Contracted For The Petrakis Heir

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Adoni stood in the bedroom doorway, scanning the room as if it could provide a clue to her bizarre behaviour. In his experience women were far more likely to hang around long after you wished they’d left than go too early. Most had that greedy look in their eyes. The one that said they lusted after his body or his money or probably both.

Unease filled him. Was Alice capable of looking after herself alone in London late at night? Should he follow her? She wasn’t drunk any more, he’d never have taken her to bed if she was, but—

His thoughts halted as he spied his wallet on the floor. When he’d shed his clothes it had still been in the pocket of his trousers. Now it lay, splayed open, beside the bed. The side of the bed where Alice had lain, exhausted and emotional.

Apparently exhausted and emotional. For now he stepped closer Adoni saw that not only was his wallet open but one of his credit cards was tugged out of its slot.

He blinked, mind cataloguing the implication of the open wallet. Yet something, a part of him that hankered after the illusion of an honest woman, protested he couldn’t be seeing what he thought.

Adoni picked up the wallet and sank onto the bed. How much cash had been in there earlier? He flicked through the notes. Nothing was obviously missing. But that didn’t mean she hadn’t helped herself to some.

Of more concern was that she’d obviously been rifling his credit cards. They were all there; she hadn’t stolen them.

But maybe she’d made a note of the numbers and security data to use later? She could even have taken an imprint. Who knew what she carried in her bag?

Adoni leaned back against the bedhead, torn between disbelief and anger at himself for being so easily gulled. Women had tried to inveigle their way into his life in so many ways, he’d thought himself awake to them all. Yet he’d allowed Alice Trehearn to slip under his guard.

If that was even her name. Now he thought about it, it sounded a little too sweet and old-fashioned. Made up to allay suspicion?

He raked a hand through his hair. What a bloody fool he’d been! Thinking with his penis while she’d been busy scheming to get her grimy fingers on his money.

You’d think, by thirty-one, he’d be awake to such schemes. Especially given his history. A mother who’d lied shamelessly to both her husband and her son. A fiancée who’d fooled Adoni into believing she loved him then dropped him the moment he was disinherited.

As for the man he’d once called Father...

Truly, it was remarkable Adoni had allowed himself to be conned. He’d learned the hard way not to take people at face value.

Until tonight when a slip of a girl with an endearing smile, an owlish stare and a voracious sensuality had blindsided him.

His mind clicked back to that heady rush of primal, masculine possessiveness. That first slow thrust to Alice’s silken core, when she’d felt as tight and untried as he imagined a virgin would be. Then she’d looked up with wonder in her glazed eyes and something had beaten hard and insistent in his chest. Pleasure and a primitive satisfaction that made him feel as sophisticated as a caveman.

He’d even believed, when her breath caught and her whole body stilled, that perhaps she was a complete innocent. Until her fingers dug into his buttocks and she demanded ‘More!’ in that husky little voice that was the most potent aphrodisiac he knew. That had banished the strange moment of fantasy.

Adoni’s jaw set. He supposed he should be thankful he hadn’t taken longer in the bathroom. If he had he was sure his wallet and his credit cards would have been exactly where he’d left them and he wouldn’t have realised Alice was a thief till large sums disappeared from his accounts.

Alice Trehearn was just another gold-digger who’d set her sights on his fortune.

He breathed out hard, shoulders rising and falling in self-disgust that he’d actually fallen for her scam. She’d better look out if their paths crossed again. He wouldn’t fall for her wiles a second time.

He reached for the phone. It was time to cancel his credit cards.

* * *

‘Sensitive breasts. That was the first sign.’ The woman’s whisper penetrated the hum of the crowded café. ‘Even when I just crossed my arms.’

Alice paused, feeling her eyes widen at the empty cups and plates she was clearing from a nearby table. Her own breasts had felt sensitive for the last couple of days.

Out of all the customer conversations in the room, her tired brain would snag on that one. Any minute now she’d hear that the woman had since been diagnosed with a weird flu or some horrible life-threatening illness. Alice did not need to hear that. She couldn’t afford time off with illness. She had enough trouble making ends meet.

