Claimed for the Greek's Child

by Pippa Roscoe

  Amalia was struggling in her arms, refusing to get into it.

  ‘It’s okay. You’re better off carrying her anyway,’ Dimitri stated. ‘My family will want to pass her around. I hope that you’re okay with that?’

  The tone of his voice issued a challenge she knew she had no hope of winning. And besides, this was why she had come to Greece, she reminded herself. To allow Amalia to get to know her family. Of course, that was before she had been threatened with blackmail to marry a man she hardly knew but was beginning to see glimpses of. So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours, it was hard to focus on that salient event. And today, she was supposed to smile and lie to that same family about what she was doing in Greece.

  She hadn’t even agreed to his demands yet, but sensed that he, as with all else, simply expected her compliance. Anna felt swept along by the tidal wave that was Dimitri. With no choice, no decision-making necessary, all she could do was hope to come out the other end able to breathe.

  She followed him up the stone stairs that led to an impressive set of large doors, open on their hinges. A wall of cool air hit her the moment she stepped over the threshold, as did the sounds of a large outdoor party in full swing. They passed through a cream marble foyer, with room after room shooting off the corridor, each decorated in styles that ranged from tasteful to outrageous. But it was when they reached the doorway to the garden that her feet slowed to a stop. Even Amalia had stopped wriggling. Anna tried to prevent the gasp that fell from her lips, but clearly failed. It was like a scene from a magazine spread of the rich and famous—only she didn’t recognise any of the people.

  A tall, thin, attractive woman approached with a wide smile and a twinkle in her eye. She introduced herself as Nella, Dimitri’s cousin, and drew them towards a circle of women and children sitting under a large white awning.

  Within seconds, the whole of Dimitri’s family had descended upon them, all speaking at the same time, pinching cheeks, giving hugs, and a litany of comments in both English and Greek complaining of how skinny both Anna and Amalia were. Amalia was quickly removed from her embrace and replaced with a plate of food and a glass of wine.

  Even though Dimitri stood behind her, silent and brooding, as if reluctant to let them out of his sight, Anna couldn’t help but smile as her daughter lapped up the attention lavished upon her, while she answered yet another question about why she didn’t have red hair or pale skin. Yes, she was Irish, but she was also Vietnamese. Unsurprisingly this didn’t seem to help the confusion much. No, she couldn’t possibly eat another bite; she was almost popping out of the brand-new dress. As would Amalia, if she wasn’t careful.

  In a small corner of her heart, Anna had to acknowledge that everyone was lovely and welcoming. All the aunts and uncles, cousins and children were loud and brash and exactly how she’d once wanted Amalia’s family to be. With a few glances at his chiselled profile she stuck to the story that Dimitri had woven from the space in between truth and fiction: that they had met three years ago and had wanted to keep their relationship quiet because of the legal problems. She voiced the lies time and time again because his family all seemed so hopeful that something good had come from such a difficult time.

  Anna had never really given much thought to the ramifications of Dimitri’s half-brother’s actions. She hadn’t even had the chance to find out what he felt about the whole thing. What that kind of betrayal must have done to him. That thought probed painfully at the thin layer of guilt hiding beneath the outrage she struggled with from his high-handedness.

  Dimitri’s cousin Nella drew her back from her thoughts by telling her that she was too pale, that she needed more sun to make her skin shine. Whether it was because she had spent years hating the very thing that had marked her as so different in Ireland, or whether it was because she liked the straight-talking Greek girl, she promised herself that she would make an effort with Nella, as something about her made her think that they could be really good friends.

  * * *

  Seeing Anna tucked safely under the wing of his cousin, Dimitri turned to observe the rest of the party, trying to see it with fresh eyes. Women in richly coloured clothes—turquoise, red, white, royal blue—assaulted the eyes, but not as much as the incredible amount of expensive jewellery that hung around necks, dripped from ears and fingers. Deeply tanned men in linen suits wore watches that screamed money, sunglasses that hid boredom or jealousy, or both.

