate curls—and it seemed that every island resident stopped to ruffle his dark curls as they passed by.

  ‘Why does everyone keep patting my head?’ he questioned, not unhappily. ‘And what do they keep saying to you?’

  ‘By and large, the Greek people love having children around,’ said Constantine, and Laura felt her heart lurch as she thought about his own mother. But he’s told you quite emphatically that he doesn’t want your sympathy, she reminded herself.

  ‘Some of the older ones say that you look very much as I did at the same age,’ added Constantine carefully.

  ‘Do I?’

  There was a pause. ‘Very much so,’ said Constantine gruffly, and then he looked across the table at Laura. She nodded. ‘Do you have any idea why that might be?’

  To Laura’s surprise, Alex didn’t answer straight away—just glanced from Constantine, to her, and then back to Constantine again. His dark eyes fixed on his father’s face, a look of hope and longing tightening his boyish little features.

  ‘Are you my daddy?’ he asked.

  Had it been the spoonful of ice-cream Alex had insisted on giving him which had caused this damned lump in his throat, making him momentarily incapable of words? Constantine swallowed. ‘Yes, I am,’ he said eventually.

  There was no Hollywood movie scene of the son flinging himself onto his father’s lap—that would have been too much in the circumstances. As they began to walk back towards the villa, Laura noticed Alex’s fingers creep up towards the hand of the man by his side. And that Constantine took his son’s little hand and was clasping it firmly, while looking fixedly ahead and blinking furiously, as if some piece of grit had just flown into his eye.

  That evening, Constantine—with Laura standing nervously by his side—told his father that the Karantinos family did indeed have an heir, and that he had a grandson.

  The old man stared at his son for a long moment and then gave a short laugh. ‘You think I haven’t already guessed that?’ he questioned quietly. ‘That you could bring a young child into this house out of the blue, with some flimsy excuse about him and his mother needing a holiday, a child who is the mirror-image of you at the same age, and that I would not realise that he was yours?’

  Laura tried not to stare as she felt emotion build up like a gathering storm. She saw the old man take one tentative step forward, and silently willed the two men to embrace—to try to wipe out some of the heartache and bitterness which had built up between them. But Constantine took a corresponding step backwards—a step so subtle that many people would not have noticed. But Laura noticed. Damn you, Constantine, she thought furiously. Damn you and your hard and unforgiving soul. And his father noticed, too—for the lined face momentarily crumpled before he turned to look at her and nodded.

  ‘You have a fine child in Alex, my dear. A happy and contented son for you to be proud of.’

  ‘Th-thank you,’ said Laura tremulously. ‘It may seem odd to you that we kept it secret, but—’

  Kyrios Karantinos shook his head. ‘I can understand that circumstances may have been difficult,�
� he said gently. ‘For I am not a complete ogre.’ This was accompanied by a mocking glance at the silent figure of Constantine. ‘Far better to approach things cautiously than to dive in. And Alex—he is happy to learn of the news?’

  ‘He’s ecstatic,’ said Laura truthfully. As far as Alex was concerned it was Constantine this and Constantine that. Constantine had quickly become the centre of the impressionable young boy’s universe. She’d watched the relationship developing between them and seen how badly her boy wanted a father—a man as a role-model. And Constantine never showed his fierce side with Alex, realised Laura.

  ‘We must have a party to celebrate!’ announced Kyrios Karantinos suddenly. ‘We could invite some people over from the mainland. It’s a long time since we’ve thrown a big party.’

  And, to Laura’s surprise, Constantine nodded.

  ‘Why not?’ he questioned, with a shrug of his broad shoulders.

  Laura turned away before either of them noticed the conflict of emotions she suspected were criss-crossing over her face, knowing that it was wrong to feel scared—but she did.

  Despite their differences, the two proud men were gearing themselves up to announce to the world that the Karantinos family now had an heir—and the importance of such an heir to such a family could not be over-estimated. But aside from the bloodline issue there was something else which was just as important…and deep-down Laura hoped that Constantine and his father might be making the first steps towards a true reconciliation.