She blinked and tried to focus on her task, wrinkling her nose at the half-drunk coffee she loaded onto her tray. For some reason the scent of coffee, one she usually adored, seemed downright unpleasant today.

‘I didn’t have that at all.’ Another woman spoke. ‘My first sign was cigarette smoke. Every time Jake lit up I gagged. I made him quit smoking, which is just as well when you think about it. But it wasn’t just cigarettes. Coffee too. I couldn’t bear the smell.’

Alice froze, her arm outstretched towards a cake plate.

Was this some hoax? Was she being set up in an elaborate joke?

She shook her head. Tiredness was confusing her. She’d spoken to no one about either of those strange symptoms. It was just coincidence.

Briskly, telling herself she wasn’t listening, she finished stacking the tray.

‘And of course that led to morning sickness.’ It was the second voice again. ‘You don’t know how lucky you were to miss out on that.’

Alice felt the hairs on her nape lift, one by one, till her flesh drew tight. She took a slow, calming breath, its effect spoiled as another waitress walked by with a load of coffees. Alice inhaled the fumes and swallowed convulsively.

She felt clammy now, as if her skin was too tight for her body. Perspiration popped out on her hairline and she swayed.

It took an enormous effort to straighten, supporting the laden tray, and turn towards the kitchen. As she did her gaze turned to the pair who’d been speaking. Both were young and healthy-looking. Both smiling. One had a baby on her knee and the other was so pregnant it was a wonder she managed to fit in the alcove seat.

A tremor racked Alice and she almost dropped the tray.

Pregnancy!

That was what they were talking about?

But Alice couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible.

He’d used a condom!

Of course she wasn’t pregnant. She was only twenty-three. She was just starting to live life for herself. She had no plans for a baby.

It was just coincidence.

A strange, scary coincidence.

But as the morning wore on Alice became more and more conscious of the way her breasts tingled whenever her arm pressed in as she reached for something. She found herself avoiding the coffee machine as much as possible.

By her break, despite some stern self-talk about not leaping to conclusions, Alice found herself in a pharmacy, handing over hard-earned cash for a pregnancy kit.

It couldn’t be. Of course it couldn’t be.

But it was.

Alice stood in the cramped staff washroom and stared at the indicator that told her she was pregnant.

She didn’t slump against the counter. She didn’t squeal with excitement or cry. She didn’t do anything but stare as the implications worked their way into her brain.

She’d experienced so many life-changing events. Alice had learned railing against fate or trying to avoid reality didn’t work.

Her mother had died in a car crash when Alice was twelve. Her father’s injuries in the same smash left him in a wheelchair, needing constant support until he’d died of complications when she was seventeen. At least her godfather, David, had given them a roof over their heads when their money dried up and the house had to go. Then David, as close as family, had been diagnosed with a terminal condition. Alice had been the one to look after him through the prolonged illness till last year when—

Alice shook her head. At least, for a change, the latest crisis in her life wasn’t about death, but about life. Maybe when she got her head around it she’d even be happy.

She stared into the mirror at the wan-faced young woman whose eyes seemed too big for her face.

Fear stirred.

Fear of the unknown. She knew nothing about babies!

Fear about how she’d support a child when she could barely support herself.

And, yes, a blinding moment of frustration and self-pity. Because, as she’d lost the people she loved, she could find only one positive—that now she could begin experiencing those things her peers took for granted. Parties and carefree weekends. Dating. Starting a career. Going to art school, if she could scrape enough money to support herself.

Now art school would be on hold again, perhaps permanently. She’d have to find a way to support her child, plus a career that earned well and had family-friendly hours.

Alice’s mouth twisted at the impossibility of it all.

She grabbed at the counter as another thought struck and her knees gave way.

She’d have to tell him. Adoni Petrakis.

For, she realised, she was having this baby. She didn’t know anything about babies but she was sure she didn’t want a termination.

That was one thing sorted at least.

