Greek Bachelors: Bound By His Heir: Carrying the Greek's Heir / An Heir to Bind Them / The Greek's Tiny Miracle
Baubles? Baubles? Did he really think her so shallow that he thought jewels might be her motivation? ‘It isn’t,’ she said, her cheeks growing pink, ‘just about the money.’
‘Really? Woman claims money isn’t her sole motivation.’ He gave a cynical laugh. ‘Wow! That must be a first. So if it isn’t about the money—then what is it about?’
Distractedly, she rubbed at her forehead. ‘I want him—or her—to know who they are—to have a real identity. I want them to bear their father’s name.’
She saw the darkness which passed over his face like a cloud crossing the sun.
‘And I might not have the kind of name you would want to associate with your baby,’ he said harshly.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
But Alek shook his head as the old familiar shutters came slamming down—effectively sealing him off from her questions. Because marriage was a no-no for him—right at the very top of things he was never going to do. And although he’d shaken off his past a long time ago—he could never entirely escape its long tentacles. They reached out and whipped him when he wasn’t expecting it. In the darkness of the night they sometimes slithered over his skin, reminding him of things he’d rather forget.
His parents’ marriage had been the dark canker at the heart of his life, whose poison had spilled over into so many places. The union between a cruel man and a woman he despised so much that he couldn’t even bear to say her name. His mouth hardened. Why the hell would he ever want to marry?
Alek’s success had been public, but he’d managed to keep his life private. He had locked himself within an emotional shell in order to protect himself and he rarely let anyone get close. And hadn’t that been another reason for his anger with Ellie? Not just because her indiscretion had tarnished his hard-won business reputation, but because she’d broken his foolishly misplaced trust in her.
‘Maybe I’m not great husband material,’ he told her. ‘Ask any of the women I’ve dated and I’m sure they’d be happy to list all my failings. I’m selfish. I’m intolerant. I work too hard and have a low boredom threshold—especially where women are concerned.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Shall I continue?’
She shook her head, so that her ponytail swung from side to side. ‘I’m not talking about a real marriage. I’m talking about a legal contract with a finite time limit.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Because?’
‘Because I don’t want my baby to be born illegitimate—I’m illegitimate myself. But neither do I want to spend the rest of my life with someone who doesn’t even seem to like me. I’m not a complete masochist—’
‘Just a partial one?’ he put in mockingly.
‘I must have been,’ she said bitterly, ‘to have had sex with you.’
‘Pretty amazing sex, though,’ he said, almost as an aside.
Deliberately, Ellie pushed that thought away, even though just the mention of it was enough to start her body tingling. Yes, it had been amazing. It had started out in anger but it had turned into something else. Something passionate and all consuming, which had completely blown her away. Had he felt it, too—that incredible connection? Or was she doing that thing women were so good at doing? Believing something to be true because you wanted it to be true.
‘It doesn’t matter now what the sex was like,’ she said slowly. ‘Because the only thing that matters now is the baby.’
He flinched as she said the word. She could see his jaw harden so that it looked as if it were carved from granite.
‘Cut to the chase and tell me exactly what you’re proposing,’ he said.
The combination of heat, emotion and a lack of food was making her feel dizzy but Ellie knew she mustn’t crumple now. The thought of having Alek in her life didn’t exactly make her want to jump for joy—but it was still better than going it alone.
‘We have a small wedding,’ she said. ‘No doubt your lawyers will want to draw up some kind of contract and that’s fine by me.’
‘Good of you,’ he said sardonically.
‘We don’t even have to live together,’ she continued. ‘You just acknowledge paternity and provide support for the future. The baby gets your name and a share of your inheritance.’ She shrugged, because the words sounded so bizarre. A few short weeks ago she’d been thinking no further than her next promotion and here she was talking about paternity. ‘And after the birth, we can get ourselves a no-blame divorce. I think that’s fair.’
‘Fair?’ He gave a short laugh. ‘You mean I’m to play the tame benefactor? Sitting on the sidelines, just doling out money?’
‘I’m not intending to be greedy.’
He narrowed his eyes. ‘And you don’t think people are going to be suspicious? To wonder why we aren’t living together and why I haven’t spent any time with the mother of my baby?’
