Rhiannon checked herself. ‘Didn’t you?’
He shrugged. ‘Maybe I chose all the things myself, on the internet, and had them flown over.’
Was he teasing? A faint blush stole across her cheeks, rendered her speechless. The idea that Lukas himself had picked out the clothes, decided what she would like, what she would look good in, knew her size—it was so personal, so intimate … The thought burned her as much as his touches had.
He watched her with dark, knowing eyes—eyes that knew how discomfited she was, and perhaps enjoyed it.
He said nothing, merely took her firmly by the elbow, his hand dry and warm, and led her into the dining room.
Theo stood by his chair as they entered, stiff and straight, his shoulders thrown back, a haughty look hardening his features.
Rhiannon didn’t take it to heart. She knew it was not directed towards her, but was rather a defence against compassion or, worse, pity.
She smiled at the older man. He looked away.
The meal Adeia served was again delicious, and Rhiannon found she could almost relax. Theo said little, but Lukas kept up a flow of conversation about the islands, Athens, business. All fairly innocent, innocuous topics that made Rhiannon drop her guard for one treacherous moment.
Then a phone rang, trilled against Lukas’s chest, and he slipped a mobile from his breast pocket. ‘Excuse me … Hello?’ His face darkened and he stood, turning away from Rhiannon. He spoke in rapid Greek before covering the mouthpiece of the little phone and saying, ‘I need to take this privately. I beg your pardon.’
Rhiannon watched him go, her heart starting a slow, heavy thud.
Theo spoke what was already screaming through her own mind.
‘That will be Christos.’
‘Perhaps now,’ Rhiannon said, as steadily as she could, ‘we will get to the bottom of this.’
Theo’s eyes glittered, and he said the one word with effort. ‘Perhaps.’
The room was silent, heavy with tense expectation. Rhiannon couldn’t eat, couldn’t even pretend to pick at her food. Adeia cleared the plates and brought in the little cups of thick black coffee that burned down Rhiannon’s throat like acid.
Still Lukas did not come.
What was going on? What was being said?
And, most importantly, what was going to happen?
Theo watched her, his eyes bright. Rhiannon tried not to let his stare unnerve her, even though her throat was dry, and she felt as if she would choke on her own words.
Finally Lukas returned, his face blank. ‘Rhiannon, may I speak with you? In the study.’
‘You can say it here,’ Theo protested, his tone angry even though his words were halting. ‘Is Christos the father?’
‘I will speak to Rhiannon first. Excuse us, Papa.’
Woodenly Rhiannon followed him to a dark, wood-panelled room, with bookshelves lining all the walls except for a picture window that looked out directly onto a rocky outcropping, an unforgiving line of shore.
‘That was Christos on your phone, wasn’t it?’ she said into the silence. ‘Did he say …?’
‘Yes, he did.’ Lukas thrust his hands deep in his trouser pockets. ‘He admitted everything. Meeting Leanne, using my name, taking her to Naxos. He repeated the story you told me almost exactly, and I hadn’t even told him what you’d said.’
‘It’s not as if he would make it up,’ Rhiannon said, her voice sounding stilted, unnatural. Why did this hurt? she wondered. It was no more than either of them had expected.
‘I wouldn’t put anything past Christos. He was adamant, in fact, that he had used protection, but mistakes can happen.’
‘Annabel is not a mistake!’ Rhiannon looked up, a fierce golden light in her eyes. She realised she was trembling.
‘Not to you, perhaps,’ Lukas agreed. ‘But to Christos she is nothing more than that. As soon as possible I will begin adoption proceedings. Christos is delighted with the solution.’ His mouth tightened briefly, and Rhiannon had a flickering of perception that Christos was not the kind of person who expressed his delight. No doubt he’d expected Lukas to take care of his child … his bastard. Thought it was Lukas’s responsibility, as Lukas himself did.
‘Obviously such action will require help on your part. As Annabel’s current legal guardian, you will have to go through court to sign such rights over to me.’
Rhiannon stiffened. ‘I told you, I’m staying in her life. I’m not signing anything over.’
Lukas sighed. ‘Rhiannon, the last thing I want is a custody case. But Annabel is my great-niece—my blood relation.’
‘Blood is so important to you?’
‘Of course it is!’
Rhiannon shook her head, refusing to admit just how backed into a corner she was. ‘Christos hasn’t taken a paternity test yet—’
‘No, but it is a mere formality now. He will take one when he returns to Athens.’
‘Then we have a little time to work something out,’ Rhiannon said. She drew herself up, met his gaze full-on. ‘Because I don’t want a court case either, Lukas, but I’m not bowing out simply because you feel you have more rights. Leanne didn’t come to you when she thought you were the father. She came to me. That says something.’
‘Oh?’ Lukas was still—dangerously so. Rhiannon already knew what ran deep beneath those still waters. His eyes were a lethal silver, his expression like that of a predator right before it snapped open its jaws, devoured its prey. ‘What does it say to you?’
‘That Leanne trusted me to love Annabel.’
‘Yet you were going to give her away.’
She refused to be drawn. ‘I’ve already explained why I was prepared to do that—and, as I’ve said, things are different now. I’m staying.’
Lukas raised his eyebrows. ‘For ever?’
Rhiannon swallowed. For ever was a long time. Yet she could hardly walk away when Annabel was older and more attached to her. She could hardly walk away at all.
‘You haven’t thought this through, have you, Rhiannon?’ Lukas jeered softly. ‘You’re full of big ideas about loving Annabel, but you’re not quite sure how it works out in the details. The duties.’
‘I …’
‘Because if you want to be her mother, if you want to love her, then you have to stay. You’ll have to make your home in Greece. You’ll have to live in the Petrakides pocket. You’ll have to—’ he finished with heavy emphasis ‘—become my responsibility … if I’m prepared to accept it.’
Rhiannon’s mouth opened, and after a moment of silent struggling she finally choked out, ‘I will never, ever, be someone’s responsibility again.’
‘It’s not your choice.’
‘It is my choice,’ she countered fiercely. ‘And just because you have an overdeveloped sense of what you’re required to do in life it doesn’t mean I have to fall neatly in with those plans! I’ll stay in Annabel’s life, but on my own terms, and not in “the Petrakides pocket”, as you so snidely put it! I will provide for myself, live by myself, be completely independent …’ She trailed off, running out of self-righteous steam at his look of blatant disbelief.
‘That,’ he said with quiet, final derision, ‘is not going to happen. Do you actually think