Absently, Philip pulled his towel off and dropped it on the thick plush carpet. Her continued insistence that Creon was the boy’s father annoyed him, but didn’t really surprise him. Having come this far, she would hardly be likely to change her story simply because he told her he knew that she was lying. She was probably thinking that she would have better luck at convincing a lonely old man that the boy was his grandson.
Philip shoved his fingers through his damp hair in frustration. He knew she was lying. She had to be. Creon couldn’t have had an affair with another woman because Lydia would have said something about it. She would have asked his advice about what to do, and she hadn’t. She’d never said a word against Creon.
He paused as he suddenly realized something. Lydia had never discussed Creon with him. She mentioned Jason occasionally, and she was always talking about her daughters, but he couldn’t ever remember her saying anything about Creon. A trickle of unease oozed through him. Was there some significance to her silence?
He didn’t know, and there was no way he could ask her without revealing what he was trying to hide. And he couldn’t risk that. Lydia had always been the most sensitive of his sisters. The most vulnerable. Creon’s death had hit her very hard. She’d lost weight she couldn’t afford to lose, and her always reserved personality had become almost withdrawn. If she were to find out that a beautiful woman had suddenly appeared, claiming to have had Creon’s son, it could push her so deeply into her shell she might never be able to climb out. A feeling of desperation gripped him.
He had to protect Lydia. But could he? For the moment, Ginny Alton was willing to go along with the charade that the boy was his, but how long her cooperation would last was anyone’s guess.
Philip dressed as he considered his limited options. He needed a lever to use against her, but what? Maybe the fact that Creon hadn’t been seeing her while he’d been in New York? It wasn’t much, but if he could find out how Creon had spent his time when he’d been in New York last year, perhaps it would convince Ginny that her claim wouldn’t stand up to an investigation.
Philip picked up the phone and dialed the number of his company’s New York office. His manager wouldn’t be there at this time of night, but he could leave a message on Essing’s voice mail telling him what he wanted him to do. With luck he’d have a report by tomorrow.
In the meantime, he’d simply have to keep as close to Ginny as he could to make sure she didn’t do or say anything to upset Lydia. He’d stay very close. Philip felt a surge of anticipation that made him vaguely uneasy. Since he couldn’t explain it, he ignored it and went to his study to go over the latest developments in the labor problems at one of his Athens’ factories.
The following day dawned clear and sunny, unlike Ginny’s mood. To her dismay, even though she was now well rested, her first view of Philip over the breakfast table was enough to convince her that a good night’s sleep hadn’t changed anything. He still had a very unsettling effect on her central nervous system. Even the fact that he was casually dressed in tan slacks and a powder blue knit shirt didn’t help.
Sitting down across from Philip, she gave Damon his bottle. That meant that the only thing she could do was to simply wait her compulsion out.
“Don’t you ever feed the boy any real food?”
Ginny looked up to see Philip frowning at Damon’s bottle.
“Damon. His name is Damon. And this is real food if you happen to be four months old.”
“He needs solid food,” Philip insisted. “Some cereal like this.” He held up a spoonful of the oatmeal he was eating.
Ginny fixed him with the gimlet stare she used on irrational clients who wanted to plunge into the stock market with no plan of action. “He has already shown signs of some nasty allergies, so if you even come near him with that stuff, I’ll...”
Philip looked at her ferocious expression and was hard-pressed not to laugh. She looked like an angry lioness about to defend her lone cub from mortal danger. A flicker of tenderness unexpectedly curled through him. She really was a good mother. It was too bad she hadn’t been as careful about who she went to bed with. Her lover couldn’t have been much of a man to have gotten her pregnant and then deserted her.
“You’ll what?” he asked curiously, when she didn’t finish her sentence.
“You’ll see.” Ginny promised darkly, having no idea what kind of threat might work on him. Probably none, she conceded. Philip Lysander appeared to be a man who was used to having his every whim catered to. Much as Creon had been.
To her surprise, his lips suddenly tightened. “If you repeat one word of your lies about Creon to Lydia, I’ll make you rue the day you were born.”
“And here I was afraid to descend to clichés,” she scoffed.
“I mean it! As far as Lydia is concerned, the boy is mine.” His voice was cold enough to freeze water.
What would it be like to have someone love you so much that they would be willing to go to such extremes to protect your peace of mind? Ginny wondered. The men she’d dated over the years had all treated her as the competent professional she was. They had respected her enough to allow her to solve her own problems. Which was what she wanted, she assured herself. She was strong enough to fight her own battles. She glanced down at Damon who was devouring his breakfast.
“I’ll be in the study making a few phone calls,” Philip said coldly as he got up from the table. “As soon as the boy is finished, we’ll leave for Jason’s.”
Ginny watched until he disappeared into his study. “I wonder what his blood pressure is?” she murmured to Damon. “At least, he doesn’t hold anything in.”
Would he make love with the same intensity? It didn’t matter how he made love. She throttled her curiosity. Philip Lysander’s love life had nothing to do with her. Determinedly, Ginny focused her attention on Damon, trying to use her love for him to drive out her fascination with Philip. It was a dismal failure.
The trip from Athens to Glifadha took an hour and a half. An interminable hour and a half. Between her agitation at being cooped up in a closed car with Philip, her nervousness over the upcoming interview with Jason Papas and the fact that Damon cried for most of the trip, Ginny was a bundle of nerves by the time Philip pulled up in front of Jason’s rambling white villa.
Ginny quickly climbed out of the car, unbuckled Damon from his car seat and cradled his hot, sweaty little body against her shoulder.
“Come on.” Philip grabbed her arm and hurried her inside.
Ginny quietly followed him through the huge house because she wasn’t sure that he’d let go of her, and she didn’t want to get into an undignified scuffle with Philip under Jason Papas’s nose.
Philip finally stopped in the open doorway of a large study.
“Is that the child?”
Ginny looked in the direction of the harsh voice to find a gaunt old man, who had to be Jason Papas, standing by the window eyeing her with distaste. Unconsciously, her chin lifted, and she stared back at him with equal distaste. If Jason hadn’t raised Creon to believe that he had a right to take what he wanted from whomever he wanted it, then poor Beth would never have been put in this situation.
“Yes,” Philip answered when Ginny remained silent.
“Bring him here,” Jason ordered Ginny.
Ginny walked to within a few feet of Jason and shifted Damon slightly so that his face was no longer hidden against her neck. She watched as Jason inched closer to the child as if drawn against his will. It was impossible for her to tell what the old man thought because other than the glitter in his eyes, which could have been anything from anger to happiness, his features were blank.
Unfortunately, Damon was not so reticent