An Heir Claimed By Christmas (Mills & Boon Modern) (A Billion-Dollar Singapore Christmas, Book 1)

by Clare Connelly

  ‘None of this is good enough,’ she agreed with quiet insistence. ‘But it’s the card we’ve been dealt.’

  He held her gaze for several beats. ‘I’ve organised a town-hall wedding. It’s better if we marry quietly, then deal with the fall-out and the press later.’

  Annie had the strangest sensation that she was speaking a foreign language.

  ‘The...fall-out? Press? I’m not marrying you.’ She paused after each word in the last sentence for emphasis, and because she couldn’t wrap her tongue around the sounds properly.

  ‘If you would like to have a bigger wedding, we can arrange that in due course. I’ll leave those arrangements up to you. As for your life in Singapore, are you working at the moment?’

  She stared at him, a frown drawing her brows together, forming a crease between them. It was all so absurd that she found herself answering anyway. ‘I—Yes. I have a job.’

  ‘What do you do?’

  Her frown deepened. ‘I load properties on to real-estate websites. I work for several agencies.’ She bit down on her lip. ‘It’s something I can do from home, so when Max was little it made a lot of sense. Now he’s at school, but with the holidays and the short days, and the possibility he might be sick and I need time off, the job still suits me.’

  Dimitrios’s expression was inscrutable. ‘What happened to university?’

  A wave of nostalgia passed through her. Not sadness, exactly, because she could never be sad about Max’s arrival, even when it had signalled the end of so many of her dreams. No, it was nostalgia for the young woman she’d once been.

  ‘Max happened,’ she reminded him. ‘I couldn’t exactly have a baby and complete a law degree.’

  He leaned forward, interlocking his fingers and placing his hands between them. ‘You were accepted on to a top course, if I remember...’

  She wouldn’t allow herself to feel even a hint of warmth at his recollection. Dimitrios was a details man. He’d filed the titbit of biographical information for no reason other than it was what he did.

  ‘It wasn’t feasible.’

  ‘Your parents?’

  ‘They moved to Perth.’

  His brow lifted. ‘When?’

  ‘After Lewis died.’ She swallowed hard, the pain of that still difficult to process. Annie had learned then that nothing was stable, or permanent. She’d lost her brother and to all intents and purposes her parents in the space of a few months. Life was a rollercoaster with zero guarantees. ‘Mum found it too hard to stay here. Everywhere reminded her of him. She needed a fresh start.’

  ‘You were only eighteen, and you were pregnant. Why didn’t you go with them?’

  ‘We never had a great relationship.’ She was uncertain why she was confiding in him. ‘They weren’t awful to us or anything when Lewis and I were growing up, but they fought a lot, and it was tense. I think Mum wanted everything to be different for me. Finding out I’d got pregnant and planned to raise a baby on my own, that I’d never go to university and my future was “over”—as she said—made her furious. She wanted me to put Max up for adoption.’

  Dimitrios’s face was like a thundercloud. ‘You’re not serious? Rather than offer to help you?’

  Annie shrugged. ‘It was a no-brainer. They moved to Perth, I stayed here and had Max. Over time, they’ve mellowed. They love him. I tolerate them for that reason alone.’

  Her smile was bittersweet. ‘Besides, everything reminded me of Lewis here too. Unlike Mum, I didn’t want to run from those memories. Sometimes I find myself going past his old place, just letting that wash over me—how happy he was the day he moved in, how much he loved his life.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘I didn’t feel like I could leave that—him. Sydney is a connection to him. I suppose that sounds silly.’

  Dimitrios’s voice was husky when he spoke. ‘Not at all. I get it.’

  ‘Do you?’

  He nodded once and something dangerous passed between them because it was so reminiscent of their shared grief—a guttural, exhaustive sadness that had drawn them together that night. She looked away, focussing on the wall opposite. Scuff marks she’d become used to now seemed so much darker and worse. Embarrassment filled her but she refused to surrender to it.