‘Given the way you’ve reacted to the news, I was assuming that being given a get-out clause would be your dream scenario.’
‘Well, don’t,’ he snapped. ‘Don’t ever assume anything about me, Ellie. That was the first mistake you made. I am not a “pussycat” as you seem to think, not by any stretch of the imagination.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ve changed my mind about that!’
‘I’m pleased to hear it.’ His gaze raked over her, lingering almost reluctantly on her belly. ‘I didn’t plan a baby and I certainly didn’t want marriage. But if these are the cards fate has dealt me—then these are the cards I’m going to have to play. And I play to win.’
She pushed her fringe out of her eyes. ‘Is that supposed to be a threat?’
‘Not a threat, no. But you haven’t yet heard my side of the bargain.’ Alek stared at her mutinous face. He knew what he had to do. No matter how much it flew in the face of everything he believed in, he was going to have to make sacrifices for his child in a way nobody had ever done for him. He was going to have to marry her. Because it was far better to have her by his side as his wife, than to leave her free to behave like a loose cannon, with his child helpless and without his protection.
His heart clenched. ‘If you want my ring on your finger, then you’re going to have to act like a wife,’ he said. ‘You will live with me—’
‘I told you that wasn’t—’
‘I don’t care what you told me,’ he interrupted impatiently. ‘If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it properly. I want this wedding to mimic all the traditions of what a wedding should be.’
‘M-mimic?’ she echoed, in confusion. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Can’t you guess?’ His mouth twisted into a bitter smile. ‘We will pretend. You will wear a white dress and look deep into my eyes and play the part of my adoring bride. Do you think you can manage that, Ellie?’
Ellie’s stomach began to rumble and she wondered if he could hear it in the strange silence which had descended. It seemed a long time since she’d eaten that apple on the train. In fact, it seemed a long time since she’d done anything which felt remotely normal. One minute she’d been waiting tables and the next she was standing discussing marriage with a cold-eyed billionaire who was telling her to pretend to care about him. Suddenly she felt like a feather which had found itself bouncing around on a jet stream.
‘You want to make it into some sort of farce,’ she breathed.
‘Not a farce. Just a performance credible enough to convince the outside world that we have fallen in love.’
‘But why?’ she questioned. ‘Why not just treat it like the contract we both know it is?’
He flexed his fingers and she saw the whitening of his knuckles through the deep olive skin.
‘Because I want my child to have memories,’ he said harshly. ‘To be able to look at photos of their mother and father on their wedding day, and even if they are no longer together—which obviously, we won’t be—then at least there will be the consolation that once we were an item.’
‘But that’s...that’s a lie!’
‘Or just illusionary?’ he questioned bitterly. ‘Isn’t that what life is? An illusion? People see what others want them to see. And I don’t want my child hurt. Let him believe that once his parents loved one another.’
Ellie watched his face become ravaged by a pain he couldn’t hide. It clouded the brilliance of his blue eyes and darkened his features into a rugged mask. And despite everything, she wanted to reach out and ask him what had caused him a hurt so palpable that just witnessing it seemed intrusive. She wanted to put her arms around him and cradle him.
But he looked so remote in his beautifully cut suit, with its dark fabric moulding his powerful limbs and the white shirt collar which contrasted against his gleaming skin. He looked so proud and patrician that he seemed almost untouchable, which was pretty ironic when you thought about it. She cleared her throat. ‘And when should this marriage take place?’
‘I think as soon as possible, don’t you? There’s something a little in your face about a bride who is so obviously pregnant. I’ll have my lawyers draw up a contract and you will move into my London apartment. We can discuss buying you a property after the birth.’
Ellie felt as if her old life was already fading. As if she’d been plucked from obscurity and placed in the spotlight of Alek’s glamorous existence and she was suddenly beginning to realise just how powerful that spotlight could be. But when she stopped to think about it, what did she imagine would happen next? That she’d carry on selling cupcakes while wearing his ring on her finger? ‘I suppose so,’ she agreed.
His blue gaze raked over her. ‘You’ve lost weight,’ he observed.
‘I get sick in the mornings, but it usually wears off by mid-afternoon.’