She tried to smile at her reflection and failed. For she cringed at the idea of confronting Adoni. They were from different worlds. It was a miracle they’d ended up in bed together. He was rich, sophisticated and urbane. She was ordinary and embarrassingly inexperienced. More, she’d been downright gauche that night.

The memory always left her torn between horror at what she’d done and a wish that it had never ended. She could get used to a handsome, sexy man with a sense of humour and an appreciative glint in his eyes. A man who was kind and generous and awakened all sorts of unfamiliar desires.

Just as well she’d peeked into his wallet to check his surname. At the time shame had pushed her to spy because in her alcoholic haze she’d forgotten his last name. She’d been determined to know the full name of the man she’d given her virginity to.

Her crooked smile became a rictus grin, her cheeks aching at the pull of taut flesh.

At least she had a name to put on the birth certificate!

CHAPTER FOUR (#u066b7091-3fd1-590d-9eb4-81aba1c5306f)

‘MR PETRAKIS?’

‘Yes?’ Adoni paused on the way into his London office. He smiled at the temporary assistant filling in for his trusted PA, and watched the young woman blush. He repressed a sigh. The sooner his PA returned the better.

‘I’m sorry to interrupt.’ She glanced to the man beside him. ‘But a woman has been ringing quite a lot, wanting an appointment.’ Adoni heard what might have been a snicker from Miles Dawlish and the temp blushed even more. ‘But her name isn’t on the approved list.’

‘Then she doesn’t get an appointment.’ Adoni turned and gestured for Dawlish to precede him into the office. He didn’t like the man but the deal he offered was interesting enough to warrant Adoni’s personal attention.

‘It’s just that...’ He swung round to find the temp biting her lip. He waited, reining in impatience. She leaned forward, her voice dropping. ‘She said it was personal. And that it was vital she see you.’

Adoni felt his eyebrows wing up. How difficult was it to get a competent replacement for his sick PA? Surely any assistant worth the name understood the meaning of ‘no unapproved meetings’?

The woman’s gaze dropped and she fiddled with the notebook on her desk, the picture of guilt. She looked so nervous he almost felt sorry for her.

‘What name did she give?’ he asked, determined not to scare off another temp.

‘Alice Trehearn. She was very insistent. It sounded...important.’ The woman looked up, relief in her eyes, but Adoni barely noticed.

Alice Trehearn?

Unbidden, memory unfolded like a bud bursting into bloom. Skin as pale as ivory. A lithe body that responded to him like an instrument tuned to his touch. Lips like crushed berries, sweet and reddened from his kisses.

A mouth that lied. A woman who’d targeted him and played him for a fool.

Yet, even as he opened his mouth to say there’d be no meeting, curiosity rose. What did Alice hope to gain from seeing him? She must have tried his card numbers without success. Was she hoping to seduce him into giving her something else?

The idea of Alice Trehearn trying to seduce him again was undeniably titillating. Especially as Adoni had no intention of letting her get her greedy claws on anything of his. It might be amusing to have sex with her again, purely to finalise unfinished business. Ever since that night a month and a half ago he’d been plagued by the realisation that he still wanted her, despite the fact she was on the make.

Sex with Alice Trehearn still appealed. Almost as much as wiping the smile off her face afterwards when he told her he was awake to her schemes and she’d never get a penny of his.

Adoni smiled at his temp and didn’t even mind when the woman blushed and smiled dazedly back.

‘Tell her I’ll see her. As soon as possible. Here in my office.’

‘Oh, but she wondered if you could meet—’

‘Here.’ Adoni paused, his smile fading. ‘Tomorrow. Or not at all.’ Then he strode into his office where Miles Dawlish stood. Adoni gestured for him to take a seat.

‘I couldn’t help but overhear,’ the Englishman began. ‘I know an Alice Trehearn too. She was at the wedding reception where you and I met. I wondered if it could be the same woman.’

Adoni didn’t respond, but took a seat opposite. He had no intention of sharing his personal life. If it weren’t for Dawlish’s property, Adoni wouldn’t waste time with the man. Adoni knew his sort—convinced the world owed him a living. Ready to sell off his inheritance, a truly superb estate, for ready cash.