Demanding His Secret Son

by Louise Fuller

  Aristo stared at her coldly. ‘You work with Elliot?’

  For some reason her defiant nod made a primitive jealousy rip through him like a box-cutter. In his head—if he’d allowed himself to picture her at all—she had been alone, suffering as he was. Only, now it appeared that not only had she survived, she was prospering with Elliot.

  ‘We set up a business together. He does the admin, front of house and accountancy. I do the magic.’

  He felt another spasm of irritation—pain, almost. He knew Teddie had never been romantically or sexually involved with Elliot, but he had supported her, and once that had been his job. It was bad enough that his half-brother, Oliver, had displaced him in his mother’s affections—now it appeared that Elliot had usurped him in Teddie’s.

  ‘From memory, he wasn’t much of a businessman,’ he said coolly.

  For the first time since she’d sat down Teddie smiled and, watching her eyes soften, he had to fight an overwhelming urge to reach out and stroke her cheek, for once her eyes had used to soften for him in that way.

  ‘He’s not, but he’s my best friend and I trust him,’ she said simply. ‘And that’s what matters.’

  It was tempting to lie, to tell him that she’d found love and unimaginable passion in Elliot’s arms, but it would only end up making her look sad and desperate.

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘Surely what matters is profit?’

  She’d always known he felt like that, but somehow his remark hurt more than it should, for it was the reason her son would grow up without a father.

  Her fingers curled. ‘Some things are more important than money, Aristo.’

  ‘Not in business,’ he said dismissively.

  She glared at him, hating him and his stupid, blinkered view of life, but hating herself more for still caring what he thought.

  ‘But there’s more to life than business. There’s feelings and people—friends, family—’

  She broke off, the emotion in her voice echoing inside her head. Glancing up, she found him watching her, his gaze darkly impassive, and it was hard not to turn away, for the heartbreakingly familiar masculine beauty of his face seemed so at odds with the distance in his eyes.

  ‘You don’t have a family,’ he said.

  It was one of the few facts she’d shared with him about her life—that she was an orphan. Dazed, Teddie blinked. She was about to retort that she was a mother to his son, when abruptly her brain came back online and she bit back her words. Given how he’d behaved, and was still behaving, she certainly didn’t owe him the truth.

  But George was his child. Didn’t he deserve to know that?

  Her heartbeat stalled, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. Her stomach seemed to be turning in on itself. Wishing that she could make herself disappear as effortlessly as she could make watches and wallets vanish, she forced herself to meet his gaze.

  ‘No, I don’t,’ she lied.

  And suddenly she knew that she had to leave right there and then, for to stay would mean more lies, and she couldn’t do it—she didn’t want to lie about her son.

  Neither could she carry on lying to herself.

  Up until today she had wanted to believe that she was over Aristo. But as she stared into his dark, distant eyes, the pain of pretending erupted inside of her, and suddenly she needed to make certain this never happened again.

  She’d made the mistake of letting him back into her life before—made the mistake of following her heart, not her head. And although she didn’t regret it—for that would mean regretting having her son—after that one-night stand she’d accepted not only that their marriage was over, but that it was the best possible outcome.

  Only by staying out of his orbit would she be safe—not just from him, but from herself.

  She lifted her chin. This meeting would be their last.

  Ignoring the intensity of his dark gaze, and the full, sensuous mouth that had so often kissed her into a state of helpless bliss, she cleared her throat. ‘Fascinating though this is, Aristo, I don’t really think there’s any point in us carrying on with this conversation,’ she said. ‘Small talk—any kind of talk, really—wasn’t ever your strong point, and we got divorced for a reason—several, actually.’

  He held her gaze. ‘Are you refusing to talk to me?’

  ‘Yes, I am.’

  But she didn’t want to explain why. Didn’t want to explain the complex and conflicting emotions swirling inside her.

  Her heart was banging against her ribs and, breathing in deeply, she steadied herself. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a pen and a notebook and scrawled something on a page inside it. Tearing the page free, she folded it in half and slid it onto the table.

  ‘I don’t expect to hear from you again, but if you have to get in touch this is my lawyer’s number. Goodbye, Aristotle.’

  And then, before he’d even had a chance to react, let alone respond, she turned and almost ran out of the hotel lounge.

  Left alone, Aristo stared at the empty seat, a mass of emotions churning inside him. His heart was beating out of time. Teddie’s words had shocked him. But, although she had no doubt intended her curt goodbye to be a slap in the face, to him it felt as though she’d thrown down a gauntlet at his feet.

  And in doing so she’d sealed her fate. Four years ago she had waltzed out of their marriage and his life and he’d spent the intervening years suppressing hurt and disappointment. Now, though, he was ready to confront his past—and his ex-wife.

  But he would do so on his terms, he thought coldly. And, reaching into his jacket, he pulled out his phone.

  * * *

  Three hours later, having fed and bathed George and tidied away his toys, Teddie leaned back against the faded cushions of her sofa and let out a long, slow breath. She felt exhausted. Her apartment—her wonderful apartment—with its bright walls and wooden floors, which was usually a place of sanctuary, looked shabby after the high gloss of the Kildare Hotel. And, although her son was usually a sweet-tempered and easy-going toddler, he must have picked up on her tension. Tonight he’d had a huge tantrum when she’d stopped him playing with his toy speed boat in the bath.

