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The temptation to tell him precisely what he could do with his legal advisers was almost impossible to ignore, but common sense reared its logical head just in time, and Alyse released the safety chain, then stood back to permit him entry.
‘Thank you.’
His cynicism was not lost on her, and it took considerable effort to remain civil. ‘Georg’s room is at the rear of the house.’
Without even glancing at him, she led the way, aware that he followed close behind her. She didn’t consciously hurry, but her footsteps were quick, and consequently she felt slightly breathless when she reached the end of the hallway.
Carefully she opened the door, swinging it wide so the shaft of light illuminated the room. Large and airy, it had been converted to a nursery months before Georg’s birth, the fresh white paint with its water-colour murals on each wall the perfect foil for various items of nursery furniture, and a number of colourful mobiles hung suspended from the ceiling.
Fiercely protective, Alyse glanced towards the man opposite for any sign that he might disturb her charge, and saw there was no visible change in his expression.
What had she expected? A softening of that hard exterior? Instead there was a curious bleakness, a sense of purpose that Alyse found distinctly chilling.
Almost as if Georg sensed he was the object of a silent battle, he stirred, moving his arms as he wriggled on to his back, his tiny legs kicking at the blanket until, with a faint murmur, he settled again.
Alyse wanted to cry out that Georg was hers, and nothing, no one, was going to take him away from her.
Perhaps some of her resolve showed in her expressive features, for she glimpsed a muscle tighten at the edge of Aleksi Stefanos’s powerful jaw an instant before he moved back from the cot, and she followed him from the room, carefully closing the door behind her.
It appeared he was in no hurry to leave, for he entered the lounge without asking, and stood, a hand thrust into each trouser pocket.
‘Perhaps we could talk?’ he suggested, subjecting her to an analytical scrutiny which in no way enhanced her temper.
‘I was under the impression we covered just about everything this morning.’
Chillingly bleak eyes riveted hers, trapping her in his gaze, and Alyse was prompted to comment, ‘It’s a pity Georgiou himself didn’t accord his son’s existence such reverent importance.’
‘There were, I think you will have to agree, extenuating circumstances.’
‘If he really did love my sister,’ she stressed, ‘he would have seen to it that someone—even you—answered any one of her letters. He had a responsibility which was ignored, no matter how bravely he grappled with his own disabilities.’
His gaze didn’t waver. ‘I imagine he was tortured by the thought of Antonia bearing a child he would never see.’
‘The only bonus to come out of the entire débâcle is Georg.’
He looked at her hard and long before he finally spoke. ‘You must understand, he cannot be raised other than as a Stefanos.’
Alyse saw the grim resolve apparent, and suddenly felt afraid. ‘Why?’ she queried baldly. ‘A man without a wife could only offer the services of a nanny, which, even if it were a full-time live-in employment, can’t compare with my love and attention.’
His shoulders shifted imperceptibly, almost as if he were reassembling a troublesome burden, and his features assumed an inscrutability she had no hope of penetrating.
‘You too employ the part-time services of a nanny in the guise of babysitter. Is this not so?’ An eyebrow slanted in silent query. ‘By your own admission, you operate a successful business. With each subsequent month, my nephew will become more active, sleep less, and demand more attention. While you delegate, in part, your business duties, you will also be delegating the amount of time you can spend with Georg. I fail to see a significant difference between your brand of caring and mine.’
‘On that presumption you imagine I’ll concede defeat?’ Alyse queried angrily.
‘I would be prepared to settle an extremely large sum in your bank account for the privilege.’
She shook her head, unable to comprehend what she was hearing. ‘Bribery, Mr Stefanos? No amount of money would persuade me to part with Antonia’s son.’ She cast him a look of such disdainful dislike, a lesser man would have withered beneath it. ‘Now, will you please leave?’
‘I haven’t finished what I came to say.’
He must have a skin thicker than a rhinoceros! Alyse could feel the anger emanate through the pores of her skin until her whole body was consumed with it. ‘If you don’t leave immediately, I’ll call the police!’
‘Go ahead,’ he directed with pitiless disregard.
‘This is my home, dammit!’ Alyse reiterated heatedly.
