by Lynne Graham
‘Ginny…could you bear to stay here alone with Elias until later this evening?’ Maribel asked tautly. ‘I need to see Leonidas.’
CHAPTER SIX
MARIBEL was in the private lift being wafted up to Leonidas’ office in the Pallis building when her mobile rang. It was Hermione Stratton, and her aunt was in a virulent fury.
‘Is it true that Leonidas Pallis is the father of your son?’ Hermione demanded in a furious voice of disbelief.
Maribel winced; she had always feared that that revelation might annoy the older woman. ‘I’m afraid so.’
‘You sly, scheming little witch!’ her aunt condemned shrilly. ‘He couldn’t possibly have wanted you. You couldn’t hold a candle to Imogen in looks or personality!’
That verbal onslaught from her closest relative gutted Maribel. ‘I know,’ she responded gruffly. ‘I’m sorry that you’ve been upset by all this.’
‘Don’t make me sick! Why would you be sorry? That little boy must be worth a fortune to you! You’ve been a very, very clever young woman.’
‘I think I’ve been rather stupid,’ her niece contradicted in a pained undertone. ‘I didn’t plan this. This is not how I wanted my life to turn out.’
‘Don’t you dare get in touch with anyone in this family ever again!’ the older woman warned her in a vitriolic rant. ‘As far as we’re concerned, from this moment on, you’re dead.’
After those harsh words, Maribel was pale as snow. She had hoped that time would soften her aunt’s attitude to her son and could now see no prospect of that. The lift opened onto a private vestibule. A male PA ushered her into a huge office and informed her that Leonidas would join her when his early-evening meeting had finished. The tall windows displayed the most amazing views of the City of London, lights twinkling against the backdrop of a ruddy sunset. The furniture was contemporary and stylish. First and foremost, however, it was an efficient, custom-designed workspace. Leonidas never mixed business with pleasure. He would probably be less than pleased at her uninvited descent on his business empire.
‘Maribel…’ Lean, mean and magnificent in a tailored grey pinstripe suit that was enlivened by a red tie, Leonidas wore a rare expression of concern on his darkly handsome features. In a disconcerting move, he crossed the room and reached for both her hands. ‘You should have told me that you wanted to see me. I would have sent a helicopter to pick you up. How are you?’
He was a class act, she acknowledged abstractedly, never stuck for the right word for the occasion. In collision with his brilliant dark heavily lashed eyes, she felt positively dizzy. As always, he looked amazing and he made her feel detached from reality, breathless, on the edge of thrills too wicked and wonderful to even think about without blushing. Yet, she had only to think of her son and there was murder in her heart when she gazed back at Leonidas.
‘You’re being nice because you believe you’ve won. You think I’ve come running all this way in search of your support, don’t you?’ Maribel bit out shakily, powered by rage and wounded pride.
‘Isn’t that what I’m here for?’ Leonidas surveyed her with resolute cool and satisfaction, for he could think of nothing more appropriate than that she should demand and expect his assistance. Her independence in a crisis infuriated him. ‘You’ve had a very distressing day.’
Maribel snatched her hands free of his in a gesture of rejection. ‘Isn’t that how you planned it?’
His ebony brows drew together. ‘Naturally not.’
‘But you were the instigator of that story in The Globe,’ Maribel fired at him without even pausing to draw breath. ‘You were behind it. No, don’t you dare lie to me!’
Displaying a disturbing amount of confidence in the face of her livid attack, Leonidas lounged back against his designer desk with lithe grace. ‘I have never lied to you.’
Maribel spun away from him, literally so angry she couldn’t speak. But even turned away from him she could feel the power of him. Nobody could be around Leonidas without becoming aware of the extent of that strength and power. ‘The article in the paper was too precise. All the facts were right and there were no scandalous revelations.’
‘There is no scandal in your life,’ Leonidas pointed out gently. ‘Apart from me.’
