The Greek Boss's Demand by Trish Morey Page A

through the long, lonely nights of the future. Memories of Nick. Memories of love.
    She made love to him, and morning moved into afternoon and then into evening. They stopped to eat, sharing a salad and bread and memories of Crete, then shared an evening walk, hand in hand, along the beach, before falling into bed again as evening became night.
    Alex yawned after their latest lovemaking and nestled into the space between his arm and his body. With his free arm he stroked her shoulder, almost hypnotising her. It had been a perfect day. Her body felt exhausted, yet at the same time exhilarated. Muscles she’d long forgotten about already voiced their protest.
    She was deliciously close to sleep. ‘When are you leaving?’ she asked softly.
    His hand stopped and pulled away to rub his forehead. ‘A few days.’
    Alex felt her heart squeeze tight. She’d known he was leaving, but still disappointment consumed her. But why should one day’s lovemaking make any difference to his plans? She’d never believed it would—had she?
    But what of a son? Would he stay if he knew about his son?
    She licked her swollen lips. ‘Is there anything that might make you reconsider?’
    â€˜I have businesses back in Greece. Now that Dimitri is here, there is no reason for me to stay. I have to go.’
    He didn’t hesitate with his response. She should feel grateful he’d made his intentions clear. She closed her eyes and nodded into his shoulder. ‘I know.’
    So he was going. And tomorrow she would tell him about Jason. At least they would have a chance to meet each other before he left. Tomorrow. First thing tomorrow…
    Â 
    He was gone. Alex looked at the pillow next to her, devoid of everything but the impression of Nick’s head. Her ears strained for sounds of running water—the shower—a kettle? But there was nothing to hear. The silence of an otherwise empty house wrapped around her. Only the sounds of early-morning bird calls drifted in from outside, like the bright needles of sunlight squeezing through the gaps in the curtains.
    She reached out an arm. The bed was cold. Where was he? She sat up, looking over the edge of the bed, but the floor only held her own discarded clothes.
    Suddenly wide awake, she jumped up and scrabbled into her robe, trying to ignore the ache of rarely used muscles. She checked the kitchen and bathroom. She kneeled on the sofa and looked through the frontcurtains. But even a peek out of the front window revealed nothing but her own car in the driveway.
    She looked around the room for a note or message. But there was nothing.
    Nick and every trace of him had disappeared. She collapsed down onto the sofa. Some time early in the morning he’d sneaked out of her bed and out of her life.
    â€˜You’re a fool, Alex Hammond, a prize fool,’ she told herself, anger replacing her shock at discovering his undercover departure. ‘How could you have fallen for that?’
    After all, ever since his arrival he’d been after her to jump into bed. Now she had, and where was he? Gone. Long gone.
    It was clear he’d got what he wanted.
    Tears pricked at her eyes, but anger at her own actions forced them back. She sniffed. ‘A silly fool,’ she repeated, heading off to the kitchen to put on the kettle. He’d conned her well and good. All that stuff about leaving any talk until tomorrow—well, he clearly wasn’t interested. He’d had no intention of staying and hearing any of it. Clearly wasn’t interested in her or her life. He never wanted to know—otherwise why wouldn’t he have stuck around?
    Now he would go back to Greece and never know about his son. Well, it would serve him right.
    Alex jiggled a teabag while her teeth toyed with her bottom lip. Only that didn’t solve anything. Nick still needed to know he had a son. But with Jason’sbirthday tomorrow there was no way he was going to