  His tone softened, sympathy obvious. ‘I have an apartment here. We can travel back often. I don’t intend to uproot you from your life completely.’

  She shook her head. ‘You’re not hearing me. Marriage isn’t the solution here.’

  He didn’t answer that.

  ‘Why did you call him Max?’

  Annie’s cheeks burned pink. The sentimentality filled her with shame. She wouldn’t tell him the truth—it was too much of a concession, and she wasn’t ready to give him so much. Admitting that she’d researched his family tree and chosen his grandfather’s name somehow made her feel vulnerable, like the silly eighteen-year-old she’d been, the one who’d cared too much. ‘I heard the name and liked it,’ she said simply.

  ‘I like it too.’

  Silence fell, thick with feeling.

  ‘You can come back to Sydney any time you’d like,’ he said with a gentleness that threatened to bring tears to her eyes. ‘I understand how this city holds a connection to Lewis for you.’ He paused. ‘It does for me too.’

  Their eyes met and something like mutual understanding weaved from him to her, binding them in an inexplicable way, just as it had that night.

  ‘Max can still come and see his friends. But, for the most part, your lives will be in Singapore. There’s an international school he can attend—it’s very good.’

  But Annie was shaking her head again, refusing to succumb to the image he was painting. ‘What part of “no” don’t you understand? I can’t marry you.’

  ‘Why not?’

  The question surprised her, her inability to answer even more so. She searched for something that made sense, something that would satisfy him, and drew a blank.

  ‘Because’ or ‘I just can’t’ didn’t feel sufficient.

  ‘What? Do you have a lover? A boyfriend?’

  Her cheeks flamed. No way would Annie confess the mortifying truth to Dimitrios—that she’d been alone since that one night they’d shared, seven years earlier!

  ‘Marriage just...isn’t something you decide to do on the spur of the moment.’

  ‘Even when a child is involved?’ he prompted, gently cajoling.

  ‘Especially when there’s a child involved!’ Her reply was emphatic, born of personal experience. ‘Neither of us wants to subject Max to that kind of marriage.’

  ‘What kind of marriage, exactly?’

  She pursed her lips, pushing away memories of her childhood. Memories of her parents, who’d fought constantly, who’d been so out of sync, always worried about money, quarrelling with each other, and, when they weren’t together, shouting at their children. ‘One where we argue and snap. I don’t want Max to think that’s what family life is all about.’

  ‘I don’t intend to argue with you once we’re married.’

  ‘So what do you intend once we’re married?’

  The question appeared to unsettle him for a moment.

  Feeling she’d claimed the sensible high ground, she pushed home her advantage. ‘You can’t actually picture this, can you, Dimitrios? You and me, husband and wife, for as long as we both shall live?’

  His eyes were swirling with the intensity of his thoughts.

  ‘Or is this just an arrangement until Max is a bit older? Twelve? Fifteen? Eighteen? At what point do you imagine we’ll walk away from this farce you’re proposing and get on with our real lives?’

  His Adam’s apple jerked as he swallowed. ‘I promised Lewis I would look after you.’

  Annie had to reach behind her for some form of support. ‘What?’ The word was just a croak.

 
Dimitrios’s expression was grim. ‘Before he died.’ He looked distinctly uncomfortable—rife with grief. ‘He was worried about you. Your parents, the way they treated you...’ He shook his head. ‘He asked me to keep an eye on you.’

  Annie stared at him for several anguished seconds, tears thick in her throat. It was so like Lewis; oh, how she missed her big brother! ‘I didn’t know.’

  ‘No.’ He grimaced. ‘Well, I didn’t exactly follow through on what I’d promised him.’ She understood then—he felt guilty, just as she did, but his guilt had nothing to do with the awful things he’d said to her, the way he’d rejected her so cruelly. No, his guilt was because he’d betrayed Lewis and the promise he’d made. It didn’t make her feel better, but it did make a sad kind of sense of what had happened back then.

  ‘That’s why you came to me that night? To check up on me?’

  He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. It shone a new light on how one-sided their passion had been.

