Читать книгу Securing the Greek's Legacy - Julia James - Страница 10

CHAPTER FOUR

‘ARE YOU SURE he is not cold?’ Anatole frowned as he looked down at the infant sitting up in his buggy.

Lyn shook her head. ‘No, honestly, he isn’t. He’s got lots of layers over him.’

She glanced at the tall figure sitting beside her on the park bench they had walked to. It was a drier day than previously, but spring was still stubbornly far off and she could see why someone used to warmer climes would think it very cold. But it was Anatole Telonidis who had suggested that they take the baby outdoors. Probably, Lyn thought tightly, because a man like him was not used to being in a place as shabby as her flat. Not that this scrappy urban park was a great deal better, but it had a little children’s play area where Georgy liked to watch other children playing—as he was doing now.

Even though they had the bench to themselves, it seemed too small to Lyn. She was as punishingly conscious today of Anatole Telonidis’s physicality as she had been the day before.

How can he be so devastatingly good-looking?

It was a rhetorical question, and one that every covert glance at him confirmed was unnecessary. It took an effort of will to remind herself brusquely that it was completely irrelevant that she was so punishingly conscious of just how amazing-looking he was.

All that matters is that he wants Georgy to go to Greece...

That was all she had to hold in her mind. Not how strange it felt to be sitting beside him on a chilly park bench, with Georgy’s buggy pulled up beside them. A flicker went through her. Others would see a man and a woman in a children’s park with a baby in a buggy.

As if they were a family.

A strange little ripple went through her—a little husk of yearning. She was being the best mother she could to Georgy, her beloved sister’s son, but however much she tried to substitute for Lindy there was no one to do the same for Georgy’s father.

She pushed the thought away. He had her, and that was what was important. Essential. Vital. Whatever Anatole wanted to say to her this afternoon, nothing on earth would change that!

‘Have you given any more thought to what we spoke of yesterday?’ he opened. ‘Bringing Georgy out to Greece to meet his grandfather?’ He paused minutely. ‘I spoke to Timon yesterday.’ Anatole’s voice changed in a moment, and Lyn could hear the emotion in it. ‘I cannot tell you how overjoyed he is to learn of Georgy’s existence!’

Lyn’s hands twisted in her lap. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I just don’t know.’ Her eyes went to the man sitting beside her, looking at him with a troubled expression. ‘You talk about it being just a visit. But that isn’t what you said initially! You said you wanted Georgy to be brought up in Greece! What if you simply don’t let Georgy come back here with me? What if you try and keep him in Greece?’

He could hear, once again, the fear spiking in her voice. Resolve formed in him. ‘I need you to trust me,’ he said.

‘How can I?’ she cried wildly.

Anatole looked at her. Was it going to be like this the whole time? With her doubting everything, distrusting him, fearing him—fighting him? Because he didn’t have time for it—and nor did Timon. Timon had undertaken to talk to his oncologist, to find out whether he was too weak to try the strong drugs that he would have to take if he wanted to keep death at bay, even for a little while. For long enough to see his great-grandson and make him his heir, as Anatole so fervently wanted him to do.

He took a deep, scissoring breath that went right down into his lungs. He had promised he would do whatever it took to get Marcos’s son out to Greece, to ensure his future was there. But with the baby’s aunt resisting him every step of the way, so it seemed, was it not time to take the radical, drastic action that would dispose of all her arguments? All her objections?

It would surely disarm her totally. Yet he was balking at it, he knew. The idea that had sparked in his mind the afternoon before was still alight—but it was so drastic that he still could hardly credit that it had occurred to him at all!

But what else would it take to get her to stop fighting him all the time on what had to happen?

‘I understand your fears,’ he said now, keeping his voice as reassuring as he could. ‘But they are not necessary. I told you—there must be a way to resolve this impasse that does not entail conflict.’

Her eyes were wide and troubled. ‘I don’t see how!’ she exclaimed. ‘You want Georgy to be brought up in Greece, with his father’s family. I want to keep him here with me. How can those two possibly be resolved?’

Anatole chose his words with care. ‘What if you came with Georgy?’ he asked.

She stared at him blankly. ‘Brought him out to visit your grandfather?’

He gave a quick shake of his head. ‘Not just to visit—to live.’

