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 somehow that made it more real than the disconnected terms of babies and pregnancies. If his hands weren’t his livelihood, he might have smashed his fist against one of the walls. But he lashed out with words instead.
‘Okay, so you’ve told me. Pretty expensive and protracted way of doing so. You came all this way to tell me that? You didn’t think of ringing?’
It would give too much away if she confessed that she’d wanted to see his expression when she told him. He might think she’d been holding out for a remarkable about-turn—as if he would pull her into his arms and tell her he’d missed her, and that having her carrying his babies beneath her heart was like a dream come true.
And hadn’t there been a tiny part of her which hadn’t ruled out that thought—even though it had flown in the face of all logic? That the man who had everything might realise that none of it mattered when compared to these miraculous new lives they’d created? But there could be no mistaking the lack of emotion on his proud and beautiful features. She had wanted an answer to her silent question and it was written there—in stark detail.
Slowly, Rebecca began to rise to her feet, her heart suddenly heavy.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he demanded.
‘Home. Well, back to the hotel. I have done what I came for.’
His black eyes narrowed. ‘But nothing has been decided.’
‘There’s nothing to decide, Xandros. That isn’t why I’m here. You are now in full possession of the facts and my conscience is clear.’
‘Well, mine is not!’ he thundered. He raked his fingers back through his ebony hair. ‘I will pay!’ he announced.
For a moment she completely misinterpreted what he meant and her trembling hand shot out to grab hold of the chair-back. ‘P-pay? What are you talking about?’
He stilled. ‘What do you think? For your upkeep. For the children’s—’ Briefly, the word froze in his throat. ‘For their upkeep, once they are born,’ he continued. ‘And you will need money to support yourself until that happens. I assume you won’t be allowed to fly after a certain point? Isn’t that what usually happens?’
She opened her mouth to tell him that she was not allowed to fly now—that she had lost her job because she had broken the rules—but did she want to come across as some kind of victim? No, she did not. In fact, it was imperative that she didn’t. From now on she needed to be strong and independent—not just for her own sake, but, more importantly, for the sake of her babies. Babies. Rebecca shivered. If the idea of twins had come as a shock to Xandros, it had troubled her even more. He was used to two of everything, while she was a complete novice. How on earth was she going to manage?
‘I didn’t come here to ask you for money,’ she said.
‘Maybe not, but I am a wealthy man—we both know that.’ His black eyes glittered. ‘I want you to take what I am offering. In fact, I insist upon it.’
And as Rebecca looked into his eyes she realised that Xandros needed to give her something concrete—like money. That way he could wash his hands of all responsibility. Because he hadn’t expressed the wish she had secretly prayed for—to want to play some part, no matter how small, in his children’s lives.
She shook her head. ‘You aren’t in any position to insist on anything, Xandros,’ she said.
Fleetingly, he thought it ironic that, with Rebecca in this new and physically vulnerable state, he had never seen her look or sound quite so strong
‘But this is not a battle of wills, Rebecca,’ he said softly. ‘It is what is known as making the most of a bad situation. You live in that tiny place, which some might consider too small even for one. How the hell do you expect to be able to cope with, not one, but two new babies there—had you thought about that?’
‘What do you think?’ She had thought of little else. This would be a good cue for hysteria, Rebecca thought as she stared at him in disbelief—but she could not allow herself the indulgence of such a useless emotion. She registered the critical way he had dismissed her apartment. To think how hard she’d worked on it—hoping to impress him with her little home—and all the time he had felt nothing but contempt for it! Didn’t he realise that not everyone was as fortunate as he was?
But it was her sheer short-sightedness which troubled her most. That she could have made so bad a judgement about a man. How could she have possibly thought that she loved him—when he had a heart of stone which made a mockery of the hard warmth of his body?
Rubbing her shivery arms with her hands and wishing she’d brought some kind of jacket, she fixed him with a look which told him that, although her self-respect might have taken a bit of a battering, she would repair it as best she could, but without any help from him.
‘I’ll manage somehow,’ she said, her voice low but dignified. ‘I may not be rich, but you can be sure that I’ll love these babies, Xandros. I’ll love them with all my heart—and I don’t want anything from you. Do you understand that?’
His eyes narrowed as they met in a silent clash with hers, but unexpectedly her fervent words pierced him. She had said that she would love them—but he knew only too well that being a mother did not guarantee loving your children. When she realised that he meant what he said about not marrying her—would she still feel the same? Or might she then see adoption as a sensible solution?
‘I understand perfectly,’ he said. ‘But whether you want help or not, you’re getting it. I will pay money into an account for you—what you choose to do with it is up to you. In return, I ask that you keep me informed of your progress during the pregnancy. Is that understood?’
She stared at him. ‘You mean you want to be involved?’
He hardened his heart against her violet eyes. ‘I meant I want a progress report,’ he said, as if he were talking about the construction of one of his own projects. ‘I wish to know when they…’He swallowed then, despite his determination to feel nothing. ‘I want to know when you give birth. Will you do that for me?’
‘Yes.’ The word was little more than a lost sigh in that great big office space and Rebecca stood up. If she didn’t feel so emotionally and physically vulnerable, she would have left quietly and gone in search of the nearest subway. But she couldn’t face it. ‘I’d like to go now,’ she said, in a low voice. Before she did something unforgivable, like breaking down into a cascade of choking sobs in front of him.
Xandros could see the trembling of her lips. Once he would have kissed that tremble away, but now he could not—for that would dishonour them both. Their relationship was over—they both knew that.