  ‘I promised him I’d take care of you, and I’ve badly neglected that promise. I had no idea how badly until recently but, Annabelle, I intend to fix this. I intend to look after you.’

  Her heart twisted, pride snapping inside her. ‘And if I don’t want looking after? If I point out that I can do that all for myself?’

  He leaned closer and her body tightened in an unwelcome response. ‘I can’t tell you what our marriage will be like. I’m acting on instinct here, and every instinct is telling me getting married is the only thing that makes sense. I promise you this, though—I will never neglect your needs again, Annabelle.’

  She ground her teeth together, knowing the importance of fighting him. ‘Stop speaking as though this is going to happen.’

  ‘But it is going to happen.’

  ‘You do realise this is the twenty-first century? And that I’m a woman with my own ability to make this decision?’

  ‘The decision has been taken out of our hands.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  He pushed back in his chair, regarding her with eyes that were impossible to read. ‘What do you know of my life?’

  The question was unexpected. ‘Not a lot,’ she admitted.

  ‘You know my family is wealthy.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘You’re a Papandreo. Your family isn’t just “wealthy”. You’re richer than Croesus. What’s your point?’

  ‘That money brings with it a mountain of consequences.’

  ‘Like never having to work a day in your life?’

  He arched a brow. She regretted the waspish comment as soon as she’d said it. Both Zach and Dimitrios worked harder than just about anyone. Casting aspersions on their dedication was just petty. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.’ She sighed. ‘For the record, that’s exactly the kind of snappy comment I don’t want Max growing up having to hear.’

  His grin melted something deep inside her, filling her with warmth. ‘So don’t snap at me, then.’

  ‘Easier said than done,’ she muttered, taking another sip of her tea.

  ‘From the minute my brother and I went to live with our father, there has been press intrusion in our lives. Paparazzi, ridiculous stories, speculative documentaries asserting all sorts of fanciful “truths”.’ He shook his head scathingly. ‘While we have become used to that nonsense, you’re not. Max isn’t.’ He leaned closer again, and his masculine fragrance tickled her nostrils, causing her gut to clench in powerful response. ‘There is no question of keeping this a secret. A reporter knows. This story will break soon, and your life will change in ways you can’t anticipate. I can’t protect you here. I can’t protect you unless you’re in my home, living with me. I can’t protect Max unless he’s in my house, where I can see him. Don’t you get that?’

  She gulped, the reality of what he was saying banging into her hard.

  ‘I—can cope with reporters,’ she mumbled not at all convincingly, to either of them. ‘I mean, I’ll learn to cope.’

  ‘Perhaps. But in the meantime you’ll expose Max to unnecessary difficulties and drama, all because you won’t be reasonable.’

  ‘Reasonable?’ Her jaw dropped. ‘Marrying you is the opposite of reasonable! It’s preposterous. I haven’t seen you in seven years and the last time I did see you was—hardly a success,’ she pointed out, shaking her head, then closing her eyes against the deluge of memories threatening to weaken her.

  ‘This isn’t about us any more.’ His voice rang with certainty. ‘Max is my number-one priority.’

  ‘You haven’t even met him.’

  Dimitrios’s expression barely shifted, yet a shiver ran down Annie’s spine. ‘A point I wouldn’t labour, if I were you.’

  She bit down on her lip. ‘I only meant that he’s also my number-one priority. Don’t swoop in and act as if you’re the only one capable of prioritising him.’

  ‘With all due respect, Annabelle, when I look around this home I see someone who is proud—to a fault. You described me a moment ago as “richer than Croesus”, and yet you have been living here in abject poverty, barely making ends meet.’

  ‘That’s presumptuous of you.’

  ‘No, it’s not. Your credit rating is in dire straits, you’re weeks behind in the paltry rental payments, you don’t have private health insurance, you don’t have a car, you look as though you haven’t eaten in a week...’

  She gasped. ‘Dimitrios...have you had me investigated?’

  ‘You kept my child from me. Don’t you think I had a right to find out how he’s been living?’

