Contracted For The Petrakis Heir. Annie West

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

      ‘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.