‘Yet you’re expecting to carry on working?’
‘I’ll manage,’ she said stubbornly. ‘Most women do.’
‘And after the birth—what then? Will your baby take second place to your career?’
‘I can’t say what will happen,’ she said quietly. ‘All I do know is that a child shouldn’t have to take second place to anything.’
They stared at one another and for a moment Ellie thought he was actually going to say something nice, but she was wrong.
‘You’re going to have to update your wardrobe if you’re to make a convincing bride, but that shouldn’t be a problem. As the future Mrs Sarantos, you’ll get unlimited access to my credit card. Does that turn you on?’
Ellie glared as she met his sardonic smile. ‘Will you please stop making me sound like some kind of gold-digger?’
‘Oh, come on, Ellie,’ he said, and briefly some of the harshness left his voice. ‘Didn’t you ever learn to make the best out of a bad situation?’
She felt a twist of pain as she turned away. Didn’t he realise he was talking to the queen of the positive spin? That she’d spent her life trying not to be influenced by a mother who was steeped in bitterness and regret. And hadn’t she vowed that her own life would be different? That she would make something of herself? She would be strong and most of all...independent. And now here she was, tying herself to a cold and unfeeling man because she needed security.
But that didn’t matter. None of it did. She was going to do whatever it took to give her baby a better life than the one she’d known.
Her heart clenched.
Even if it meant marrying someone who seemed to despise her.
CHAPTER SIX
ELLIE’S NEW LIFE began the minute Alek agreed to marry her and it felt like waking up in a parallel universe.
No more travelling across London, or a sticky train journey home to the New Forest. He didn’t do public transport, did he? And neither would the woman who was carrying his child. A sleek limo was ordered to take her home, but not before Alek insisted she eat something. Her attempts to tell him she wasn’t hungry fell on deaf ears and he sent Vasos out for warm bread, tiny purple grapes and a rich chickpea spread, which Ellie fell on with a moan of greed. She ate the lot and looked up to find him studying her.
‘You’re obviously not looking after yourself properly,’ he said repressively. ‘Forget working out your notice and move up here straight away. It makes perfect sense.’
‘I can’t leave Bridget in the lurch. She’s been very kind to me. I’ll need to give her a month’s notice.’
He hadn’t been happy about that, just as he hadn’t been happy when she’d refused the wad of banknotes he’d tried to press on her for any expenses.
‘Please don’t try to give me money in the street, Alek,’ she hissed. ‘I’m not some kind of hooker. And while we’re on the subject, I’m going to want my own room when I move into your apartment.’ The look of surprise on his face had been almost comical. ‘And that’s a requirement,’ she added tartly. ‘Not a request.’
It was late when the car eventually dropped her off in the New Forest—too late to speak to Bridget, but Ellie’s plan of telling her boss the following day was blown when Bridget walked into the shop with an expression Ellie had never seen before. The fifty-something widow who had treated her like the daughter she’d never had looked as if she was about to burst with excitement.
‘Sweet saints in all heaven—why didn’t you tell me?’ Bridget demanded, her Irish accent still discernible, even after three decades of living in England.
‘Tell you what?’ questioned Ellie, her skin prickling with an instinctive dread.
‘That you’re going to be married! And to a handsome Greek, no less! My, but you’re a secretive one, Miss Brooks.’
Ellie gripped the glass counter, forgetting the smudgy marks her fingers would leave behind. ‘But how—?’ She swallowed as she asked a question to which she already knew the answer. ‘How did you find out?’
‘How do you think?’ questioned Bridget, followed by a quick demonstration of her explosive laugh. ‘I got a call from the man himself late last night. He woke me out of a deep sleep, but he’s so full of the Greek blarney that I told him I didn’t mind a bit! He said he needs you at his side and he’s offering to compensate me so that you can leave early. Why, I can get ten shop assistants for the money he’s giving me—and still have plenty left over for the extension for the tea room! He’s a very generous man, Ellie—and you’re a very lucky woman.’