  Annie tried to calm her racing heart but she felt as though she were drowning in the sea of his accusations.

  ‘You could have just asked me.’

  His eyes held a silent challenge. He didn’t need to say what he was thinking—she could read it in his face. You might have lied. Inexplicably, tears filled her eyes. She blinked rapidly to clear them, but one escaped and slid slowly down her cheek, dripping on to the table top.

  ‘This is not the end of the world.’ His words were gentle.

  She stood uneasily, running a hand through her hair as she moved into the kitchen. She wasn’t particularly thirsty but restlessness made her act. She pulled two glasses down and filled them from the tap, before returning to the table.

  ‘I can’t imagine how you must feel,’ she said softly, shaking her head. ‘You’re being so calm and reasonable, but you must feel...’

  His eyes sparked with hers for a moment and her heart turned over in her chest.

  ‘Yes, I feel,’ he agreed gruffly. ‘I have missed six years of our son’s life—because of a decision you made.’ He mirrored her earlier gesture, pushing his chair back and standing, crossing his arms. ‘I feel everything you might expect,’ he said, his voice lowering, calming, his eyes showing anguish but not anger. ‘But what good can come of making you pay for that now?’

  His eyes probed hers for several long seconds, as though he was scanning her innermost thoughts, assessing her piece by piece.

  ‘Should I punish you, Annabelle? Take our child away from you, like you took him away from me?’

  A shiver ran the length of her spine and she lifted a hand, pressing it over her mouth.

  ‘Should I put you through a legal battle you definitely cannot afford, and which I will undoubtedly win? Should I make sure the press has all the gory details, so that you’re branded all over the Internet as the kind of woman who’d keep a child separated from his father?’

  She wrapped her arms around her slender frame, her eyes huge in her delicate face.

  ‘Don’t think these options didn’t occur to me. I left last night because each and every one of them was running through my mind, begging to be thrown at you, hurled in a way that could cause the most damage. Surely you deserve that?’

  Pain tore through her.

  ‘But then
I thought of the little boy, and how much he must love you. I thought of how, when he is a man, he will judge me for the decisions I make today. He will look at me as a hero or a villain based on how I treat you—his mother. And so I came here to extend an olive branch I’m not sure you deserve, but that I need you to accept. Because I will do whatever it takes to have him in my life.’

  It was too much. Too kind, too reasonable, so full of love for their child—not his, not hers but theirs. Yet there was still the lurking undertone of a threat. She could tell he didn’t want to carry his threats out, yet he would. Of course he would! If she didn’t comply, he would take Max away from her.

  She couldn’t let that happen, even when the idea of marrying Dimitrios terrified her.

  ‘Marriage is—’ She hesitated, thinking of all the childish fairy-tales Lewis had filled her head with. ‘It’s meant to be so much more than this.’

  A muscle jerked in his jaw. ‘Meaning?’

  ‘It’s meant to be about love,’ she whispered. And, while she felt stupid and naïve, it was also important for her to admit her belief in that. He was asking her to go against everything she knew to be true.

  ‘For some people it is,’ he agreed. ‘But for others, it’s a convenient arrangement. All marriages are an exchange. Ours won’t be based on love but that doesn’t mean it can’t still be good—for both of us.’

  Her heart cracked. Not once had Lewis told her about something so pragmatic. She felt a chasm forming inside her, the reality of her situation clear—the rightness of what he was proposing and the reasons she should agree. But the belief she’d always carried in her heart—that one day she’d be swept off her feet by Prince Charming—was smouldering into ashes.

  ‘I need to think about it,’ she said quietly. ‘Is that okay?’

  His eyes held hers for several seconds, each making her heart twist and her pulse throb, but finally he nodded—just once, a shift of his head, a turn of his body. He began to walk; she waited for him to go past her, but as he reached her he stopped, staring down into her eyes, his expression one she couldn’t understand.

  ‘Think fast, Annabelle. I’ve waited six years. I won’t wait much longer to be his father.’