Page 41 of The Greek Tycoon's Unwilling Wife

‘Credit me with a little intelligence. It’s either one thing or the other. What other possible explanation could there be?’

The fact that she was head over heels in love with him, crazy about him in a way that made her a fool to herself, weakened all her defences and left her totally vulnerable where he was concerned. That she hadn’t been able to say no to the thought of being with him just one last time.

‘A mad moment?’ she said flippantly, trying desperately to distract him from the way that he was thinking. ‘After all, we were always good—great together that way. You said it yourself—no one ever made you as hot as I do.’

The way his black brows drew together in a dark frown alerted her to the fact that she’d said something he didn’t like. And she winced inwardly as she realised just what it was.

He’d flung those exact words at her in the appalling row on the day of their marriage, destroying all her hopes and dreams in one blow.

I married you for sex—for that and nothing else. No other woman has ever made me feel as hot as you do.

‘A mad moment, hmm…’

He had come too close. If she was not careful, then surely he would see the truth in her face, read it at the backs of her eyes.

‘Mad, certainly, but not totally crazy.’

Andreas flung himself down into the chair opposite and sprawled back against the cushions, long legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, elbows resting on the chair arms, long fingers steepled together under his chin.

‘Which is what you’d have to be to have come here just for that.’

His brilliant black gaze seemed to sear into her skull, trying to pull out the truth whether she was prepared to give it to him or not.

‘My, you do think a lot of yourself, don’t you?’ Becca used defiance to try to hide the way she was really feeling. ‘Do you really think that I’d travel all this way just for a quick tumble into bed with you?’

‘No.’

Andreas’ wickedly slow smile told her how easily she had fallen into the trap he had dug right at her feet. ‘I really do not think that—which is why I keep asking the question that you seem to want to go to any lengths possible to avoid. You’re not drinking your coffee,’ he added in a way that sounded like an afterthought but which left Becca very much afraid that he knew exactly why she wasn’t drinking.

‘I don’t fancy it.’

‘The coffee or telling me why you’re here?’

‘Either, if you must know!’

She really had to stop trying to be flippant. It was getting her nowhere and was obviously starting to rile him. The way that he compressed his lips into a thin, hard line told her that he was fighting to hold back the sort of acid retort that would be capable of flaying half the skin from her ears just to hear it.

‘So what is it you have to hide?’

‘Nothing—it’s just…’

‘Rebecca!’ Andreas’ tone was low, almost soft, but it was the softness of the hiss of a hooded python, just before it struck with deadly force, and it made Becca flinch inwardly simply to hear it. ‘Tell me…tell me now why you are here or pack your bags and get out of my life—and this time make it for good.’

If she did that then she would never be able to help Daisy—and she would never be able to see him ever again. Right now, Becca couldn’t begin to think which of those two possibilities hurt most. But then the truth was that when her heart was one mass of pain, how could she tell if any one particular spot was worse than any other?

‘Can’t you guess?’ she muttered, low and uneven.

‘I want you to tell me,’ Andreas returned, face rigid, expression unyielding.

‘Isn’t it obvious?’ she no longer cared if she sounded desperate; it was how she felt. ‘You always said I’d come back for money and—well, here I am.’

‘You came for money?’ He actually sounded—what? He couldn’t be disappointed but that was the note that was in his voice.

‘Don’t sound so surprised, Andreas—you always knew this would happen! You should have made that bet you wanted—the one where you said that I’d come looking for cash before the year was up. Because you’d have been right. Here I am and it’s money I’m after.’

It was the only way she could get it out. She couldn’t go on her knees and beg. And for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to talk about Daisy—not yet. She didn’t feel strong enough, brave enough, to open herself up to him like that. Not after all that had happened and the brutal damage he had inflicted on her heart. So she’d gone on to the attack, wanting to lash out, repay hurt with hurt.

‘Money for what?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘To me it does.’

‘But you’ve been proved right. That should give you immense satisfaction. I’ve shown myself to be the greedy—’

‘It gives me no satisfaction,’ Andreas cut in, cold and flat. ‘No satisfaction at all. If you want the truth I would rather you had stayed away for ever than that you turned up here like this—for this.’

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