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But Luke's austere features were expressionless: he might as well have been conducting a board meeting. And in a way she supposed he was. Except that this time he was buying a marriage—and for a man who'd made his fortune trading on any commodity, why would this be any different? she thought bitterly.
'I still don't see what you get out of all this—other than a reluctant wife,' she said flatly. Then again. I could agree, and then divorce you six months later; that would leave me a heck of a lot richer and you even more out of pocket.'
'Nice try, Jemma.' He had the gall to grin as he rose to his feet and reached for her, his hands curving possessively around her shoulders. 'Sorry to disappoint you, but it's not quite that simple—there is one other condition. I want you to be the mother of my child, and to make sure of your compliance, my money will be fed into the company over the next three years.'
Mother of his child. Four simple words, but to Jemma very evocative. Her happiest childhood memories of her mother were when they had worked in the garden together, growing and nurturing plants and flowers. It was an intrinsic part of her nature to appreciate the continuity of life in all its forms. And for a moment the thought of having Luke's child stirred a basic response inside her. From the day she had married Jemma had always wanted a baby, but Alan had wanted to wait, and then it had been too late.
'So what's it to be, Jemma? Yes or no?' Luke asked, one hand moving from her shoulder to clasp the nape of her neck and tilt her face up to his. 'You know we're good together.' His dark head lowered—he was going to kiss her.
'No. No…' She pushed at his chest and hastily stepped back, putting some space between them. For a minute she had almost been seduced by his suggestio
n, and by the shameful need to feel his mouth on hers, to taste again the passion of his kiss, and yet Luke was trying to force her into marriage! Was she going mad?
'Pity.' Luke shrugged his broad shoulders. 'Two old men are going to be very disappointed—your father more than Theo, I fear.'
In a blinding flash of clarity Jemma saw it all. 'My God, that's it!' she cried, her golden eyes blazing angrily into his. 'I thought your grandfather was such a lovely old man, and yet between you you must have decided to ruin my father simply to get the house in Zante—or at least make sure your child did. I can easily believe that you are that devious, but I would never have thought it of Theo,' she accused bitterly. 'What is it with you Devetzi men? Is it your mission in life to destroy mine?'
'No,' Luke said harshly, his strong hand closing over her shoulders again. 'Theo has nothing to do with this. And whatever happens he is never to find out we had this conversation. He informed me after the party that he had given up on buying the villa because he had met you again and realised that you were a lovely woman who was unlikely to remain single or childless for much longer. So don't let what's happened between us spoil your opinion of Theo.'
'You really do care for him,' Jemma murmured, shocked; she hadn't thought Luke Devetzi capable of caring for anyone.
'Yes, of course I do.' His dark brows drew together in a brooding frown. 'I'm not totally devoid of human feeling, as you seem to think. But, to be brutally honest, marriage isn't something I've ever contemplated; the main reason I'm doing so now is because you told Theo that only your children can inherit the house on Zante. If I can please Theo and give him peace of mind by giving him the great-grandchild he longs for—a great-grandchild who will eventually inherit his old home—then that is worth any amount of money to me.'
For the first time since meeting Luke, Jemma caught a glimpse of the man within, and she had a grudging respect for him. 'Is Theo your only family?' she asked.
'Yes, and as you have said no to my proposal he's likely to remain so, but for how much longer I have no idea.' Luke's hands fell from her shoulders and he gestured, palms up. 'He is an old man, after all.'
Though she didn't want to admit she had anything in common with Luke, she knew how he felt. Her father was her only blood relative left. 'If I don't marry you, what will really happen to my father?' Jemma picked her words with care, the kernel of an idea forming in her mind. She had always wanted a child, and in her darker moments since Alan's death she had thought her chance was gone.
'Once the story breaks, which it's bound to do without any assistance from me because there are other shareholders, the worst-case scenario is that he will end up in jail. The best that he can hope for is that he will end up penniless.'
