Читать книгу Ruthless Revenge: Sinful Seduction: Demetriou Demands His Child / Olivero's Outrageous Proposal / Rafael's Contract Bride - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 14

CHAPTER SIX

ALEKOS HEARD THE words as if from a great distance. They echoed in his head as he stared at her in nonplussed confusion. Finally he managed, ‘You must really be desperate.’

She flinched, her eyes flashing, courage and fear together. ‘You don’t believe me.’

‘Why should I?’

‘Why would I lie? It’s easy enough to prove.’

Her calm certainty unnerved him as much as her initial statement had left him reeling. ‘You mean a paternity test.’

Silver eyes flashed again, and she pressed her lips together. ‘That’s exactly what I mean.’

For a few seconds Alekos was left completely speechless. ‘Why would you keep such a thing from me?’ he finally asked, his voice low and vibrating with suppressed emotion—far too much emotion to process. He didn’t know what to feel. Anger at Iolanthe for keeping something this huge from him? Wonder that he had a child? Incredulity was easier.

‘I tried to tell you back then,’ Iolanthe answered. Her voice shook but she kept his gaze. ‘When I came to your flat.’

‘You tried? You didn’t say anything of the sort!’ He took a deep breath, recalling that brief, tense interview. He’d been so angry, still smarting from her father’s shameful treatment of him, suspecting her part in the deception. And she... She’d been afraid. He remembered how she’d trembled, how her eyes had looked huge in her pale face. He’d told her to leave and she had, fleeing from the room as if he were chasing her out with a stick. ‘I asked you,’ he said, recalling that too. ‘I specifically asked you if you were carrying my child.’

‘And then you said if I wasn’t, I should leave immediately,’ Iolanthe fired back. ‘Hardly the friendliest of exchanges.’

‘We’ve never been friends,’ Alekos returned coolly. ‘But I expected an honest answer to my question.’

‘Why should I have answered you at all?’ Iolanthe demanded. ‘You clearly despised me.’ She took a deep breath, pressing a pale hand to her forehead. ‘But I don’t want to talk about that now. I want to know if you’ll keep Petra Innovation for Niko, since he’s your son.’

‘You have no compunction in showing your hand,’ Alekos observed. ‘The only reason you’re telling me he’s mine is because of the company. Because of what you want from me.’

‘Yes.’ She was completely unabashed. ‘I want Niko to have his birthright.’

Alekos’s lip curled. ‘How is it even his birthright, if he is not biologically related to Lukas Callos?’

‘I often wonder,’ Iolanthe returned, her lips pinched and bloodless, ‘how you charmed me that night. Because you certainly haven’t done so since.’

‘I wonder that I charmed you at all,’ Alekos snapped. ‘Or did you set out to be charmed, even seduced?’

Iolanthe shook her head slowly, confusion visible in her silvery eyes. ‘Why would I do that?’

‘I have no idea. Perhaps you wanted to frame me, or humiliate your father—’

‘What—?’

‘I know he kept you locked away, on leading strings. Was sleeping with me your childish way of getting back at him?’ He shrugged, not caring about her answer. Not wanting to care. ‘In any case I have learned not to trust anyone in your forsaken family.’ He turned away abruptly, not wanting to say more. He wasn’t going to whinge to Iolanthe about how her father had welcomed him into the Petra Innovation fold before stealing his idea fourteen years ago, leaving him desolate in so many ways. Grieving the loss of his livelihood, the loss of the friendship of a man he’d trusted. Most likely she wouldn’t believe him anyway, and, in any case, he’d had his revenge already. It just didn’t feel as sweet as he’d anticipated.

‘Will you require a paternity test?’ Iolanthe asked after a moment. She sounded tired, as if the fight had left her. Alekos turned around, noticing the way her slender shoulders sagged. She looked as if a breath would blow her over. Yet even as weary as she obviously was, she was still lovely. She wore a navy sheath dress that emphasised her willowy figure. She’d pulled her hair back with a clip, and a few inky tendrils curled about her heart-shaped face.

‘Of course I will,’ Alekos returned. Again he was struck by how unfazed she was by the prospect. She seemed unnervingly certain...and there could only be one reason why.

‘And when you receive the result?’ Iolanthe asked. ‘Will you then keep from liquidating Petra Innovation?’

His mind scrambled to make sense of how quickly things had progressed. A son. He could not imagine it, could not conceive—

And yet Iolanthe had conceived—and had never told him. It was a deception that he could barely grasp the enormity of, worse than anything she might have done before.

‘I will not make any decisions until your son’s paternity is known for certain.’