His eyes were dark and infinitely dangerous. ‘You walked out on a legal consultation this morning, and now you refuse to discuss Georg’s welfare.’ It was his turn to subject her to a raking scrutiny, his smile wholly cynical as he glimpsed the tide of colour wash over her cheeks. ‘I imagine the police will be sympathetic.’
‘They’ll also throw you out!’
‘They’ll suggest I leave,’ he corrected. ‘And conduct any further discussion with you via a legal representative.’ He paused, and his eyes were hard and obdurate, reflecting inflexible masculine strength of will. ‘My stepbrother’s child has a legal right to his stake in the Stefanos heritage. It is what Georgiou would have wanted; what my father wants. If Antonia were still alive,’ he paused deliberately, ‘I believe she would have wanted her son to be acknowledged by her lover’s family, and to receive the financial benefits and recognition that are his due.’
Alyse’s eyes sharpened as their depths became clearly defined. ‘I intend having you and your family fully investigated.’
As a possible threat, it failed dismally, for he merely acknowledged her words with a cynical smile.
‘Allow me to give you the relevant information ahead of official confirmation.’
Beneath the edge of mockery was a degree of inimical anger that feathered fear down the length of her spine and raised all her fine body hairs in protective self-defence.
‘My father and stepmother reside in Athens. I, however, left my native Greece at the relatively young age of twenty to settle in Australia. Initially Sydney—working as a builder’s labourer seven days a week, contractual obligations and weather permitting. After three years I moved to the Gold Coast, where I bought land and built houses before venturing into building construction. The ensuing thirteen years have escalated my company to a prestigious position within the building industry. Without doubt,’ he continued drily, ‘I possess sufficient independent wealth to garner instant approval with the Family Services Department, and there are no mythical skeletons in any one of my closets.’
‘Hardly a complete résumé, Mr Stefanos,’ Alyse discounted scathingly.
‘How far back into the past do you wish to delve? Does the fact that my mother was Polish, hence my unusual Christian name, condemn me? That she died when I was very young? Is that sufficient, Miss Anderson?’ One eyebrow slanted above dark eyes heavily opaque with the rigors of memory. ‘Perhaps you’d like to hear that a sweet, gentle Englishwoman eased my father’s pain, married him and bore a male child without displacing my position as the eldest Stefanos son or alienating my father’s affection for me in any way. She became the mother I’d never known, and we keep in constant touch, exchanging visits at least once each year.’
‘And now that Georgiou is dead, they want to play an integral part in Georg’s life.’ Alyse uttered the words in a curiously flat voice, and was unprepared for the whip-hard anger in his.
‘Are you so impossibly selfish that you fail to understand what Georg’s existence means to them?’ he demanded.
‘I know what it means to me,’ she cried out, sorely tried. ‘If Antonia hadn’t written to Georgiou, if—’
‘Don’t colour facts with unfounded prejudice,’ Aleksi Stefanos cut in harshly. ‘The letters exist as irrefutable proof. I intend assuming the role of Georg’s father,’ he pursued, his voice assuming a deadly softness. ‘Don’t doubt it for a minute.’
‘Whereas I insist on the role of mother!’ she blazed.
‘You’re not prepared to compromise in any way?’
‘Compromise? Are you prepared to compromise? Why should it be me who has to forgo the opportunity of happiness in a marriage of my choice?’
His eyes narrowed fractionally. ‘Is there a contender waiting in the wings, Miss Anderson? Someone sufficiently foolish to think he can conquer your fiery spirit and win?’
‘What makes you think you could?’
His eyes gleamed with latent humour, then dropped lazily to trace the full curve of her lips before slipping down to the swell of her breasts, assessing each feature with such diabolical ease that she found it impossible to still the faint flush of pink that coloured her cheeks.
‘I possess sufficient experience with women to know you’d resent any form of male domination, yet conversely refuse to condone a spineless wimp who gave way to your every demand.’ Alyse stood speechless as his gaze wandered back to meet hers and hold it with indolent amusement. A sensation not unlike excitement uncoiled deep within her, and spread throughout her body with the speed of liquid fire, turning all the highly sensitised nerve-endings into a state of sensual awareness so intense it made her feel exhilaratingly alive, yet at the same time terribly afraid.
