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The Greek's Billion-Dollar Baby
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The man with the iron will...
Meets the woman who will change his life!
All the money in the world couldn’t save Leonidas from the pain—and guilt—of losing his loved ones. Since then, he’s forbidden himself all pleasure in life. Until he meets enchanting innocent Hannah at a lavish party in Greece...
Reeling from the discovery of her fiancé’s infidelity, Hannah is determined to swear off men. But her instant chemistry with Leonidas is undeniable. And for one night, they break all their rules, indulging in red-hot oblivion—with inescapably powerful consequences...
Hannah was about to go in search of Leonidas when he strode into the room, wearing only a pair of swimming shorts and a look that—in the seconds before surprise contorted his expression—showed his impatience with her arrival.
He was partying.
He was probably the center of attention, being just as fawned over and celebrated as his brother. Jealousy tore through her, but Hannah told herself it was outrage. Outrage that she’d been agonizing over their baby while he’d slipped out of bed and gone back to his normal life as though it had never happened.
If she’d held even a single shred of hope that he might be glad to see her, it disappeared immediately.
“Hannah.” His eyes roamed her face and then dropped lower, until he was staring at her stomach and she felt the force of his shock, the reverberation of his confusion. It slammed into the room, slammed against her, and if she weren’t so consumed with her own feelings, she might almost have felt sympathy for him.
“Yes,” she answered the unspoken question, her voice slightly shaky. “I’m pregnant. And you’re the father.”
Crazy Rich Greek Weddings
Wed to Greece’s outrageously wealthy billionaires!
The Stathakis fortune can buy Leonidas and Thanos, two of the world’s richest men, anything. Or so they think... But the arrival of a captivating Cinderella—or two—will prove that a billionaire can’t buy love. Instead, he’ll have to put something far more important on the line—his heart! Can a passion ignited under the Mediterranean sun change the Stathakis brothers’ lives...forever?
You’re cordially invited to the wedding of...
Hannah and Leonidas
The Greek’s Billion-Dollar Baby
Available now!
Alice and Thanos
Bride Behind the Billion-Dollar Veil
Coming soon!
Clare Connelly
The Greek’s Billion-Dollar Baby
Clare Connelly was raised in small-town Australia among a family of avid readers. She spent much of her childhood up a tree, Harlequin romance book in hand. Clare is married to her own real-life hero and they live in a bungalow near the sea with their two children. She is frequently found staring into space—a surefire sign she is in the world of her characters. She has a penchant for French food and ice-cold champagne, and Harlequin novels continue to be her favorite-ever books. Writing for Harlequin Presents is a long-held dream. Clare can be contacted via clareconnelly.com or on her Facebook page.
Books by Clare Connelly
Harlequin Presents
Innocent in the Billionaire’s Bed
Bought for the Billionaire’s Revenge
Her Wedding Night Surrender
Bound by the Billionaire’s Vows
Spaniard’s Baby of Revenge
Secret Heirs of Billionaires
Shock Heir for the King
Christmas Seductions
Bound by Their Christmas Baby
The Season to Sin
Harlequin DARE
Guilty as Sin
Her Guilty Secret
His Innocent Seduction
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
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For Emma Darcy, who wrote the first Harlequin I ever read and thus gave me one of the greatest gifts of my life—an enduring love of passionate, escapist romance.
There is a piece of Emma Darcy in every book I write.
Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EPILOGUE
EXCERPT FROM CLAIMING MY BRIDE OF CONVENIENCE BY KATE HEWITT
PROLOGUE
BEING EQUAL NUMBER TWO on the international rich list might have made Leonidas Stathakis the envy of the world, but Leonidas knew from personal experience that money was a poor substitute for having what you really wanted in life.
Billions in the bank didn’t take away the empty throb of loss that dogged your steps when you’d had to bury your loved ones.
Being rich didn’t take away the grief, nor the guilt, nor the pain and the sense of impotence at knowing you had put someone in harm’s way—that you had failed to protect them.
This was his fourth New Year’s Eve without his family. The fourth year he’d seen draw to a close with only memories of his wife, Amy, and their two-year-old son, Brax.
It felt like a lifetime.
When he closed his eyes, he saw her as clearly as if she were standing in front of him. He’d never forget the way she smiled, as though she’d struck a match inside and happiness was exploding out of her.
How could someone so full of life and vitality simply cease to exist? For all her strength, she’d been so weak at the end, so fragile. Ploughed into while walking Brax to the playground. What chance did either of their bodies stand against that hunk of metal, commanded by a madman?
Hair that had been a vibrant russet with eyes that were the same shade as the ocean beyond this hotel; he saw her as she’d been in life, and then, as she’d been in death.
He would never forget Amy Stathakis, nor the violent fate that had awaited her, murdered because of his father’s criminal activities.