Angry, incredulous suspicion had brought Maribel to London to confront Leonidas. At the very core of her, though, there had still been room for healthy doubt and an acceptance that sometimes a chain of coincidences could give a misleading impression. But she had accused him and he had not yet voiced a word of denial in his own defence. Not one single word. The meaning of his silence on that score was finally sinking in on her.
‘You did mastermind it—you were behind that story about us,’ she whispered unevenly. ‘It’s hard for me to accept that even you could be that selfish and destructive.’
Leonidas was determined not to rise to the bait. He hoped he was not unreasonable: Maribel was entitled to feel aggrieved and he was prepared to let her get that out of her system. While curious as to how she had worked it all out so fast, he was by no means surprised by her swift grasp of the truth. Shimmering dark-as-ebony eyes screened, he scrutinised her, admiring the natural pink of her cheeks and the generous curve of her mouth. Long before he got as far as the ravishing swell of her abundant breasts, his groin was tightening. He was disconcerted by the speed of his response.
‘The paparazzi were already onto us,’ he pointed out.
‘There is no us!’ Maribel shot back at him angrily.
‘Are you saying that because you’re seeing someone else? And don’t tell me that’s nothing to do with me,’ Leonidas urged. ‘It is relevant to this situation.’
‘I’m not currently involved with anyone else,’ Maribel admitted grudgingly.
‘Whether you like it or not, we have a connection through our son,’ Leonidas asserted in the same outrageously quiet tone. ‘How long did you think I could keep on flying down to see Elias without attracting attention? He could not be kept a secret indefinitely, glikia mou.’
‘I disagree—’
‘But—with respect—you don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t live in my world. It’s a goldfish bowl. Even with all my staff and security, my movements are watched and noted in the gossip columns. Sometimes it is wiser to handle the press and shape what is published. The alternative is often a hatchet job, and I felt that when it came to you and my son a sensitive PR spin on the facts was preferable.’ Leonidas viewed her with immense calm. ‘I stand by that decision.’
Her violet eyes blazed with resentment. She could not credit the extent of his nerve. ‘Stop wrapping it up and trying to pretend that you did it to protect us! You weren’t planning to tell me the truth and you don’t seem to understand or care how much damage you’ve done!’
At that condemnation, his chiselled jawline clenched. ‘I appreciate your annoyance.’
‘Like you appreciate me as “a confidante”?’ Maribel slammed back at him with scornful force.
The faintest hint of dark blood demarcated the superb slant of his cheekbones. ‘You’re angry, but my intentions were good. I’m not ashamed of Elias. He’s my son. I’m proud of him. I refuse to hide him.’
A shaken and humourless laugh was dredged from Maribel’s lush pink lips. The most colossal sense of bitterness was overtaking her. ‘And what about our lives? That aspect didn’t matter to you, did it? But my privacy has been destroyed and you had no right to do that. I will for ever be associated with a tacky one-night stand and you—’
All relaxation jettisoned, Leonidas strode forward. ‘Theos mou—that night was neither of those things.’
Maribel wasn’t listening. ‘Wasn’t it enough that I let you see Elias? Does everything have to be your way?’
‘I want both of you in my life on an open and honest basis,’ Leonidas informed her boldly.
‘And if you can’t get what you want by asking, you’ll fight dirty?’ Maribel was starting to tremble with rage. ‘All yo
u’ve done is prove is how right I was to distrust you. I’m finished with you, absolutely, totally finished. I gave you a chance and you blew it—’
‘You, not I, made this a fight. I won’t walk away from either of you.’
‘You’ve been walking away from women all your life and, right at this moment, the son that you pretend to value so much is hiding under the table with the dog!’ Her blue eyes were glistening with wrathful tears of condemnation, her anger all-consuming. ‘Elias doesn’t understand why I’m unhappy, why the curtains can’t be opened, why it’s dark, why it’s so noisy outside, or why he can’t go out to play the way he usually does. He’s scared and he’s upset. You are his father and you did that to him today.’
