Greek's Baby 0f Redemption (One Night With Consequences)

by Kate Hewitt

  Alex grimaced. ‘And that’s just what I did, because I thought it was for the best...except I didn’t, really. I didn’t at all. The last three weeks have been hell for me, Milly. I’ve picked up the phone a dozen times a day to ring you, but I never did, because I was too proud. Too afraid.’ He shook his head. ‘And I left you alone while you were pregnant...if something had happened to our child...’

  She reached over to take his hand between both of her own. ‘Alex, you have carried the weight of the world on your shoulders for too long. You can’t blame yourself for everything.’

  ‘But if I’d been there—’

  ‘I still would have walked into Halki on my own. Do you really think you could have stopped me? And if it hadn’t been a walk into the village, it might have been on the stairs, or going down to the beach... You’re not God, Alex. You can’t control everything, and you can’t blame yourself every time something goes wrong.’

  He was silent for a long moment, staring down at their clasped hands. ‘But it was my anger, my pride and my shame that kept us apart, just as before. I was too proud to admit I was wrong, and too ashamed to risk telling you how I felt.’

  ‘But you are now,’ Milly said softly. Her heart was filling up to overflowing with hope and happiness. ‘And that’s what matters. What we say now. The past is in the past, Alex...all the pain and hurt and regret. It’s shaped who we are, but it doesn’t have to shape our future. It can’t be changed, but it can be redeemed.’

  ‘Do you really believe that?’ he asked hoarsely.

  ‘Yes, with all my heart.’

  Alex looked at her, his hand still clasped between hers, his expression utterly serious. ‘Did you mean what you said, Milly? About having fallen in love with me?’

  Her mouth was dry, tears brimming in her eyes, as she answered. ‘With all my heart.’

  ‘Why?’

  He sounded so incredulous, she couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Because you’re wonderful, Alexandro Santos. You’re kind and thoughtful and courageous and honest. And you’re quite handsome, as well.’

  ‘Handsome—’ he scoffed, but she shook her head, pressing her palm against his scarred cheek.

  ‘Devastatingly handsome and sexy to boot. I love you, Alex. I’ve fallen in love with you over the last few months, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you, if you’ll let me.’ It felt so good to say the words, so freeing and wonderful. Not scary after all, in the end, and definitely worth the risk.

  ‘If I’ll let you? I’ll count myself blessed to do so. All I want to do is make up for lost time, Milly, and love you for the rest of my days.’

  ‘Starting now?’ Milly said softly.

  Alex placed his hand on her slight bump, a look of wonder on his face. ‘And lasting for ever.’

  EPILOGUE

  Six months later

  ‘IT’S A GIRL!’

  Alex let out an incredulous laugh as the doctor lifted the squalling, red-faced baby onto Milly’s chest. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she touched the damp, dark ringlets of their infant daughter. ‘She’s perfect.’

  ‘She looks like you,’ Alex said as he dropped a kiss onto her forehead. It had been an intense twenty hours of labour, and Milly had been amazing throughout, as brave as he’d ever seen her be.

  ‘Like me?’ Milly scoffed as the nurse placed her daughter in her arms. ‘She looks like you. Dark hair and blue eyes. Beautiful.’

  ‘Her eye colour might change,’ the nurse said with a smile.

  ‘Either way, she’s perfect,’ Alex stated definitively. ‘Because she’s ours.’

  ‘Yes.’ Milly cooed down at her daughter. They hadn’t talked too much about names, not daring to hope so much. It had been a difficult pregnancy, and Milly had gone into preterm labour several times before the doctors had been able to stop it. She’d been on bed-rest for four months, and their daughter had finally been born at a healthy thirty-eight weeks, to both of their relief. They’d both been afraid they might never reach this moment, but they had. And while the last six months had been scary, they’d also been wonderful, for the uncertainty of their situation had brought them together, stronger and more in love than ever.

  They’d learned to turn towards each other when they were frightened or worried, rather than away. They’d come to depend on each other utterly, and for that they were both thankful, as well as for the miracle lying in Milly’s arms.

  ‘Have you thought of a name?’ Alex asked softly as he gazed down at the Madonna-like picture of his wife holding their child.

  ‘I have,’ Milly admitted, her gaze on their daughter. ‘If it was all right with you, I was thinking of Daphne.’

  Alex blinked rapidly, moved by her suggestion. ‘If you really mean it...’

  ‘Of course I do.’ Milly looked up at him, her beautiful face suffused with love and tenderness. ‘Would you like to hold her, Alex? Would you like to hold your daughter?’

  Wordlessly, unable to frame the words, he nodded. Gently Milly transferred their daughter to him and Alex cradled her tiny form, amazed and humbled by the slight and yet overwhelming weight of her. His daughter. Daphne.