  He’d recognised Anna’s initial look of wonder, curiosity and even a little bit of fear and with an amused laugh he didn’t really feel, he realised that he must have looked like that the first time he’d come here.

  ‘Is it hard being back here after what happened with your brother?’

  He hadn’t realised that Anna had stopped speaking with Nella and come to stand beside him.

  ‘Half-brother,’ Dimitri instantly replied. As if that made it more understandable. As if that made the betrayal somehow less. He hadn’t wanted to admit to her that this was the first time since Manos’s arrest that he’d been home. The first time that he’d seen his father and stepmother in person. It was a weakness, and he hated it.

  Only his father could throw such a lavish party in the face of such an enormous family scandal and get away with it. Nowhere on the faces of the guests did he see concern or embarrassment. The only intrigue came from the rabid reporters clamouring at the gates. And he wondered if it was exactly this kind of self-delusion, this ability to ignore something so wrong, that had allowed Manos to get away with what he did.

  A waiter passed with a tray of champagne flutes, and, unthinking, he took one and drank down half of the serving. When Anna politely declined he raised an eyebrow, forgetting that she couldn’t see it behind the large frames of his sunglasses.

  ‘You can drink if you want. I’ll only be having this one.’ He needed all his wits about him with the exchange he was about to have with his father.

  ‘That’s okay, I don’t really drink.’

  Of course she wouldn’t. Mary Moore had probably seen to that. But then the memory of their first night together surfaced again, unbidden. The taste of whisky on her lips, unable to mask the sweetness of her mouth.

  ‘When we met—’

  ‘Darling,’ a voice interrupted his train of thought. ‘You’re here,’ scolded Eleni Kyriakou in English, as if they hadn’t already been here some time. And ‘darling’? When had she ever called him that? he wondered, not even bothering to scour his memory. He turned to take in the vivid array of patterned silks that adorned his stepmother. There was an almost forced happiness in her eyes—as if that could cover the deep discomfort they had both felt long before Manos’s arrest.

  ‘Eleni,’ he acknowledged, knowing that it was better to meet her head-on than avoid her.

  ‘And this,’ she said with more warmth than he’d ever heard before, ‘must be Amalia. My beautiful granddaughter.’

  Dimitri scanned Anna’s face for any signs that she might have been upset by the subtle snub, but her features were schooled. Good. She’d need to keep them that way if she was to survive this afternoon.

  Guilty. When was he going to stop feeling guilty? Christe mou, perhaps he was the one who needed to toughen up. He was doing what he had to in order to claim his child. Anna had made decisions that had brought this upon herself. That was what he needed to remind himself. His only interest in her went as far as ‘I do’, and nothing further.

  Before he could stop her, Eleni was reaching out to take Amalia from Anna’s hands and he saw the brief flash of something pass across Anna’s eyes, but Eleni was so focused on their child she missed it. Assuring himself once more that Anna would be just fine, he extricated himself from the situation and went in search of Agapetos Kyriakou, his father.

  Swift, powerful steps took him back into the house that held such painful memories. He’d been putting off this confrontation for as long as
possible, but now...it couldn’t be avoided. He wasn’t surprised to find his father in the study, but he was surprised to hear his lawyer David’s clipped British accent coming from the speaker phone.

  ‘I refuse to discuss this without my client present.’

  ‘I’m here,’ Dimitri ground out, stepping into the room, clearly surprising the two men attempting to go behind his back. ‘What is going on?’

  His father at least had the grace to look discomfited, which was about as far as Agapetos had ever managed in his presence. Nikos, his father’s lawyer, launched into a fast-paced litany of Dimitri’s errors, but he interrupted.

  ‘English, please. David doesn’t speak Greek.’

  ‘And that is your fault for hiring an English lawyer,’ Nikos bit back in English, his father staying silent for once.

  ‘What did he say?’ David asked through the phone’s speaker.

