‘Can’t we just…take it one day at a time?’
‘Let me make this clear,’ he said, leaning forward, his expression that of a hard-nosed tycoon.
She swallowed, but refused to be cowed by his closeness, by his look of steel. ‘Yes?’
‘One week from today we will be married. You will be my wife: Mrs Hannah Stathakis. You will be marrying someone who is worth over a hundred billion American dollars. Your life, as you know it, is about to cease completely. There is no “taking it one day at a time”. In what? Three months? Four? We will have a child. That is the deadline hanging over our heads. Within four months, we need to be able to find a way to relate, to exist as parents. We cannot delay. Surely you see that?’
It was all so shocking, so impossible to comprehend and also so reasonable. She heard his words and closed her eyes, because the final sentence was what really got through to her.
His net worth was awe-inspiring, his suggestion that she too might be worth a fortune, even his reminder that their daughter would inherit such a sum, were all details that caused her heart to pound, and not necessarily in a good way. But what he’d said that had really spoken to Hannah had been right at the end.
They had a deadline. A tiny little time bomb ticking away inside her belly.
They needed to find a way to make this work and he was showing himself to be cognisant of that.
‘Your full name is Hannah May?’
‘Hannah Grace May.’ She nodded, tightening her seat belt and looking out of the window on autopilot. Capri was tiny beneath them, just a beautiful picture-book piece of land, looming from the sea, all verdant green against the deep blue of the Med, the superyachts tiny white shapes now, clean and crisp.
Was it really only that morning she’d flown in over Italy, and stared down at this exact same view? How certain she’d been then of being able to tell Leonidas she was pregnant and then depart, confident he’d accept her suggestion of being a small but vital part of their daughter’s life.
‘Birth date?’
She responded, thinking back to her last birthday, right before Christmas. Angus had thrown her a surprise dinner party and she’d pretended to be thrilled, but Hannah hated surprises, and she’d wondered how he couldn’t know that about her. She’d wondered how he could think she’d like being the centre of attention like that, with everyone in the restaurant staring at her, waiting for her to smile and make a little speech thanking them for coming.
Hannah didn’t like surprises but she’d chalked the party up to something they’d laugh about in ten years’ time. Besides, he’d gone to a huge amount of effort, she wasn’t about to be ungrateful in the face of that.
She’d had no idea, though, that a way bigger surprise had been in store for her, nor that his ‘effort’ in arranging such an elaborate party was undoubtedly his way of compensating for the fact he was sleeping with Hannah’s cousin behind her back.
Her jaw tightened, and unconsciously she gripped her hands tightly in her lap, the past rushing towards her, wrapping around her, forcing her to look at it, to be in it even when it was strangling her. To remember the sight of her cousin and her fiancé, their limbs entwined, the dark black sheets of Angus’s bed in stark contrast to their flesh, Michelle’s white-blonde hair glistening in the evening light.
It was a betrayal on two fronts. That her fiancé would cheat on her was bad enough, but with someone she’d been raised to think of as a sister?
Indignation and hurt made her breath burn a little.
Capri swam beneath her, ancient and striking, and it offered a hint of perspective. How many millions of people had walked those shores, swum in these seas, each of them with their own problems and concerns, none of those concerns mattering, really, in the huge scheme of life and this earth? One day, she’d forget the sting of this betrayal, the second loss of family she’d had to endure.
‘Parents’ names?’
She swept her eyes shut, thinking of her biological parents, seeing her mother’s smile as she tucked Hannah into bed, stroking her hair, singing their goodnight song.
‘Ellie—Eleanor—and Brad.’
There were more questions and she answered them matter-of-factly—it was easier to simply provide the information than to launch into explanations with each point.
‘Why did your engagement end?’
That question had her swivelling her head to him, and she was grateful that a flight attendant chose that exact moment to enter the cabin, offering drinks.
‘Just water,’ Hannah murmured.
‘Coffee.’ He focussed on Hannah. ‘Are you hungry?’
She was. ‘A little.’
‘And some dinner.’
‘Yes, sir.’
The attendant left, and Hannah thought—for a moment—Leonidas might have forgotten the question he’d posed. But of course he hadn’t. This man probably never forgot a thing. ‘Your fiancé?’
‘Right.’ She was surprised at how well she’d kept her voice neutral.
‘He cheated on me.’ She shrugged as though it didn’t matter. ‘It kind of killed my interest in marrying him.’
‘I can imagine it would.’ He was watching her as though she were a puzzle he could put back together if only he had enough time. ‘You hadn’t slept with him. His idea, or yours?’
‘His.’
His expression showed surprise. ‘Why?’
The flight attendant reappeared with drinks, placing them down on the armrest table each had in their seat and leaving again.
‘Romance.’
Leonidas lifted a brow. ‘You think sex isn’t romantic?’
Heat exploded through her body and she clamped her knees close together to stop them from shaking. Sex with Leonidas had gone beyond romance. It had been passion and fire, everything she could imagine wanting from a lover.
‘I wouldn’t know.’ She dipped her eyes lower, studying the carpet on the floor of the aeroplane as though it were a fascinating work of art.
‘So how come you were a virgin?’ he pushed.
Hannah lifted her gaze, forcing herself to meet his curious eyes. ‘We decided we’d wait.’
‘There was no one before him?’
She bit down on her lip, shaking her head from side to side. ‘Is that so unusual?’
His expression showed cynicism and disbelief. ‘In my experience, yes.’
She laughed then, shaking her head a little. ‘Stop looking at me like that.’
‘Like what?’
‘As though I’m some kind of… I don’t know. As though I’m an alien.’
‘Your inexperience is rare, that’s all,’ he corrected. ‘Particularly given the fact you were engaged.’
‘Angus and I…’ She swallowed, the bitterness impossible to completely suppress. ‘We were friends for a long time. The dating thing came out of nowhere and I guess our relationship didn’t completely transition. Sex wasn’t a drawcard for me. I guess it wasn’t for him, either.’
‘You did not desire him?’
Ridiculously, Hannah felt a buzz of disloyalty at admitting as much. ‘Not really. We weren’t about that.’
‘What