‘To live in Greece?’ she echoed, as if she had not heard properly. ‘Georgy and me?’

‘Why not?’ Anatole’s eyes were studying her reaction.

‘But I’m British!’ she replied blankly, because right now it was the only thing that occurred to her.

The corner of his mouth curved, and irrelevantly Lyn thought how it lightened his expression—and sent a pulse of blood around her veins. Then he was replying.

‘Many British people live very happily in Greece,’ he said dryly. ‘They find the climate a great deal warmer!’ he said pointedly, glancing around at the bleak, wintry landscape.

‘But I haven’t got any accountancy qualifications yet, and even when I do I probably wouldn’t be able to practise out there. And besides, I don’t speak any Greek! How could I make a living?’

Anatole’s eyebrows rose. Had she really just asked that question?

‘It goes without saying,’ he said, and his voice was even drier, ‘that there would be no necessity for you to do so.’

His reply was a flash of her grey eyes that gave animation to her thin face.

‘I’m not living on charity!’ she objected.

Anatole shook his head. ‘It would not be a question of charity!’ he retorted. His tone of voice changed. ‘Timon would insist that you have an allowance.’

Her mouth pressed together. ‘So I’d be Georgy’s paid nursemaid? Is that what you’re saying?’

‘No!’ She was taking this entirely the wrong way, he could see. He tried to recover. ‘How could you be a nursemaid when you are going to be Georgy’s adoptive mother?’

He had thought his words would be reassuring to her, yet for a second there was again that flash of fearful emotion he had seen before in her eyes. His gaze narrowed infinitesimally. ‘Tell me,’ he heard himself saying, ‘is there some problem with your application to adopt Georgy?’

It was a shot fired with a calculated aim to expose any weaknesses in her claim. Weaknesses, he knew with grim resolve, he would have to exploit if she reverted to being as obdurate and uncooperative as she had been yesterday. But surely that would not be so—not now that they had finally reached the stage where they could at least discuss Georgy’s future without her flying into an emotional storm!

He watched her face, saw her expression close. His shot had hit home, he could see.

‘What is it?’ he asked bluntly.

Lyn’s hands twisted in her lap. Unease and fear writhed in her. But she had to reply—that much was obvious.

‘From the moment Lindy died,’ she said, her voice low and strained, ‘the authorities wanted Georgy taken into care and put up for adoption. Adoption not by me but by a childless couple. There are so many desperate for a baby!’

A cold spear went through Anatole. It was just as he had feared the moment Lyn Brandon had said that she was not Georgy’s birth mother!

‘Even now,’ she said tightly, ‘if I dropped my application they would hand him over straight away to a married couple!’

‘But you are his maternal aunt. That surely gives you a priority claim to him!’

The fear darted in her eyes again. ‘They say I’m too young, that I’m a student still, that I’d be a single mother—’ Her voice broke.

For a moment Anatole was silent.

‘But I’m not giving in!’ Lyn’s voice was vehement now. ‘I’ll never give in—no matter what they say or how much they drag their heels! I’ll never give up Georgy! Never!’

Her hands spasmed in her lap, anguish knifing inside her. Then suddenly her hands were being covered by a large, warm, strong hand, stilling their convulsion.

‘There is a way.’ Anatole heard himself speaking but did not quite believe he was doing so. ‘There is a way that could solve the entire dilemma.’

Lyn’s eyes flew to his. He felt their impact—read the fear in them.

‘You say that two of the arguments being used against your adopting Georgy are that you are still a student— unwaged and unmarried,’ he said. Part of his brain was still wondering whether he would truly say what he was about to hear himself saying. ‘What if neither of those things were true any more? What if you became a stay-at-home mother who could devote her days to Georgy—who had a husband to provide for you both and be the father figure that Georgy needs?’

She was looking blank. Totally blank.

‘I don’t understand,’ she said.

Anatole’s hand pressed hers. ‘What if,’ he said, ‘that husband—that father figure—were me?’

For a timeless moment she simply stared at him with huge, blank eyes. Then, with a jolt, she moved away, pulling her hands free from his. They felt cold without his covering clasp, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she say what was searing through her head.

‘That’s insane!’

Anatole gave a quick shake of his head. He had expected that reaction. It was, after all, exactly the reaction he’d had himself when the notion had first inserted itself into his brain yesterday, as he sought for ways to sort out the infernally complicated situation he was in.

