He frowned. ‘Why don’t you sit down in that chair? You don’t look very comfortable standing there and you really should be comfortable, because we need to talk.’
Her chin jutted forward but she didn’t defy him, though he noticed that she stared straight ahead as she made her way towards a battered armchair. Yet despite her unwashed hair and sloppy grey sweat-pants, Ariston couldn’t help his body from reacting as she walked past him. He could feel the tautness and the tension hardening his muscles and the instinctive tightening low in his abdomen. What was it about her which made him want to impale her whenever she came near?
She sank down onto the chair and lifted up her face to his. ‘So talk,’ she said.
He nodded, sliding his hands into the pockets of his trousers as he looked at her. ‘I don’t imagine you wanted to be a mother,’ he began.
She shrugged. ‘Not yet, no.’
‘So how about I free you of that burden?’
She must have misunderstood him because her arms instantly clamped themselves around her belly as if she was shielding her unborn child and suddenly she was yelling at him. ‘If you’re suggesting—’
‘What I’m suggesting,’ he interrupted, ‘is that I have you moved from this miniature hell-hole into a luxury apartment of your choice. That you are attended by the finest physicians in the land, who will monitor your pregnancy and make sure that you both maintain tip-top health. And after the birth…’
‘After the birth…what?’ she said, her voice dropping to a whisper, as if she’d suddenly got an inkling of what he was about to say.
‘You give up your baby.’ He gave a cold smile. ‘Or rather, you give it to me.’
There was a pause. ‘Could you…could you repeat that?’ she said faintly. ‘Just so I can be sure I haven’t misunderstood your meaning.’
‘I will raise the child,’ he said. ‘And you can name your price.’
She didn’t speak for a moment and he was taken aback by the naked fury which blazed from her green eyes as she scrambled to her feet. For a minute he thought she was about to hurl herself across the room and attack him and wasn’t there a part of him which wanted her to go right ahead? Because a fighting woman was a woman who could be subdued in all kinds of ways and suddenly he found himself wanting to kiss her again. But she didn’t. She stood there, her hands on her hips, her breath coming quick and fast.
‘You’re offering to buy my baby?’
‘That’s a rather melodramatic way of putting it, Keeley. Think of it as a transaction—the most reasonable course of action in the circumstances.’
‘Are you out of your mind?’
‘I’m giving you the opportunity to make a fresh start.’
‘Without my baby?’
‘A baby will tie you down. I can give this child everything it needs,’ he said, deliberately allowing his gaze to drift around the dingy little room. ‘You cannot.’
‘Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, Ariston,’ she said, her hands clenching. ‘You might have all the houses and yachts and servants in the world, but you have a great big hole where your heart should be. You’re a cold and unfeeling brute who would deny your baby his mother—and therefore you’re incapable of giving this child the thing it needs more than anything else!’
‘Which is?’
‘Love!’
Ariston felt his body stiffen. He loved his brother and once he’d loved his mother, but he was aware of his limitations. No, he didn’t do the big showy emotion he suspected she was talking about and why should he, when he knew the brutal heartache it could cause? Yet something told him that trying to defend his own position was pointless. She would fight for this child, he realised. She would fight with all the strength she possessed, and that was going to complicate things. Did she imagine he was going to accept what she’d just told him and play no part in it? Politely dole out payments and have sporadic weekend meetings with his own flesh and blood? Or worse, no meetings at all. He met the green blaze of her eyes.
‘So you won’t give this baby up and neither will I,’ he said softly. ‘Which means that the only solution is for me to marry you.’
He saw the shock and horror on her face.
‘But I don’t want to marry you! It wouldn’t work, Ariston—on so many levels. You must realise that. Me, as the wife of an autocratic control freak who doesn’t even like me? I don’t think so.’
‘It wasn’t a question,’ he said silkily. ‘It was a statement. It’s not a case of if you will marry me, Keeley—just when.’
‘You’re mad,’ she breathed.
He shook his head. ‘Just determined to get what is rightfully mine. So why not consider what I’ve said, and sleep on it and I’ll return tomorrow at noon for your answer—when you’ve calmed down. But I’m warning you now, Keeley—that if you are wilful enough to try to refuse me, or if you make some foolish attempt to run away and escape…’ he paused and looked straight into her eyes ‘… I will find you and drag you through every court in the land to get what is rightfully mine.’
AS SHE PREPARED for Ariston’s visit next morning, Keeley stared at her white-faced reflection in the mirror and gritted her teeth. This time she wouldn’t lose her temper. She would be calm and clear and focussed. She would tell him she couldn’t possibly marry him but that she was willing to be reasonable.
She washed her hair and put on a loose cotton dress and a sudden desire to impose some order made her give her bedsit an extra-special clean—busying herself with mop and duster. She even went down to the local market and bought a cheap bunch of flowers from the friendly stallholder who implored her to, ‘Cheer up, love! It might never happen!’
It already had, she thought gloomily as she crammed the spindly pink tulips into a vase as she waited for the Greek tycoon to arrive.
He was bang on time and she hated her instinctive reaction when she opened the door to see him in an exquisite pale grey suit, which today didn’t make him look remotely uncomfortable. In fact, he came over as supremely relaxed as well as looking expensive and hopelessly out of place in her crummy little home. She didn’t want to shiver with awareness whenever she looked at him, nor remember how it had felt to be naked in his arms, yet the erotic images just kept flooding back. Was she imagining the faint triumph which curved those cruel lips of his—as if he was perfectly aware of the way he made her feel? He can’t make you do anything you don’t want him to, she reminded herself fiercely. You might be carrying his baby but you are still a free agent. This is modern England, not the Middle Ages. He can hardly drag you up the aisle against your will.
‘I’m hoping you’ve had time to come to your senses, Keeley,’ he said, without preamble. ‘Have you?’
‘I’ve given it a lot of thought, yes—but I’m afraid I haven’t changed my mind. I won’t marry you, Ariston.’
He said something soft in his native tongue and when he looked at her, he seemed almost regretful as he sighed. ‘I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.’
‘Come to what?’ she questioned in confusion.
‘Why didn’t you tell me about your mother?’
She felt the blood drain from her face. ‘Wh-what about my mother?’
His gaze slid over her.