Ellie felt sick. Lucky? She felt about as lucky as someone who’d just tossed their winning lottery ticket onto a roaring fire. But she wasn’t stupid. Bridget didn’t care about her giving a full four weeks’ notice, because Alek’s offer had wiped out all other considerations. What price is friendship or loyalty in the face of all that hard cash? Was that what made him so cynical? she wondered—knowing everything had a price tag and if he paid enough, he could get exactly what he wanted?
‘I’ve got a girl coming in from the village tomorrow,’ continued Bridget chattily. ‘It’s all sorted.’
Ellie wondered how her boss would react if she told her the truth. We’ve only had sex the once and we weren’t supposed to see each other again. He’s only marrying me because there’s a baby on the way.
But what good would that do? Why disillusion someone for the sake of it? Surely it would be best to repay Bridget’s kindness by letting her think this was what she really wanted. Oughtn’t she at least act out the fairy tale—even if she didn’t believe in it herself?
‘It’s very sweet of you to be so understanding, Bridget,’ she said.
‘Nonsense. It’s an absolute pleasure to see you so settled and happy. Come round to the cottage tonight and we’ll have a slap-up meal, to celebrate.’
After work, Ellie went upstairs to her little flat and, sure enough, there was a text message waiting on her phone.
I’ve sorted things out with your boss. Car arriving for you at eleven tomorrow morning. Make sure you’re ready to leave. Alek.
If she’d thought it would make any difference, she might have been tempted to ping back a stinging reply, but Ellie was too tired to try. Why waste energy fighting the inevitable?
She packed up her meagre wardrobe, then went round to Bridget’s hobbit-sized cottage for a vegetarian goulash. Afterwards, as she walked home in the warm summer evening, she looked up at the star-spangled sky with a feeling of wistfulness. She was going to miss the beauty of the forest—with all those cute ponies which wandered around and then stood in the middle of the road, regularly bringing all the traffic to a standstill as they swished their feathery tails. She’d always dreamed she might one day live in a big city, but never in circumstances like this. Her future lay ahead like a big uncharted map, and she felt scared.
Yet the sleep she fell into was deep and she was startled awake by the sound of a car horn beeping from beneath her open window. She staggered out of bed and hastily pulled on a robe. She had overslept and the driver was obviously here.
Except that it wasn’t the driver. Ellie waited until the sickness had passed before poking her head out of the window, her breath catching in her throat when she saw Alek himself. He was leaning against a dark green sports car and it was just like the first time she’d seen him—when he’d been off duty in the spa hotel and she’d been trying very hard not to stare.
Dark shades covered his eyes and faded jeans clung to the muscular contours of his long legs. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to display powerful forearms and his hair glinted blue-black in the bright sunshine. Liquid desire began to unfold in the base of her belly—warm and unwanted and much too potent.
‘Oh,’ she said coolly, because she didn’t want to feel this way when she looked at him. She wanted to feel nothing. ‘It’s you.’
Lifting up his shades, he narrowed his eyes against the bright light. ‘I’ve had better greetings,’ he said drily. ‘Why don’t you open the door and I’ll come up and collect your stuff?’
‘There’s a key on the top ledge,’ she said, withdrawing her head and grabbing some clothes as she headed for the bathroom. By the time she emerged, washed and dressed—he was standing in the middle of her sitting room, not looking in the least bit repentant.
She slammed her soap bag onto the table and turned on him, her growing temper fuelled by the arrogant look on his face. ‘How dare you ring up my boss and offer her money to release me from my contract, when I told you I wanted to work out my notice?’ she demanded. ‘Does it give you a kick to be so controlling?’
‘If you can give me a single valid objection,’ he drawled, ‘other than the mild wounding to your ego—then I’ll listen. But you can’t, can you, Ellie? You’ve been sick every morning and you look like hell, but you still want to carry on. Not the greatest advertisement for a cake shop, is it—unless you’re trying to drive away the customers?’ He glanced down at the two battered suitcases which were standing in the middle of the floor. ‘This all you’ve got?’
‘No, there are several Louis Vuitton trunks next door,’ she said sarcastically.
He picked them up as easily as if they were full of feathers, rather than the entire contents of her world. ‘Come on. The car’s waiting.’
