Greek's Baby Of Redemption

‘Yes, why?’ he reiterated. ‘Why are you not willing even to consider my offer? Not even a single question as to the nature of our arrangement?’

‘You’ve already made the nature quite clear—’

‘You mean sex?’

‘Well, yes,’ she nearly spluttered.

‘You object to having sex with your husband?’

‘I object to marrying someone I don’t feel anything for, someone I don’t even know—’

‘Yet people have been doing that for centuries. Millennia.’

‘Even so...’

‘You told me you weren’t interested in romance.’

‘Not at this point in my life, no.’

‘Or perhaps ever, I believe your words were. So...?’

‘That doesn’t mean I want to marry you.’ She sounded exasperated now. Alex allowed himself a cold little smile.

‘Would five million euros change your thinking?’

Her mouth opened. Closed. And then again. Her eyes wide and as brown and soft as pansies. ‘That’s a lot of money,’ she finally said, her voice faint.

‘Indeed.’ He cocked his head. ‘Would you like to hear the particulars now?’

She bit her lip. ‘You think I’ll change my mind simply because of money? That’s insulting.’

‘Financial stability,’ he reminded her. ‘It’s a powerful incentive.’

‘I’m not some gold-digger.’ The words burst out of her, like an old wound breaking open. Alex wondered at it.

‘I know you’re not.’

‘I won’t sell myself.’

‘So you keep saying, but to think of it that way is distasteful. We are talking marriage, remember. Not being a mistress.’

‘Yet it’s true nevertheless.’

‘Not necessarily. It’s a deal, Miss James. We both get something out of it.’

She shook her head slowly, her eyes still wide. ‘Considering the nature of our conversation, perhaps you should call me Milly.’

Victory loomed closer, elusive but possible. Probable, even. She hadn’t stormed out of the room. She hadn’t slapped his face. She hadn’t seen it, either. They would get to that all in good time. ‘Very well, Milly. Why don’t you take a seat?’

‘All right.’ Milly walked with careful, deliberate steps to one of the leather club chairs in front of his desk and sank into it, ankles neatly crossed, hands linked at her waist like a respectable matron. ‘Can we turn the light on?’ she asked. ‘I can barely make you out, and I’ve never actually seen you in person, which seems ridiculous considering the nature of our discussion.’

He tensed, and then made himself relax. ‘I’m averse to light.’

‘You’re not a vampire, are you?’ It was obviously a joke, but she still sounded uncertain.

‘No, most certainly not.’ He turned to face her, angling his head in a way he knew would hide the worst. ‘I’ll turn it on in a moment, perhaps, after we’ve discussed some of the details.’

‘Why me?’ Milly asked bluntly. ‘Why not someone far more suitable?’

‘Because you’re here,’ Alex answered just as bluntly. ‘And you’re happy to remain on this island. And in the six months you’ve been in my employ, you’ve seemed trustworthy and hardworking, or so my man here, Yiannis, tells me.’

‘Yiannis has been reporting on me?’

‘Merely relaying his approval of you.’

‘Oh.’ She sounded surprised. ‘He and his wife are very kind. They’ve been welcoming to me.’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ he returned smoothly. It was all seeming very promising. She clearly liked living here, and she wanted the money. All that remained was whether she could stomach looking at him—and sharing his bed.

‘And those are your only qualifications for a wife?’ Milly asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Really?’ She sounded cynical again. ‘You don’t care about your wife’s likes or dislikes? Her sense of humour, or her sense of honour? What about what kind of mother she’ll be?’

Alex’s mouth compressed. ‘I don’t have the luxury to care about those things.’ Ezio’s latest escapade had provoked a knee-jerk reaction in him to sort this, and quickly.

Milly was silent, and Alex watched her, noticing the emotions that crossed her face like ripples in water. Indecision, fear, but something else, as well. Something darker...guilt, perhaps, or grief. His proposition had struck a painful chord inside her. He was almost certain of it. ‘And why an heir?’ she asked at last. ‘Isn’t that rather an outdated concept?’

‘It’s a biological one.’

‘Still.’

‘I want to pass my business on to my child.’

‘A son?’

‘Or a daughter. It doesn’t matter.’

She cocked her head, her eyes narrowing as she tried to make him out. ‘Why?’

