Instead, his dark eyes softening on Willow's beautiful face, he smiled down into her trusting sapphire eyes and said, 'I'll take care of the bill, and you take care of Stephanos and Mother. Watch her driving—she can be lethal when the mood strikes her.' Reaching to tuck a tendril of hair behind her ear in a tender gesture, he added huskily, 'I'll see you later; wait for me.'
Willow did. . .and he made love to her with a gentle passion like nothing that had gone before, and all her doubts were laid to rest.
Six weeks later Willow sat in front of the dressing-table mirror and applied the final coat of lip gloss to her full lips. Theo had called her from his office in Athens to tell her he would be home soon. Tonight they were going to a reception at the British Embassy for some visiting international businessmen. Charles had also called her earlier and reminded her to bring him another one of her books for his mother. They had become quite friendly over the weeks, and Theo didn't mind because he knew Charles was gay.
Slipping the lipstick into the small drawer under the mirror, her fingers lingered on the tape of her birth-control pills. Withdrawing them, she hesitated, a musing smile on her face as she turned the strip over in her hand. Maybe now was the time to throw them away. Theo need never know she had ever taken them.
Her marriage was going much better than she could have ever hoped. The past few weeks had been almost perfect. Stephen had settled into Greek life incredibly well. It must have something to do with his genes but he was picking up the Greek language with an amazing ease. He adored his father, as did Willow, she freely admitted, her blue eyes dreamy.
Theo was a wonderful lover and an attentive husband. He had made no complaint when she had asked if they could make a quick trip back to England to see her publisher, but had turned it into a four-day holiday for all three of them. He showered her in presents, from the diamond hair-clips for her wedding present to a diamond pendant that matched her engagement ring to mark the one-week anniversary of their marriage, a fully fitted study to enable her to continue with her writing to the single rose bought from a street seller when they dined out—he spoilt her rotten.
She had tried to remonstrate with him when he had opened a bank account in her name with an enormous amount of money, and insisted on giving her a monthly allowance. It was the nearest they had come to an argument, and of course he had won by the simple expedient of making love to her. And in that department, incredibly, it just kept getting better and better, the intimacy and the caring between them growing by the day.
Mia, his housekeeper, was a brilliant cook and, with the help of her husband and two daily maids, the house ran like clockwork. Tonight Stephen was staying with his grandmother and Mia and her husband were having the night off so the house seemed eerily quiet.
As she glanced around the room Willow's smile faded somewhat. The only fly in the ointment was this house. She had recognised it as soon as she'd walked in the door. It was the house Theo had built for Dianne, and however much she tried to tell herself that it did not matter, it did. The house itself was magnificent and the grounds extensive. The security was second only to Fort Knox, but deep down inside it bothered her. She didn't like the feeling of being caged in a house that had been built for another woman.
She hadn't mentioned it to Theo, even though with every passing day she was becoming more and more confident in their marriage. She thought the closeness growing between them was too new for her to risk spoiling it.
She grimaced. Perhaps next month. . . She took a pill and headed for the bathroom and a glass of water.
'I hope the water running means what I think it means.' Theo's deep, melodious voice had her spinning round and she almost dropped the glass she was holding. A tide of red washed over her pale features. He had shed his business suit, shirt and tie and, with his thumbs in the waistband of his black boxers, he looked incredibly attractive, his dark eyes roaming over her tall, elegant body with obvious sensual intent.
'I didn't hear you arrive. I was just getting a glass of water—I was thirsty,' she said hurriedly.
He gave her a quizzical glance, taking in her lightly made-up face, the mass of black hair pinned on top of her head, the diamond pendant he had bought her nestling in the slight shadow of her breasts. She was wearing a shimmering silver evening dress that slashed across under her arms, and revealed every curve of her delectable body, ending a couple of inches above her knees and exposing the long length of her legs. It crossed his mind that if he had had any sense at all he would have kept her in her long, all-encompassing cotton dresses. She was far too delectable to be exposed to other men's eyes.
A wry smile quirked his mouth and he sighed. 'Ah, I am too late. You look absolutely divine. The skirt's a bit short maybe. . . And I was hoping to join you in the shower.' Moving towards h
er, he dropped a kiss on her brow. 'Out, before I change my mind.' He tapped her on the bottom, and stripped off his shorts.
For a moment Willow simply stared. The light caress of his mouth across her brow and his magnificent tanned, naked body, already hardening in arousal, had her melting inside as always.
'Or perhaps you would care to change it for me?' Theo said with a husky laugh.
'What?' She lifted her mesmerised eyes to his and saw his pupils darken and dilate. She had to forcibly remind herself that they were supposed to be on their way out. 'No, you devil,' she said with a shake of her head and a reluctant grin, and headed for the door.
'I'll get you later and that is a promise.' Theo's laughing shout followed her into the bedroom.
'I will meet you downstairs,' she teased back. 'I don't trust you in a bedroom.' Later she would realise how cruelly true her parting shot had been. . .
It was a glittering affair and, because Willow's childhood years had included holidaying with her mother at various embassies around the world, she felt quite comfortable in such a gathering. The Foreign Office was quite a close-knit community and she had been both surprised and delighted when she had met the British Ambassador to Greece at a dinner some weeks ago, only to discover that he had known her mother and her father.
The cream of Greek society mingled with British and other Europeans, plus a smattering of Americans. There was no trouble with the language as virtually everyone spoke English. Everyone except for a huge businessman from Russia, who devoured Willow with his eyes when they were introduced. She had no trouble knowing exactly what he was thinking, but Theo led her away with a whispered comment in her ear that the man was rumoured to be the head of the Russian Mafia.
A host of willing waiters circulated champagne and canapés, and Willow was really enjoying herself. Leo was there and was at his outrageous best, chatting up every good-looking woman in sight.
Christine Markham caused a sensation in a white satin slip of a dress, that plunged at the back and front, and was transparent enough to show the dark centres of her breasts.
With Theo's arm around her, Willow glanced up at him, her blue eyes light with amusement. 'You thought my dress was too short. Do you think Christine knows hers is almost see-through?'
'Oh, she knows, all right,' Theo murmured with a sardonic arch of one eyebrow. 'Believe me." And he thanked his lucky stars that he had not made the serious mistake of proposing to the woman. She was a dyed-haired, dyed-in- the-wool career woman. A good decorator, but as hard as steel.
'There you are, Willow.' Charles appeared, his boyish face creased in a smile. 'Have you remembered the book you promised me for my mother?'
'Yes, of course.' She smiled back. 'I—'
'Charles,' Theo cut in. 'Look after my wife for me a moment. I've just seen Stavros arrive and I want to have a private word with him.' Glancing down at Willow, his dark eyes apologetic, he said, 'Do you mind, Willow? A little business I need to attend to.'