  As Milly had told him all those months ago, the past could not be changed, but it could be redeemed. He could be redeemed, and the proof of it was here in his arms, by his side. His daughter. His wife. His family. For ever.

  Turning back to Milly, Alex reached for her hand. In that moment, they needed no words, nothing but the joining of their fingers, their hearts. Together. Always. Her eyes full of love, Milly smiled at him, and with his heart overflowing, everything in him singing with joy, Alex smiled back.

  * * *

  If you enjoyed Greek’s Baby of Redemption by Kate Hewitt you’re sure to enjoy these other One Night With Consequences stories!

  The Venetian One-Night Baby

  by Melanie Milburne

  Heiress’s Pregnancy Scandal

  by Julia James

  Innocent’s Nine-Month Scandal

  by Dani Collins

  The Italian’s Twin Consequences

  by Caitlin Crews

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  Keep reading for an excerpt from Untouched Until Her Ultra-Rich Husband by Dani Collins.

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  Untouched Until Her Ultra-Rich Husband

  by Dani Collins

  CHAPTER ONE

  BORN IN THE Year of the Dragon, Gabriel Dean was dominant, ambitious, passion
ate and willing to take risks. He jumped for no one.

  His signature detachment, however, was not impervious to his grandmother’s ringtone.

  The distinctive tinkle of a brass tea bell might have struck some as a sign of affection. And yes, he had seen her shake such a bell on two of the three occasions he had spoken to her in person, but sentiment was not a gene either of them possessed.

  No, the bell was a practical choice, being odd enough to draw his attention no matter what was going on around him. Mae Chen’s missives were financial in nature, time sensitive and always lucrative. He didn’t need more money, but he hadn’t joined the eleven zeroes club at thirty by ignoring opportunities to make more.

  Therefore, at the first peal, he held up a finger to pause the roundtable discussion of an energy takeover that would make him the de facto owner of a small country. He turned his titanium smartphone onto its custom-made back and touched the sapphire crystal screen.

  Transmitted from Luli: Your grandmother has experienced a medical event. Her instructions in such case are to promptly advise you that you are her designated heir. Contact details for her physician are below.

  That was new information.

  In one fluid move, he tagged the doctor’s number, picked up the phone and rose to leave without explanation. He moved with purpose from the room, more disturbed by the label heir than by his grandmother’s condition.

  For one thing, Mae was far too bellicose to suffer anything for long, particularly ill health. She would be on her feet before this call was picked up.

  As for Gabriel being her heir, she wouldn’t stipulate such a thing without attaching a symphony’s worth of strings. She had been trying to maneuver him into a beholden state for two decades. It was the reason he had kept his interest in her fortune objective and made no assumptions about his entitlement to it. He religiously returned her invitations to invest with equally advantageous opportunities of his own. Tit for tat, scoop for scoop. No obligations incurred on either side beyond reciprocal courtesy.

  “A stroke,” the doctor advised him seconds later. “It’s unlikely she will survive.”

  Her transfer to the private clinic had been swift and discreet, the doctor continued.

  “I expect this will cause ripples through the financial districts when it’s announced? I didn’t know you were her grandson.”

  While Gabriel’s agile brain sifted through the implications of his grandmother being incapacitated, possibly disappearing from his life altogether, the inquisitiveness of the physician’s tone penetrated. He could hear the man’s thoughts buzzing like an annoying mosquito. Buy? Sell? Were there properties that could be snatched up before they were officially on the market? How could the fine doctor take advantage of this news before anyone else?

  Thanks to their mutual exchange of information over the years, Mae had expanded from relatively stable investments in real estate to tech and renewable energy, precious metals and that fickle mistress—oil. None of that could be left without a sitter.

  Gabriel assured the doctor he would be there as soon as possible. He messaged his executive assistant to reschedule the meeting he’d abandoned. He also told her to clear his calendar and notify his pilot to ready the jet. As he headed to the elevator, he glanced at the nearest face at a desk and said, “My car, please.”

  The woman quickly put her call on hold and his chauffeured Rolls-Royce Phantom arrived at the curb as he pushed through the revolving door at the bottom of his building.

  The humidity of a New York summer hit him in the face, but it would be monsoon rains in Singapore. His butler kept his jet packed for all climes and occasions, though. His grandmother kept a room at her house for him, not that he had ever used it. Invitations had come periodically, maybe to discuss the fact she was designating him her heir. He also owned a building of flats in that city. The top one was designated for his use, so he never took his grandmother up on—

  “Gabriel!” A woman moved into his path and dipped her sunglasses to reveal her fake lashes and waxed brows. “I thought you might like to take me to lunch. It’s Tina,” she reminded after a beat where he only stared, trying to place her. She splayed her hand on the upper swells of her breasts where they were revealed by her wide-necked blouse. “We met at my father’s retirement party last weekend. You said you liked my song.”

