The Drakos Affair: The Pregnancy Shock. Lynne Graham

a great deal of time with adults and his childhood as such had been short-lived. His father had been taking him on guided tours of super tankers and oil refineries by the age of five. Independent though Alexei was, his parents’ deaths had left him like a ship without a rudder.

      Billie showed Lady Marina, the tall and imposing daughter of a countess, into the most spacious guest suite. ‘How is my nephew?’ the old lady asked fondly.

      ‘He’s coping very well—’

      ‘Which for a Drakos male means he’s not coping at all,’ Marina interposed with a shake of her elegant white head. ‘Constantine always froze too when an emotional response was demanded. Is Alexei using work as an escape?’

      Billie folded her lips and nodded.

      ‘Alexei’s in shock. Drakos men aren’t used to problems that they can’t solve, situations they can’t fix. He needs to go wild for a while, get it all out of his system. Holding it all in is unhealthy.’

      Billie almost smiled at that unlikely idea because, while the tabloids might once have depicted the fabulously wealthy Drakos heir as a wild, undisciplined playboy, Billie had learned that even though Alexei might break the rules and flout the conventions he always acted with forethought and he never, ever relinquished control. He also rejoiced in nerves of steel and the sensitivity of a granite block.

      But what she saw later that evening when Alexei had abandoned his social mask shook that conviction. Unable to find him to pass on news of an unexpected movement on the NewYork Stock Exchange, she finally ran him to ground in the special conservatory that housed his mother’s prized collection of tropical orchids. She hovered outside, watching him through the glass as he stood there and trailed a long lean finger down the stem of a white waxen bloom. He had never had any interest in the flowers that had fascinated his Russian mother, and neither had his late father. Indeed both men had regularly teased Natasha about her obsession. But, for all that, a year ago Alexei had financed an Amazonian plant collectors’ trip, which had resulted in his mother having a newly discovered orchid named after her. Natasha had been thrilled beyond belief at having such an honour conferred on her.

      Billie’s gaze flicked up to Alexei’s bold brown profile and froze at the sight of the glisten of moisture highlighting his hard cheekbones. Silent tears were rolling down his face. She could taste his sadness, his regret for times past never to be regained. Her throat thickened, her own eyes wet, and she looked hurriedly away, feeling that she could not possibly intrude on so intensely private a moment in which he believed himself alone and unobserved. But, oh, how she longed for the right to push open that door and hurry to his side to offer him comfort! But freedom of expression was not part of her role and she reluctantly walked away while scolding herself for having underestimated the depth of Alexei’s loss and his feelings. His tough self-discipline had fooled even her, persuading her that he was totally in control and that business would pretty much go on as usual. Why else had she chased him down to talk about his US Stocks? She left a note on his desk but it was a long time before she got to sleep that night because she was far too busy wondering when Alexei had last slept.

      The following day was an extremely busy one for Billie. The security precautions to ensure the interments remained private were rigorous. Constantine and Natasha were laid to rest in the walled cemetery behind the village church. Alexei, who always rose highest to a challenge, shook off the moodiness and silences of the day before to act as gracious host at the villa. Special travelling arrangements had been put in place to enable the guests to leave in good time for their flights home.

      Once everyone was gone, an unearthly silence spread through the house because most of the staff was now off duty as well. Billie went off in search of Alexei because after working so many hours at a stretch she was keen to have some time that was her own. After all, tomorrow would bring an early start, the reading of the will and a return to business, which promised to be even more challenging than anything that had gone before. But who could tell what mood Alexei would be in? Only since the motorway pile-up had she truly appreciated just how volatile he could be

      Alexei was on the terrace with a drink in his hand. He had gone through most of the day that way and the sight of that ever-present glass struck a wrong note for her because overindulging in alcohol was not the norm for him. She recalled her painful glimpse of him with his mother’s orchids the night before and compressed her mouth. He had discarded his tie and unbuttoned his shirt but he still wore his black designer suit with striking panache. As she looked at him, taking in the grim gold of his stunning eyes and the rough shadow of stubble darkening his jaw line, her heart skipped a beat and she felt horribly guilty for reacting to his sexual allure on such an unhappy day.

      ‘You need a drink,’ Alexei drawled.

      ‘No, thanks…er—’

      Alexei strode past her into the house. ‘What would you like?’

      ‘I don’t drink when I’m working—’

      ‘If I’m not working, you’re not working either,’Alexei traded and slowly the stiffness in her bearing eased.