One-Night Heirs

CHAPTER FIVE

CANDLESWEREGLOWING across the penthouse terrace as Emmie took a deep breath and stepped out into the warm summer night.

Another wedding, another day as a bride. But this time was so different. The lights of the city sparkled like diamonds, as above, the moon glowed like a pearl in black velvet.

Holding her arm, her father couldn’t speak for the tears in his eyes. Her proud, gruff father openly weeping wasn’t the only reason he was almost unrecognizable. His gray hair was sleekly trimmed, and he was dressed in a designer suit, with a new gold watch on his wrist, a gift from her bridegroom.

Emmie had received the upgrade treatment, too. She hardly recognized herself, either, in the short, deceptively simple shift dress that could best be described as quiet luxury: hemline at the knee, cowl neckline, long sleeves with a slight bell shape at the wrist. Her hair had been styled in a soft, elegant chignon, and rather than veiled was adorned with a large white rose. Her makeup was discreet, far more discreet than the enormous pearl studs in her ears—those, too, were a gift from the groom, and she was sure they’d cost a fortune. But not as much as the emerald-cut diamond engagement ring on her left hand, which was big enough to be seen from space.

Her cheeks burned as she and Karl walked past the fifty or so standing guests watching them with big eyes. Theo had hired the most expensive wedding planner in the city and demanded a small, elegant ceremony to be produced in four days. The woman had done as he’d asked, for an exorbitant amount that still made Emmie wince to think of it. It was unreasonable how much he’d spent, to achieve something they could have done quietly and easily by going to the courthouse downtown. But what Theo Katrakis wanted Theo Katrakis got.

She shivered.

Walking ahead of them was Honora Ferraro, her best friend who’d returned from the Caribbean especially to be her one and only bridesmaid. She held a single long-stemmed white rose, matching the seven of them in Emmie’s elegant bridal bouquet—exactly seven roses, to symbolize harmony and also the four elements and yin and yang and something else. Emmie had been too distracted to follow the planner’s explanation, but she figured she’d take all the luck she could get.

The last few days had been a whirlwind of wedding planning and dress fittings and cake tastings. Other than paying for everything, Theo had been absent, busy at the office, as he said, trying to finish up some loose ends so they could leave to honeymoon at some mysterious location. It had been strange to be sleeping in the guest room of this big penthouse, not quite a wife, not his employee, not even really his guest. But in a few minutes, after they spoke their vows, she would have a new place in the world. She’d be Mrs. Theo Katrakis.

Walking across the terrace to harp music, Emmie tottered on four-inch white strappy sandals. Her gaze rested on her four younger brothers, all looking unusually civilized in sleek designer suits that matched her father’s.

Her family was far more thrilled about this wedding than they’d been about her prospective alliance to Harold Eklund four days before. Emmie privately wondered if it was possible Theo had bought them all off.

But then, was she any better?

She was marrying him for their baby’s sake, she told herself firmly. Their marriage would be a practical one, a partnership to create a stable home for their child. Beyond that, she didn’t give two hoots about Theo’s wealth. As long as a family could pay their bills, she’d seen no evidence that a big fortune made anyone happier in life. It sure hadn’t given Theo much joy that she could see. And yet he kept chasing it.

No, Emmie didn’t care about Theo’s fortune. She was no gold digger.

But there would be other benefits she did care about...

She shivered as her eyes fell on her bridegroom, waiting in front of the pergola with the judge and Nico, his best man. Behind them, Manhattan sparkled beneath the sweep of the summer moonlight.

Theo’s black eyes met hers.

He was wearing a bespoke tuxedo that fit him to perfection, hand-tailored to the hard angles of his powerfully muscled body. She looked up, dazzled by his masculine beauty. Even the slight crookedness of his nose made him more exotic, so strong, so different.

Her heart was pounding.

Theo had insisted on replacing the line in the prenup that she’d tried to cross out. They’d both signed the original version, which listed financial penalties for adultery—by either party. In spite of her weak protests, he’d seemed utterly confident that he’d soon be able to seduce her.