She took the keys downstairs to the shop, where Bridget was showing the new assistant all the different cupcakes. The Strawberry Shortcake and the Lemon Lovely. The Chocolate Nemesis and the bestselling Cherry Whirl. It was farewell to a simple life and a great leap into a sophisticated unknown, and Ellie’s chest felt tight with emotion as the Irishwoman hugged her, before waving her off in the shiny car.
The car roof was down and the noise of the traffic made conversation difficult but that was a relief because Ellie had no desire to talk and, besides, what would she say? How did you start a conversation with a man you barely knew in circumstances such as these? Staring out of the window, she watched as trees and fields gave way to tall buildings which shimmered in the summer sunshine like distant citadels.
Their journey took them through South Kensington, a place she’d once visited on a school trip. Thirty-five boisterous children had spent the morning in the Natural History Museum and afterwards had been allowed to descend on the museum shop. Ellie had used all her pocket money to buy her mother an expensive little bar of soap in the shape of a dinosaur. But the gift had failed to please. Apparently, it had reminded her—yet again—of all the things which were missing in her life. Ellie remembered her mother staring at the tiny bar as if it had been contaminated. Her voice had been bitter, her face contorted with a rage which was never far from the surface. If your father had married me, you could have afforded to buy me something which was bigger than a walnut!
And wasn’t that memory reason enough to be grateful that Alek wasn’t washing his hands of his responsibilities? Despite his authoritarian attitude, he was stepping up to the mark and shouldering his share of the life they had inadvertently created. He wasn’t planning to never pay a penny towards his baby’s upkeep, or never bother keeping in touch, was he? She stole a glance at his rugged profile. He wasn’t all bad. And following on from that wave of appreciation came another, which was rather more unwelcome, especially when his thigh tensed over the accelerator. He was so unbelievably hot and she hadn’t really stopped to think about what the reality of that might be, when she was closeted together with him in his apartment. Could desire be switched off, like a tap? Or would close contact only increase her awareness of just how gorgeous the father of her unborn child was?
Alek lived in Knightsbridge and his apartment was everything Ellie had expected and more, although nothing could have prepared her for its sheer size and opulence. Even the relative luxury of The Hog paled into insignificance when compared to each high-ceilinged room which seemed to flow effortlessly into the next. Squashy velvet sofas stood on faded silken rugs and everywhere you looked were beautiful objects. On a small table was a box inlaid with mother-of-pearl and a small gilded egg studded with stones of emerald and blue. She blinked at it as it sparkled brightly in the sunshine. Surely those stones weren’t real? She wanted to ask, but it seemed rude—as if she were sizing up the place and trying to work out its worth. But it wasn’t the value so much as the beauty which took her breath away. Everywhere she looked were paintings of places she’d longed to visit—upmarket versions of the posters she’d had hanging in her room at the hostel. Leafy streets in Paris and iconic churches in Rome, as well as the unbelievable architecture of Venice reflected in the dappled water of the canals.
She looked at them longingly. ‘Your paintings are amazing.’
‘Thank you.’ He inclined his head—the tone of his voice altering slightly, as if her comment had surprised him. ‘It’s something of a hobby of mine. You are fond of art?’
She bit back the defensive remark which hovered on her lips. Did he think someone who worked in the service industry was incapable of appreciating art, or that you had to be wealthy to enjoy it? ‘I enjoy visiting galleries when I get the chance,’ she said stiffly. ‘Though I’ve never seen stuff like this in someone’s home.’
But then she’d never been in a home like this. She walked over to one of the windows which framed a stunning view of the park and when she turned round it was to find him watching her, his blue eyes giving nothing away.
‘I take it you approve?’
‘How could I not?’ She shrugged, trying not to be affected by the intensity of that sapphire gaze. ‘It’s remarkable. Did you design it yourself?’
‘I can’t take any of the credit, I’m afraid.’ His smile was bland. ‘I had someone do that for me. A woman called Alannah Collins.’
Ellie nodded. Of course he did. Men like Alek didn’t choose their own wallpaper or spend ages deliberating where to position the sofas. They paid for someone else to do it. Just as he paid shop owners to release their staff early from a contract. He could do what the hell he liked, couldn’t he? All he had to do was to take out his chequebook. ‘She’s a very talented designer,’ she said.