‘The man in my life most certainly won’t be you, Mr Stefanos!’ she snapped.
‘One of the country’s best legal brains has given me his assurance that my adoption application will succeed,’ he revealed. ‘This morning’s consultation in Hugh Mannering’s office was arranged because I felt honour-bound to personally present facts regarding my stepbrother’s accident and subsequent death. As to Georg’s future …’ he paused significantly ‘… the only way you can have any part in it will be to opt for marriage—to me.’
‘You alternately threaten, employ a form of emotional blackmail, attempt to buy me off, then offer a marriage convenient only to you?’ The slow-boiling anger which had simmered long beneath the surface of her control finally bubbled over. ‘Go to hell, Mr Stefanos!’
The atmosphere in the lounge was so highly charged, Alyse almost expected it to explode into combustible flame.
He looked at her for what seemed an age, then his voice sounded cold—as icy as an Arctic gale. ‘Think carefully before you burn any figurative bridges,’ he warned silkily.
Alyse glared at him balefully, hating him, abhorring what he represented. ‘Get out of my house. Now!’ Taut, incredibly angry words that bordered close on the edge of rage as she moved swiftly from the room.
In the foyer she reached for the catch securing the front door, then gasped out loud as Aleksi Stefanos caught hold of her shoulders and turned her towards him with galling ease.
One glance at those compelling features was sufficient to determine his intention, and she struggled fruitlessly against his sheer strength.
‘The temptation to teach you the lesson I consider you deserve is almost irresistible,’ he drawled.
His anger was clearly evident, and, hopelessly helpless, Alyse clenched her jaw tight as his head lowered in an attempt to avoid his mouth, only to cry out as he caught the soft inner tissue with his teeth, and she had no defence against the plundering force of a kiss so intense that the muscles of her throat, her jaw, screamed in silent agony as he completed a ravaging possession that violated her very soul.
Just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over, and she sank back against the wall, her eyes stricken with silent hatred.
At that precise moment a loud wailing cry erupted from the bedroom, and Alyse turned blindly towards the nursery. Crossing to Georg’s cot, she leant forward and lifted his tiny body into her arms. He smelled of soap and talc, and his baby cheek was satin-smooth against her own as she cradled him close.
His cries subsided into muffled hiccups, bringing stupid tears to her own eyes, and she blinked rapidly to still their flow, aware within seconds that her efforts were in vain as they spilled and began trickling ignominiously down each cheek.
This morning life had been so simple. Yet within twelve hours Aleksi Stefanos had managed to turn it upside down.
She turned as the subject of her most dire thoughts followed her into the nursery.
‘You bastard!’ she berated him in a painful whisper. ‘Have you no scruples?’
‘None whatsoever where Georg is concerned,’ Aleksi Stefanos drawled dispassionately.
‘What you’re suggesting amounts to emotional blackmail, damn you!’ Her voice emerged as a vengeful undertone, and Georg gave a slight whimpering cry, then settled as she gently rocked his small body in her arms.
‘What I’m suggesting,’ Aleksi Stefanos declared hardily, ‘is parents, a home, and a stable existence for Georg.’
‘Where’s the stability in two people who don’t even like each other?’ Damn him—who did he think he was, for heaven’s sake?
An icy shiver shook her slim frame in the knowledge that he knew precisely who he was and the extent of his own power.
‘The alternatives are specific,’ he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, ‘the choice entirely your own. You have until tomorrow evening to give me your answer.’
She was dimly aware that he moved past her to open the door, and it was that final, almost silent click as he closed it behind him that made her frighteningly aware of his control.
CHAPTER THREE (#ufc880091-a52e-5504-a6ec-0cc13958ae35)
ALYSE STOOD WHERE she was for what seemed an age before settling Georg into his cot, then she moved slowly to the front of the house, secured the lock and made for her own room, where she undressed and slid wearily into bed.
Damn. Damn him, she cursed vengefully. Aleksi Stefanos had no right to place her in such an invidious position. For the first time she felt consumed with doubt, apprehensive to such a degree that it was impossible to relax.
