Читать книгу The Greek's Billion-Dollar Baby / The Innocent's Emergency Wedding - Natalie Anderson - Страница 17

HIS STATE-OF-THE-ART HELICOPTER flew them from the yacht to the airport, where his private jet was waiting.

It was the kind of plane Hannah had flown to Italy aboard, the kind that commercial airlines used, only it bore the name ‘Leonidas Stathakis’ in gold down the side. When she stepped on board it was exactly like walking into a plush hotel.

As with the yacht, everything was white or beige, and incredibly comfortable. Enormous seats, like armchairs, chandeliers made of crystal, and, deeper into the plane, a boardroom, a cinema and four bedrooms.

‘Have a seat.’ Leonidas indicated a bank of chairs, and as she did she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was more like a job interview than anything else.

For the hundredth time since leaving his yacht, since lifting up into the sky and hovering over the picture-perfect Capri marina, Hannah questioned the wisdom of what she was doing.

But every time doubt reared its head and begged her to reconsider, she heard his words anew. ‘My wife was murdered. As was my two-year-old son.’ And a frisson of terror sprinted down her spine and she knew she would do anything to avoid that same fate befalling their daughter.

Every primal, maternal instinct she possessed roared to life. She wouldn’t allow their child to be harmed.

And nor would he.

She’d felt that promise from him and trusted him, had known he would lay down his own life if necessary to protect hers, to protect their child’s.

And suddenly, the world seemed frightening and huge, and Hannah knew that if she walked away from Leonidas now, she would be alone, with unknown dangers lurking, with threats to their child she couldn’t possibly appreciate, let alone avoid.

‘The usual month-long notification period for weddings will be waived,’ he explained, sitting opposite her, his long legs encroaching on her space so that if she wasn’t very careful, they would be touching and the little fires still buzzing beneath her skin would arc into full-blown wildfires once more.

It took her a moment to collect her mind from the fears that were circulating and bring herself back to the present. ‘Why?’

‘What do you mean?’

Her sea-green eyes showed confusion. ‘Well, isn’t that the law? Why would that be changed for us?’

He lifted a brow and comprehension dawned.

‘Because you asked for it to be, and you’re Leonidas Stathakis.’

He shrugged. ‘Yes.’

‘And you get whatever you want?’

His eyes were like coal once more. ‘No.’

Her heart twisted because of course he didn’t. He’d just told her he’d lost his family—clearly his life wasn’t that of a charmed man.

‘Why rush, though, Leonidas?’

All of his attention was on her and she trembled for a different reason now, as the heat of his gaze touched something deep in her soul, stirring the remnants of their passion and desire anew. She swallowed, her throat dry, her cheeks blushing pink.

‘Because there is no point in delay. Because I want you to be protected from this day, this moment. I will take no risks with our daughter’s life,’ he said firmly. ‘Nor with yours. You should not have been brought into this.’

She opened her mouth to confront him, but he continued. ‘Having sex with you was a moment of weakness, a stupid, selfish decision that I regretted instantly. Believe me, Hannah, if I could take that back, if I could have never met you…’ He shook his head, looking away, as the plane began to move on the runway.

‘I am sorry to have drawn you into my world. I am sorry that we must marry, sorry that we are having a child together. It is my fault, all of it. I cannot change that night, what happened between us, but I can do my damned best to ensure no further harm befalls you.’

‘Harm?’ she repeated, the word just a croak. ‘You think of this pregnancy as harm?’

‘I think it is a mistake,’ he muttered. ‘But one we must live with.’

Her temper spiked, disbelief at his callous words making her chest hurt. ‘How can you talk about our baby like that?’ she found herself whispering, even though that ‘baby’ was still very much inside her.

‘You said as much yourself,’ he pointed out logically. ‘You didn’t want this.’

‘I didn’t plan on it happening,’ she corrected caustically. ‘I’m twenty-three years old; I thought children would be way off in the future.’

He dipped his head in silent concession.

‘But, Leonidas, almost as soon as I learned of this pregnancy, I have loved this baby, and I have wanted our daughter, and I have known I would put this child first. For ever and always.’

He digested her words, his expression giving little away, and then he nodded, as the plane hurtled faster down the runway before lifting into the sky.

‘And in marrying me, I understand you are doing just that—putting our baby first. You do not wish for this marriage, and nor do I.’ He ground his teeth together. ‘And yet, for this child, here we are.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, not seeing the way her face paled at his harshly delivered words. ‘I have some questions for you. My lawyer emailed them across.’

‘Questions?’ It was a rapid change of subject, one that made her head spin. ‘What for?’

‘The marriage licence. The prenuptial agreement. Setting up your bank accounts and the family trust.’