Emmie shivered, fearing he was right. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep him from her bed, or even if she should, when she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her. Even now, just looking at him, her body was fire. She didn’t realize she’d licked her lips until she tasted lipstick.

She wanted him.

She always had, from the day they’d met at Honora and Nico’s wedding years before, Emmie as maid of honor, Theo the best man. Even though he was a handsome billionaire playboy, and she’d been a chubby, working-class nobody, not remotely pretty or interesting. She’d still wanted him. Desperately. She’d hidden her longing with barbed insults for years.

Now Theo was going to be hers.

No. He’d already been hers, though she had not known it. He’d had no other lover since the night they’d conceived their baby.

He’d had no reason to be faithful. They’d never officially been a couple. Why would a playboy be faithful to a one-night stand?

And yet he had. He’d wanted only her.

Knowing that, how could Emmie resist?

“You’re practical,” he’d told her. “Modern. You don’t do feelings. You’re like me.”

She wished he was right. That she could simply enjoy sex with her husband, without letting her heart get in the way.

But that wasn’t her, and she knew it. She had to resist. Had to. Because if she succumbed to her desire, there would be nothing to keep her from falling in love with him all over again. Even though she knew her husband would never, ever love her back.

And she’d be lost...

As they reached the pergola, her father transferred her hand to Theo’s, and he kept his large hand wrapped reverently around hers. Emmie looked up at the soft flicker of light playing across her bridegroom’s rugged face from the columns of tall white candles.

The vows were spoken. A plain gold band for him, a thin platinum band matching the diamond engagement ring for her. There was nothing religious in the judge’s words, and yet this moment held a breathless hush to Emmie as they were united, their lives tied together forever.

Then the judge grinned. “You may kiss the bride.”

As the guests standing around them applauded and cheered on the terrace, their noise echoing out into the warm summer night in this sparkling city, Theo lowered his head and kissed her.

And as his lips touched hers, Emmie trembled and was suddenly scared she was already lost.

It was over. He’d done it. They were married.

There was no getting out of it now.

As Theo pulled away from the brief kiss, after the judge proclaimed them husband and wife, he looked down at his new bride amid the applause.

Emmie’s eyes were luminous, glowing brighter than the candles around them, brighter than the city lights or stars in the darkness above. But he saw something in her expression. Some private grief, some agonized question.

And he felt something tighten painfully in his chest.

“Congratulations, man,” Nico said, clapping him on the shoulder. His best man had been a rock through this. That very morning, when Theo had returned to the penthouse at dawn after finding reasons to stay at the office all night, he’d felt cold and clammy and wondered if he was coming down with something.

Fear. He’d been coming down with fear.

Emmie, of course, had no idea of his surfaced doubts. He’d known he couldn’t tell her. Their union was already on shaky-enough ground, without him sharing, just hours before their wedding, that he felt sick to the soul at the promise he was about to make.

To love and cherish forever? What was he thinking? No one could promise that. Life was hard and uncertain.

And fidelity? It had been easy to be faithful to her for the last seven months. He hadn’t even wanted another woman. But how could he promise that he’d never feel differently? What if he did?

What if Emmie did? What if she—

And it was at that moment he’d realized he was sweating and had picked up his phone blindly, intending to call his pilot and arrange a quick flight to the other side of the world.

But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t abandon his unborn son. Not after what Theo himself had gone through when he was young.

So instead, he’d called his best friend—his only close friend, really, aside from Emmie herself. He knew Nico Ferraro had once gone through something similar himself, marrying the granddaughter of an employee in a shotgun wedding—literally—after she surprised him with a pregnancy, knocking on his door in the middle of the night, right before her enraged grandfather showed up with a shotgun, demanding they marry.

But if Theo had secretly hoped that his friend would suggest, as he himself had before Nico’s wedding, that it wasn’t too late to make a run for it, he’d been disappointed. Instead, Nico had listened, sympathized and then proceeded to tell stories about how glad he was that he’d married Honora, that the marriage had been the making of him, that he couldn’t imagine a life without her or their children.

