Mediterranean Millionaires. Lynne Graham

off his phone a couple of minutes later, a grim expression stamped on his darkly handsome features, Andreas strode back into the bedroom.

      Hope’s feathery lashes fluttered up on drowsy turquoise eyes. ‘Sorry…did I drift off?’

      ‘Come back to London with me,’ Andreas urged forcefully. ‘I don’t like leaving you here alone.’

      With a shake of her blonde head, she burrowed deeper into the pillow. Andreas adjusted the sheet again and resisted an almost overpowering need to just grab her up and stow her in the front of his car. His life had been so smooth when she had just done as he’d asked. Now everything was a battle and he hated it.

      He needed an edge. He needed a country house, something Hope would take one look at and fall hopelessly in love with. Cue: listed building of historical interest, oak beams, walled garden, loads of bathrooms. At least it would be a good investment. He contacted a top city estate agent and passed on his requirements.

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      THE strident call of the phone wakened Hope the following day. In her dream she was wearing a billowing evening frock and drifting gracefully across a vast green lawn towards Andreas, who had never looked more like a movie star. Then all of a sudden the dream turned into a nightmare for Andreas got fed up waiting and walked off. Even though she tried frantically hard to catch up with him, he kept on getting further and further away from her. She sat up with a start and his name on her lips, her heart pounding with panic.

      When she snatched up the phone, she somehow assumed that it would be Andreas and was guiltily but deeply disappointed when she realised that the caller was Vanessa. Her friend was so thrilled by the news she had to relate that it was several minutes before Hope grasped what the other woman was talking about. A London fashion designer had seen Vanessa’s photographic study of Hope’s handbags and, having been hugely impressed by Hope’s sense of style, was eager to meet Hope in person and see more of her work.

      Hope called the number that Vanessa gave her and agreed to an appointment late that same day. She had to leap out of bed, pack her bag and ring a taxi to take her to the train. Her relaxing country break had lasted less than forty-eight hours. But she was very excited that her designs had attracted the attention of a real trendsetter in the fashion world.

      Just before she locked up the cottage, a courier delivered a brand new mobile phone to her courtesy of Andreas. It was her favourite colour of lilac and it was incredibly cute as well as being possessed of every technological development known to man, most of which she would never use, but which Andreas would take the first opportunity to explain and demonstrate in detail. Of course, she knew she shouldn’t accept the phone, but she absolutely craved the sense of connection she experienced at the frequent sound of his dark, deep drawl.

      Establishing less fraught relations with Andreas made good sense, she reasoned inwardly. After all, they would soon be parents even if they were no longer together. Her throat filled with an immoveable lump. Had she been a little hasty rejecting him the night before? Hurriedly she squashed that weak rebellious thought.

      But there was no denying that the tranquillity she had achieved had been slaughtered by Andreas’s arrival and consequent departure. She felt bereft and empty and unhappy and that made her so angry with herself. She had to learn to live without Andreas. A positive development on the career front that would also keep her busy had never been more necessary.

      Her new phone rang. ‘Yes,’ she answered all breathless, and on edge.

      ‘It’s me…’ Andreas imparted unnecessarily, the dark timbre of his sexy voice shimmying down her sensitive spine.

      All of a sudden she was reliving the crash-and-burn effect of his gorgeous mouth on hers, his wildness in bed and the complete impossibility of ever replacing him with anyone even human.

      ‘I have some family stuff to deal with this evening.’ He sighed with audible regret. ‘But I would like to see you tomorrow.’

      She breathed in deep and held her breath to prevent herself from saying yes too quickly. ‘OK…’ she said finally, trailing out the word as if she were still considering the idea.

      ‘I’d appreciate your advice on a house I’m thinking of buying.’

      Hope was vaguely surprised that she didn’t swoon. Andreas wanted her advice? That was a huge compliment. And the advice related to a house? She adored houses. Was he moving? Whatever, it felt marvellous and cosy and confidence-boosting to be approached for an opinion. It was respect…in a small way, she told herself. Suddenly the glitz and the sparkle had returned to her day.

      ‘What right did Finlay have to take Robbie and Tristram to his mother’s house?’ Elyssa demanded shrilly of Andreas for at least the tenth time.

      ‘You’re very upset.’ Andreas released his breath in a soundless hiss. ‘Perhaps your husband thought he was doing you a favour.’

      Finlay often took his sons to their grandmother’s with Elyssa’s blessing. On this occasion, however, Elyssa was making a drama out of the event. Although Andreas had been at the Southwick home for almost an hour he still had no idea why his sister’s husband had left the marital home. Elyssa had been in hysterics when he’d arrived and it had taken Andreas a phenomenal length of time to calm her down.

      ‘Isn’t it time you told me why Finlay has walked out?’

      ‘I don’t know why!’ Elyssa slung petulantly.

      ‘There has to be a reason,’ Andreas murmured steadily. ‘Why are you so afraid that Finlay might have deliberately removed the children from your care?’

      ‘Maybe he’s bored with me…maybe he’s got someone else. He could be planning to make up insane lies about me in an attempt to gain custody of my boys!’ Elyssa cast a sidelong glance at her brother to see how he reacted to that very specific concern on her part.

      From the outset, Andreas had been aware that his sister was determined to win every possible atom of his sympathy. Now he grasped that he needed to hear the precise nature of what she termed lies. ‘Tell me about the lies,’ he encouraged softly.

      Her sullen brown eyes flicked warily back to him. ‘Finlay had the nerve to imply that I was a neglectful mother just because I left the boys with the nanny overnight.’

      ‘For how long was the nanny left in charge?’

      ‘Only over a few weekends…and once for a week when I went to Paris.’

      Reluctant to risk provoking her hysteria again, Andreas struggled to be tactful. ‘I understand Finlay’s concern. Couldn’t you have taken the children with you?’

      ‘I’m only twenty-five years old,’ Elyssa responded heatedly. ‘Surely I’m entitled to a life of my own?’

      ‘You have a good life,’ Andreas told her levelly. ‘Now why won’t you tell me why your husband has left?’

      Elyssa tossed her head. ‘I don’t want you preaching at me,’ she warned him thinly. ‘All right… I had an affair.’

      Sincerely shocked by that truculent admission, Andreas stiffened. He attempted to keep an open mind. ‘Are you in love with this man?’

      Her earlier distress apparently forgotten now that she had confessed, Elyssa rolled pained eyes. ‘It was only a fling. I can’t believe the fuss Finlay is making. As if anyone needs to break up a marriage over a casual affair!’

      ‘I would if you were my wife,’ Andreas responded without hesitation.

      ‘You’re Greek…your vote doesn’t count. You’re angry with me but I need you to make Finlay see sense. He has huge respect for you. He’ll listen to you.’

      Distaste gripped Andreas. He could see no evidence that Elyssa even regretted her infidelity.