‘Not insane—logical.’ He held up a hand. ‘Listen to me—hear me out.’ He took a breath, his eyes going absently to Georgy, who was still, he was glad to see, totally absorbed with chewing on his beloved set of keys while avidly watching the toddlers tottering about on the park’s play equipment.

‘This is what I propose,’ he said, turning his gaze back to Lyn.

She had gone white as a sheet, with the same stark expression in her face he had seen yesterday. It did not flatter her, he found himself thinking. But he brushed that aside. Her looks were not important right now. What was important was getting her to see the world his way—as fast as he possibly could.

‘If we were to marry, it would solve all our problems in one stroke. For the authorities here it would dispose of their objection to you being a single mother, as yet unable to support a child financially. Moreover, in addition to your being Georgy’s maternal aunt, the fact that you would be marrying someone who’s the closest thing to Georgy’s uncle as can be has to be compelling! And finally—’ his voice was dry now ‘—there would be absolutely no question about my ability to support a family financially!’

She was still staring at him as if he were mad. ‘But you’re a complete stranger! I only met you yesterday!’

And you are about as far removed from anyone I am likely to marry as it is possible to be!

That was the consciousness that was burning in her most fiercely, making her feel hot and cold at the same time, overriding all that he had been saying about the logic behind his insane idea!

Anatole gave a shrug. ‘All married couples were strangers once,’ he pointed out. There was still a sense of disbelief within him. Was he really saying this to the girl sitting beside him? Seriously talking about marrying her?

Yet the logic was irrefutable! It was the most effective way of achieving what had to be achieved—getting Marcos’s son out to Greece, to be raised as Timon’s heir.

‘Think about it,’ he urged. ‘I’ll give you time—obviously! —but I beg you to give it serious consideration.’

As he looked at her he thought, privately, that right now she couldn’t give serious consideration to anything short of a tornado heading for her—she was still staring at him totally blankly.

‘I can’t possibly marry you! It’s...it’s just the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard!’ Her voice was high-pitched with shock.

‘It isn’t absurd—’ he began.

‘Yes, it is! It’s completely absurd—and...and...’

She couldn’t go on, was bereft of speech, and he took ruthless advantage of her floundering.

‘The purpose of our marriage would be solely to ensure Georgy’s future,’ he said. ‘Once that has been achieved, then...’ he took a breath, never taking his eyes from her ‘...then there will be no need for it to exist.’

She blinked. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘This is what I envisage,’ Anatole explained. ‘Marriage between us will surely secure Georgy’s adoption—we are the closest living relatives he has—but once he has been adopted then there will be no compelling reason why we have to stay married. We can get divorced.’ His expression changed. ‘Provided Georgy continues to be raised in Greece.’

‘Why is that so important?’ she asked.

‘Timon will insist,’ he answered. He paused a moment. ‘Timon will make Georgy his heir. He will inherit the Petranakos Corporation when Timon dies—just as Marcos would have done, had he lived.’

Lyn frowned. ‘But you are his grandson too,’ she said. ‘Why won’t you inherit?’

Anatole gave a quick negating shake of his head. ‘I am Timon’s daughter’s son—I am not a Petranakos. I have my own inheritance from my late father and I do not,’ he emphasised, ‘seek Georgy’s. What I do seek—’ he took a scissoring breath ‘—are the powers required to run Petranakos until Georgy’s majority.’ His eyes rested on Lyn. ‘I do not need to tell you how very grave the economic situation is in Greece at the moment. Unemployment is rife and causing considerable distress. The situation at Petranakos is...difficult. And it has become more so since Timon’s illness. Worse, when Marcos was killed Timon decided to make a distant Petranakos cousin his heir—a man who, quite frankly, couldn’t run a bath, let alone a multi-million-euro business in a highly precarious economy! If he inherits,’ Anatole said flatly, ‘he’ll run it in to the ground and thousands will lose their jobs! I will not stand by and watch that happen!’

He took another breath and kept his eyes on Lyn, willing her to understand what was driving him. ‘I know exactly what I need to do to get it on track again and safeguard all the jobs it provides. But for that to happen Timon will insist that Georgy grows up in Greece.’