All very well for him. But from a young age, Theo had seen too much in the world to believe in fairy tales. He’d never believed in any of it—that good always triumphed over evil, that love could last forever, that families could love and protect each other to the end.

The only way to survive in this harsh life was to be strong and alone.

But even knowing this, Theo had found somewhat to his surprise that he couldn’t desert his son. So he’d gone through with the wedding. It had taken all his strength to make his lips speak the words.

Now, as Theo turned to face his wedding guests, he was a married man. And looking at his bride’s big, nervous eyes, he was wondering if he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life.

“We’re so happy for you both.” Nico’s wife, Honora, was beaming at them. “Our two best friends married? It’s a dream come true!”

“I still can’t believe you were the father of Emmie’s baby all along. Even when I told you she was pregnant by some man in Rio,” Nico said, laughing, “you didn’t say a word!”

Emmie blushed. “It just happened. We never intended...”

“Yes, we know how that goes,” Nico said, exchanging a loving, amused glance with his wife, whose cheeks blushed even redder than Emmie’s. Honora turned quickly to her friend.

“Just think, our children will grow up together.” She hugged Emmie carefully, so as not to muss her gown. “Our families can take vacations together. The South of France. Italy. Greece.”

“Except Theo hates Greece,” Nico said, looking at him uncomfortably.

Both women looked at him, startled.

“You do?” Emmie said.

“How could anyone hate Greece?” Honora said.

Theo kept his expression cold. “Actually, I recently bought property on a Greek island.”

Nico, who knew only the tiniest bit of Theo’s history, looked astonished. “You did?”

Seeing all the other guests waiting to congratulate them, Emmie’s family and a few friends from her neighborhood and a whole bunch of his own acquaintances, important society and business people he didn’t actually give a damn about, Theo decided he wanted to finish this wedding as quickly as possible. He grabbed Emmie’s hand. “We should have our dance.”

“Great idea.” Nico immediately took his own wife in his arms. “We must take advantage of being on our own tonight. No babies or grandparents to interrupt us.”

“Is that your new definition of romance?” Honora teased, but her eyes flashed with love.

Emmie seemed less keen to dance with Theo. “Already?” She looked around. “But we haven’t even said hello to all our guests—”

“We can do what we want,” Theo said roughly, by which he meant what he wanted.

And so, to the despair of the wedding planner, Theo started the dancing an hour ahead of schedule, before the cocktails or hors d’oeuvres had been served, before cake, before even the champagne toast.

As he led her onto the impromptu dance floor on the terrace beneath the moonlight, he tried to ignore the erratic pounding of his heart. It was only when the music started and he pulled her into his arms that he could breathe again.

Yes. When he held Emmie in his arms, her body pressing against his own, the roar in his ears receded, the panic disappeared.

She looked up at him, her eyes bright, her mouth curving up. “You really don’t like weddings, do you? Not even your own.”

Especially not my own, he wanted to say, but he didn’t because that might have hurt her feelings.

So he said brusquely, “I got a phone call right before the ceremony. I need to go into the office.”

“What...now?”

“On the way to the airport.”

“Fine,” she sighed. She glanced at her father and two of her brothers, now smiling at the married couple from the edge of the dance floor. “What did you do to them? I think they now love you more than me.”

He said coolly, “You told me you wanted your family taken care of financially, did you not?”

Her eyes focused on him. “Yes?”

“I told them I’d pay for any upgrades the plumbing business needed, and housing for your brothers, as well as for college or trade school for the ones who preferred to branch out on their own.”

“You did what?” Her lips parted. “What did my father say?”

“He demanded that I promise to always take care of you and make you happy,” he said shortly. Another promise he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep. All these promises he’d spread around. His heart started to pound again.

“We’ll both try to be good partners,” Emmie said stiffly, and she looked away, a little wistfully he thought, at Honora and Nico clinging to each other passionately on the dance floor.

