Ким Лоренс – His Love-Child: The Greek Tycoon's Love-Child / The Spaniard's Love-Child / The Millionaire's Love-Child (страница 24)

She was an exceptional woman in a hundred different ways. Proud, independent and a wonderful mother, not to mention the most exquisitely beautiful female he had ever seen. Yet there was no vanity about her; she seemed totally unaware of her own power. There wasn’t a man in this room who would not leap at the chance to be in his shoes, and she had been right before. He was jealous.

‘If you’re finished eating, Willow, perhaps you would like a breath of fresh air?’

Willow lifted her head and met his dark gaze almost with relief. It was hot inside and the noise was making her head ache, not to mention her feeling the censure of all eyes. ‘You read my mind,’ she said with unaccustomed flippancy, and took the hand he held out to help her to her feet.

Theo led her out onto the terrace, deftly fielding the many salutations from his friends as they passed. She drew in a lungful of the cool night air, a soft sigh escaping her.

‘Better?’ Theo asked quietly.

‘Yes,’ Willow murmured. Their hands still linked together, she smiled briefly up at him.

‘Good.’ Theo stopped and looked down at her, his expression oddly serious. ‘This party…’ He gestured with his free hand to the brilliantly lit rooms and the crowd of people spilling out onto the terrace. ‘You don’t need to worry—these people will very quickly accept your sudden appearance in my life. Any who don’t will have me to deal with, I promise you.’

She lifted smiling eyes to his. Even when he was trying to be serious his inbuilt arrogance very quickly surfaced, she thought with wry amusement. ‘From kidnapper to white knight in four days, Theo,’ she quipped with a chuckle. ‘That is some going, even for you, but amazingly I think I believe you. None of this lot would dare argue with you.’

The hand holding hers slid around her waist and he drew her closer. ‘So I amuse you, do I?’ His dark eyes lit with laughter and a deepening sexual gleam that promised retribution of the most basic kind. ‘You would dare laugh at me,’ he drawled huskily, and his dark head lowered, his warm breath brushing her cheek, ‘when all I am trying to do…’

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