Christmas Baby For The Greek (HQR Presents)

by Jennie Lucas

  “Yes.” His heart felt radioactive. Grimly, he buried it in lead, beneath ten feet of ice. “I never wanted you to love me.”

  “I know. And I was so mad when you told me this would happen.” Her expression was wistful. “That I wouldn’t be able to resist falling in love with you.”

  His shoulders felt painfully tight. “You’re a good person, Holly. I don’t want you to suffer.” He pleaded, “Can’t you be happy with the life we have? Can’t you just take your love back?”

  Holly stared at him for a long moment, then slowly shook her head.

  “I can’t. I can’t pretend not to love you. I can’t wish it away. I’m sorry. I know I’m putting you in a position you never wanted to be.” Blinking fast, she tried to smile through her tears. “It’ll be all right.”

  Stavros frowned, coming closer. He yearned to wrap his arms around her, to comfort her. But how could he, when he himself was the reason she was crying? “It will?”

  Holly nodded. “It’s time for me to grow up. To see things as they really are.” She looked at him. “Not as I wish they could be.”

  He felt her words like an ice pick through his frozen heart. And it was then that he saw her old overnight bag, sitting by the front door.

  “You’re leaving me,” he whispered, hardly able to believe it.

  Looking away, Holly nodded. Tears were streaking her face. “I knew what you were going to say. But I...I guess I just had to hear it aloud. To know there was absolutely no hope.”

  Reaching forward, he grabbed her shoulders and searched her gaze. “You don’t have to leave. I want you to stay...”

  She shook her head. “I saw Nicole today. Oliver’s left her for another woman. In the past, I would have been scrambling to try to fix her life, to smooth her path. But she doesn’t need that anymore. She’s stronger than I thought. And you know what? So am I.” Lifting her gaze to his, she said simply, “I’ve been on my own before. I can do it again.”

  Stavros dropped his hands. “On your own?”

  “I once thought the only way I’d be loved was if I sacrificed myself for others. It’s taken all this—” she looked around the elegant, sparsely decorated penthouse “—for me to realize that’s not how love works. You can’t earn someone’s love by giving them your soul. They either love you, or they don’t.” She gave him a tremulous smile. “It’s all right, Stavros. Truly. You’ll be better off this way, too. You have nothing to feel bad about.”

  “Holly, damn it—”

  “It’s no one’s fault.” She tried to smile. “Thank you for telling me the truth.”

  “And this is my reward?” A lump was in his throat. “To have you leave?”

  “No one will be surprised when we break up. You gave your baby your name. That’s enough.” Wiping her eyes, she gave a wry grin. “I mean, come on, a secretary and a billionaire tycoon? No one would ever think that marriage could last.”

  “And Freddie?” he said hoarsely.

  A wave of emotion went over Holly’s face. But he saw her control it, saw her accept it and master it.

  “We’ll share custody,” she said quietly. “You’ll always be in his life.” She allowed herself a rueful smile. “Although let’s be honest. Working eighteen-hour days, Christmas included, you weren’t exactly going to see him much, anyway, were you? Even if we all lived in the same house.”

  Stavros’s heart twisted at the thought of no longer living in the same house as his baby son. But how could he argue with her?

  Everything she’d said was true. Just like with her birthday party, he’d made grand promises he hadn’t kept. He’d sworn he’d be an amazing father. Then he’d disappeared to the office.

  He yearned to reach for her, to drag her into his arms, to kiss her senseless until she agreed to forget this love idea and stay with him forever.

  But he was backed into a corner. Holly was leaving him, and there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn’t lure or romance her into staying, knowing he’d be stealing her soul and giving nothing back in return. He couldn’t be such a monster, allowing her to remain and look at him each day with heartbreaking hope in her eyes, yearning for love he couldn’t give.

  Nor could he be the spiteful, selfish man his father had been, trying to hold her against her will, by threatening to take custody of Freddie or withholding the five million dollars guaranteed by their prenuptial agreement, in a malicious attempt to punish her, or keep her down.