  He was sleeping now, and as she’d gazed down at her beautiful son she had felt both pride and panic, for he so resembled his father. A father he would never know.

  She felt a rush of guilt and self-pity. This wasn’t what she’d wanted for herself or for her son. In her dreams she’d wanted to give him everything she’d never had—two loving parents, financial security—but she’d tried marriage and it had been a disaster.

  Even before Aristo’s obsession with work had blotted out the rest of his life she had felt like a gatecrasher in her own marriage. But then what had they really known about one another? How could you really know someone after just seven weeks?

  Maybe if their marriage had had stronger foundations it might have been possible for them to face their problems together. But they’d had no common ground aside from a raging sexual attraction which had been enough to blind both of them to their fundamental incompatibility. He had been born into wealth. She, on the other hand, had grown up in a children’s home with a mother dosed up on prescription drugs and a father in prison.

  And sex wasn’t enough to sustain a relationship—not without trust and openness and tenderness.

  Divorce had been the only option, and, although she might be able to face that fact she still wasn’t up to facing Aristo. Thankfully, though, she would never have to see him again.

  Her pulse twitched as she remembered telling him to talk to her through her lawyer. She could hardly believe that she’d spoken to him like that. But she’d been so desperate to leave before she said anything incriminating about George, and even more desperate to ensure that he would be out of her life for good.

  Stifling a yawn, she picked up her phone and gazed gloomil
y down at the time on the screen. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed, pull the duvet over her head and forget about the mess she’d made of her life.

  Unfortunately Elliot was dropping round to discuss the Claiborne meeting.

  For a moment she considered calling him to cancel. But being on her own with a head full of regrets and recriminations was not a great idea.

  Anticipating Elliot’s partisan comments as she relayed an edited version of the day’s events, she felt her mood lighten a fraction and, standing up, she walked into the tiny kitchen that led off from the living room.

  She was just pulling a bottle of wine from the rack when she heard the entryphone.

  Thank goodness! Elliot was early. Buzzing him up, she picked up a bottle of wine and two glasses.

  ‘Don’t be thinking we’re going to finish this—’ she began as she yanked open the door.

  But her words trailed off into silence. It wasn’t Elliot standing there, with that familiar affectionate grin on his face. Instead it was Aristo, and he wasn’t smiling affectionately. In fact, he wasn’t smiling at all.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘I WOULDN’T DREAM of it,’ he said softly.

  He held out his hand, his eyes locking with hers, and his sudden, swift smile made her heart lurch forward.

  ‘You forgot these, and I was passing so...’

  It was the pack of cards she’d left at his hotel.

  She felt her breathing jerk. For a few seconds she couldn’t answer—couldn’t find the words to express her shock and confusion at finding him on her doorstep. Actually, not on her doorstep—he was already leaning against the frame, one foot resting negligently over the threshold so that shutting the door wouldn’t just be a challenge, but a virtual impossibility, given the disparity in their respective weights.

  ‘You were passing?’

  She felt a shiver run over her skin as his dark gaze made a slow inspection of her, from the damp hair tumbling over her shoulders to her bare toes. Even if she’d been fully clothed she would have felt naked under his intense scrutiny, but she was wearing nothing but a T-shirt that was barely covered by her bathrobe.

  There was a pulsing silence and then, tilting his head slightly, he glanced past her into the apartment. ‘Aren’t you going to invite me in? Or do you always entertain your guests in the corridor?’

  ‘You’re not a guest. Guests are invited, and I didn’t invite you.’ She stared at him suspiciously. ‘And I didn’t tell you where I lived either, so how did you find me?’

  ‘I looked up “beautiful female magician” in the phone book.’ His dark eyes glittered with amusement. ‘You were there—right at the top.’

  Her skin was suddenly prickling, her stomach flipping over in response to his words. She’d spent so long remembering his flaws that she had forgotten he could make her laugh and it was an untimely reminder of why she’d fallen in love with him.

  Only, even as her mouth began to curl upwards she knew she was making a mistake. The last thing she needed right now was to give him any hint of her continuing vulnerability where he was concerned so, tuning out the erratic beat of her heart, she shook her head. ‘Aristo—’

  ‘Okay, that was a lie.’ He shifted against the doorframe. ‘I actually looked up “angry, beautiful female magician”.’

  Heart banging against her ribs, she took a deep breath, a rush of panic swamping her as she tried to gauge his mood. Surely if he’d found out about George he would be the angry one.

  ‘Did you follow me?’

  His smile widened. ‘Of course. I have a second job as a private detective.’

  Resisting the overriding urge to slam the door on his obviously expensive handmade shoes, she held his gaze. ‘Very funny. So you had somebody find out where I lived?’ She shook her head again. ‘That’s classy, Aristo.’

  ‘You gave me no choice. You left before we’d finished talking.’

  His complete inability to understand what had happened back at the hotel sucked her breath from her lungs.