‘Fine. It should only take a few days. But in the meantime, promise me you won’t do anything to dispose of Petra Innovation.’

Alekos opened his mouth to retort that he would make no promises whatsoever, but then he stopped. If Niko was his son, he needed to completely rethink his plans. The realisation of how much could change left him scrambling for both words and thoughts. ‘Fine,’ he finally bit out.

Iolanthe nodded her acceptance. ‘Do you wish to make the arrangements for the test, or shall I?’

‘I’ll do it.’

‘Thank you.’ Iolanthe turned to go, and Alekos had the bizarre impulse to call out to her, make her stay. To say...what? He had no idea. There was nothing between them now...except perhaps, amazingly, a child.

* * *

‘I’m sorry, Iolanthe.’

Iolanthe closed her eyes, pressing her fingers to the lids as she battled a wave of fatigue. She felt too tired for shock or even sorrow; the bad news just seemed to keep on coming. ‘It’s all right, Antonis,’ she said. Some time over the last week, as the true and terrible state of Lukas’s affairs had come to light, she and her solicitor had progressed to first names. ‘It’s not your fault.’

‘He never told me...’

‘It’s all right.’

A few more pointless pleasantries and she hung up the phone, her mind spinning. Lukas had not only led the company into financial difficulty, but he’d done the same with his personal assets as well. Antonis had been looking into his client’s financial situation all week, and none of the news was good.

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 the right to agree to terms when you hid the truth from me for ten years,’ he cut across her, his words like a whip, scourging her and making her flinch. ‘I don’t negotiate, Iolanthe. Not in business and definitely not about this.’

She stared at him, her stomach churning so hard she felt she might be sick. She pressed her hand to her middle and took a few needed deep breaths. ‘You have to admit to some compromise, Alekos,’ she said as evenly as she could. ‘It doesn’t do Niko any good for us to be fighting over every little thing.’

‘We won’t fight.’

She eyed him in disbelief. ‘All we’ve done since we laid eyes on each other again is fight.’ She shook her head, fatigue warring with frustration. ‘I don’t even know why you seem to despise me so much.’

Alekos didn’t answer and Iolanthe glanced at him, surprised to see an emotion other than anger etched on his face. He almost looked...sorry.

‘I don’t despise you,’ he said gruffly.

‘But we’ve never been friends.’ Wearily Iolanthe parroted back his earlier words. ‘Still, for Niko’s sake, we need to make this as friendly as possible. You must see that, Alekos, no matter what you say about not negotiating.’

‘We’ll keep it friendly,’ Alekos promised, and for some reason his words caused alarm to ripple through her.

‘Thank you,’ she said, even though she felt as if she was waiting for the next blow.

‘We’ll keep it very friendly,’ Alekos continued. ‘Because I’m not going to be sidelined out of my son’s life.’

‘I never said—’

‘What were you thinking?’ Alekos demanded. ‘A weekend here, an evening there?’

Iolanthe blinked at him. ‘I wasn’t really thinking at all,’ she admitted. ‘Not that practically. I just wanted to keep Petra Innovation for my son.’

He let out a harsh laugh. ‘So at least I know you weren’t thinking about me.’

‘I’m sure that’s a relief,’ Iolanthe returned. ‘You made it clear you didn’t want my affection—’

‘Ten years ago,’ he finished, his tone one of curt dismissal. ‘You do realise that Niko is the heir not just to Petra Innovation, but Demetriou Tech?’ Alekos met her gaze, his eyes like burning embers, singeing her.

Shocked realisation sliced through her. ‘You would make him your heir...?’

‘I don’t have another.’

‘But you might marry,’ Iolanthe protested. ‘You might have other children—’

‘I will marry,’ Alekos affirmed. ‘And I will have other children. But Niko is my firstborn son, and he will be my heir.’

The coolly stated fact that he would marry put both Iolanthe’s head and heart in a spin, which was ridiculous, of course. Alekos was thirty-six years old. Of course he would marry at some point, and probably soon. Maybe he even had a woman already, waiting in the wings, ready and eager to become Kyria Demetriou. It had nothing to do with her.

‘You sound very sure,’ she said after a moment. ‘You haven’t even met Niko.’

‘I know he’s my son.’

Iolanthe tried to gather her scattered thoughts. ‘But what about this potential bride of yours? She might want the children you have together to—’

‘My potential bride,’ Alekos cut across her, his voice like a blade, ‘will want Niko as my heir.’

Iolanthe stared at him, flummoxed. ‘How—?’

‘Because,’ he continued implacably, ‘my prospective bride, my only bride, is you.’