  No.

  “Where will you go?” he asked in a small voice.

  “Switzerland.”

  “Tonight? So late?”

  “I wasn’t sure when you’d get home tonight.” She gave a brief smile. “Or even if you’d come home.”

  His eyes tightened. “I explained why I was late.”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore.” Her smile was sad. “Freddie and I are booked on the first plane to Zurich tomorrow. It leaves at five. It seemed easier to stay overnight at a hotel by the airport. Eleni’s already there with him.”

  He wouldn’t even get to say goodbye to his son? He felt a lump in his throat, a coldness spreading to his chest. He wanted to argue, to demand more time.

  Then he looked at Holly. She’d already decided. Once a woman knew what she wanted, what was to be gained from waiting?

  He’d never admired her more than he did in this moment.

  All he could try to do was accept her decision better than his own father had. He forced himself to ask the question. “When can I see him again?”

  “Anytime you come to Switzerland.”

  His voice was hoarse as he said, “Take my jet.”

  Holly looked surprised at his offer, then gave a crooked half grin. “We don’t need anything so fancy. Commercial is fine. Just a seat in economy class with my baby in my lap.”

  Stavros imagined his wife crammed into an uncomfortable middle seat, with four-hundred-pound men on each side of her, and their baby squirming and crying in her lap for nine hours straight. “If you don’t want to take my jet, at least fly first class. You don’t need to economize. Your prenuptial agreement guarantees—”

  “No.” She cut him off harshly. “That’s Freddie’s money.”

  “I’ll always provide for Freddie. The five million is yours.”

  “I don’t want it.” Her green eyes were hard. Then she added lightly, “Anyway, first class is no place for a baby. The executives and supermodels up there would smash their champagne flutes and attack us if Freddie started crying. Which he will. His ears always hurt during takeoff. You remember how it was when we flew to Greece. And New York.”

  Their eyes met, and he felt a stab in his chest.

  “My jet will take you.” He was proud of his matter-of-fact tone.

  “It’s not necessary—”

  “Stop arguing.” His voice was flat, brooking no opposition. “You don’t need to sleep in a motel ’til morning. You can leave at once. Freddie will be more comfortable. You know it’s true.”

  She sighed. “Thanks,” she said slowly. Pulling the huge diamond ring off her finger, she held it out. “This belongs to you.”

  Reluctantly, he took it. The ten-carat, platinum-set diamond that had been the symbol of forever was now just a cold rock in his hand. He gripped it in his palm.

  “I’ll have a lawyer contact you after Christmas.” She tried to smile. “We’ll be civilized.”

  He’d never felt this wretched, even when his mother had died. As Holly turned to go, he choked out unwillingly, “How can you do this? If you love me, how can you leave?”

  She turned back, her eyes full of tears. “If I’m not strong now, I never will be. And we’ll both have lifetimes of regret. I know what your childhood did to you. I won’t let our son believe all the wrong things about what a marriage is supposed to be. I won’t let him grow up crippled like...” />
  “Like I am?” Stavros said in a low voice.

  Coming forward, she kissed his cheek. He felt her warmth, breathed in the scent of vanilla and orange blossoms.

  “Be happy,” she whispered.

  And, picking up her overnight bag, Holly left.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE NEXT MORNING Stavros woke up to the blaring sound of an alarm on his phone. Without opening his eyes, he reached out for Holly’s warmth.

  Her side of the bed was cold. And he remembered. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

  She was gone.

  With a hollow breath, he looked down at his rumpled clothes. He’d fallen into bed last night in his white shirt and black trousers. He hadn’t had the energy to change his clothes. He hadn’t wanted to think. It was either fall into bed, or into a bottle of whiskey, and the bed had been closer.

  But he’d dreamed all night, strange dreams where he was smiling and happy. Beautiful, vibrant dreams in which he’d held his wife’s hand, and they’d been together in a wintry valley, making a snowman with their son. Stavros hadn’t been afraid to love her. In his dream, he’d fearlessly given her all his heart.

