Bought: The Greek’s Baby

by Jennie Lucas

He winced, then reached for her. “Eve, please—”

  “No!” She jerked away from him. “Don’t touch me!” She turned away, heading for the door, desperate to get out of the bedroom, away from the soft, mussed sheets that were still warm from the tender passion of their bodies, away from the scent of him that still clung to her. Away from the happiness of the innocent, explosive joy she’d experienced but moments before.

  “I don’t blame you,” he said quietly behind her, causing her to halt. “When I found out you were Dalton’s daughter, I already knew I was falling in love with you. So I brought you here to the island.” He took a deep breath. “I thought if I kept you safe and hidden from the world, you wouldn’t remember. I prayed you never would.”

  She whirled around with a gasp, the breath suddenly knocked out of her.

  “To punish me?” she said, wanting to cry. She lifted her chin. “To claim your victory?”

  Talos bowed his head. “To be your husband,” he whispered. “To love you for the rest of my life.”

  His words crept into her soul like mist, whispering echoes of past tenderness and love.

  No! She wouldn’t let him trick her ever again!

  Wiping away her tears angrily, she lifted her chin. “Don’t talk to me of love,” she spat out scornfully. “My father gave you everything, and you ruined him without mercy. For your own gain.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “You never named your source. Who was it?”

  “I gave my word I wouldn’t reveal that,” he said quietly.

  “Because you forged those documents yourself!” She gave him a last, contemptuous glance. “My father should have left you in the gutters of Athens to die. And that’s what I’m doing now. Leaving you—”

  He grabbed her shoulders desperately. “He was guilty, Eve. I can only imagine what lies Dalton told you, but he was guilty. He stole almost ten million dollars from his shareholders. When I found out about it, I had no choice. The man deserved justice!”

  “Justice!” Gasping, she slapped him across the face. “He deserved your loyalty,” she cried, drawing herself up in a fury. “Instead, you betrayed him. You lied!”

  “No!”

  “After you ruined him, he drank himself to oblivion then crashed his car. My mother’s death was slower. She went back to England to marry and make sure I’d be looked after. But within months of marrying my stepfather, she took a whole bottle of pills to bed!”

  Releasing her, he stared down at her in shock. “I heard she died of heart trouble.”

  She gave a scornful laugh. “Heart trouble. My stepfather loved her. He wasn’t going to let anyone speak ill of her or of the way she died. So he and Dr. Bartlett cooked that little fiction for the press. She was only thirty-five years old.” She narrowed her eyes. “But you’re right. She did die of a broken heart. Because of you.”

  “Eve, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I did what I thought was right. Forgive me—”

  “I will never, ever forgive you.” She looked at him, cold and proud. “I never want to see you again.”

  “You’re my wife.”

  “I’ll be filing for divorce as soon as I return to London.”

  “You’re pregnant with my child!”

  “I will raise this baby alone.”

  He gasped, “You can’t cut me out of my child’s life!”

  “My baby will be better off with no father than with a faithless, treacherous bastard like you!” Tears rushed into her eyes, tears she no longer even tried to hide. “Do you think I could ever let myself trust you? Do you think I could ever forgive myself if I did?”

  “Your father was the one who betrayed and hurt your family.”

  “You have no proof of that,” she said coldly. “You are the only liar I see. You said you loved me!”

  “I do love you!” His voice was ragged, anguished.

  “You don’t know what love means.”

  She heard his harsh intake of breath.

  “I do now,” he said hoarsely. He reached toward her, inches from her cheek, and in spite of everything, her breath quickened as she recalled all the times he’d tenderly stroked her face. “When you lost your memory, you regained your lost innocence and faith. And somehow you made me find mine,” he whispered. “Just give me the chance to love you. Test me as you will. Let me prove my love for you.”

  She thought she saw a shimmer of tears in his eyes.

  Talos Xenakis, the scourge of the world—crying?