Theo looked down at her. In the moonlight, his new wife looked breathtakingly beautiful. The white bloom in her hair gave her the look of a medieval maiden in a pre-Raphaelite painting. The soft white silk dress fit like water running over the swollen curves of her pregnant body.

Turning beneath his gaze, Emmie furrowed her brow, her pretty face turning uncertain. “What is it?” She licked her lips. “Is something wrong?”

The music ended, and he thankfully didn’t have to answer. Taking her hand, he led her off the dance floor.

Theo endured the next hour by watching the clock, smiling when required, saying Thank you for coming when he was congratulated, speaking directly into his own camera in Greek, sending a video message to Sofia in Paris, telling her he’d see her soon. It was the least he could do, after he’d all but forbidden her to attend his wedding today. She’d cried on the phone when he told her.

But it was better for her to keep her distance. Her life was better without Theo in it. Why couldn’t she see that? Hadn’t he ruined enough for her?

Pushing thoughts of Sofia away, he focused on listening to Emmie’s carefully written, if somewhat stilted, wedding toast. As she teased him about his workaholic ways, causing a ruffle of laughter through the crowd, she also made her deep respect for him clear. By the end of her toast, as she held up her sparkling San Pellegrino, and everyone else held up their Dom Pérignon, Theo felt surprised, touched, but most of all deeply uncomfortable. He knew he didn’t deserve praise.

His own toast, spoken off the cuff, certainly made that clear. He’d simply held up his glass and looked at his bride. “To you!”

Even Nico, normally his most loyal friend, looked a little startled at Theo’s obvious lack of preparation or his plain ineptitude.

But for the last few days, Theo had been unable to think of writing his wedding toast to his bride without breaking into a sweat. A pity he couldn’t ask Emmie to write it for him, but even he could see that wouldn’t be appropriate. As it was, he’d been forced to delegate the task to Edna, the elderly secretary sent to him by an agency after Emmie left—Edna with the dyed black hair who distrusted computers, smelled vaguely of mothballs, and repeatedly called Theo hon. Sadly, her attempt at a wedding toast, fusty witticisms cobbled together from some long-dead humorist’s book of maxims, was unintelligible.

So he’d had to wing it. If brevity was the soul of wit, To you! should have been a wedding toast for the ages.

Unfortunately, his bride didn’t seem to see it that way. Her lovely face had fallen.

Not the first time Theo had disappointed her. Definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“We should go,” he said in a low voice while everyone was still gulping their drinks. “I need to pick something up at the office.”

She looked bewildered. “You said we could do it later.”

“And now it’s later.”

Her brow furrowed. “Can’t we just send someone for it?”

“I need to do it myself.”

“Why?”

“I just do.”

“But we haven’t even cut the cake. It came from the best baker in the city...” Then she looked at his face more closely. “All right. Let’s go.”

Theo blinked, feeling a sense of vertigo at her sudden change. He wondered what she’d seen in his face. He didn’t like to think of anyone being able to see into his soul. He told himself it didn’t matter, as long as he got what he wanted. Which was getting the hell out of here.

Theo gave discreet orders to his butler, and within five minutes, bride and groom were heading for the car, showered with rice, praise and some good-natured teasing by their guests: “I’ve never seen anyone so keen to start their honeymoon!”

But once the two of them were sitting in the back of the Rolls-Royce, as Bernard drove them through the dark, empty streets of a late weekday evening in Manhattan, it was suddenly far too quiet for Theo’s liking. Especially with their suitcases in the trunk for their honeymoon. He’d picked the location as an act of bravado, a way to prove to himself how far he’d come. But had he? Had he really?

For his whole adult life, he’d managed to contain his emotions, to avoid even having them. But now, for some reason, they were suddenly circling.

Emmie’s eyes caught his in the back seat, and he looked away sharply, his heart in his throat.

Normally, he would have thrown himself into work for four days or ten, until he was too exhausted and distracted to feel anything. But he could hardly work now, when he’d insisted on dragging his new bride from their wedding. He couldn’t exactly jump out of the car and run a quick ten miles, either.

