AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She nodded, listening to his words, hearing the intent in them.
‘I cannot have my daughter raised anywhere but in my home,’ he murmured, clearing his throat. She jerked her gaze to his and the depth of feeling in his eyes almost tore her in two. ‘I need to know she is safe. That you are safe.’ He turned away from her, stalking towards the table. He placed his palms on it, staring straight ahead, out into the water. The party raged outside their doors, but inside this room, it was deathly silent.
‘We don’t really even know each other,’ she said quietly, even as her heart was shifting, and her mind was moving three steps ahead to her inevitable acceptance.
Two main points were working on her to accept. Whatever threat he perceived, there was enough of a basis in fact for Hannah to be seriously concerned. His wife and child had been murdered. His father was in the mob. These threats did not simply disappear—she was in danger, and so was their daughter.
And even if it weren’t for that, there were other considerations. Hannah’s parents had died unexpectedly and her whole world had imploded. She’d been moved to her aunt and uncle’s—who she’d barely known—and been left to their dubious care. She’d been miserable and alone.
There were no guarantees in life, but weren’t two parents better than one wherever possible? Wasn’t it more of an insurance policy for their daughter to know both her mother and father? What if Hannah insisted on raising her alone, with Leonidas as a ‘bit player’ in their lives, and then something happened to Hannah? And what if by then he’d married someone else, and their child was an outsider?
As Hannah had been.
She expelled a soft breath, the reality of that like a punch in the gut. Because marrying Leonidas would mean she’d always be on the edge, that she’d never find that one thing she knew she really wanted, deep down: a true family of her own. A family to which she belonged. People who adored and wanted her.
But this wasn’t about her; it wasn’t about her wants and desires. All that mattered was their baby.
With resignation in her turbulent green eyes, she lifted her head a little, partway to nodding.
He saw it, and his eyes narrowed then he straightened, relief in his features. ‘We will fly to the island today. My lawyer will take care of the paperwork.’
But it was all so rushed. Hannah spun away from him, lifting her water bottle from the table’s edge and sipping it.
‘I have a job, Leonidas.’
‘Quit.’
There were only two weeks left of her maternity contract. It wasn’t the worst thing to do, though she hated the idea of leaving her boss in the lurch. She dropped her hand to her stomach and thought of their baby and nothing else seemed to matter.
For her? She’d do anything.
‘You will be safe on the island,’ he insisted, as though he could read her thoughts and knew exactly which buttons to press to get her to agree.
‘On Chrysá Vráchia?’ she asked distractedly.
‘No.’ His expression took on a contemplative look. ‘My island.’
‘You have your own island?’ Disbelief filled the tone of her words.
‘Yes. Not far from Chrysá.’ He moved closer, his eyes scanning her face. ‘It is beautiful. You’ll like it.’
She was sure she would, but it was all happening so fast. Even knowing she would agree—that she had agreed—she heard herself say softly, ‘This is crazy.’
And perhaps he thought she was going to change her mind, because he crossed the room and caught her arms, holding her close to him, his gaze locked to hers.
‘You have to see that I cannot let our child be raised away from me. And, following that logic, that it is best for us to be married, to at least try to present our child with a sense of family, even when we know it to be a lie.’
Her heart squeezed tight, her lungs expelled air in a rush. Because it was exactly what she wanted, exactly what she’d just been thinking. Still, cynicism was quick to follow relief. ‘You really think we can fool our child into believing we’re a normal couple?’
His lips were a grim slash and she had the strongest impression that he couldn’t have been less impressed if she’d suggested he set fire to this beautiful, enormous yacht.
‘I think we owe it to our child to try.’
CHAPTER FIVE
HIS STATE-OF-THE-ART HELICOPTER flew them from the yacht to the airport, where his private jet was waiting.
It was the kind of plane Hannah had flown to Italy aboard, the kind that commercial airlines used, only it bore the name ‘Leonidas Stathakis’ in gold down the side. When she stepped on board it was exactly like walking into a plush hotel.