  No. Impossible. It was another of his cruel, selfish games. She thought of how he’d ruthlessly wooed her in Venice, tricking her into marriage with romance and soft words only to punish her the moment they were married. Crossing her arms, she drew herself up stiffly.

  “Very well,” she said coldly, lifting her chin. “I will let you prove you love me. Give up this child and never contact us again.”

  He gasped. “Don’t make me do it, Eve,” he choked out. “Anything but that.”

  “If you don’t do it, you prove you don’t love me,” she said with satisfaction. She started to turn away.

  Without warning, he grabbed her. Pulling her into his embrace, he kissed her. His lips seared her with longing and wistful tenderness. It was a kiss that held the promise of love to last forever.

  She trembled. Then even as her knees went weak, a cold sheet of ice came down over her heart.

  Savagely, she pushed away from him. “Never touch me again.”

  Still naked, he clenched his hands, staring at her. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, guttural.

  “I will do what you ask,” he said thickly. “I will stay away from you and our baby. But only until I find the proof that your father lied.” His dark eyes glittered at her. “When I have proof that you cannot deny, I will return. And you will be forced to see the truth.”

  She tossed her head, folding her arms.

  “Then I am well satisfied, because you will never find that proof.” Her lip curled as she gave him one last look. “But thank you. You’ve just given me your word of honor you’ll stay away from me and the baby—forever.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  FIVE months later, Eve stood alone by her mother’s grave.

  It was only the first week of March, but already the first blush of early spring had come to Buckinghamshire. The weeping willows were green and gold beside the lake, splashing the season’s first color over the graveyard of the old gray church.

  In her white goose down coat and green wellies, Eve felt hot and out of breath after crossing the hill from her estate. Not that it was terribly far, but at nine months pregnant, every move was an effort. Even bringing daisies, her mother’s favorite flower, to her grave.

  Eve glanced at the daffodils poking through the cold earth nearby. Just a few weeks ago, the ground had been covered with snow. How had time fled so fast? Her baby was due any day now.

  Her poor, fatherless baby.

  It had been such a long lonely winter. During the five months since she’d left Greece, she’d tried to forget Talos. Tried to pretend that her baby’s father was a figment of her imagination, the remnant of a bad dream from long ago. But her dreams had insisted otherwise, and in her secluded, drafty mansion, she’d had one hot dream after another to make her sweat and cry out for Talos in her sleep.

  She had tried to lose herself in the life she’d left behind, the whirl of social life, of lunch with friends in London and shopping trips to New York. But it had all just depressed her. Those people weren’t really her friends—had never been her friends. She saw now that she had deliberately chosen shallow acquaintances, the kind she could keep at a distance. She’d never wanted anyone to really know her. It had been the only way she’d been able to stay focused on her goal of revenge.

  Now what was left?

  Even though she’d regained her memory, she wasn’t the same woman anymore. Nor was she the happy, bright, naive girl she’d been before her memory had returned.

  She almost wished
she were. Eve closed her eyes, missing the happy, optimistic, loving person she’d been before. That she’d been with him. She missed loving him. She even missed hating him.

  But it was all over now.

  Her eyes swam with tears, causing the spring countryside to smear in her vision like an impressionist painting.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, placing her hand on her mother’s gravestone. “I couldn’t destroy him like I thought.”

  She knelt, brushing earth off the gray marble angel before placing half the daisies on her grave. “I’m going to have his baby any day now. And I forced him to promise to stay away from us.” She gave a harsh laugh. “I guess I never thought he’d stay so true to his word. Perhaps he’s not the liar I thought.” She wiped the tears that left cold tracks down her cheeks, chilling beneath the brisk spring wind as she said softly, “What should I do?”

  Her mother’s grave was silent. Eve heard only the sigh of the wind through the trees as she stared down at the words on the gravestone.

  Beloved wife, they said. She glanced at her stepfather’s gravestone beside it. Loving husband.