  ‘Nikos was calling me seven shades of a fool for not having a DNA test done before bringing Anna and Amalia here,’ Dimitri explained, the fury he felt making his tone harsh. ‘I will make this clear once and for all. I would never allow my child to grow up knowing that her place with me was determined only by a positive test. Or growing up thinking that she’s only worth her DNA.’

  ‘Then you are a fool,’ stated Nikos.

  ‘She is my daughter. I know it. And, as her father, it’s my job to protect her from pain. Whether financial or emotional.’

  Nikos looked as if he was about to reply, when his father cut him off.

  ‘If my son says that she is his, then she is his.’

  It was as if a bucket of ice-cold water had been thrown over him. The hairs rose on his arms, and breath locked in his lungs. Never, ever had his father shown such confidence in him before. He stared at Agapetos, though the older man refused to meet his gaze, whether from discomfort at the emotional statement, or... Dimitri didn’t know what else it could have been. His entire life he’d been waiting, hoping for a sign of kindness, affection, even just support from his father, and it happened now? Did he feel guilty over Manos’s actions?

  ‘Leave us,’ Agapetos ordered his lawyer. There was a brief battle of wills, but eventually Nikos left the room, leaving him alone with his father. Feeling as if the ground had shifted beneath him, Dimitri waited.

  ‘You will marry her?’

  ‘I’m doing everything in my power to ensure that happens.’

  ‘Good. That is good.’

  Dimitri frowned. He’d expected his father to say the words Nikos had uttered, not this. Not his desire to see him married with a child.

  ‘I’d...’ His father took a deep breath and pressed on. ‘I’d like to see this as a new beginning. A fresh start...for all of us. Anna and Amalia included. I’m not saying it will be easy, but I’d like to try.’

  Dimitri could only nod, as his father swept an arm over his shoulder the way he had seen him do with Manos time and time again.

  ‘Then I’d like, very much, to see my granddaughter.’

  * * *

  Anna watched the two men leave the room from the shadowed enclave beside the study. She had gone in search of Dimitri after feeling his absence too long and had paused the moment she’d heard David’s voice on the phone asking what was being said.

  She had listened, her heart in her mouth at Dimitri’s simple words, his resolute defiance of the man he called Nikos... They had struck her as something incredible. There was so much loaded into Dimitri’s response, Anna struggled to unpick it. His love for his child and the trust he had in her, trust that she had taken for granted. He’d asked her only once if Amalia was his daughter. That was all it had taken.

  She wanted that for Amalia. A father who would care for her, protect her, stand up for her. Again, the bittersweet slice of pain each time Dimitri said or did something good reminded her of the lack that she had grown up with. She knew how easy it was for a father to turn away from his child, to fail in that one duty, even to replace that child with another family...

  As Dimitri’s wife, that wouldn’t happen. As Dimitri’s wife, she would be ensuring that her daughter was protected, cared for and loved even. She might not be able to expect those things for herself, but she would secure them for her daughter. What she would, however, secure for herself was protection. For her heart.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Dear Dimitri,

  Today I made a deal with the devil.

  DIMITRI PACED THE length of the patio, moonlight his only companion as Anna settled their daughter in her bedroom. He knew that she had something on her mind, having been quiet the entire journey back from his father’s house. And that suited him fine. He was still reeling from his father’s behaviour. He had cooed over his grandchild in a way Dimitri never imagined Agapetos had done with either him or Manos. Was it possible that they could have the fresh start his father had promised? Could he forgive the hurts of the past? Could he push away the difficult memories and feelings that he associated with his father, his childhood?

  Anna came out onto the patio and hovered behind a seat at the large handcrafted table he’d bought from one of the local tradesmen. He watched as she ran her fingers over the fine grain of the wood, the moonlight glinting off the slight curls in her long, dark hair.

  ‘I...’ She paused, seeming to struggle over what she had to say. She pressed on again. ‘I will marry you.’