  The cobwebs of those dreams taunted him as he stiffly sat up in the cold light. It was Christmas Eve morning. Everything looked gray. His empty bedroom. The city outside. The sky. Gray. All gray.

  Except—

  His eyes narrowed when he saw a strange flash of color. Something red. Getting out of bed, he padded softly across the marble floor as he reached for something in the branches of the artificial tree. A small Christmas present, wrapped in red homemade paper with a red bow.

  To my husband.

  His heart twisted. For a moment, he stared at it, like he’d discovered a poisonous snake amid the branches. Then, grimly, he lifted the small box in his hand. It weighed almost nothing. He wondered if she’d gotten him the gift before she’d decided to leave him, or after. He hoped it was after. He couldn’t bear to open a gift filled with all the awful hope of her romantic dreams.

  He didn’t want it. He’d have to be a masochist to even look. He dropped the gift back into the tree, then went to take a shower. Taking off his wrinkled clothes, he let the scalding hot water burn down his skin. He scrubbed his hair until his scalp ached.

  Perhaps it was better their marriage had ended this way. Swiftly. Cleanly. Before anyone got seriously hurt. Before they realized how little he deserved their love, when he was incapable of giving himself in return.

  He remembered Holly’s haunted, heartbroken face.

  I love you. Can you ever love me?

  And his cool, factual response as he’d told her he’d never love her. Told her it was nothing personal.

  Shutting off the hot water, he stood still in the shower, remembering. His heart was pounding strangely.

  Going to his walk-in closet, he tried not to look at all the designer clothes Holly had left behind, many of them still unworn, wrapped in garment bags from the boutiques. Feeling hollow, he turned away, pulling on black silk boxers and black trousers. He would call his acquisition team to tell them they needed to come in tonight. Christmas Eve be damned. Business was what mattered. Building his empire for his son to inherit—

  What was in Holly’s gift?

  Turning on his heel, he almost ran across the bedroom to the Christmas tree. Grabbing Holly’s present, he ripped off the wrapping paper and yanked open the tiny cardboard box.

  Inside, tucked into white tissue paper, he saw a homemade Christmas ornament, a red felt star. He heard her sweet voice like a whisper through his heart.

  My parents were happy, chasing their stars.

  A lump rose in his throat. Not everyone was so lucky. Not everyone could—

  “You are a fool, Stavi.”

  The words, spoken in Greek, were more mournful than accusing. Turning, he saw Eleni standing in the doorway.

  “She chose to go. I could not stop her,” he replied in the same language. The elderly Greek woman shook her head.

  “She loves you. The last thing she wanted was to go.”

  “Her quick departure proves otherwise,” he said flatly. He looked out the window at the gray morning above the gray city. He knew the stars existed above the clouds, even now. But he couldn’t see them. Just like his wife and child.

  He wondered if his private jet had landed yet. If the sky in Switzerland right now was bright and blue above the sparkling Alpine snow. He imagined them decorating a Christmas tree. Drinking cocoa. He saw Holly, so beautiful and loving and warm, wearing flannel pajamas tonight as she put stockings on the hearth of the old cabin’s stone fireplace. She believed in love. She probably believed in Santa, too.

  “Oh, Stavi.” Eleni sighed, making clucking noises with her tongue. “Why did you not just tell her the truth?”

  Anger went through him.

  “I did,” he growled. “I can never love her.”

  The older woman’s dark eyes looked back at him, and she sighed again.

  “Men,” she chided, shaking her head slightly. “The truth is, you already do.”

  Stavros stared at her.

  “Love Holly?” Ridiculous. He wouldn’t love anyone. Love was a tragedy that made victims out of at least one, if not two people. He scoffed rudely, “You’re out of your mind, old woman.”

  But she didn’t let his insult stop her. “Of course you love her. Why else would you send her away?”

  “Now I know you’re crazy.” He looked at her incredulously. “Sending Holly away proves I love her?”