Dion Stathakis had destroyed their family, and, with Amy and Brax’s death, had destroyed Leonidas’s life.
Anger surged inside him and he curved his fingers more tightly about his Scotch glass, wondering how many of these he’d had. Not so many as to dull the pain yet, though in his experience it took more than a few quick drinks in a bar to get anywhere near the obliteration he sought. Especially at times like this, when his memories were at their clearest.
Happiness surrounded him. Loud, exuberant noises of celebration. People seemed to love marking the close of a year, celebrating the arrival of a new one, and he could understand that. At one time, he’d felt just the same—he had celebrated life with Amy.
Now, every day was something to be got through. Every year was simply something he survived—without them. His very existence was a betrayal. How many times had he thought he would give his life to return theirs? He was the son of the criminal bastard—he, Leonidas, should have paid for his father’s crimes. Not his innocent wife and their beautiful son.
Bitterness threatened to scorch him alive.
He threw his Scotch back and, without his signalling for another, a hostess arrived at his table, replacing it with a substitute, just as he
’d requested. There were some perks to being the owner of the place, and this was one of them.
He lifted his head towards her in acknowledgement, noting dispassionately how attractive she was. Blonde hair, brown eyes, a caramel tan and pale pink lips that were quick to turn into a smile. A nice figure, too. She had the kind of looks he had once found irresistible.
But not any more.
Yes, he could have opened himself to the hint of desire that stirred inside him. That started in his gut and, as his eyes dropped to her breasts, to the hint of lace he could see beneath the cotton shirt she wore, spread like flame, threatening to make him hard right there in the skyline view bar of his six-star hotel on Chrysá Vráchia.
But he refused the impulse. He turned his attention to his Scotch, taking pleasure in denying his body any hint of satisfaction on that score. It had been four years. Four years without Amy, four years without knowing the pleasure of a woman. It was a habit he had no intention of breaking...
CHAPTER ONE
HANNAH HADN’T COME to Chrysá Vráchia to lose her virginity.
She hadn’t come to this stunning Greek island for any reason other than she’d been in shock and needed to escape Australia. Her controlling aunt, uncle, and the cousin she’d thought of as a sister—who’d been sleeping with Hannah’s fiancé.
She’d discovered them in bed together and been at the airport two hours later, booking the first available flight—which just happened to bring her here.
This stunning paradise she’d heard of all her life and wanted to visit. Golden cliffs, white sand beaches, turquoise waters, lush green forests—it was paradise on earth and the perfect place to chew through her honeymoon savings and rebuild her heart.
So apparently even the darkest storm clouds had silver linings.
No, Hannah hadn’t come to Greece to lose her virginity but as her eyes kept straying to the man across the hotel bar, she felt the pull of desire deep in her chest, and something more.
Vengeance? Anger? No. It was less barbaric than that, less calculated.
Fascination.
She looked at the man across from her, cradling his Scotch with a brooding intensity that tied her tummy in knots, and she felt a surge of white-hot desire that was as unfamiliar as it was intriguing.
Waiting until they were married had been Angus’s idea, but she’d gone along with it. She loved Angus, she liked the way he made her feel, the way he kissed her and held her tight. But she’d never really longed for him. She’d never trembled at his touch nor fallen asleep imagining his kisses.
And the idea of carelessly giving something away to a stranger, sleeping with a man she didn’t know, felt like the perfect way to respond to her fiancé cheating on her with her cousin.
Hannah’s chest tightened as flashbacks of that moment sliced through her. It was too raw. Too fresh.
Still...he looked like a man who wanted to be left alone. As she watched, a blonde waitress approached and said something sotto voce. He didn’t even meet her eyes when he responded, instead looking towards the view beyond them, the dark night sky inky for now—though it would soon be illuminated with the fireworks that marked the conclusion of one year and the start of another.
Midnight ticked closer and Hannah sipped her champagne thoughtfully.
She’d never approached a man before. She had no idea what to say. And it was a stupid idea. Hannah was twenty-three years old; there was a reason she was so woefully inexperienced with the opposite sex.
She was completely clueless.
No way could she click her fingers and change her personality, even if she wanted to.
Suppressing a sigh, she stood and moved towards the bar. If she wasn’t going to do something really out of character and have a random one-night stand with a stranger, then she could do something slightly out of character and get a little bit tipsy.
She stood and looked about for a waiter, moving to the other side of her table, and deciding to go direct to the bar when she couldn’t find one. But as she spun to the bar she connected with something impossibly hard and broad.
Something strong and firm, like concrete. Something that almost sent her flying across the room for the latent strength contained within its frame.
A hand snaked out to steady her and Hannah lifted her gaze, right into the obsidian eyes of the man she’d been unable to look away from for the past hour. He was rubbing his shoulder distractedly and a little pain radiated from her own, so she presumed they’d bumped into each other—hard.