  It was not what he’d expected. In fact, he had returned to the house, ready to counter her objection to marrying him with more threats and more anger. So it took Dimitri a moment to catch up with the elation that was coursing through his body.

  ‘But I have a few conditions.’

  This was a different Anna to the one who had sat in the small staff area of her B & B, the one who couldn’t meet his eyes. This Anna was the Anna he’d met that night three years before. Calm, assessing, in control. As if muscle memory moved within him, the taste of arousal pierced his tongue. She was glorious again. He wasn’t concerned about her conditions, but he would let her voice them. Negotiation was about give and take. But what she didn’t yet know was that Dimitri intended to take everything that he wanted.

  ‘We need to agree to stop all the games. All the blackmail.’

  ‘Nai—yes. This can be done.’

  ‘I’ll sign a prenup. Whatever you need. But I want to move forward from a place of equality. You have—’ she paused infinitesimally ‘—all the power. And that’s not okay. I am Amalia’s mother. If we marry, you will never have sole custody of my child.’

  ‘Understood. And agreed.’

  ‘If the current caretakers of the bed and breakfast prove themselves, and if they are happy to do so, they can continue in my absence until we hear what my mother would like to do with the business. Until then, Amalia and I will stay here in Greece.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘I want to be able to visit Ireland and spend time there each year.’

  ‘Absolutely. It’s important that all aspects of her heritage are available to her. I will have brochures of possible homes here by the morning.’

  ‘I want to learn Greek,’ she said, taking him by surprise. ‘I won’t be cut out from conversations between you and my daughter. This marriage will only work if we communicate openly.’

  ‘We will find someone right away.’ Why was she agreeing so suddenly? Where was the catch?

  ‘And...’ Was that a blush he could see paint her cheeks? ‘And I will not be sharing a bed with you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘This will be a marriage on paper, one with legal rights, but I will not share your bed.’

  ‘You expect me to live like a monk, and you a nun?’ he demanded, his body crying out to reject her preposterous stipulation.

  ‘I have very few expectations of you, Dimitri. I just don’t want to find out about it. The possibility of it is one thing, but knowing
it? I’d rather not.’

  That cut him deeply. He had never made claims of sainthood and certainly had his fair share of experience, but he would never treat his wife the way his father had treated either his stepmother or his own mother.

  ‘Hear me now, Anna. I would never disrespect my wife, or the mother of my child in that way. Ever.’ His words were binding, the promise ringing in his own ears. If Anna was taken aback by the vehemence in his tone, Dimitri didn’t see it. ‘But if you think this marriage will be left outside the bedroom, you are very much mistaken.’

  He wanted, so much, to go to her, to lean into the area of heat surrounding her body. To relish it. But he didn’t. He left the table between them, allowed her the space and clarity to fully understand his words. But despite the distance, desire was thick on the air around them and the little flare of the pulse at her neck told him all he needed to know.

  ‘I won’t sleep with you,’ she whispered, her voice trembling as she struggled to hide her attraction to him.

  ‘You would deny yourself the pleasure we shared? I still remember the cries of your ecstasy as you came apart in my arms. As you begged me for more. Deeper, harder, again and again. The way your eyes opened as I met every single one of your requests.’

  The way her eyes opened now, wide but unseeing, lost in the memory his words had conjured, her sharp inhale as her body swayed towards him. His own arousal was painfully hard, pressing against the material of his trousers, and the sight of her own desire, the way her nipples had hardened, peaked against the thin silk of her dress, was the only satisfaction he had at that moment.

  ‘Tell me, Anna... Do you remember?’

  She inwardly cursed as a shaky breath left her lungs, feeling it was as much an answer as he needed. Of course she remembered. His simple words had plunged her into an arousal that she felt in every single part of her body. The present clashed with the past as she felt his caress on her skin, relished the memory of him within her, filling her, completing her in a way she had never imagined. She felt now her skin flush, her erratic heartbeat flutter, even though he was still standing on the other side of the table. She hated that her body made a mockery of her words. Betraying her in the most fundamental way.