‘Because if I don’t,’ Alex answered tersely, ‘it passes to my stepbrother, who is likely to run it into the ground in a matter of months.’

‘It’s not like an aristocratic title, is it? Why should it pass to him?’

He drew a quick breath, forcing himself to relax as the memories bombarded him. Christos, looking so pale and weak, one claw-like hand extended towards him. Begging him. And Ezio, drunk in some nightclub, not even bothering to show up, to say goodbye to his flesh-and-blood father. ‘Because my stepfather stipulated it in his will. The business was originally his, and he bequeathed it to me when he died. But he made a provision that if I should die without issue, it passes to my stepbrother.’

‘That all sounds rather archaic.’

Alex inclined his head. ‘Family ties are strong in this country.’

‘Yet it’s your stepfather,’ Milly pointed out. ‘This isn’t about flesh and blood.’

‘He was a father to me more than any other man was,’ Alex answered gruffly. Emotion clutched at his throat, made it hard to speak. ‘And the will is watertight. This is my only option.’

‘What about adoption? Surrogacy?’

‘As I said, time is of the essence. I’m thirty-six, and I want my child to be an adult when I pass the business on. Also, I believe a child should have a mother as well as a father. Family is important to me.’ The words ignited a blaze of pain inside him, and he snuffed it out quickly. Coldly. The only way he knew how, to keep on living.

‘What if I can’t get pregnant?’ Milly asked baldly. ‘There are no guarantees.’

‘You’d need to have a full medical check before we wed.’ He shrugged one shoulder. ‘The rest is up to God.’

‘Would you want other children?’

He almost laughed at that. He knew she certainly wouldn’t, not once she saw him. ‘No, one will suffice. After that I will leave you alone.’

‘Would I have to live on this island for the rest of my life?’

‘You wouldn’t be a prisoner, if that’s what you are implying.’

‘Would we have any kind of...relationship?’ She spoke the word hesitantly, as if probing a sore tooth.

‘We would treat each other with courteous respect, I should hope.’

‘But beyond that?’

He couldn’t keep from recoiling just a little, just as he knew she would once she saw him. ‘Is that something you want?’

‘I... I don’t know.’ She shook her head, her teeth worrying away at her lower lip. ‘This is all so unexpected. I can’t even think straight.’

‘Yet you are considering it?’

‘I shouldn’t.’ She shook her head, expelling her breath in a gusty sigh. ‘I don’t even know why I am, if just a little. The tiniest bit.’ It came out like a warning.

‘The five million, perhaps.’ He kept his voice light, inviting her to see the humour. To share it with him.

She shot him a look of wry amusement, and something small and warm bloomed inside him, something unexpected. When had he last shared a look with another person, even in the dark? ‘Yes, that might have something to do with it.’

‘I don’t hold it against you.’

‘And so you shouldn’t, since you’re the one who offered it. But perhaps I hold it against myself.’ Her words came out sharply; the moment was broken, that small bit of warmth snuffed out.

Alex watched as Milly rose from the chair, pacing the room, rubbing her hands together as if she were cold. ‘No, this can’t work,’ she muttered, mostly to herself. ‘I can’t let myself, not like—’ She broke off, shaking her head. ‘No, I’m sorry. I can’t. I won’t.’ She turned to him resolutely, her look one of both apology and determination. ‘The answer is no, Kyrie Santos,’ she said firmly. ‘I’m sorry. I hope this won’t affect our working relationship.’

Alex stared at her, refusing to betray his irritation and, yes, his disappointment, with so much as a flicker. And he did feel disappointed—more even than he’d expected. He could find someone else. He knew that. Yet her rejection stung, because that was what it was. It felt personal, even though he knew it shouldn’t. And the laughable part was, he hadn’t even turned the light on.

CHAPTER TWO

MILLY COULDN’T SLEEP. She lay tangled in her sheets, staring at the ceiling as moonlight slanted through the shutters of her window and silvered the tile floor of her bedroom. Since the abrupt ending of her conversation with Alexandro Santos this afternoon, when he’d more or less dismissed her from his study after she’d turned down his proposal, her mind had been reeling as she went over every surreal second of the bizarre interview.

I want you to marry me.

How could he have suggested such a thing? And how could she have been so treacherously tempted, even for a moment?