Only one other stress reliever would do.

His gaze slid sideways to the curve of Emmie’s breast. They were married now. Leaving on honeymoon. He didn’t believe for a second that Emmie actually intended their marriage to be in name only. She’d enjoyed their night together as much as he had. So either she was lying to him, trying to gain the upper hand in their relationship—good luck with that—or else she was lying to herself for some reason. Either way, it was time to clear the air and fall into bed. He couldn’t wait until they arrived at their honeymoon destination. And his private jet did have a bed...

In Midtown, he strode into his office building to get this errand done so they could reach that jet as quickly as possible. Emmie followed in her wedding dress. He greeted the security guard, who took in their attire and smiled.

“Congratulations, sir.”

“Thanks for coming—” Catching his automatic response too late, Theo corrected himself. “Er, thanks for keeping an eye on things here.”

Upstairs, Theo found his empty office floor and all the unfilled cubicles deathly quiet.

“Why are we here?” Emmie asked behind him. He glanced at her, then without responding, kept walking.

His private office was large, with high ceilings, and a very expensive desk. His company had offices in cities around the world, but New York City was technically his headquarters. Unlocking his safe hidden behind a black-and-white Jackson Pollock painting, he pulled out a small, plainly wrapped package, three inches square. His hand trembled a little as he looked down at it in his palm.

“It’s funny to be here.” Emmie gave a low laugh as she looked around the office. “So much has changed since I was here last...”

Moonlight from the high arched window flooded his private office, illuminating dappled patterns on her wedding dress and the white rose in her hair, her eyes bright. She looked like an angel. An angel he didn’t deserve.

And a sensual one, a divine angel of sin. His gaze fell to her full breasts and belly, straining against the thin white of the silk, and he shuddered. There was no way he could wait until they reached the jet at Teterboro.

Now. He needed her now.

Locking the safe, sliding the painting back over it, he dropped the small package in his jacket pocket. He crossed the office, standing inches away from her, towering over her.

Emmie looked up in the moonlight, and her expression changed. She said brokenly, “Theo—”

But he didn’t want to hear arguments or reasons. He didn’t want to think at all. After everything he’d endured to do the right thing—marry her—he wanted only to claim his prize.

Pulling her roughly into his arms, Theo kissed her. No soft short kiss, either, like the one he’d given her at their wedding. No.

This kiss was hungry. Dirty. Hard. He plundered her mouth in an intensity of need. She gasped against his lips, and for a moment he felt her hesitate. His grip tightened.

Then she returned his kiss with a desperation that matched his own. A bed, they needed a bed—

The desk. The big desk where they’d spent over a year working together, where for months he’d tried not to notice how beautiful his secretary was, when he’d tried and failed not to desire her. Yes. He’d take her on the desk, right here and now—

Cupping her breasts through the sensuous silk, he deepened the kiss as she trembled in his arms. Reaching beneath the fabric of her bra, he felt the warmth of her skin against his palms and stroked her nipples between his fingers.

Ripping away from the kiss, he lowered his head to one nipple, then the other, savoring the taste as each pebbled in the heat of his wet mouth. He heard her moan and was suddenly so hard his whole body shook with need. He had to have her—now. Pushing her against the desk, he fell to his knees in front of her, yanking up her wedding dress, reaching for her white lacy panties, pushing her thighs apart—

“No,” she choked out suddenly, and then, “No!”

Roughly, she shoved him away. Startled, Theo stumbled back. Regaining his balance, he straightened. For a moment, they stared at each other in the shadows, blinking in the moonlight.

“I meant what I said,” Emmie said hoarsely. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

Then she slid off the desk and, without a single backward glance, left him standing in the shadows of his office.

He stared at the empty doorway, his heart still pounding, dazed with lust.

Seducing her was going to require more effort than he’d thought.

Theo took a deep breath, gripping his hands against the desk. He wanted her. Badly.

And he would have her. They had their whole honeymoon ahead of them. Seducing his wife was now his one and only goal.

Theo intended to be utterly ruthless.