His Love-Child. Jacqueline Baird

Theo. Which was a galling admission to make, but true… As for the rest, she had brought a skirt and three summer dresses, plus, mindful of the inclement nature of the British weather, a pair of jeans and a sweater.

      June in Greece was a lot hotter than it was at home, and this house and its inhabitants were a lot more elegant than the little hotel she had intended staying in, she thought dryly.

      Taking one of the dresses from the hanger, she slipped it on. It was Indian cotton dyed in a swirling pattern of blues and greens, sleeveless with a low square neck. It had a pin-tucked bodice and a long flowing skirt that ended mid-calf. It was a style she favoured—easy wash, easy wear—and not very expensive. She crossed to the dressing table and sat down, and for a brief moment she felt like putting her head in her hands and having a good cry.

      She did not fit in in this house or in this lifestyle of great wealth and private jets. But she had a growing conviction her beloved Stephen would very quickly adapt, and where would that leave her then? Married to Theo if he had his way. It didn’t bear thinking about.

      So instead she followed her familiar pattern and tried to ignore the problem. She plucked her hairbrush from her toilet bag, and swept her hair back and secured it at the nape of her neck with a multicoloured enamelled slide. An application of moisturiser to her pale face and she was ready. She slipped her feet into a pair of flat tan leather sandals, and left the bedroom.

      The house was silent and dim behind the closed shutters of the landing and stairs, but there was no mistaking the opulence of the place. A magnificent marble staircase was the centre feature, leading down to a huge circular hall with an exquisite mosaic-tiled floor depicting an ancient Greek myth. Elegant marble columns flanked four huge double doors and Willow paused for a moment, not sure which way to go. The sound of voices led her towards a partially open door, and, walking through, she found herself in a large but surprisingly comfortable-looking room.

      A huge colourful rug complemented a ceramic-tiled floor. Big squashy sofas were set around a fireplace at one end, and possibly the biggest television set she had ever seen filled another corner. A few assorted chairs, occasional tables, a desk, and a heavy wood cabinet holding an array of drinks made up the rest of the furnishings.

      ‘We thought you had got lost.’ Theo’s deep, dark drawl had her head turning towards the huge glass doors that opened out onto the terrace.

      ‘I wish I could,’ she muttered. He was standing three feet away, but at least he had put some shorts on, she noted, her mouth running dry. With the light behind him his huge black shadow seemed to be reaching out to swallow her whole, and inexplicably she shivered.

      ‘You don’t mean that, Willow. You would hate to be parted from our son.’ He stepped towards her. ‘From what I have seen he is a happy, well-balanced little boy and he adores you. As for you and I—our marriage can be as good as you want to make it.’ He looked at her with amusement and something more in his black eyes. ‘We both know the sex is great, which is a very good place to start.’

      ‘Is that all you ever think about?’ Willow shot back. ‘I have a job, a home and a life I love and for the umpteenth time I am not going to marry you, Theo. Stephen and I are here for a week’s holiday, full stop.’

      ‘You can write anywhere in the world, Willow, and I am not an ogre—you can keep your home. It will make a nice holiday cottage, but that is all. Anything else you need I will provide.’

      ‘I don’t need anyone to provide for me,’ she snapped. He was like a juggernaut ignoring every refusal she put in his path, and blithely carrying on. ‘I can do that on my own.’

      He cast her a slow assessing look. ‘I know,’ he agreed. ‘Stephen is a credit to you, and you have proved your ability to succeed in life to the whole world, but it must have been hard work. Now it is time for you to relinquish the reins a little, relax, and, how do you say it? Smell the roses.’ His firm lips quirked at the corners and he smiled down at her. ‘Stop creating problems where there are none, Willow. Now I have to dress, but my mother is waiting to meet you again, and don’t worry—she is so entranced with Stephanos that all is forgiven.’

      Stephanos. It was happening already, the Kadros takeover of her son, Willow thought, fear and anger making her voice sharp. ‘His name is Stephen, and I have nothing to be forgiven for,’ she said determinedly, straightening her shoulders. ‘However, you could take a look at your own behaviour.’ She attempted to walk past him, but steely fingers closed around her arm.

      She tried to wrench free, but in a heartbeat she was spun around and enfolded in a tight embrace. The shock of being pressed against his bare chest, all sleek, rippling muscle, made her gasp. ‘Let me go.’

      ‘We have an audience, so be quiet and listen.’ Theo stared down into her face, his own hard. ‘Your one saving grace is that you named our son Stephen; my father’s name was Stephanos. My mother is a religious woman and she is a great believer in fate. She is convinced your naming our son Stephen was God’s will and therefore she forgives you for not making him known to us sooner. But understand this,’ he commanded with icy force, ‘I am nowhere near as forgiving as my mother and if you do anything at all to upset her I will make you wish you were never born.’

      ‘As if I would,’ Willow said with a negative shake of her dark head. This man did not know her at all. But even as he threatened her she was intensely aware of the clean, male scent of him, and she felt her breasts hardening at the close contact with his massive chest. Tensing, she raised her hands between their two bodies in the hope of pushing him away. ‘And for your information Stephen was named after the ambulance driver who delivered him,’ she told him bluntly.

      His dark head suddenly jerked back and his hold on her loosened as he stared down at her with incredulous black eyes. ‘An ambulance driver—what on earth for?’

      Willow took the chance to escape, and stepped back quickly. ‘Figure it out for yourself. You’re so smart.’

      ‘Wait a minute.’ She was hauled back by a strong arm snaking around her waist, and the chill in Theo’s dark eyes was now pronounced. ‘Was he a lover?’

      The total incongruity of his question made her laugh out loud. ‘Hardly.’ She lifted sparkling blue eyes to his. ‘In fact, I might have put the poor young man off sex for life. It was his first week in the job when I called for an ambulance because the birth was imminent. Unfortunately by the time the ambulance arrived it was too late. Stephen had to deliver my baby in the bedroom.’

      Theo’s arm fell from her waist and he stared down at her in shock. ‘A man…? A complete stranger…?’ He shook his dark head incredulously.

      Willow grinned; she had succeeded in leaving him speechless. Spinning around, she walked along the terrace to where a circular table was set for breakfast under the shade of a huge parasol. Mrs Kadros was already there, sitting next to Stephen, a beaming smile on her face.

      ‘Ah, Willow, good morning. Please sit down. You have no idea how happy you have made me.’

      ‘Good morning, Mrs Kadros,’ she said rather nervously.

      ‘Oh, no, dear, please, you must call me Judy. And I shall call you Willow. I was born and brought up in America so we don’t stand on ceremony here. Though sometimes my beloved Stephanos used to despair of my open ways, but I always found ways to reassure him,’ she said with a slightly naughty chuckle.

      ‘Then good morning again, Judy.’ Willow grinned. There was something infectious about the older woman’s humour, and her first name was refreshingly more American than Greek. Pulling out a chair, Willow sat down on the opposite side of her son. ‘I must thank you for having Stephen and I stay for a short holiday.’ She felt better having clarified the situation with Judy. Willow was not going to marry her son, whatever Theo thought.

      ‘My pleasure.’ Judy smiled and leaned over and filled the coffee-cup at Willow’s place setting. She then beckoned to the young Greek maid standing a few feet away, and said in an aside, ‘Fresh coffee, please, Marta,’ and, grinning back at Willow, she asked, ‘Now, what would you like to