  Eleni looked at him steadily. “You think you’re not worthy of her. So you won’t let her waste years of her life, like your mother did, loving someone who obviously doesn’t deserve it.”

  Stavros stared at her in shock. His eyes narrowed.

  “I’m nothing like my father.”

  The white-haired Greek woman tilted her head, her dark eyes glinting in the shadowy dawn. “No? It’s true you don’t sleep with other women. But do you ignore? Do you abandon and neglect?”

  His hands tightened at his sides. “I’ve been nothing but good to them.”

  “You forget I’ve been living here lately.” She lifted her chin. “While you have not.”

  Stavros opened his mouth to argue. Then he closed it again. Yes, all right, he hadn’t been around much for the last few weeks. He’d barely seen either his new wife or his child. But he’d been trying to protect them. From loving him. Because he didn’t want them hurt.

  He’d tried his best. He’d given Holly his name. His money. They’d wanted for nothing.

  Except his attention and love.

  Because they deserved more. They deserved better.

  Because he wasn’t worthy.

  Swallowing hard, Stavros stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the city.

  “Go to her,” Eleni said softly behind him. “If you do not, if you are not brave enough to fight for her, brave enough to give her everything, you will regret it all your life.”

  Silence fell.

  He whirled around, but she was gone.

  Pacing the room, he stopped, staring down at the red felt star his wife had made for him. He’d brought her to New York with great fanfare, promising he’d be a good husband, promising he’d be a good father, promising her she’d never regret it. Insisting he wanted to throw a party for her birthday.

  Then he’d done none of it, and ghosted her.

  Eleni was right. He’d abandoned his family. Not because of some business deal. And not even because he was trying to protect them.

  He’d deliberately avoided his wife because he was afraid.

  Afraid if she ever really got to know him, she would finally realize that she was the conqueror, not him.

  My father always said loving my mother changed his life. She made him a husband. A father. More than
he ever imagined he could be. He always said she changed his stars.

  Slowly, Stavros held up the red felt star.

  He wasn’t worthy of her. That was true. He didn’t know if he ever could be.

  But he’d never let fear stop him before. It hadn’t stopped him from building a billion-dollar company out of nothing. It hadn’t stopped him from marrying Holly, though he’d somehow always known this was how it would end.

  Could he change?

  Could he be brave enough to give her everything?

  Could he win her heart?

  Tears filled his eyes as he looked out over New York City. He couldn’t see the stars above the clouds, but they were there. Waiting for him to see them. Waiting to guide him.

  Stavros gripped the red felt star in his hand. It was as soft as her red hair. As tender as her heart.

  Blinking fast, he took a deep breath.

  Maybe, just maybe...it wasn’t too late to change his stars.

  * * *

  The Swiss valley was dark and silent, late on Christmas Eve.

  Outside, the stars were bright as diamonds in the cold, black night. In the distance, Holly could hear church bells ringing for midnight mass. The road in front of her cabin was empty. Her neighbors had all gone to spend time with friends and family—those who hadn’t gone to sunny climes for a holiday.

  She was glad she’d taken Stavros’s jet, as he’d insisted. Freddie’s ears had hurt, and he’d cried the whole way. So had she. Exhausted from crying for hours, her baby had finally gone to sleep an hour before. Now, she was alone in the quiet.

  Holly wondered what her husband was doing right now, back in New York. She looked out the cabin’s window, but all she saw was the reflection of a young red-haired woman, lonely and sad.

  No. She couldn’t feel sorry for herself. She was lucky to have this cabin for herself and her child. Lucky to have time and space to figure out how to start over.

  Opening the front door, Holly looked out at the quiet, wintry valley. Moonlight swept the snow, and she could see the sharp Alps high above. Her breath was white smoke dancing in the air, the icy cold a shock against her lungs. From a distance, she could see a car’s lights winding down the valley road toward her tiny chalet. Someone was traveling to be with family for Christmas, she thought, and her heart felt a pang.