Maks sounded frustrated. ‘Zoe...if you are, you need to tell me.’
She finally looked at him, focusing on anger to block out all the other disturbing emotions. ‘Why? When I know exactly how you feel about having a family? You’re the last man I’d choose to be the father of my child.’
‘If you were pregnant with my baby I would take responsibility. You wouldn’t be alone.’
The thought of Maks having to take responsibility for her made bile rise inside Zoe. She said, ‘Even if I was pregnant I wouldn’t come to you, because I don’t need to. No matter how much money I give to charity, the interest alone on what’s left keeps me rich beyond anything I know what to do with. So if I was pregnant, which I’m not, I wouldn’t need you anyway.’
CHAPTER TEN
PLEASE LEAVE, ZOE begged silently, just wanting to escape Maks’s far too probing eyes. Relief moved through her when he finally walked to the door and stepped over the threshold.
He turned around. Grim. ‘If what you say is true then I owe you an apology. Simpson victimised you as much as me.’
Hurt gripped her again at his reluctance to trust her. ‘You don’t owe me anything.’
Zoe shut the door and stood in a stupor for a long moment, staring at her closed door. She heard the sound of the main door closing heavily. The throttle of a powerful engine.
In spite of her brave words just now, she knew it wasn’t the last she’d see of Maks. Not by a long shot. Not just because he might come back to apologise, as his integrity would demand. But for another far more pressing reason.
Her hand went to her belly. She’d lied. Unforgivably. Blatantly. She was pregnant and her little bump was growing every day. But the shock of having Maks here in her space, confronting her, suggesting she might have been colluding with Dean Simpson, had decimated any urge she might have had to tell him today.
Of course she would tell him she was pregnant. When she could do so on her terms. When she could prepare herself for the inevitable distaste she’d see on his face. When she would be able to stand in front of him and tell him calmly and rationally that she was prepared to do this on her own and didn’t expect him to take responsibility.
Terrified, but filled with a sense of focus and a determination to get over her fear of loss and grief, she knew she owed it to her baby to do her best to try. To create a secure life for them both. To shield them from the fear she would feel every day.
It was time to reassess her experiences and do things differently. She had a child to support now. She couldn’t continue like an out-of-work student, skirting around the edges of life, ignoring the fact that she had the means to live well. It wasn’t just about her and her guilt any more.
* * *
Maks felt sick. It had taken the most rudimentary of internet searches to find the news reports on the tragic crash that had killed Zoe’s family. Leaving her the sole survivor. There’d been pictures of the car wreckage that had made him feel weak, and pictures of Zoe, taken before the crash.
Her father had been tall and dashingly handsome, her mother blonde and beautiful. Like Zoe. There’d been pictures of a three-year-old Zoe holding her baby brother, grinning proudly. And a lot of breathless speculation about the young, tragically orphaned heiress.
It also hadn’t been hard to find the philanthropic foundation she’d set up to donate money anonymously to various charities. Set up—Maks suspected—on her eighteenth birthday.
He recalled how she’d sounded almost bewildered when she’d mentioned the fact that no matter what she did the interest kept growing on her remaining inheritance. He’d never met anyone before who’d actively tried to get rid of money.
The way she’d denied herself out of a sense of guilt and grief made Maks’s chest feel tight.
A knock sounded on his home office door. Hamish stuck his head around it. ‘Lunch, boss?’
Maks didn’t feel hungry. He stood up. ‘No. Can you get my assistant to meet me here? And call my legal team. I have some information for them.’
‘Sure thing.’
Hamish left and Maks walked over to the window, looking out unseeingly. Zoe wasn’t pregnant. And even if she was, as she’d pointed out, she didn’t actually need his support.
He should be feeling relieved. She was right. A family was the last thing he’d ever wanted. A baby. No matter what kind of ache he might have felt when he’d thought of his brother Nikos and his family. An ache that was still there now.
He’d misjudged Zoe badly. And any sense of betrayal that she hadn’t told him about her family was fading fast. He could understand why.
A mixture of complicated emotions roiled in his gut. He didn’t usually judge people out of hand. He was actually far less likely to jump to conclusions than either of his brothers. But with Zoe... She’d pushed his buttons from the moment he’d first seen her. And at the first sign of an opportunity to believe the worst about her he’d jumped at it.
The worst thing was, he knew exactly why he’d reacted like that. Because he hadn’t been prepared to admit that he still wanted her. That he wasn’t ready to let her go. And more. Much more.
* * *
Zoe stood on the stony beach and looked out at the Irish Sea. It was a blustery day with leaden skies. Typical Irish weather. She turned around and looked up to the cliff behind her, where a distinctive yellow house stood out. That had been her home. The family home where she’d felt loved and safe and as if nothing could touch her.