‘Woah.’ She was still reeling from his repeated insistence of how little he wanted this marriage, and, even though he was surely echoing her own thoughts, hearing them voiced made her head spin a little. It was all too much, too soon.

‘Can’t we just…take it one day at a time?’

‘Let me make this clear,’ he said, leaning forward, his expression that of a hard-nosed tycoon.

She swallowed, but refused to be cowed by his closeness, by his look of steel. ‘Yes?’

‘One week from today we will be married. You will be my wife: Mrs Hannah Stathakis. You will be marrying someone who is worth over a hundred billion American dollars. Your life, as you know it, is about to cease completely. There is no “taking it one day at a time”. In what? Three months? Four? We will have a child. That is the deadline hanging over our heads. Within four months, we need to be able to find a way to relate, to exist as parents. We cannot delay. Surely you see that?’

It was all so shocking, so impossible to comprehend and also so reasonable. She heard his words and closed her eyes, because the final sentence was what really got through to her.

His net worth was awe-inspiring, his suggestion that she too might be worth a fortune, even his reminder that their daughter would inherit such a sum, were all details that caused her heart to pound, and not necessarily in a good way. But what he’d said that had really spoken to Hannah had been right at the end.

They had a deadline. A tiny little time bomb ticking away inside her belly.

They needed to find a way to make this work and he was showing himself to be cognisant of that.

‘Your full name is Hannah May?’

‘Hannah Grace May.’ She nodded, tightening her seat belt and looking out of the window on autopilot. Capri was tiny beneath them, just a beautiful picture-book piece of land, looming from the sea, all verdant green against the deep blue of the Med, the superyachts tiny white shapes now, clean and crisp.

Was it really only that morning she’d flown in over Italy, and stared down at this exact same view? How certain she’d been then of being able to tell Leonidas she was pregnant and then depart, confident he’d accept her suggestion of being a small but vital part of their daughter’s life.

‘Birth date?’

She responded, thinking back to her last birthday, right before Christmas. Angus had thrown her a surprise dinner party and she’d pretended to be thrilled, but Hannah hated surprises, and she’d wondered how he couldn’t know that about her. She’d wondered how he could think she’d like being the centre of attention like that, with everyone in the restaurant staring at her, waiting for her to smile and make a little speech thanking them for coming.

Hannah didn’t like surprises but she’d chalked the party up to something they’d laugh about in ten years’ time. Besides, he’d gone to a huge amount of effort, she wasn’t about to be ungrateful in the face of that.

She’d had no idea, though, that a way bigger surprise had been in store for her, nor that his ‘effort’ in arranging such an elaborate party was undoubtedly his way of compensating for the fact he was sleeping with Hannah’s cousin behind her back.

Her jaw tightened, and unconsciously she gripped her hands tightly in her lap, the past rushing towards her, wrapping around her, forcing her to look at it, to be in it even when it was strangling her. To remember the sight of her cousin and her fiancé, their limbs entwined, the dark black sheets of Angus’s bed in stark contrast to their flesh, Michelle’s white-blonde hair glistening in the evening light.

It was a betrayal on two fronts. That her fiancé would cheat on her was bad enough, but with someone she’d been raised to think of as a sister?

Indignation and hurt made her breath burn a little.

Capri swam beneath her, ancient and striking, and it offered a hint of perspective. How many millions of people had walked those shores, swum in these seas, each of them with their own problems and concerns, none of those concerns mattering, really, in the huge scheme of life and this earth? One day, she’d forget the sting of this betrayal, the second loss of family she’d had to endure.

‘Parents’ names?’

She swept her eyes shut, thinking of her biological parents, seeing her mother’s smile as she tucked Hannah into bed, stroking her hair, singing their goodnight song.

‘Ellie—Eleanor—and Brad.’

There were more questions and she answered them matter-of-factly—it was easier to simply provide the information than to launch into explanations with each point.

‘Why did your engagement end?’

That question had her swivelling her head to him, and she was grateful that a flight attendant chose that exact moment to enter the cabin, offering drinks.

‘Just water,’ Hannah murmured.

‘Coffee.’ He focussed on Hannah. ‘Are you hungry?’

She was. ‘A little.’

‘And some dinner.’

‘Yes, sir.’

The attendant left, and Hannah thought—for a moment—Leonidas might have forgotten the question he’d posed. But of course he hadn’t. This man probably never forgot a thing. ‘Your fiancé?’

‘Right.’ She was surprised at how well she’d kept her voice neutral.

‘He cheated on me.’ She shrugged as though it didn’t matter. ‘It kind of killed my interest in marrying him.’

‘I can imagine it would.’ He was watching her as though she were a puzzle he could put back together if only he had enough time. ‘You hadn’t slept with him. His idea, or yours?’