Milly turned over, thumping her pillow in a futile effort to find peace, or at least comfort. Her mind had not stopped zooming off in a dozen different directions since she’d left Alex; she’d kept herself busy, finishing the moussaka she’d been prepping for supper, sweeping the pool area, and paying a few bills, all the while wondering why he’d asked, what would happen now.

Would everything be awkward? Would he find a reason to fire her? She didn’t want to lose this job. She was making three times as much money as she had been translating business documents back in Paris, and she liked the spacious villa with its beautiful flower-filled garden, the infinity pool, Yiannis and his wife, Marina, stopping by on occasion, the friendly village of Halki a short distance away.

She liked shopping among the quaint market stalls, a wicker basket looped over her arm as she examined lumps of feta cheese floating in brine, plump, red tomatoes, juicy olives.

She liked the little café with its rickety tables overlooking a dusty square where she sometimes sat and had a coffee after doing her shopping. She liked the quiet, starry evenings, the only sound the distant lapping of the waves. She liked the solitude, and feeling safe. She didn’t want to leave here.

So why had she said no to Alex Santos’ marriage proposal?

With a groan of frustration Milly rose from her bed. She wouldn’t sleep now. She slipped on her thin dressing gown and padded softly downstairs to the living area, opening the French windows as quietly as she could. Alex’s bedroom was in the other wing of the house, one she only visited to clean, but she definitely did not want to disturb him now.

Outside the air was pleasantly cool, scented with bougainvillea and orange blossom. Moonlight glinted off the placid surface of the pool, giving it a ghostly feel. Milly wandered over to a wooden chaise and curled up on it, drawing her knees to her chest as she gazed out at the moonlit gardens. She let out a gusty sigh, tension that had been knotting her shoulders since Alex had said stay easing just a little.

She loved the peaceful solitude of this place—after a lifetime of the party or boarding-school scene, the quiet of her own company was a soothing balm, and the villa felt like a home, the first real one she’d ever had.

Five million euros. She couldn’t stop thinking about it, about what she could do with that money. Pay for Anna’s school fees. Pay for her university, buy her a house, keep her safe for ever. Money might not buy happiness, but it certainly helped...and the thought of finally having financial security, for her and for the one person she loved...well, after a lifetime of chaotic uncertainty, it was tempting indeed.

And so what if she married a man she barely knew? In her life, romantic love had been at best a joke, at worst a lie. She’d seen both her parents fall in and out of it with devastating ease, and her own brush with it had left her feeling more jaded than ever, still cringing in shame.

She didn’t want that kind of relationship. She wouldn’t take that kind of risk. At least Alex was honest about his feelings. That was more than she could say for Philippe.

So why not marry someone for the practical reasons? Alex’s mention of an heir had sent a surprising ache of longing through her. A child of her own...someone to love, who couldn’t be taken away from her. Family. She hadn’t realised she was maternal in that way until Alex had spoken of it, but now, her knees tucked to her chest, she could almost imagine a baby nestled in her arms, the kiss she’d drop on its soft forehead. She’d be such a better mother than her own.

A sound from the house had Milly stilling, and then pressing against the back of the chaise, trying to make herself invisible. From the corner of her eye she saw Alex Santos make his way to the pool; he was wearing nothing but a pair of loose pyjama bottoms and moonlight bathed the sculpted muscles of his chest in lambent silver, making her realise just how impressive they were.

Milly’s gaze rose from his chest to his face and as if he could sense, not just her presence, but her stare, he angled his head away from her, his body going still.

‘Couldn’t sleep?’ His voice was husky, somehow sensual, winding around her in the sultry darkness. Milly’s arms clenched around her knees.

‘How did you know I was here?’

‘You left the doors open, and I have good eyesight.’ He moved closer to her chaise, the fabric of his pyjama bottoms whispering together as he moved, the muscles of his chest rippling as the moonlight caught them. When he was only a few feet away, his body still swathed in darkness and his face angled away, he spoke again. ‘So why can’t you sleep, Milly?’ He lingered on her name. ‘Were you thinking about my offer?’

‘Yes,’ she admitted, because it seemed obvious. ‘How could I not be thinking about it? It’s the only marriage proposal I’ve ever received.’

‘I’m sorry it wasn’t more romantic,’ he returned dryly. ‘But I’m sure there will be others...that is, if you don’t reconsider...?’ He trailed off deliberately, and Milly swallowed hard.