He suspected what she really wanted of him—what was probably expected of him—but he could not give any kind of emotional commitment to these unborn children. Far better to promise nothing than to fail to deliver. And didn’t he come from exactly the right kind of background to walk away from a child? Didn’t abandonment run deep in his veins?
Hidden by the shafts of his powerful thighs, his fists clenched in anger. ‘My driver is waiting,’ he said tightly. ‘I will take you down to him.’
CHAPTER SIX
YET for the first time in his life, Alexandros Pavlidis found himself proved wrong.
He had expected—what? That Rebecca would use her pregnancy to gain increased access to his life, in an attempt to make herself a permanent fixture there, no matter how much she had protested otherwise?
Yes, of course he had. Too often in the past women had lied to him or tried to conceal their true motives in their attempts to ensnare him. And didn’t she have a more valid reason than any of her predecessors to want him in her life? Two babies on the way. Two babies which were due to be born in a few short weeks’ time, according to the calendar on his kitchen wall.
Xandros finished knotting his silk tie and stared back at his image in the mirror. His eyes looked shadowed, his hard face unsmiling. In the frantic world beyond his condominium, a snowy New York was rushing to prepare itself for the holiday season, and no city did it better.
The giant Christmas tree at the Rockefeller centre was blazing with coloured lights and the ice-rink was filled with happy skaters. Department store windows were groaning with nostalgic images which had been lifted straight from the pages of children’s books. On Xandros’s mantelpiece, dozens of invitations were stacked like giant playing cards—but he was distracted.
Just what the hell was Rebecca playing at?
He had expected the generous allowance he had paid into an account for her to be withdrawn immediately, but he had been wrong.
He had expected regular updates from her—an attempt to involve him in the pregnancy with an excess of detail. Again, he had been wrong.
She had withdrawn no money—not a cent—and the only real news he had received about the pregnancy had been the two images from one of her scans. They had arrived in a plain brown envelope, marked ‘Private and Confidential’ and Xandros had sat staring at them for a long time.
He was used to studying pictures; that was part of his job—to see something grow from a rough design into something real—but this was something completely outside his experience.
At first his untrained eye could hardly distinguish between the grainy components of the photo, but gradually—like one of those optical illusions which people sent out over the internet—the image became clear. Yet it was still difficult to believe the import of what he was seeing. Were these tiny, tadpole-like shapes really potential human beings?
In spite of his determination not to think of the bigger picture, he felt a sensation which was midway between wonder and pain and, giving into rare impulse, he picked up the phone and dialled her number in England.
Her voice sounded wary. ‘Hello?’
‘It’s me. Xandros.’
Yes, I know it’s you, thought Rebecca and sucked in an unsteady breath. ‘Hello, Xandros.’
It wasn’t the most rapturous welcome in the world. Xandros stared out at the lightening New York sky and his mouth tightened. ‘I called to see how you were doing.’
Give him the facts, Rebecca told herself. Just the facts—that’s all he wants. ‘Oh, the doctors are very pleased with my progress. The pregnancy is going exactly as it should and the babies—’ How bizarre it felt to be saying this—to be discussing these intimate details with a man who felt little more than a stranger. Who was little more than a stranger. ‘The babies are doing fine—so they tell me, looking at the scan. Did you get the pictures I sent you?’
In spite of his determination not to react, Xandros felt his heartbeat increase. When she said ‘babies’ like that—in that soft, English accent—it sounded frighteningly real and yet ridiculously far-away. ‘Yes. Yes, I got them. What are you doing for Christmas?’
She had told herself to expect nothing, but she had absolutely no control over the sudden hopeful lurching of her heart. Did he realise that she was pretty much trapped by size and circumstance? But if she told him the truth—that she was planning to overdose on chocolate and sloppy films—wouldn’t that sound as if she were some poor little victim, desperate for her white knight to come along and scoop her up on his charger. Well, Xandros was certainly no white knight—and she was certainly no victim.
‘Oh, I’m being very lazy,’ she said, injecting as much purring satisfaction into her voice as she could. ‘What about you?’
He thought of all the parties he’d been invited to and the people who would be at them—the über-thin women, so eager to please and to take him to their beds. The Park Avenue matrons so keen to marry off their daughters—his power and Greek virility in exchange for some obscene trust fund. But suddenly Rebecca’s satisfied voice became the main focus in his mind and he felt the first simmerings of annoyance.
Because her response wasn’t what he had been expecting, either. Shouldn’t there have been a wistful little note in her voice—as if she was wishing or hoping that things could have been different between them? As if ideally she would like to have been curled up in front of a holiday fire with him?
‘Oh, the usual festive revelry,’ he said carelessly as he ran his fingertips over one thick, gold-embossed card. ‘More invitations than I can cope with. You know what it’s like.’
She didn’t, of course—but Xandros wasn’t aware of that and nor did he need to know how isolated her life had become. Maybe cocooning herself away as much as possible was nature’s way of ensuring that she got all the rest her tired body was craving.
She had been accepted by the others in her antenatal classes—they were really sweet—even though she was the only single mother in a group of ecstatic couples. They all wanted to fuss round her because she was expecting twins—Rebecca didn’t mind that bit at all—but some protective instinct had made her deflect their curious questions.
Maybe she was wrong, but she found herself unwilling to tell them her story—for wouldn’t it sound as if she’d foolishly reached for the stars and then come crashing down to earth?
I fell in love with a Greek billionaire and after we’d finished I discovered I was pregnant.
Why, even to her own ears she sounded like some kind of gold-digger!
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