There was a fraction of a pause. ‘How does next week sound?’ he said softly.
Her head snapped up. ‘Next week?’ The words made her feel giddy, but she could hardly back down now. ‘That sounds fine. But won’t it be a problem, going somewhere at such short notice?’
His eyes didn’t leave hers. ‘It won’t be a problem at all. You see, I have an island—near Greece—and a plane to take us there.’
His mouth curled at the corners, his smile knocking the air out of her lungs.
‘All you have to do is pack.’
CHAPTER FOUR
‘LOOK, MOMMY, LOOK!’
Glancing up from the magazine lying open on her lap, Teddie smiled across the cabin to where George was waving a toy car at her.
‘I can see, darling. Oh, wow!’
She made a suitably impressed face as he made the car fly up and then crash land on the headrest of his chair.
Over the top of her son’s dark head her eyes met Aristo’s, and quickly she looked away, not quite ready to share the moment with him.
She was still coming to terms with the fact that she was sitting on a private jet that was flying above the Atlantic Ocean. Obviously it had been her idea that they take a holiday. But, aside from her foreshortened honeymoon in St Bart’s, she’d only ever been on day trips away. Now she was on her way to Greece! And not to the mainland but a private island—Aristo’s island.
Out of the corner of her eye she could just see his smooth dark head, his black hair and light gold skin gleaming in the sunlit cabin. He was dressed casually, in jeans and some kind of fine-knit grey sweater, but he still exuded the same compelling air of authority and self-assurance.
She felt her heart beat faster. Everything was moving so fast. A part of her was glad about that, for if she’d had longer to think she would probably have been paralysed with indecision. And yet something about the speed with which everything had been set in motion made her feel uneasy.
Tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear, she gazed meditatively out of the window at the horizon.
No doubt some of that feeling was down to being suddenly confronted by the true scale of Aristo’s wealth. Four years ago his empire had been in its infancy—now, though, evidence of the Leonidas billions was visible everywhere, from his chauffeur-driven limousine to the powerfully built men in identical dark suits who had accompanied him onto the plane and were now seated at the other end of the cabin, studiously examining their phone screens.
She glanced over to where George and Aristo were playing with a sturdy wooden garage. It had been a gift from Aristo, supposedly to help occupy George during the long flight to Greece, but she had sensed that, more importantly for Aristo, it was an opportunity to connect with his son.
Her throat tightened. He could give George anything he wanted and, although she knew her son was happy and contented with his life, he was just as susceptible to the excitement of new toys or a promised trip on a speedboat as any other child. What would happen as he grew up? What if George chose to live with his glamorous, prosperous father?
One day he would have to choose because, whatever Aristo might think, she had no intention of marrying him again—ever.
Beneath the magazine, her hands balled into fists. Don’t go there, she told herself, letting her long dark hair fall in front of her face. But it was too late. Like a dog proudly retrieving a stick for its owner, her brain had revealed the real reason why the haste and impulsiveness of this holiday had got under her skin.
She and Aristo had first got together after a particularly demanding week for her, and a charity dinner that she’d thought would never end. Aristo had been a guest at one of the tables.
Aged twenty-two, she’d had boyfriends, but never fallen in love, and she certainly hadn’t been intending to fall in love that night. Even now she still wasn’t quite sure how it had happened. Just that there had been something about the tilt of his head and the intensity of his gaze that had jolted her.
She’d picked him out to be her ‘assistant’, correctly identifying the card he’d chosen and then pickpocketing his watch.
Of course he’d had to come to the bar to retrieve it, and then he’d stayed, and when the bar staff had started to clear up around them she had leaned forward and kissed him.
He’d kissed her back, and she’d taken his hand and led him upstairs to her room. They’d only just made it.
That first time had been fast, abandoned and fully clothed. The second time too. When finally they’d managed to undress, and were lying naked and spent in one another’s arms, she had already been half in love with him.
To her surprise, they’d carried on seeing one another—meeting in hotels across America whenever his frequent trips abroad and her show schedule had permitted them to do so. And then, less than two months after they’d met, he’d surprised her in Las Vegas and said the words that had changed the course of her life.
‘You can’t keep on living out of a suitcase and I can’t wait any longer—for you to be my wife.’
Given the example set by her parents, marriage had been the last thing on her mind, and yet she hadn’t hesitated.
Her chest tightened. And look how that had turned out.