  He must have been speaking out of politeness because he had no recollection of her voice, her father or the party.

  “I’m traveling,” he dismissed, and stepped around her.

  If there was one thing he needed less than more money, it was another social climber throwing herself at him.

  He slid onto a cool leather seat and his driver closed him into the air-conditioned interior.

  Gabriel glanced at the square face of his gold Girard-Perregaux and calculated the approximate time until he would land.

  Such affectations as vintage watches and Valentino briefcases meant nothing to him, but appearances mattered to everyone else. He always played to win, even at “who wears it best?” so he ordered hand-sewn suits in rare wools like vicuña and qiviut. He had his leather shoes lined with the softest materials when they were custom cobbled in Italy. He hung all of it off a body that he ruthlessly kept in peak athletic condition.

  He wore sunscreen and moisturized.

  And he genuinely didn’t care that folding his grandmother’s net worth into his own would tip him into the exalted echelon of world’s first trillionaire. All it meant, quite inconveniently, was more work—yet another thing he didn’t need.

  His grandmother was his only relative of note, however, despite being both strange and estranged. He might lack strong feelings toward her or her money, but he did feel a responsibility to preserve her empire. He respected what she had built in her seventy years. He might be progressive by nature, but he didn’t tear down institutions for the sake of it.

  He flicked back to the original message and brought the phone to his chin as he dictated a text.

  Who is Mae’s business manager?

  Transmitted from Luli: I assist Mrs. Chen in managing her transactions. May I help with a specific inquiry or instruction?

  Artificial intelligence was so delightfully passive-aggressive, always deferential when it was being obstructive.

  Send me the contact details of the man or woman who carries out Mae’s personal banking transactions.

  Transmitted from Luli: I perform those tasks. How may I help?

  Gabriel bit back a curse. Once this news was released and his connection to Mae Chen made public, a global circus would erupt around her financial holdings. The clock was already ticking, given her doctor had learned of their connection.

  He switched gears and began sending instructions to his own team of advisors and brokers to reach out to hers. Once he was on the ground, he would learn exactly who ran things for Mae Chen and firmly take the reins from him.

  * * *

  “Luli.” The butler introduced her last, since she had deliberately positioned herself at the end of the line of staff, after the housemaids and cook. She was practically standing around the corner of the house where vines grew against the wall that ensured the privacy of Mae Chen’s colonial-era mansion.

  His mansion now.

  “You’re human.”

  If she was, Gabriel Dean was the first to notice in her twenty-two years of existence.

  Of course, Luli experienced very human reactions as she shook hands with Mae’s grandson, bowing slightly and murmuring, “Sir,” as she did. Her heart was pounding, her skin coated in cold perspiration, her stomach churning like a pit of snakes.

  Aside from the married butler and the gardeners, she rarely saw men. Not this sort of man, especially. His black, glossy hair was precision-trimmed and disheveled with equal precision. He was clean-shaven, his cheekbones a masterpiece, his mouth—she didn’t know what to compa
re it to, having never studied a man’s lips before. They weren’t the feminine peaks and sensual fullness with corner curls like hers. They were thinner, straighter and as much a statement of unspoken authority as the rest of him.

  “Is that your full name? Luli?”

  “Lucrecia,” she provided, tacking on the other half of a name she had nearly forgotten. “Cruz.”

  His gaze flickered down her pleated-neck dress. Its straight cut was belted with the same pale yellow cotton and the hem ended just above her ankles, revealing her bare feet in sandals. The maids wore an apron over theirs and looked efficient and smart. Luli wished she had that extra layer of protection, but even a plate of armor wouldn’t hide the fact she was significantly more endowed in the chest than the delicately built Malaysian women beside her. On her, the fabric pulled across her hips and required a higher slit to accommodate her longer stride.

  Gabriel was taller than she had expected. No wonder Mae was always telling her to sit. It was intimidating to have someone look down on you.

  Gabriel’s gaze came back to her face, taking in features she knew to be striking. It wasn’t just that her skin was paler than the rest of the staff’s, or her eyes distinctly Caucasian. Her light brown hair was naturally streaked with ash blond and her nose slender and elegant.

  Gabriel’s eyelids were distinctly Asian, his irises an unexpected gray-green.

  She had seen enough photos to expect him to be beautiful, but she had not expected this radiation of power. She should have. His grandmother possessed a version of it, but this man’s force of will nearly knocked her off her feet and all he had done was step out of his car.

  Now he relaxed his grip so she wasn’t sure if the handshake was over. She took too long to draw her hand from his. It made her feel ignorant and foolish. The maids would be laughing at her later, but she couldn’t help this weakness of fascination that overcame her.