‘I shouldn’t reconsider...’

‘But you are.’

He sounded so certain, and why wouldn’t he be? A handsome, powerful, wealthy man. And she was a plain little nobody. He’d probably expected her to jump at the chance. ‘It’s a lot of money,’ Milly said on a shuddery sigh. ‘And it would make a difference to me...and to someone I love.’

‘Ah. Perhaps the most powerful reason of all.’ Alex settled on the chaise opposite her, his face turned away, his gaze on the pool. ‘And who is this person you love?’

‘My sister. Well, stepsister, but she’s as good as a sister to me. Better. The most important person in the world, the only person...’ Milly’s throat closed up at the thought of Anna and she blinked hard. ‘I’d do anything for her.’

‘Except marry me?’

‘That’s why I’m thinking about it.’

‘It wouldn’t have to be such torture, you know,’ Alex said after a moment. ‘I wouldn’t bother you any more than I had to.’

Bother her? Was that really how he saw their potential relationship? And yet Milly felt reassured that her life wouldn’t have to change too much.

‘Most people want more from their marriage than that,’ she said after a moment, and Alex arched an eyebrow.

‘Most people,’ he acknowledged, ‘but not you, I think.’ He turned so he could look her in the eye, although the darkness still hid much of his face. ‘Am I wrong?’

Milly swallowed again, her throat dry as she struggled for words. ‘I haven’t thought about it all that much,’ she hedged. ‘I haven’t...’ She trailed off, her gaze on the silvery surface of the pool. ‘I haven’t had much experience,’ she stated at last, determined to be frank. ‘Of romance or romantic love. That kind of thing. And the experience I’ve had has put me off.’

‘So here is the ideal solution.’

‘Why don’t you want romance or love in a marriage?’ she asked hesitantly. ‘I assume that’s the reason for your business proposal?’

Alex shrugged. ‘I don’t see the point of it.’

‘Of romance?’

‘Or of love.’ He paused. ‘That kind of love. And neither, I think, do you.’

It was unsettling, how he seemed to reach right into her mind and pluck out her thoughts. What could he see in her face, even out here in the dark? What was she revealing without realising?

‘I’ve seen it abused,’ she answered at last, her tone careful. ‘And I suppose I don’t trust it very much. I’m not willing to take that kind of risk.’

‘Good. Then I think we’d be an excellent match.’

She shook her head, an instinctive movement. ‘It’s not that simple...’

‘Of course not. We can iron out the details as soon as you’ve agreed. I’m a reasonable man, Milly.’

The way he said her name made her shiver, although perhaps it was simply the cooling night air. ‘None of this seems particularly reasonable, you know. We’re talking about marriage. Having a child together...’

‘It’s eminently reasonable. Love is the outrageous thing, the ridiculous emotion that’s meant to drive all our reason and ambition when it’s so flimsy and ephemeral. The whole concept is absurd, insanity. Why would you trust your life to a fleeting feeling?’

‘Yet people do.’

‘But you’re smarter than that, aren’t you? As am I.’

She almost laughed at his arrogance, except she knew he was right. She was smarter than that. She’d wised up. ‘See?’ He smiled at her, the corner of his mouth curving upwards, his eyes—at least the one she could see—gleaming. ‘We’re a perfect match.’

‘I haven’t even seen your face,’ Milly blurted, and although he didn’t move, it felt as if he had. As if he’d gone even more still than he already was, every muscle taut and waiting, put on alert. ‘Properly, I mean,’ Milly clarified. ‘We’ve only spoken in the dark. It’s a bit...odd, you know. Clearly you’re a private man, but...’ Shouldn’t she at least see the man she might marry?

‘Yes, I am.’ Alex was silent for a few seconds, seeming to draw into himself. ‘Well, there is a reason for the dark.’

Milly gazed at him in confusion, squinting to make out his expression but it remained shadowed, unfathomable. ‘Is there?’

‘Yes, there is, but you might as well know it now. See what you might be agreeing to.’ He walked quickly back to the French windows and in one quick movement he flicked on the outdoor lights. The terrace was bathed in a bright electric glow, and Milly blinked in the brilliance. Then Alex turned to face her, and a gasp rushed from her throat.

His face...

One side of his mouth quirked upwards. ‘Perhaps now you understand a bit more of my reasoning for a convenient marriage?’

