Obligation To Love
All love is an illusion.Hayley was a woman with a mission: she was going to convince Andros Christos to agree to the marraige of her sister and his cousin. Having met Andros, Hayley realized that she had her work cut out for her.It seemed the Greek tycoon didn't believe in love - especially when it came to marriage! Andros, however, made it clear what he did believe in. But would the passionate attraction that flared between them ever be enough for Hayley?
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CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
A FAINT, cool breeze drifted in from the open French windows, bringing in its wake the heavy fragrance of summer flowers. The rich perfume hung heavily in the air, adding to the stifling atmosphere which seemed to surround Andros. He rolled on to his back, enjoying the cool crispness of the sheets that met his hot, lean body. He shut his eyes momentarily, a look of dissat-isfaction clouding his face. He knew there was something missing, something wrong, but he had grown too old to believe in fairy-tales, and the harshness of life had made him face reality with cynicism. He no longer chased the elusive dreams of happiness, or love; to him, both were empty shams. He looked up, watching the sway of the fine muslin curtains, the dark shadows that they cast across the delicately decorated ceiling mesmerising him for a moment. He watched the changing pattern with vacant eyes and sighed deeply: there seemed to be nothing in life for him. Then he frowned, his dark black brows drawing together, as he felt her body shift slightly at the side of him. He was enjoying his quiet moment of reflection and objected to the intrusion.
Andros turned to look at her, letting his ebony eyes trail over her full figure with cool detachment. His lips curled in a smile, allowing his sensuous mouth to widen and show a flash of perfect white teeth. He lifted the cotton sheet and drew it up gently to cover her bare shoulders, though not before he had planted a soft kiss on her ample breast. She gave a purr of pleasure and her heavy, sleep-laden eyes flickered open. There was a slumberous warmth in their depths, enticing and provocative, and her face held the same smug expression as that of a cat who had drunk all the cream.
‘Andros,’ she murmured sleepily, as she wrapped her arm around his muscular chest and drew him towards her. He groaned under his breath as the shrill ringing of the telephone interrupted them, his dark features narrowing with disapproval. He moved closer to her, determined to ignore the phone, but it was insistent, shattering their peace till he was forced to acknowledge it.
‘Yes?’ he snapped, annoyed that anyone should contact him here, yet instinctively knowing that it must be important. There were few people who had access to this number. Though his reputation was legendary, he attempted to carry out his private affairs with as much discretion as he could. He might still be forced to marry, he often thought ruefully, if only for business reasons, and it was essential that he retain this place as his retreat from the world.
Suddenly, the haunting anxiety of his aunt’s troubled voice echoed down the line in a hoarse whisper. Her very tone seemed to chill the room and Andros was immediately alert, his whole body suddenly alive with anticipation.
‘It’s Dimitri,’ his aunt said simply, a tremble in her voice. ‘He is going to marry the English girl.’
A cold dread surrounded Andros’s heart, enveloping his whole being and his tightening stomach with a sudden grip. He remained silent, his voice paralysed, as his mind became a vortex of mixed emotions. He frowned deeply and his gaze turned ruthless and cold. Bitter, harsh memories flooded into his mind, taunting him with sharp detail. Would he never forget? he thought grimly, as he struggled to concentrate on the present. At last, when he spoke, his voice was bereft of the riot of emotions that had tumbled around inside him; all he could feel was the stern resolution that it would not be, could never be.
‘I’ll come home,’ he stated curtly; no explanations, no sympathetic noises, but it was reassurance enough. His aunt thanked him profusely, obviously confident that Andros would be able to stop her son’s foolishness. He replaced the receiver while she still babbled, oblivious to the overwhelming relief he had given her. His actions were slow, his movements careful and deliberate, belying an eruption of ideas, as his mind had already begun making decisions. A warm female hand was still placed on his taut body, deep red long fingernails toying with the dark hairs on his hard chest and tracing an intricate pattern slowly down towards his flat stomach.
‘What’s the matter?’ the woman crooned coaxingly, her voice again purring seductively. Andros frowned, suddenly aware once more of her presence. He flung back the sheets over her with cruel disregard as he left the bed.
‘I’m going home,’ he answered curtly, avoiding the look of hurt in her eyes with customary ease.
‘Now?’ she echoed in disbelief, struggling upwards and propping herself up on the plump pillows. He glanced at her, smiling with unconcealed appreciation at her unsubtle attempt to keep him there. She flaunted her full breasts and shapely body with a skill that had taken years of practice, but he was unmoved by her invitation. He gave her another wry smile that failed to warm the black depths of his pupils, and his voice was razor-sharp and equally cutting.
