In the act of brushing his suit free of dog hairs and muddy pawprints, Atreus saw Lindy in the doorway, blue eyes violet-bright and the summer sunlight picking up the sheen of her chestnut-coloured hair, which had grown in length since he’d last seen her and now fell well past her shoulders. Bitter icy-cold anger engulfed him, because he had always trusted her and had never dreamt that she might pull such a stunt on him.
‘If we had to see each other I would rather it hadn’t been here. This is my home,’ Lindy told him with quiet dignity. ‘And you’re spoiling my Sunday. You’re going to make me late for church.’
Atreus was distracted by her concluding comment, snatched back to the weekends when he had regarded keeping her in bed with him rather than rushing off to church as the ultimate challenge.
‘Who sold the story to the Sunday Voice?’ he queried, before he had even entered the cottage.
His lean bronzed features were cool and grim, but he could not conceal the hot angry gold of his arrogant gaze. He was still the most beautiful man she had ever seen, and the admission annoyed her—for she felt that a truly intelligent woman would by now be indifferent to his vibrant dark good-looks.
‘How would I know?’ Lindy riposted. ‘Lots of people knew about us in the village, even though they said nothing to my face. Everybody on the estate knew as well. We weren’t exactly the world’s biggest secret.’
‘So, you’re saying that you didn’t sell it?’ Atreus caught a sideways glimpse of her altered shape and stared at the fecund swell of her stomach with frowning force. There was certainly no doubt that she was pregnant.
Shifting uncomfortably beneath that stare, Lindy shot him a furious glance. ‘No, indeed I did not. I’m not short of money, and I wouldn’t sell details of my private life even if I was!’
Atreus was treating the elegant modern fittings of the living room to a curious appraisal. ‘This seems to be a comfortable house.’
‘It is. Alissa oversaw the renovation project for all the buildings on the estate, and she never does anything by halves,’ she advanced. ‘If you’ve come all the way here to accuse me of giving the press that story, I can assure you that you’re barking up the wrong tree. I had nothing to gain and everything to lose from that article appearing in print because I value my privacy.’
Razor-sharp dark golden eyes scanned her angry resentful expression. ‘I didn’t come here to argue with you.’
‘No?’ Elevating a brow and standing her ground, Lindy looked unimpressed by that claim.
‘No,’ Atreus framed flatly. ‘But I am very angry that such an outrageous account of our relationship has been published and I intend to sue.’
‘Good for you,’ Lindy pronounced, tongue in cheek. ‘No doubt you’ll win, and six months from now, when everyone has long since forgotten the original article, the newspaper will print a retraction low down on some boring page where virtually no one will even notice it or read it. Is it really worth all that hassle?’
Her mockery made his black brows draw together. ‘It’s not quite that simple. My family in Greece will be very much shocked by that item…’ He cloaked his stunning eyes with dense black lashes. ‘You may not be aware of it, but I have been thinking of getting engaged…’
Lindy wrinkled her nose. ‘Too much information, Atreus,’ she said, very drily.
Atreus threw back his wide powerful shoulders as if he was bracing himself to continue. ‘What I intended to say, if you had not interrupted me, is that this story is a source of embarrassment for Krista, the woman I’m currently seeing, and to her family and friends as well. We are not the only people affected by what appeared in the newspaper today.’
Lindy was feeling sick with tension, and listening to Atreus talk about the effect of that article on Krista only made her feel worse than ever. Had he ever cared about her that way? For even a moment? Had he even thought of how performing this knight on a white horse act on Krista’s behalf might make Lindy feel? But then why should he think or even care now? His indifference was like a knife twisting inside her, and she was defenceless against the pain of it.
She shook her head, the shiny strands of rich brown hair rippling across her slim shoulders. ‘I really don’t know what you’re doing here.’
‘I want you to agree to make a statement that the child you are carrying is not mine. Just to set the record straight for us all,’ Atreus completed, smooth as silk. ‘I have brought one of my company lawyers here with me. He’s waiting in the helicopter and will advise you on the correct wording.’