  Her stepfather had loved Bonnie since they were children. Then she’d met a handsome Yank in Boston who’d swept her off her feet. But John had still loved her—so much he’d taken her back willingly when she was widowed, even adopting her child as his own.

  But her mother had never stopped loving Dalton—who had never loved her back with the same devotion.

  Were all love affairs like that? One person gave—and the other person took?

  No. Her throat suddenly hurt. Sometimes love and passion could be equally joined, like a mutual fire. She’d felt it.

  The desire between Eve and Talos had been explosive, matched. She’d been so lucky and she hadn’t even known it. For all her adult life, she’d been focused on the wrong thing. On revenge. On regaining a memory that had ultimately caused her nothing but grief.

  A bitter laugh stuck in her throat.

  She’d pushed away the stepfather who had loved her, spent time with people she didn’t care about, learnt about fashion and flirtation and revenge. And for what? What did she have to show for it—for all her lost youth?

  Nothing but the graves of the people who’d loved her, some money she hadn’t earned and a coming baby who had no father. Nothing but an empty bed and no one to hold her on a cold winter’s night.

  “I’m sorry, John.” She leaned her forehead against her stepfather’s gravestone, placing a handful of the first daisies of spring on the earth. “I should have come home for Christmas. For every Christmas. Forgive me.”

  Hearing a robin’s song from the nearby trees, she felt oddly comforted. She rose to her feet, rubbing her aching back and belly as she straightened.

  “I’ll try to come back soon,” she said softly. “To let you both know how we get on.”

  And with one last silent prayer over those two quiet graves, she started to walk back home.

  Home, she thought, looking up at the Craig estate on the other side of the hill. A funny way to describe this place. The only place she’d ever thought of as home had been her family’s old Massachusetts farmhouse.

  At least until recently, when every night she dreamed of a villa on a private island in the Mediterranean that was a million shades of white and blue…

  She took a deep breath.

  With her eyes wide open, she was left in darkness and shadows. She didn’t know who she was anymore. She didn’t know what to believe in.

  She missed her old faith.

  She missed him.

  Eve felt her baby give a hard kick in response to the emotion racing through her. She felt another pain in her lower back as she wiped her tears fiercely. But obviously Talos hadn’t missed her. If he had, he would have followed her here, promise or no promise. He wouldn’t have stayed away from his wife and unborn child, searching for some stupid proof when their baby was due any day!

  Don’t make me do it, Eve. She heard the echo of his anguished voice. Anything but that.

  She felt a sharp pain through her womb. With a gasp, she stumbled across the driveway and up the steps to the side door.

  “Is that you, Miss Craig?” the housekeeper called from the kitchen.

  Miss Craig. As if her marriage had never happened. As if she’d actually followed through on her ridiculous threat to divorce him. Hearing her maiden name still choked her—even though she was the one who’d insisted on it. “I’m fine.”

  The plump-cheeked housekeeper came into the foyer with a smile, holding a stack of letters. “I was cleaning out some of your stepfather’s things, as you requested. I almost threw this envelope out with the rubbish but then happened to notice it had your name.”

  “Leave it with me,” Eve gasped. Holding the envelope, she sat down on a hard chair in the dining room—afraid if she went for the cushy sofa in the parlor she’d never be able to get up again. Fake labor pains, she tried to tell herself. Braxton-Hicks contractions. But a moment later, as she leaned back into the chair, another pain ripped through her.

  She took deep breaths as she’d learned in childbirth class—alone—and tried to control her sudden fear. Every nerve in her body told her that it was time. She was going into labor.

  And she didn’t want to do it alone.

  In spite of everything, she’d somehow thought he would come back for her.

  But why would he? she thought savagely. After everything she’d said? He’d been willing to forgive her cold-hearted betrayal last June, but she’d been unable even to consider the possibility that he’d been telling the truth about her father.

  Her father…

  Gasping, she looked down at the envelope written in her stepfather’s hand. She ripped it open.