‘His.’

His expression showed surprise. ‘Why?’

The flight attendant reappeared with drinks, placing them down on the armrest table each had in their seat and leaving again.

‘Romance.’

Leonidas lifted a brow. ‘You think sex isn’t romantic?’

Heat exploded through her body and she clamped her knees close together to stop them from shaking. Sex with Leonidas had gone beyond romance. It had been passion and fire, everything she could imagine wanting from a lover.

‘I wouldn’t know.’ She dipped her eyes lower, studying the carpet on the floor of the aeroplane as though it were a fascinating work of art.

‘So how come you were a virgin?’ he pushed.

Hannah lifted her gaze, forcing herself to meet his curious eyes. ‘We decided we’d wait.’

‘There was no one before him?’

She bit down on her lip, shaking her head from side to side. ‘Is that so unusual?’

His expression showed cynicism and disbelief. ‘In my experience, yes.’

She laughed then, shaking her head a little. ‘Stop looking at me like that.’

‘Like what?’

‘As though I’m some kind of… I don’t know. As though I’m an alien.’

‘Your inexperience is rare, that’s all,’ he corrected. ‘Particularly given the fact you were engaged.’

‘Angus and I…’ She swallowed, the bitterness impossible to completely suppress. ‘We were friends for a long time. The dating thing came out of nowhere and I guess our relationship didn’t completely transition. Sex wasn’t a drawcard for me. I guess it wasn’t for him, either.’

‘You did not desire him?’

Ridiculously, Hannah felt a buzz of disloyalty at admitting as much. ‘Not really. We weren’t about that.’

‘What were you “about”?’

‘I loved him,’ she responded, simply, ‘and I thought he loved me. That was enough.’

Leonidas nodded thoughtfully. ‘So that was also a pragmatic marriage.’

Hannah’s eyes widened at his description. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You agreed to marry a man simply because it made sense, because you thought you loved each other, without having any idea if you were physically compatible. So this marriage—ours—already has more going for it.’

Hearing him refer to their marriage caused her heart to trip a little, banging against her sternum. ‘How do you figure? Angus was one of my closest friends…’

‘Which means very little given that he betrayed your trust and slept around behind your back.’

‘Woah. Don’t go easy on me, will you?’

‘I don’t think you want anyone to go easy on you, Hannah May.’

She startled a little at his unexpected perceptiveness. ‘It was less than six months ago. It’s still kind of raw.’

His expression barely shifted yet she had the feeling he was saving that little revelation, storing it away. ‘He cheated on you. He doesn’t deserve a second thought.’

She nodded, having said as much to herself.

‘Is he still with her?’

Hannah reached for her water, sipping it, trying to tamp down on that little bundle of pain. ‘No. Not according to my aunt.’

Leonidas nodded sharply, as if filing away that information. ‘There is no love between you and me, Hannah, but there is desire enough to burn us alive if we are not careful. And there is a baby—which we both want to protect and cherish.’

‘Yes. I do.’

‘Neither of us wanted this, but we can make our marriage a success.’ He said it with such fierce determination she almost laughed, as though she were simply a property he wanted to acquire, a piece of real estate he needed to buy.

Her own questions zipped through her. She sipped her water, balling her courage. ‘Your wife and son…when did they…?’

His eyes were coal-like in his autocratic face. ‘Almost five years ago.’

‘I’m so sorry.’ She spoke gently, softly. ‘You said they were murdered?’

His eyes narrowed and his skin paled almost imperceptibly. ‘Yes.’

‘By whom?’

He held a hand up, silencing her with the gesture. ‘I have no intention of discussing it, Hannah. My first marriage is off limits.’

The words smarted and she couldn’t resist pointing out his hypocrisy. ‘But you were just asking me about my fiancé.’

‘You were happy to talk about it.’

Hannah’s brow furrowed. ‘No, I wasn’t. I answered your questions because we’re getting married.’ How strange those words felt in her mouth. ‘And if you’re going to be my husband, it seems like the kind of thing you have a right to know about.’

He tilted his head in concession but his gaze was steady. ‘I will not discuss Amy and Brax.’

Hannah expelled an angry rush of breath. ‘Well, that seems kind of dumb.’

He clearly hadn’t been expecting that response. ‘Oh, really?’ There was danger in the silky drawl.

‘Yeah, really.’ The flight attendant returned, brandishing a platter loaded with Italian delicacies. Cheeses, ham, fruit, vegetable sticks and dips, breads, olive oil and vinegar. The aroma hit her in the gut and she realised she was actually starving.

But other feelings still took precedence. When they were alone again, she continued, ‘You were married and had a son, and you lost them. You lost your family.’

