The humour in his voice, in his eyes, surprised her. Warmed her. Rhiannon found she was smiling back in wry apology. It felt good to smile. It eased the pain in her heart. ‘It’s not that …’ She could hardly explain the difference between the man before her and the man Leanne had described.
Her friend’s glowing phrases had been indications to Rhiannon of a player—a man who lived life full and hard, just as Leanne had. The descriptions of Lukas Petrakides in the press hadn’t matched up, but Rhiannon had been prepared to believe that the man with the sterling reputation had enjoyed one moment—well, one weekend—of weakness. Of pleasure.
She hadn’t blamed him for it. It had made him seem more human. More approachable.
‘She discovered she was pregnant several weeks later,’ she finished. ‘By that time she’d lost contact with you. She realised it had only been a weekend fling.’
‘Something she was used to, apparently?’
‘Don’t judge her!’ Rhiannon’s eyes flashed angry amber as she looked up at him. ‘You never knew her, and you don’t know what it’s like to live a life where no one cares what happens to you. Leanne had no one. No one,’ she emphasised. ‘She was just looking for a little love.’
‘And she found a little,’ Lukas agreed tersely. ‘Did she try to get in touch with the father?’
She shook her head. ‘No, she didn’t see the point. She was sad, of course, but pragmatic enough to realise that a man like—like you wouldn’t be interested in supporting her or her illegitimate child.’
‘Surely she could have used the money?’
Rhiannon shrugged. ‘She was proud, in her own way. It had been clear from the outset that it was a weekend fling. I suppose,’ she added slowly, ‘she didn’t want to be rejected by someone … again. At least this was on her own terms.’
Pity flickered across his face, shadowed his eyes. ‘A sad life,’ he said quietly, and Rhiannon nodded, her throat tight.
‘Yes.’
‘So Annabel’s own mother didn’t bother notifying the father of her child, but you did?’
Rhiannon met his gaze directly. ‘Yes.’
‘Why come all this way? Why not call?’
‘I tried. Your receptionist led me to believe you wouldn’t get my messages. And you didn’t, did you?’
Lukas shrugged. ‘I’m an important man, Miss Davies. I receive too many messages, solicitations.’
‘No doubt.’ She didn’t bother to hide the contempt in her voice. ‘Too important to consider your own daughter.’
‘She’s not mine.’
‘Then why are you here?’ Rhiannon demanded. ‘Why did you come back? Did you suddenly conveniently remember that you did go to Naxos after all?’
His eyes blazed silver—an electric look that sizzled between them so that Rhiannon took an involuntary step back.
‘I told you I did not lie.’
Rhiannon believed him. So why was he here? What did he want?
‘You took the chance,’ Lukas continued, ‘that I would want to know this child, and no doubt support it.’
‘I didn’t come here for money,’ Rhiannon snapped. ‘As I believe I’ve said before.’
‘Not blackmail money,’ Lukas replied, unfazed by her anger. ‘Maintenance. If this Annabel were indeed my child, you would certainly be within your rights to think that I would support her financially.’
Rhiannon was disconcerted by his flat, businesslike tone. Was it all about money to people like him? ‘That’s true,’ she agreed carefully. ‘But that isn’t why I came. If I’d just wanted money I would have filed a court order. I came because I believe children should know their parents. If there was any chance you might love your daughter—that you might want her …’ Her voice wavered dangerously and she gulped back the emotion that threatened to rise up in a tide of regret and sorrow. ‘I had to take that chance.’ She didn’t want to reveal so much to Lukas, to a man who regarded her as if she were a problem to be resolved, an annoyance to be dealt with.
Lukas stared at her, his eyes narrowed, yet filled with the cold light of comprehension. He looked as though he’d finally figured it out, and he scorned the knowledge.
‘You didn’t come for money,’ he said slowly, almost to himself. ‘You came for freedom.’
‘I told you—’
‘To give this baby away,’ he finished flatly, and every word was a condemnation, a judgement.
‘I want to do what’s best for Annabel!’ Rhiannon protested, her voice turning shrill. ‘Whatever that is.’
‘A convenient excuse,’ he dismissed.
Rhiannon clenched her fists, fury boiling through her. Yet mixed with it was guilt. There was a shred of truth in Lukas’s assessment. She had been prepared to give Annabel up … but only because it was the right thing to do.
It had to be.
‘There’s no need for this,’ she said in a steely voice. ‘So why don’t you just go? And so will I.’ She turned back to the sliding glass door.
‘No one is going anywhere.’
The command was barked out so harshly that Rhiannon stopped, stiffened from shock. ‘Excuse me?’
‘You will not go,’ Lukas told her shortly. ‘This matter has not been resolved.’
‘This matter,’ Rhiannon retorted, ‘has nothing to do with you!’
‘It has everything to do with me,’ he replied grimly, ‘since you have involved me in such a public way. You won’t leave until I’ve had some answers.’ He paused, reining in his temper with obvious effort. ‘Answers you’ve been looking for too, perhaps?’
Rhiannon glared at him, but she didn’t move. He was right, she knew. He was involved now, and that was her fault. She owed him a few more minutes of her time at least.
‘Why do you think your friend lied?’ he asked abruptly.
Rhiannon shrugged. ‘I don’t know. That’s why I didn’t think she had lied—she’d no reason. She was dying. I thought she’d want me to know Annabel’s father, even if she never intended for me to get in touch with him.’
‘She told you not to?’
‘No, she didn’t say anything about that. She just …’ She swallowed, forced herself to continue. ‘She just asked me to care for her. Love her.’ Her throat ached and she looked down.
‘A mother’s dying request?’
Rhiannon couldn’t tell if he was being snide or not. She gulped. ‘Yes.’ She looked up at him. ‘She had nothing to gain by lying. I honestly think she believed she was with Lukas Petrakides … with you.’
Lukas stiffened, his expression becoming like that of a predator that had scented danger. There was no fear, only awareness.
‘But we both know it wasn’t me.’ His mouth twisted wryly, but there was a hard edge of bitter realisation in his eyes. ‘So it had to have been someone else … someone who told her my name.’
Rhiannon shook her head in confusion. ‘Who would do that?’
Lukas muttered an expletive in Greek under his breath. ‘I should have considered it,’ he said, his face hardening into resolve. ‘He’s