  But where did that leave her? And Alex? She wanted him to forge a close relationship with both his father and his grandfather—of course she did. It was just the future which worried her now. Because how on earth were they going to handle it when she took Alex back to England at the end of the holidays? When he left sunshine and luxury behind him and returned to an old life which was looking greyer by the minute?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘WHAT the hell are you doing?’ demanded Constantine as he walked into the kitchen.

  ‘What does it look like?’ questioned Laura steadily, finding herself in the awkward situation of having to pretend to be normal and pleasant to Constantine in a situation which defied definition—made doubly difficult by the fact that she had been writhing passionately underneath the man in question in the early hours of that very morning. Pushing the erotic memory from her mind, she positioned another olive on one of the little feta tartlets, wanting to look at something—anything—other than the mocking distraction of his black eyes.

  ‘Laura, put the damned dish down and look at me!’

  Laura complied—knowing that if she didn’t want to create discord then she didn’t really have a lot of choice. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Why…?’ He drew a deep breath. ‘Why are you helping out in the kitchen?’

  ‘Because we both agreed that would be my role here.’

  ‘No, Laura,’ he said heavily. ‘You insisted on it and I was railroaded into agreeing.’

  ‘That must have been a first,’ she said gravely.

  Unwillingly, his mouth twitched. ‘Very probably,’ he agreed, before the sight of her beautiful body in that hideous-looking floral pinafore made the smile die instantly. ‘I don’t want you doing any more of this kind of work in the house and neither does my father. It is no longer appropriate. You are Alex’s mother—and at the party tonight you will be introduced to the people of Livinos as such, not serving damned pastries to the guests!’

  ‘But won’t…?’ She could feel her heart racing with nerves. How would the Karantinos family’s friends and neighbours accept her—a pale little English waitress—as the mother of the Karantinos heir?

  ‘Won’t what?’

  ‘Won’t people think it strange? I mean, it’s a small island. Everyone’s going to want to know why I’ve been working here and now suddenly I’ve been revealed as the mystery mother. Why, even Demetra’s been dying to ask, but she’s so loyal to you and your father that she wouldn’t dare.’

  ‘I do not care what other people think,’ he iced back. ‘It is what I think that matters.’

  ‘If you knew just how arrogant that sounded—’

  His black eyes glittered. ‘You didn’t seem to be complaining about my arrogance when I ordered you to strip for me last night, agape mou. In fact, you told me that you had never been so turned on in your life.’

  Laura flushed. Well, no—but characteristics which worked well within the bedroom did not always work in everyday life. ‘Oh, very well,’ she said quickly, in an effort to change the subject. ‘I’ll come to the party—if you insist.’

  Fleetingly, it struck him as ironic that she—of all people—should sound as if she were conferring upon him a favour, when just about every other female of his acquaintance would have bitten his hand off for an invitation to what would be an undeniably glittering event.

  ‘You will, of course, need something to wear.’

  Laura felt her body stiffen with tension. ‘What’s the matter with the clothes I brought with me?’ she questioned defensively. ‘Too small-town and humble for the Karantinos family? Is that it?’

  ‘Frankly, yes,’ he drawled, his eyes mocking her as she took an angry step towards him. ‘Ne, just try it,’ he murmured. ‘Go on, Laura. Jab an angry finger at my chest and we both know what will happen. Except that it won’t, because we can’t—since Alex is having a chess lesson with my father just along the hall and Demetra is getting half the women in the village to bake bread for her. That is why I’m not able to ravish you here in the kitchen, or by the pool—or anywhere else for that matter.’ He paused and he gave the flicker of a smile. ‘So maybe you’ll lose that indignation when I tell you about the dresses I’ve bought for you.’

  Laura stared at him. ‘You’ve…bought me dresses?’