  ‘No, I had finished talking, Aristo,’ she said irritably. ‘That’s why I gave you the number of my lawyer.’

  ‘Ah, yes, your lawyer.’ Pausing, he glanced over his shoulder and frowned, pretending concern. ‘Are you sure you want everyone hearing about your private business?’

  Teddie stared at him helplessly. She could tell from the glint in his eyes that he was not going to leave without saying whatever it was he wanted to say, and she couldn’t physically remove him herself.

  Maybe she should call for back-up. But who would she call? Her maintenance charge for the apartment included a caretaker who was nominally responsible for security, but she had no idea how to get in touch with him, and Aristo might make a scene and wake George.

  So that left her with the choice of having a conversation in the hallway or in her apartment. Her heart contracted with apprehension. Every instinct she had was screeching at her like a banshee not to let him into her apartment, but what if he met one of her neighbours and they mentioned her son?

  Maybe there were other options, but right now she was too tired and strung out to work them out—and besides, she wanted him out of the hallway and her life.

  Quickly she did an inventory of the apartment—thankfully she had tidied George’s toys away, and the only photos of him were in her bedroom. Her skin felt suddenly hot and tight, but of course there was no way Aristo would be going within a mile of that particular room.

  ‘Fine. You can come in,’ she said briskly. ‘But you can’t stay long.’

  Mentally crossing her fingers, she hoped that tonight wouldn’t be the one occasion when Elliot was on time. She had, of course, given him an abridged version of her ill-starred marriage, only she had carefully edited out all mention of the tangle of unresolved feelings she still carried around with her.

  But Elliot would only have to walk through her front door to know that she was upset, and right now she had enough going on with Aristo. She certainly didn’t want to have to deal with Elliot as well.

  ‘Ten minutes, Aristo, that’s all. And you’ll have to be quiet. I have elderly neighbours,’ she lied, ‘and I don’t want to disturb them.’

  His dark, unwavering gaze fixed on hers and she felt a sudden rush of panic, for it seemed as though he could not only sense her lies, but also the reason behind them—as if the T-shirt she was wearing was printed with the truth.

  ‘I can do quiet, Theodora. Or have you forgotten?’

  Her pulse fluttered, cheeks suddenly burning. No, she hadn’t forgotten. They had often been caught out by the strength of their desire, and on one particularly memorable occasion in a park they had satisfied their passion beneath the shade of a tree, hidden from passers-by. Quickly she pushed the thought away, wishing her brain hadn’t chosen to save that particular memory for posterity, but not even divorce proceedings had weakened the devastating pull of desire between them.

  Ignoring the quivering tension of her body, she lifted her chin and smiled at him coolly. ‘It must have slipped my memory.’

  Turning, she let the door fall back on his foot, his grunt of pain giving her a momentary but sharp satisfaction.

  Stopping what she considered a safe distance away from him, she watched as he strolled into her living room, his assessing gaze travelling over the modest interior and no doubt contrasting it with the luxury of the apartment they’d once shared. But who cared what he thought? He was only here under sufferance, and she needed to make that clear to him.

  ‘I gave you my lawyer’s number for a reason. So why are you here?’ she asked stiffly.

  She didn’t much care, but now that he was standing in her living room she realised there was no such thing as safe for her where Aristo was concerned. He was still wearing his suit, but he’d unbuttoned his shirt and lost the tie. Only, instead of making him less intimidating, his mo
re relaxed appearance only seemed to emphasise his natural authority.

  Add to that the fact that they were completely alone, it was no surprise that her head was starting to swim.

  But it wasn’t just the tantalising temptation of his nearness that was making her hold her breath. Earlier she’d been so concerned about inadvertently revealing something about George that she’d been able to ignore her guilt at not doing so. In the unfamiliar surroundings of the Kildare Hotel it had felt almost like someone else’s life.

  Now, though, it felt real, personal, and she could feel herself wavering. Could she really go through with this? Could she really cheat him out of knowing his son? Shouldn’t she at least give him the chance? And what about George? He’d already asked her why he didn’t have a daddy.

  So far he was too young to really focus on the issue, but that would change...

  ‘I didn’t speak to her.’

  It took her a moment to realise that he was replying to her question about her lawyer.

  He was standing with his back to her, studying the books on her shelves, and she stared tensely at him, remembering how he’d loved to lie with that same head on her lap and how she’d loved to run her fingers through the thick, black hair...

  She jumped slightly as he turned, her cheeks flushing with colour as his all-seeing dark eyes fixed on hers.

  ‘There was no point,’ he said blithely. ‘Why pay legal fees when we can talk for free?’

  Her skin felt suddenly too tight. There was a long, steady silence as she stared at him incredulously. If she hadn’t been so stunned, she might have laughed. ‘Are you giving me advice?’

  There was another long silence, and then he shrugged. ‘Somebody has to. Clearly whoever has been doing so up until now can’t have had your best interests at heart.’

  He watched her green eyes widen, feeling childishly but intensely gratified that his words had clearly scored a direct hit. And then he caught sight of the two glasses and abruptly his mood changed, for clearly she hadn’t been planning on spending the evening alone.