'And if I agreed, but with a few conditions of my own…?' Jemma knew she would never fall in love again, and although she had considered IVF in order to conceive a child she wasn't entirely happy with the idea. But now it appeared as though she had another choice—there was that word again!—not a perfect choice, by any means, but maybe it just might work.
'You're not really in a position to set any conditions, but I am listening.'
Did she really want to do this? Jemma wasn't entirely sure. For a moment she studied his implacable face. A muscle tensed along his jaw and she could sense a latent anger beneath the surface of his otherwise expressionless face. As he could have his pick of women, she hadn't been able to understand why he wanted her until he had mentioned the house in Zante. But now she intuitively recognised he had yet another reason. A man of Luke's ego could not stand rejection. She had rejected him twice…once after the night on the yacht and again two months ago—and he had not forgotten. Somehow knowing that made it easier for her to continue, because she knew he would soon have his fill of her and move on to another woman, and hopefully she would be left with a baby to love.
'I understand you travel a great deal with your work, and spend a lot of time in America and the Far East. That wouldn't suit me at all. I would want a guarantee that I can continue to live in London and continue to run my own business.'
Luke gazed down at her with an enigmatic gleam in his grey eyes. 'Agree to marry me and I'll accept your conditions, with a couple of provisos.' He wondered if she had any idea she was offering him the best of both worlds—a wife to bear his child in London, and the freedom to pursue the lifestyle he enjoyed. 'We live here in my apartment and you sell your house. No other men in your life, obviously, and I would expect you to stay with me when I am at home in Greece with Theo. As for the rest—as you say, my work takes me all over the world. I see no necessity for you to travel with me, and certainly not when you have our child.'
To Jemma there was something very seductive about the words our child. If she married Luke, she would not really be betraying the love she had for Alan, she told herself, because there would be no love involved in her relationship with Luke. Just a straightforward bargain to save her father and give her the child she longed for.
'Jemma, is that a yes or a no? Do we have a deal?' Luke asked, and, tilting her chin with one long finger, he added, 'You know it makes sense.' His voice was suddenly velvety deep, and dark in its intensity. 'Marry me and be the mother of my child.'
Her stomach knotted with tension. His finger on her chin seemed to burn like a branding iron, and she hesitated. Luke had told her once that sometimes one had to choose between the lesser of two evils, and she knew now he was right. What was worse? A daughter refusing to marry a man she didn't love and condemning her father to jail? Or a daughter marrying a man she did not love to save her father and also to create a child to love? Neither was particularly laudable, but on balance the latter seemed the lesser of two evils.
'Yes,' she finally agreed.
'Good.' Luke's hand fell from her face and he gestured at the cluttered table. 'Then let's get this cleared up. We have an engagement ring to choose before tonight.'
'We do?' And the enormity of what she had agreed to hit her like a punch in the stomach. Instinctively she glanced down and clasped her hands together, turning her gold wedding band around her finger. 'Is an engagement ring really necessary?' she murmured. It had never occurred to her that she would have to remove Alan's ring, and she wanted to delay the moment for as long as possible.
'Very necessary,' Luke said curtly, his hands closing around her upper arms. 'The whole point of an engagement ring is to declare that the woman is taken. Your husband has been dead for two years and you've lived in denial for long enough. Remove his ring before tonight; you don't need it any more.' Jemma tried to pull away, but Luke's fingers tightened. 'Face it, Jemma darling, I am your future.' he murmured, and he drew her inexorably closer into the heat and power of his tall frame.
Tension sizzled in the air. Angry and sad at the same time, Jemma saw the triumph in his wolf-like eyes and wanted to hit him. But before she could turn thought to action his dark head swooped and his mouth covered hers in a hard, demanding kiss. His tongue sought entry into the moist interior of her mouth, and when he finally lifted his head Jemma was sagging against him and fighting to breathe.
'Sealed with a kiss,' Luke mocked. 'Pity we haven't got time for more.' He grinned, his arms falling from her.