  Dear Evie,

  I found this letter among your mother’s possessions after she died. I didn’t know whether you should ever see it. Sometimes it’s best not to know the truth. I will let fate decide. Your mother always loved you, and so did I. God bless you.

  There was another smaller envelope inside. She sat up straight, ignoring another sharp contraction as she saw her father’s sharp, faded handwriting. It was a love letter, dated the day before her father’s embezzlement had been revealed to the press.

  Bonnie,

  I can’t keep lying anymore. I’m leaving you. My secretary wants adventure like I do—like you used to. But don’t worry, honey. You and the kiddo will be fine. I’ve managed to get a chunk of money, the bonus they should have given me over the years.

  I’ve left half the money for you.

  Dalton

  With a gasp, Eve crushed the letter to her chest.

  She’d thought her mother had died of a broken heart.

  She’d been wrong.

  You never named your source. Who was it?

  Sadly: I gave my word I wouldn’t reveal that.

  Her mother had betrayed her father. But within months, she’d been smothered by the coldness of her own revenge. It was the same chill that had frozen Eve over the last five months.

  Eve had unknowingly modeled her life after her mother’s. She’d given up love, selfishly thrown away her baby’s chance for a father, for the cold, dead satisfaction of revenge.

  Oh my God, what had she done?

  Eve cried out as another pain ripped through her. And this time, it really hurt.

  “Miss Craig?” The housekeeper suddenly appeared.

  “Call me Mrs. Xenakis,” Eve cried, rising to her feet. “I want my husband. Please—get me my husband!”

  “Are you in labor? I’ll call the doctor—I’ll get the car around—”

  “No,” Eve panted, placing her hands on her belly. It couldn’t be time, not yet. “We’re not going anywhere—not until—he’s here!”

  She swayed, her knees nearly buckling beneath her as another pain ripped through her. Her baby was about to be born.

  Eve looked around the elegant, cold, drafty mansion. She didn’t want to be the woman
she’d been, buried in the past as her mother had been.

  Eve wanted a future. She wanted her baby to grow up happy and secure, in a home full of life and color and joy. She wanted Talos as her baby’s father. As her husband.

  She wanted to love him.

  And she had the choice.

  “Please get me the phone,” she panted.

  “You stay right there,” the housekeeper pleaded, running to the nearby phone. She dialed the telephone number Eve gave her, then, after speaking, she held down the receiver. “His assistant says he’s unavailable, traveling in Asia.”

  Unavailable? In Asia?

  Talos must have decided he didn’t want her, she thought miserably. He was done with her.

  “Did you tell him I’m in labor?” she panted.

  “Yes, and that you’d like your husband to come to London as soon as possible. Can I do anything more?”

  “No,” Eve whispered. There was nothing more to be done. Nothing more to be said. If he was in Asia, he’d never make it back to London in time.

  Even if he wanted to.

  Eve felt like crying.

  As the housekeeper ordered the chauffeur to bring around the car, Eve covered her face with her hands. Why had she been so blind? He’d offered her his love with both hands, and she’d pushed it away. Now she was going to have their baby alone. She’d raise their child alone.

  For the rest of her life she would be…alone.

  And she would die loving him. A man she could never have. Her child would have no father, and it was all her fault. A shaky sob escaped her lips as she suddenly heard a loud noise, crashing, someone shouting.

  “Let me in here, damn you, I know she’s here!”

  The dining room door banged open. She looked up in shock to see Talos, wild-eyed, pushing past the housekeeper into the house. He fell to his knees in front of her.

  “I know you said you didn’t want me, but if you send me away now—”

  “No,” she whispered, throwing her arms around his shoulders with a sudden sob. “I’ll never send you away again. You’re here. I wanted you so badly, and you’re here.”

  Exhaling in a rush, he closed his eyes and held her tightly. Her voice was muffled against his shirt as she said, “Your assistant said you were traveling in Asia.”