Her voice caught because she knew more than enough about how that felt—to be safe in the bosom and security of your loved ones one day, then to be adrift at sea, cast out, alone, bereft, with none of the usual place markers to help you find your bearings.

‘Thank you for the neat recitation of this fact.’

Her nostrils flared. ‘I only mean that’s a huge part of you. Don’t you think our child will want to learn about her half-brother one day? That’s a part of her life.’

Despite the fact his expression remained the same, his breath grew louder, and she would have sworn she saw panic cross his eyes.

‘No.’ He said the word like a curse, harsh and compelling.

Hannah sat perfectly still.

‘She will never know about Brax. Never.’

Hannah’s heart thumped hard in her chest.

‘I will not speak of them. Not to you, not to her, not to anyone.’

She truly didn’t think he meant it as an insult—he was caught on the back foot and the sheer strength of his emotions made him speak without thinking. But the vitriol in the statement sliced through her, filling her organs with acid.

‘You’re seeing this marriage, and our daughter, as an abstract concept,’ she said gently, even when her heart was hurting. ‘You’re thinking of her as a baby only. What about when she’s ten? Fifteen? Twenty? When you and she are friends as well as family, when she’s sitting here where I am, on a plane, opposite you, and she’s asking her father about his life. Do you really think you can keep such a huge part of yourself shielded from her? And me, for that matter?’

He drank his coffee, before piercing her with his jet-black eyes. ‘Yes.’

‘You’re being incredibly obtuse and naïve.’ But the words lacked zing. They were said with sympathy. No one knew more about the toll grief took when it was kept locked deep inside a person.

‘I am sorry you think so.’ He pushed his untouched plate aside and pulled a newspaper from the armrest. He flicked it up, pointedly blanking her.

It was galling, and only the fact that his stance was obviously driven by a deep, painful sadness kept her silent.

He didn’t want to talk about his family. Yet.

They barely knew each other, despite this bizarre agreement they’d entered into. They would marry—in a week—and the very idea stirred her pulse to life. But despite the marriage, they’d spent only a few hours in one another’s company. They were virtually strangers. Of course he didn’t want to crack his heart open and lay everything out before her.

He was guarding his privacy, as befitted the newness of all this. Over time, as they grew to know one another, he was bound to change, to open up to her more.

She lifted a strawberry, popping it in her mouth, tasting the sweetness, relishing its freshness. She wanted him to trust her, and she had to show him how. To keep opening up to him, even when it felt counterintuitive, even when the past had shown her to be more guarded with herself, to protect her feelings.

‘I felt undesirable,’ Hannah murmured, reaching for another strawberry.

Leonidas pushed the top of the paper down, so his eyes could meet hers. There was a trace of coldness there, from their earlier conversation. She pushed on regardless.

‘With Angus. I didn’t really feel anything for him, physically, and he suggested we wait until we were married, so I agreed. I heard about couples not being able to keep their hands off each other and, honestly, I thought there was something wrong with me.’

She bit down on her lower lip thoughtfully. ‘I presumed I just wasn’t really sexual. I thought he wasn’t, either. Then I saw him in bed with someone else, and I found out they’d been sleeping together for over a month, and the penny dropped. He was sexual. He liked sex. He just didn’t want me.’

Leonidas placed the paper on his knees, his steady gaze trained on her face.

‘I never felt like I wanted to rip a guy’s clothes off. It was as though hormones left me completely behind.’ She shrugged and then homed her own gaze in, focussing on his lips. Lips that were strong in his face, powerful and compelling. Lips that had kissed her and tipped her world upside down.

‘But you…’

He arched a brow, silently prompting her to continue.

‘You left me breathless,’ she admitted, even when a part of her wondered if she should say as much, if it didn’t leave her exposed and vulnerable, weakened in some way. ‘I can’t explain it. I felt desire for the first time in my life and I…’

‘Go on,’ he prompted, the words a little throaty, and she was so glad: glad that maybe he was affected by her confession in some way.

‘I felt desirable for the first time in my life, too. I liked it. I liked the way you looked at me.’ She turned away now, clearing her throat, looking towards the window.

Leonidas leaned forward, surprising her by placing his hand on hers. Sparks shot from her wrist and through her whole body. ‘Your fiancé was an idiot for giving you a moment’s doubt on this score.’

Her laugh was dismissive, but he leaned further forward, so their knees brushed. ‘You are very, very sexy,’ he said, simply, and heat began to burn in her veins.

‘I don’t mean that,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘You don’t need to… I just meant to explain…’

‘I know what you meant.’ He sat back in his seat, regarding her once more. ‘And I am telling you that you are a very sensual woman. You have no idea how I have been tormented by memories of that night, Hannah Grace May.’