Carrying the Greek's Heir

She pushed her fringe out of her eyes. ‘Is that supposed to be a threat?’

‘Not a threat, no. But you haven’t yet heard my side of the bargain.’ Alek stared at her mutinous face. He knew what he had to do. No matter how much it flew in the face of everything he believed in, he was going to have to make sacrifices for his child in a way nobody had ever done for him. He was going to have to marry her. Because it was far better to have her by his side as his wife, than to leave her free to behave like a loose cannon, with his child helpless and without his protection.

His heart clenched. ‘If you want my ring on your finger, then you’re going to have to act like a wife,’ he said. ‘You will live with me—’

‘I told you that wasn’t—’

‘I don’t care what you told me,’ he interrupted impatiently. ‘If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it properly. I want this wedding to mimic all the traditions of what a wedding should be.’

‘M-mimic?’ she echoed, in confusion. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Can’t you guess?’ His mouth twisted into a bitter smile. ‘We will pretend. You will wear a white dress and look deep into my eyes and play the part of my adoring bride. Do you think you can manage that, Ellie?’

Ellie’s stomach began to rumble and she wondered if he could hear it in the strange silence which had descended. It seemed a long time since she’d eaten that apple on the train. In fact, it seemed a long time since she’d done anything which felt remotely normal. One minute she’d been waiting tables and the next she was standing discussing marriage with a cold-eyed billionaire who was telling her to pretend to care about him. Suddenly she felt like a feather which had found itself bouncing around on a jet stream.

‘You want to make it into some sort of farce,’ she breathed.

‘Not a farce. Just a performance credible enough to convince the outside world that we have fallen in love.’

‘But why?’ she questioned. ‘Why not just treat it like the contract we both know it is?’

He flexed his fingers and she saw the whitening of his knuckles through the deep olive skin.

‘Because I want my child to have memories,’ he said harshly. ‘To be able to look at photos of their mother and father on their wedding day, and even if they are no longer together—which obviously, we won’t be—then at least there will be the consolation that once we were an item.’

‘But that’s...that’s a lie!’

‘Or just illusionary?’ he questioned bitterly. ‘Isn’t that what life is? An illusion? People see what others want them to see. And I don’t want my child hurt. Let him believe that once his parents loved one another.’

Ellie watched his face become ravaged by a pain he couldn’t hide. It clouded the brilliance of his blue eyes and darkened his features into a rugged mask. And despite everything, she wanted to reach out and ask him what had caused him a hurt so palpable that just witnessing it seemed intrusive. She wanted to put her arms around him and cradle him.

But he looked so remote in his beautifully cut suit, with its dark fabric moulding his powerful limbs and the white shirt collar which contrasted against his gleaming skin. He looked so proud and patrician that he seemed almost untouchable, which was pretty ironic when you thought about it. She cleared her throat. ‘And when should this marriage take place?’

‘I think as soon as possible, don’t you? There’s something a little in your face about a bride who is so obviously pregnant. I’ll have my lawyers draw up a contract and you will move into my London apartment. We can discuss buying you a property after the birth.’

Ellie felt as if her old life was already fading. As if she’d been plucked from obscurity and placed in the spotlight of Alek’s glamorous existence and she was suddenly beginning to realise just how powerful that spotlight could be. But when she stopped to think about it, what did she imagine would happen next? That she’d carry on selling cupcakes while wearing his ring on her finger? ‘I suppose so,’ she agreed.

His blue gaze raked over her. ‘You’ve lost weight,’ he observed.

‘I get sick in the mornings, but it usually wears off by mid-afternoon.’

‘Yet you’re expecting to carry on working?’

‘I’ll manage,’ she said stubbornly. ‘Most women do.’

‘And after the birth—what then? Will your baby take second place to your career?’