Автор: Кейт Хьюит
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781474085199
isbn:
The savings account that had held her inheritance from her father was empty, their luxurious town house remortgaged, the private island Alekos had mocked given back to the bank. The only thing she had left was her forty per cent of Petra Innovation. But she still didn’t want to sell it.
Letting out a shuddering breath, she rose from her chair in the small morning room that she’d taken as a private parlour and crossed to the window that was open to the early summer’s night. The sultry air caressed her bare arms and she leaned her forehead against the shutter, wondering how Lukas could have behaved so foolishly. Left her with so little.
And what about Alekos? She hadn’t heard from him in four days, after he’d arranged a doctor to come and collect a swab from Niko’s cheek for the paternity test. Niko had been nonplussed, and Iolanthe had stammered some explanation about checking for diseases, treating it like some kind of vaccination. Thankfully Niko had just shrugged and gone back to his computer. But what about Alekos? He had to know by now that Niko was his son. Why hadn’t he contacted her?
Feeling cold despite the warm breeze, Iolanthe turned from the window. Perhaps she shouldn’t have told Alekos about Niko; she felt as if she’d opened up a Pandora’s Box of possibilities that she would never be able to control. She wished she knew what he intended, whether he’d reject Niko or be more involved in his life. Which possibility alarmed her more?
A light knock sounded on the door. ‘Iolanthe?’
‘Come in, Amara.’
The housekeeper opened the door, frowning at Iolanthe. ‘There is a man here to see you,’ Amara said. ‘He said his name is Alekos Demetriou. I’ve put him in the drawing room, but I can send him away...’
Iolanthe’s heart lurched, her hands going clammy. So Alekos had come after all...but for what purpose? ‘No, it’s all right. I’ll see him.’
Amara’s mouth tightened and she planted her hands on her ample hips. ‘This is the man who will destroy Kyrie Petrakis’s company?’
‘Liquidate it, yes. But I’m hoping I might have changed his mind.’
Amara looked doubtful. ‘Shall I serve tea?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’ She had no idea what Alekos intended to say, and she didn’t want to make him welcome until she did. ‘Thank you, Amara.’
The housekeeper withdrew and Iolanthe glanced in the mirror, ran a hand over her hair. She wasn’t in one of her few designer outfits to bolster her confidence; she’d been at home all day and wore jeans and a pale pink scalloped-edged T-shirt, with no make-up or jewellery. She wished she were dressed more professionally. She needed the armour.
She went downstairs, trying to quell the nerves that jangled at seeing Alekos again. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door, and then stopped short at the sight of him.
Gone was the high-powered and hard-polished CEO in his three-thousand-euro suit. Instead Alekos, like her, wore jeans and a T-shirt, his hair mussed as if he’d raked a hand through it, his face haggard.
Carefully Iolanthe shut the door behind her. ‘I take it you received the results of the paternity test.’
‘Yes.’ Alekos scrubbed his hands through his hair, making it stand up on end even more. ‘Why didn’t you tell me, Iolanthe?’ he demanded in a raw voice. ‘Back then?’
Iolanthe blinked, startled by this new Alekos, one she’d never seen before. ‘I told you why not.’
‘But a child. A son.’ His voice, already ragged, broke on the word. ‘How could you keep such a thing from me?’
Guilt sliced through her at the sound of emotion in his voice. Over the years she hadn’t let herself think about just how much she’d been depriving Alekos of by not telling him about his son. She hadn’t let herself think of Alekos at all. ‘I was afraid,’ she said. ‘And very young—’
‘Neither is an excuse.’ Alekos cut across her, his voice turning hard and unforgiving. ‘You knew this would change everything. I told you it would, on that very night. I told you I wanted to know—’
‘And then you tried to drive me away. You weren’t interested in me or anything I had to say. Be fair, Alekos.’
‘You want to talk about fair?’ he demanded, his voice an angry throb.
Iolanthe took a deep breath. ‘No, I want to talk about what’s going to happen now.’ Of course he couldn’t understand her perspective. He’d never been interested in her point of view, in her as a person. He’d taken her virginity and then kicked her to the door. And now he had the gall to blame her for everything. ‘Why are you here, Alekos?’
‘I want to meet my son.’
The starkly stated desire had Iolanthe stilling in shock. Yet what had she expected? That Alekos would keep Petra Innovation for Niko but walk away from the boy? She’d known what she was risking by telling Alekos the truth. She just hadn’t let herself face it.
‘You won’t deny me that,’ Alekos added, an ominous note entering his voice.
Iolanthe crossed the room to sink onto one of the velvet sofas. She felt as if her legs couldn’t hold her weight any longer. ‘No, I won’t deny you that,’ she said after a moment, when she trusted her voice to sound steady. ‘I knew in telling you, you’d want access to Niko.’
‘Access?’ Aleko repeated, and Iolanthe heard derision. ‘You think I want access?’
Iolanthe gazed at him uncertainly; his hair was still sticking up and his mouth was twisted with contempt but even so he looked shockingly handsome. The plain grey T-shirt clung to the sculpted muscles of his chest and the faded jeans moulded to his powerful legs. He radiated angry authority, barely leashed power. She admired his form even as she quaked inwardly. He scared her.
‘I thought that was what you were saying...’
‘If you think,’ Alekos said, taking a step towards her, ‘that I’m going to settle for some arrangement of occasional supervised visits with my son, you are more naïve than you were ten years ago.’
‘We can discuss the arrangements, of course,’ Iolanthe said after a pause. Alekos was glaring at her, his fists clenched, everything about him angry and accusing, and she had the terrible suspicion that she’d made things worse by telling him the truth of his son. Much worse. ‘Antonis, my solicitor—’
‘Don’t bring your damned solicitor into this, Iolanthe.’
She blinked, struck by his savage tone. ‘Naturally we’ll have to negotiate—’
‘No.’ The word was flat, unyielding, without so much as a whisper of compromise.
Iolanthe drew herself up. She wasn’t twenty years old and cringingly naïve any more. ‘This isn’t another corporate takeover, Alekos. You can’t bully me. We’ll agree to terms—’
‘You forfeited СКАЧАТЬ