Leonidas had paled below the healthy bronze of his complexion.
‘And why did you do it?’ Maribel breathed fiercely. ‘Because you are an arrogant bastard, who can’t see past winning. Well, today, you lost, Leonidas. You scored a spectacular own goal. I can’t trust you. I’m afraid now. You’re a threat to me and to my son. You’d have to marry me to see Elias again.’
His ebony brows snapped together. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘Because that’s the only way I could ever feel safe letting you have access to him again! I don’t have the resources or the connections to stand up to you. Only a wife could fight you on the same level. As we both know, that’s not going to happen, so please leave us alone. With a bit of luck the paparazzi will then get bored and go away. I have no wish to live in the public eye.’
Leonidas was stunned by her attitude. ‘You can’t bar me from your lives.’
‘Why not? I’ve seen what you can do with your money and your influence. It’s my duty to protect my son and I can’t compete with you—’
‘Elias does not need to be protected from me!’ Leonidas closed his hands over her narrow wrists to prevent her backing away from him.
‘Doesn’t he? What sort of an influence will you be?’ Maribel almost sobbed, for rage and sorrow had melded into a combustible mix inside her. ‘You own dozens of houses, but you’ve never lived in a proper home. Even as a child you didn’t have rules, you just did as you liked. You had a miniature Ferrari and your own race track at ten years old. You can’t give Elias or teach him what you never knew yourself.’
‘If you move in Heyward Park and stop being so stubborn and difficult, mali mou,’ Leonidas breathed in a raw undertone, ‘I might learn. That is, if I have anything to learn, and I am not convinced that I do.’
Scorching dark golden eyes blazed down into hers and sentenced her to stillness. There was a sob locked in her throat and a maelstrom of emotion fighting for an exit inside her slim, taut figure. She would never be happy in a casual living arrangement of that nature. He was an addiction she needed to cure, not surrender to. While she adored Elias, she believed that she would have been happier had she never met his father. ‘I want my life back. A clean break.’
‘No.’ Long brown fingers meshed into the fall of her chestnut hair to angle her head back. He brought his arrogant dark head down and grazed the tender skin of her throat with his lips and the edge of his teeth. Her every skin cell jangled into vibrant, energetic life and an achingly sharp pang of pleasure-pain tightened low in her tummy.
For a split-second Maribel wanted Leonidas so much it hurt. In a devastating burst of intimate images she recalled the passionate weight of his lean, strong body over hers that night in her cousin’s house. A passion that had cost her so much she was still paying for it. Just as quickly she remembered her aunt’s verbal attack. When was enough enough? Stinging tears at the back of her mortified eyes, she mustered her self-discipline and she pulled free of him. Her oval face was pale and tight with self-control.
‘No,’ Maribel told him in flat refusal. ‘You’re bad news for me.’
No woman had ever told Leonidas that he was bad news before.
‘I’ve said all I’ve got to say.’ Maribel walked back to the door, all churned up inside and frozen on the outside. ‘Stay away from us. I don’t owe you anything. Only a few weeks ago you didn’t know Elias existed and you were perfectly happy and content. I wish you had never come to visit me. You lifted the lid on Pandora’s box.’
Leonidas stared with brooding intensity at the space Maribel had so recently occupied. She had walked out on him—again. Savage frustration roared through his big powerful frame. So, he had got it wrong. Badly wrong. It was exceedingly rare, but he had made a mistake and he was prepared to acknowledge the fact. Why was she always judging him? Even worse, finding serious fault? Walking away, refusing to compromise or even negotiate? What did it take to please Maribel? If it was a wedding ring, she was destined to disappointment, he reflected harshly, dark eyes hard as iron. What kind of blackmail was that? His chilling anger was tempered, however, by the picture he could not get out of his head—his son taking refuge beneath the table with that pathetic dog. It felt very much like an own goal and that galled him. But what honed his anger to a gleaming razor edge was the knowledge that without Maribel’s permission he could not even see Elias.
