‘That will be all, Miriam,’ he said.
Well, she didn’t sound like a girlfriend. ‘Is that your secretary?’ asked Rebecca hopefully when the other woman had closed the door behind her.
‘She’s another architect, actually,’ drawled Xandros, noticing her flinch at the unmistakably caustic note in his voice—but what did she expect? He had no idea why she was here today—whether it was all part of some sophisticated game-plan. Was that why she had jumped in and ended the relationship before he’d had a chance to do so? As a kind of emotional one-upmanship—a clumsy effort to try to make him commit to her? But if so, it had backfired spectacularly—and she was just about to find that out.
She had made him feel … what? Trapped and irritated by her growing neediness and her desire to want to read all the secrets of his heart? Yet along with that he had felt oddly out of control, too. Hadn’t it been a relief to be free of her strange, sensual power—even if he had found himself sometimes missing the passion of her embrace? Hadn’t he terminated his contract with the airline because he had no wish for repeated contact with her or the temptation of her continuing allure? Those violet eyes and the silky hair like dark honey, which had trickled through his fingers so sweetly.
‘Won’t you sit down?’
‘Thank you.’ Despite the food she’d taken from the mini-bar Rebecca’s knees were trembling and she sank into a leather chair with relief.
‘You would like a drink? Some water, perhaps?’
She shook her head, feeling as if she were on a job interview—praying that her composure would not leave her at a time when she had never needed it more badly. ‘No, thank you.’
Xandros stared at her, waiting for some kind of explanation for her appearance, but she had bent her head and was studying her clasped fingers intently—as if they were about to reveal something fascinating. And suddenly he was irritated. What the hell was she doing here? ‘So?’
Rebecca looked up, braving herself to meet the expression on his face. How best to say it? The carefully chosen words she had been silently rehearsing on the way over suddenly seemed as inadequate as someone trying to staunch the flow of a burst dam using their finger. There is no ‘good’ way to say this, Rebecca—so just say it.
‘I’m pregnant, Xandros.’
He didn’t move, or react—grateful, if such a word could be used at such a time, for the enigmatic exterior which had never let him down.
Rebecca’s voice wasn’t quite steady as she searched his face. ‘Did you hear me, Xandros? I said—’
‘Ne, I heard you.’ Inexplicably, he found himself thinking of Notus—the great south wind of Greece which brought with it the storms of summer and autumn—and what greater storm than this to have exploded in his life? A baby—by a woman who meant nothing to him? Yet still his face gave nothing away. Meeting her violet-blue eyes with nothing but stony question, he said: ‘Are you certain?’
For one moment she wondered if she should draw his attention to the slight swelling of her belly until she remembered that she had come here because she had felt it was the right thing to do. She was not going to be made to feel the guilty party. He might not have planned this, but neither had she.
‘Yes, I’m certain. I did a test and now the doctor has confirmed that they …’ As his head jerked up she swallowed. ‘Yes, they,’ she whispered, meeting the blazing question in his black eyes. ‘It’s twins. I’m expecting twins, Xandros. Around the middle of January,’ she finished hoarsely.
Twins. The word dropped into his consciousness like a stone falling into water from a great height and Xandros experienced a sensation of anger and pain so strong that it momentarily took his breath away.
Twins.
Hot, unwanted emotions washed over him—trying to take him back to a childhood he had buried and forgotten. A mother who had left him. A father who had never been there. A brother to whom he was joined for ever—whether he liked it or not. A brother he had fought with. Two men who had allowed time to deepen the rift between them.
Xandros scowled, recognising that in a way this was Rebecca’s salvation—nature cleverly ensuring that he wouldn’t question her about the paternity of her unborn. Yet for some reason that question had simply not occurred to him. Because her very neediness during their time together had convinced him that she would not have taken another lover—despite his occasional streak of jealousy? Or just his natural arrogance assuring him that it would be a long time before she would allow another man to touch her as he had touched her?
But the image disturbed him.
Twins.
He stared at her. ‘You are quite sure of this?’
Did he think she was testing him out? Telling herself that it was shock which was making him snap the question out like an interrogator, Rebecca nodded.
‘Yes. Testing procedures are very sophisticated these days. They can do a check between nine and—’
‘That’s enough!’ He silenced her with an automatic raise of his hand, the imperious gesture telling her that he was simply not interested in the detail. That he needed time to think.
Xandros walked over to one of the large windows where the radiance of countless lights illuminated the night sky of New York, his adopted city. During the day, he sometimes went along the corridor to a smaller office where the light was soft and muted—because sometimes he found the urban magnificence of the skyline all too distracting, especially when he was working. But for now he welcomed the distraction from this momentous piece of news.
What the hell did a man do in a situation like this?
Eventually, he turned around. She hadn’t moved and her frame looked curiously fragile within the soft, tooled leather of the chair. Her amazing hair was tied back with a simple piece of ribbon and he thought that she certainly hadn’t gone to town on an outfit designed to impress him. He saw the goose-bumps on her slender arms and supposed that she wasn’t really used to the air-conditioning.
‘Say something!’ said Rebecca urgently, because she could bear his brooding silence no longer.
‘What do you want me to say, agape mou? That we will all live happily ever after and that I will marry you?’ He gave a short, bitter laugh. ‘Because I have no intention of doing that.’
It hurt, of course it did—she would have had to have been made of wood for it not to have done—but she didn’t react. One thing Rebecca had told herself was that no matter what he threw at her, no matter what the provocation—there was no way she was going to storm out of here.
They would deal with this like adults—or rather she would. So she kept her face as calm as possible instead giving into the temptation of saying: I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on earth! She even managed a shake of her head and a bland smile. After all, she supposed that he could have denied paternity—and surely that would have been far more insulting than him refusing to marry her?
‘Marriage? Good heavens, no. That’s not why I’m here,’ she said calmly.
‘Really?’ Ebony brows were elevated in thinly veiled disbelief. ‘Then why are you here?’
‘Strange as it may seem, Xandros, it gives me no pleasure to fly all the way over when I’m feeling slightly queasy and then be met with insult and accusation. I’m here because—as the father—I feel you have a right to know about it.’
For the first time he reacted outwardly, swearing softly and emphatically in his native tongue and it was her use of the word father which provoked it—because