Images flooded her mind, each one more painful than the last, and she closed her eyes tightly against the bitter knowledge that adoption was absolute, so final.
If Aleksi Stefanos was successful with his application, he would remove Georg several thousand kilometres away to the opposite side of the continent. To see him at all, she would have to rely on Aleksi Stefanos’s generosity, and it would be difficult with her business interests, to be able to arrange a trip to Queensland’s Gold Coast more than once a year.
The mere thought brought tears to her eyes, and she cursed afresh. At least divorced parents got to share custody of their children.
However, to become divorced, one first had to marry, Alyse mused in contemplative speculation. Maybe … No, it wasn’t possible. Or was it? How long would the marriage have to last? A year? Surely no longer than two, she decided, her mind racing.
If she did opt for marriage, she could have a contract drawn up giving Miriam a percentage of the profits, thus providing an incentive ensuring that the boutique continued to trade at a premium. As far as the house was concerned, she could lease it out. Her car would have to be sold, but that wouldn’t matter, for she could easily buy another on her return.
A calculating gleam darkened her blue eyes, and a tiny smile curved her generous mouth.
When Aleksi Stefanos contacted her tomorrow, he would discover that she was surprisingly amenable. It was infinitely worth a year or two out of her life if it meant she got to keep Georg.
For the first time in the six weeks since Antonia’s funeral, Alyse slept without a care to disturb her subconscious, and woke refreshed, eager to start the new day.
With so much to attend to, she drew up a list, and simply crossed every item off as she dealt with it.
A call to Hugh Mannering determined that marriage to Aleksi Stefanos would reduce the adoption proceedings to a mere formality, and he expressed delight that she was taking such a sensible step.
Alyse responded with a tongue-in-cheek agreement, and chose not to alarm her legal adviser by revealing the true extent of her plans.
Miriam was delighted to be promoted, and proved more than willing to assume management of the boutique for as long as necessary.
By late afternoon Alyse was able to relax, sure that everything was in place.
A light evening meal of cold chicken and salad provided an easy alternative to cooking, and she followed it with fresh fruit.
The telephone rang twice between seven and eight o’clock, and neither call was from Aleksi Stefanos.
A cloud of doubt dulled her eyes as she pondered the irony of him not ringing at all, only to start visibly when the insistent burr of the phone sounded shortly before nine.
It had to be him, and she let it peal five times in a fit of sheer perversity before picking up the receiver.
‘Alyse?’ His slightly accented drawl was unmistakable, his use of her Christian name an impossible liberty, she decided as she attempted to still a sense of foreboding. ‘Have you reached a decision?’
He certainly didn’t believe in wasting words! A tinge of anger heightened her mood. Careful, a tiny voice cautioned. You don’t want to blow it. ‘Yes.’
There was silence for a few seconds as he waited for her to continue, and when she didn’t he queried with ill-concealed mockery, ‘Must I draw it from you like blood from a stone?’
If it wasn’t for Georg she’d slam down the receiver without the slightest compunction. ‘I’ve considered your proposition,’ she said tightly, ‘and I’ve decided to accept.’ There, she’d actually said it.
‘My parents arrive from Athens at the beginning of next week,’ Aleksi Stefanos told her without preamble, and she would have given anything to ruffle that imperturbable composure. ‘They’re naturally eager to see Georg, and there’s no reason why you both shouldn’t fly back to Queensland with me on Friday.’
‘I can’t possibly be ready by then,’ Alyse protested, visibly shaken at the way he was assuming control.
‘Professional packers will ensure that everything in the house is satisfactorily dealt with,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘Whatever you need can be air-freighted to the Coast, and the rest put into storage. The house can be put into the hands of a competent letting agent, and managerial control arranged at the boutique. I suggest you instruct Hugh Mannering to draw up a power of attorney and liaise with him. All it takes is a few phone calls. To satisfy the Family Services Department, it would be advisable if a civil marriage ceremony is held here in Perth—Thursday, if it can be arranged. Relevant documentation regarding Georg’s adoption can then be signed ready for lodgement, leaving us free of any added complications in removing him from the State.’