Milly sat transfixed, unsure whether to look away or keep staring. Would that be insulting? Unkind? In any case, she found she couldn’t move her gaze. What had happened to him, since the photos she’d seen on the Internet had been taken?

‘It’s a shock, I know.’ Alex spoke dispassionately, as if he didn’t much care that half his face was ravaged in pink and white scar tissue, while the other half was entirely perfect, the coldly handsome man she recognised from his photos, made even more so by the damage on the other side. It was like looking in a cracked mirror, half crystal clear, half warped and broken.

‘How...?’

‘Fire.’ The single word was clipped, dismissive. Milly knew instinctively he wouldn’t say more, and she wouldn’t ask. ‘It puts off many a prospective bride, or so I imagine. I haven’t deigned to find out. Perhaps it puts you off.’

‘Your scars would have nothing to do with whether I agreed or not,’ Milly said when she’d found her voice, but she feared she didn’t sound convincing. It was just she was so shocked. Even with his insistence on privacy, the rooms shrouded in darkness, she hadn’t suspected. Never guessed.

There hadn’t been a whisper about it online, or even in the village, where most people knew him, or at least of him. Yiannis and Marina hadn’t said a word.

‘Very well, then.’ Alex straightened where he stood, levelling her with a look. ‘Will you marry me?’

* * *

Alex knew he should have given her time to adjust to the reality of his scars, but he felt too raw. He hated being looked at, despised the flicker of pity that inevitably crossed every person’s face when they saw him in the light. So he made sure very few people did.

In the nearly two years since the fire, only a few trusted business advisors and staff had been able to look him in the eye. He didn’t give anyone else the chance, not if he could help it. He entered his office from a private entrance, and, while there, he rarely left. Everything he could do from his office by phone or email, he did, and when he wasn’t doing business he was keeping to himself, either in Athens or here, travelling by private jet or yacht to avoid the inevitable whispers and stares.

He had a few trusted staff who had seen his face and wouldn’t talk, but he’d never had many friends and so he had even fewer now. As for lovers? What a joke. All in all, it was a lonely life, but it was the only one he could bear to live.

And yet he’d known this moment would come, when the woman who would be his wife would look on his face and shudder. He hated it with an intensity that made his fists clench before he made the choice, very deliberately, to flatten them out. He would not be that kind of man. Not like his father. It was a choice he made every day, deliberately, calmly, because he had to.

‘I... I have to think,’ Milly stammered, her gaze still tellingly transfixed by the scars that crisscrossed his entire right cheek, starting in his hairline and coming down to the corner of his mouth and quirking his lip upwards in a horrible half-smile he couldn’t ever change. There were other scars too, ones she might not have noticed yet, cording the side of his neck and making a patchwork of white lines across his shoulder. ‘It’s such a big step...’

‘Well, don’t think too long,’ Alex returned in a deliberate drawl, making sure to keep her gaze even though everything in him demanded he turn away. Hide. ‘Because if you refuse, I’ll have to ask someone else, and as quickly as possible.’

‘Do you have an alternative?’ She sounded more curious than offended—or relieved.

He didn’t, not yet, but he just shrugged. ‘I have some possibilities.’ None of the women of his acquaintance would agree to marry him looking like this, and he wouldn’t want them anyway. Shallow, vapid creatures, caring only for appearances and wealth, and he had only one of those attributes.

No, he realised he wanted her, because she seemed sensible and trustworthy, and he had a feeling they could get along tolerably well, which was all he could ask for. All he would ever let himself want.

‘Why me, though?’ Milly pressed.

Looking at her, Alex knew he was fooling himself if he thought he wanted her just for those modest qualities. No, there was more to it than that. He wanted her, wanted her in the way a man wanted a woman. Desire was dangerous and foolish, and it made him feel exposed in a way he hated.

‘You’re here. You’re suitable. You need the money.’ He bit each word off and spat it out. She flinched a little, but then she nodded.

‘At least you’re honest. I...appreciate that.’ She sighed, turning away from him to stare out at the water. ‘I love it here,’ she said softly, and he tensed.

‘That’s a good beginning.’

‘Is it? It doesn’t seem nearly enough.’

‘But if you don’t want love in your marriage, why not this?’

‘I feel as if I’m signing my life away.’