‘It’s you,’ she exhaled on a tremulous breath, trying to swallow even when her mouth was bone dry.
‘It’s me,’ he agreed, his expression unchanging.
‘You’re like a brick wall,’ she said before she could stop herself. The man’s brows furrowed, and, if anything, he looked even hotter when he was all handsome and forbidding.
‘Are you hurt?’
My pride is hurt. My heart is hurt. But this was not what he was asking. ‘No, I’m fine.’ And something like courage lashed at her spine, so she heard herself say, ‘But I should at least buy you a drink. For getting in your way.’
A stern expression crossed his face and she felt the beginnings of embarrassment, certain he was going to say ‘no’, that she’d just made a complete fool of herself.
She bit down on her lower lip, wishing she could recall the words to her mouth. He stared at her for a long time, saying nothing, and with every second that passed her heart rate accelerated; she was drowning.
‘That is not necessary,’ he said, but made no effort to move. That alone was buoying. At least, Hannah hoped it was.
Her fingertips shook a little as she lifted them to her hair, straightening the auburn mane behind her ear. His eyes followed the gesture, a contemplative frown on his face.
‘I wasn’t watching where I was going,’ she said.
‘Nor was I. In which case, I should buy you a drink.’
Hannah’s heart turned over in her chest, desire like a wave that had picked her up and was dragging her with it.
‘How about I buy this round and you can get the next?’ she said with a lift of one brow.
It was by the far the most forward she’d ever been in her life but seeing Angus in bed with Michelle had robbed Hannah of the ability to feel embarrassment.
His frown deepened. Then, he nodded a little, just a shift of his head. ‘You have a deal, Miss...’
‘Hannah,’ she said, her own name emerging a little husky. She darted her tongue out and licked the outline of her lower lip, her eyes holding his so she saw the way the black shifted, morphing to inky and coal.
‘Hannah,’ he repeated, his European accent doing funny things to the simple two syllables, so her gut lurched.
‘And you are?’
Surprise briefly flashed on his features. ‘Leonidas.’
His name was just what she’d expect. Masculine, spicy and sexy, it suited him to a T.
‘You have a table?’ she asked, shifting her eyes to where he was sitting. A couple had already claimed it. She spun around and saw the same fate had befallen her own seat.
‘I was just on my way to my room.’ He said the words slowly, the frown not leaving his face, the statement almost spoken against his will.
But the question in the words didn’t fail to reach Hannah’s ears, nor her awakening libido. Desire throbbed low down in her abdomen, so heat flamed through her.
‘Were you?’
Plan for seduction or not, Hannah knew she was moving dramatically out of her realm of experience.
‘It has a view back towards Athens. Perhaps we could have our drink on my balcony?’
Hannah had no idea if he was seriously offering to show her the view, or if this invitation was for so much more—she hoped the latter, and had every intention of finding out.
It was
stupid. So stupid, so completely out of character, but she wasn’t acting from a rational place. Hannah had had her heart and trust broken and, wounded, she needed something. She needed to know she was desirable. She wanted to know what sex was all about. She had to push Angus way out of her mind.
And this man with his darkly quizzical gaze and mysterious, brooding face was everything she wanted—for one night only.
‘I...’ This was it. Her moment of truth. Could she do this?
The bar was busy and a woman passed behind Hannah, knocking her forward so Hannah’s body was once again pushed against Leonidas’s. This time, his hand reached out to steady her but it lingered, curving around her back and holding her there. Her eyes lifted to his, and doubts filled her. They were mirrored back to her, a look of confusion in his eyes, uncertainty on his face.
‘I want you to come upstairs with me.’ He said the words almost as though they were a revelation, as though he was completely surprised by the pull of this desire.
Hannah’s pulse was like a torrent of lava, hot and demanding in her bloodstream. She wanted that too, more than anything.
‘I just got out of a relationship,’ she heard herself saying, her expression unknowingly shifting so her green eyes were laced with sadness. ‘I was engaged, actually, until recently. I’m not looking for anything. You know, anything more than...’ She looked away, shyness unwelcome, yet impossible to disguise.
‘I don’t do relationships,’ the man said quietly. ‘I don’t generally do one-night stands, either.’
Generally.
The word was like an axe, preparing to fall. Hannah’s eyes slid back to his and the hand that was at her back, holding her pressed to him, began to move up a little, running over her spine with a possessive inquiry that warmed her from the inside out.
‘Nor do I.’
‘Theos...’ He said the word under his breath. ‘I didn’t come here for this.’
There was an undercurrent of emotion to his words, a sense of powerlessness that pulled at Hannah’s heartstrings. And if she weren’t completely drowning in this torrent of desire, she might have asked him about it. She might have insisted they find somewhere to talk. But desire was taking over Hannah’s body, and she reached her hand around behind her back so her fingers could lace with his.