A week crept past on leaden feet for Maribel.
She was surrounded and ambushed by paparazzi at home and wherever she went. At her request, the police restricted the press presence to gathering at the foot of the lane, but she was still afraid to take Elias into the garden lest a stray photographer pop up from behind the hedge or the fence. She was also tormented by the fear that she had been unfair to Leonidas who, after all, was what he was because he had been horribly neglected as a small child.
In Maribel’s opinion, his late mother, Elora Pallis, had had no more notion of how to be a parent than a shop-window dummy. An only child, the volatile heiress to the Pallis fortune of her generation, Elora had racked up four marriages and countless affairs before she’d died of a heart attack in her mid thirties. Non-stop scandal and drug and alcohol addiction had ensured that Elora was a poor mother to the daughter born while she was still a teenager and the son born three years later. Leonidas had only found out who his true father was after the man had died. He had received little in the way of love, attention or stability. When he was fourteen, he had gone to court to demand legal separation from his capricious mother and had moved in with his grandfather. Within three years, however, his mother, his older sister and his grandfather had passed away leaving him alone. And alone was what Leonidas had been ever since, Maribel conceded heavily. At least, until he had met Elias.
Eight days after their London meeting, Leonidas strode into Maribel’s office in the ancient history department when she was labouring over a timetable.
‘Leonidas?’ she queried in stark disconcertion, rising hurriedly upright behind her cluttered desk. Her heart was pounding uncomfortably fast because her once rock-solid nerves had taken a real battering since the paparazzi had begun chasing her around.
Although the lean sculpted face was austere and his dark, deep-set eyes hard as granite, his breathtaking attraction still made the breath catch in her throat. ‘If marriage is the only way, I’ll make you my wife.’
Shock took Maribel by storm as this was not a development she had foreseen. ‘But I wasn’t serious…I was only making my point.’
Leonidas looked grimmer than ever and unimpressed by her claim. ‘Elias is a powerful incentive. I’m suggesting a business arrangement, of course.’
‘Of course,’ she echoed, not really sure she knew what she was saying, or indeed what she was feeling, beyond a sense of unreality. ‘How could a marriage be a business arrangement?’
‘What else could it be? I want access to my son. I want him to have my name. I want to watch him grow up. You won’t share him without a wedding ring. I recognise a deal when I get offered one, glikia mou.’
‘But that’s not what I meant. I simply want what is best for Elias.’
Leonidas elevated an imperious brow. ‘Yes or no? I will not ask twice.’
Maribel thought very fast. If she mar
ried him, she would be giving him legal binding rights over Elias, but she would be around to curb any parenting excesses and watch over her son. If the relationship went wrong she would at least be able to afford the services of a good lawyer. Those were the practical considerations, but what about the personal ones? A business arrangement could only mean that he was talking about a platonic relationship.
Those acquainted with the fabled Pallis cool and control would have been astonished to learn that, at that precise moment, Leonidas was hanging onto his temper by a very slender thread. He had just done what he had always said he would never do: he had proposed marriage. A gold digger would have accepted before he even finished speaking. A woman who cared about him would have displayed some generous and warm response, he reasoned fiercely. But what was Maribel doing? Mulling the offer over with a serious frown on her face!
Marrying a guy who didn’t love her, and who would probably despise her for marrying him on such terms, would not be a ticket to happiness, Maribel ruminated ruefully. It would be a stony road full of disappointments and hurts. So, what was new? On the other hand, if she was destined never to love anyone else, she might as well be with him as be without him. Surely any marriage would be what she made of it? Looking to Leonidas to make a constructive matrimonial input would be naïve and foolish. It would be like unlocking a lion’s cage and expecting the predator to come out and behave like a domestic pussycat. Leonidas had had no positive marital role models. Not only did he not have a clue, but she would have to contend with the unhappy truth that he had no intention of changing.