  He nodded as he met her uncomprehending look with one of his own. Didn’t all women like to be bought beautiful dresses? he wondered. In his experience, the more money you lavished on a female, the more she adored you for it. ‘When I was in Athens I took the opportunity to pick some up. You see, I knew that this kind of situation was bound to arise at some time, and that you’d need to look the part of a Karantinos woman.’

  Her heart raced with anger and shame and hurt. Look the part? Because she was playing a role instead of being the real thing? Of course she was—or that would be how Constantine saw it.

  The arrogant swine! He had bought her finery with his millions so that she would blend in, had he? Well, for once in her life—she would make sure she did the exact opposite and stand out at his wretched party!

  ‘How very kind of you,’ she said, mock-demurely, and saw him frown. ‘I’ll go and look at them.’

  ‘No. Not now,’ he said softly, and caught her wrist, bringing it up to his lips and whispering them against the fine tracery of veins which clothed the thready hammering of her pulse.

  Just that brief touch weakened her, and Laura swayed and closed her eyes. ‘Don’t,’ she whispered. ‘You’ve just said yourself that the house is full of people.’

  ‘Which is why we’re going for a drive.’

  Laura swallowed. ‘Alex—’

  ‘Is fine with my father. I’ve checked. Now, take off that damned pinafore and let’s get going.’

  Minutes later they were zipping their way along an isolated coastal road in a little silver sports car she hadn’t seen before. ‘Where exactly,’ she questioned, ‘are we going?’

  ‘You’ll see.’

  The wind whipped through her hair and Laura felt ridiculously light-hearted. ‘Suddenly you’re an international man of mystery?’

  ‘If that’s what you’d like me to be,’ he declared evenly, but her bright mood had affected him too, and he smiled.

  Their destination turned out to be a beautiful stone house set back from the beach—but its simple beauty went unnoticed because they were barely inside the door before Constantine started kissing her and tugging at the zip of her dress.

  ‘Aren’t you g
oing to…show me around?’ she gasped.

  ‘Aren’t you?’ he countered, and then closed his eyes as his fingers found her soft breasts. ‘Come on, Laura. Show me around your body, oreos mou, show me deep inside your body—for that is the only place I want to go right now.’

  His erotic words only spurred on Laura’s own frantic desire. Half-clothed, they sank onto the marble floor—its cool surface contrasting perfectly with his hot flesh as it covered hers, their gasps morphing into ecstatic shuddered cries which split the silence.

  Afterwards, they lay there—both with a fine dew of sweat drying on their skin—and Constantine stroked the mass of blonde hair which clouded her shoulders.

  ‘Hot?’

  ‘Boiling.’

  ‘Fancy a swim?’ he questioned idly.

  Lazily, she stirred against his body, and yawned. ‘I didn’t bring a costume.’

  Regarding her discarded panties, he splayed his hand possessively over one bare, warm globe of her bottom. ‘Who says you’ll need one? You can swim naked, my beauty.’

  ‘Providing fodder for any passing voyeurs?’ she said primly, even though she shivered beneath his touch and at the blatantly untrue compliment which had sprung from his lips.

  Constantine laughed. ‘It’s utterly private and we won’t be observed by a soul,’ he said softly. ‘That’s why I brought us here. To see your body by daylight—for I am tired of having to be furtive. Of having to sneak into your room at night as if we are committing some sort of crime. I want the freedom to cry out when I come, and to watch while you do, too. To watch you walk around unfettered. I want to have sex with you in the sea, Laura,’ he said thickly. ‘Oreos mou, I want to have sex with you all day long—until our bodies are exhausted and our appetites sated.’

  It wasn’t the most romantic declaration she had ever heard, but it echoed Laura’s own haunting desire for him. With her body she could show him her passion, even if her heart and her lips were prevented from giving voice to it. You could love a man with your lips in a different way than using them to tell him, she thought. And Constantine was right—the freedom to behave without constraint was completely intoxicating…