He had the satisfaction of seeing Anna’s face go white.
She wasn’t the only one. Mrs. Burbridge was edging uncomfortably toward the door. “I...er...now that you’re both here with your son, I can see you have much to discuss. I’ll go and take my tea, if you’ll pardon me...”
Nikos barely noticed the woman leave.
“You can’t throw me out,” Anna said. “I’m his mother. I have rights.”
“You’re lucky you’re not in jail. You have no idea how much I’d love to hand you to my lawyers. Letting them stomp you like grapes in a vat would give me a great deal of joy.”
She looked scared, even as she raised her chin defiantly. “So why don’t you do it, then?”
“Because my son needs you. For now.” He came closer to her. “But that won’t last forever. In the meantime, just give me an excuse, the slightest provocation, and you’re out the door.”
“You can’t force me away from my son!”
“I can’t?” He gave her a hard look, then shook his head with a disbelieving snort. “You and your whole aristocratic family really think the world revolves around you and your wants, don’t you? To hell with everybody else.”
“That’s not true!”
“You’re too much of a bad influence to raise my child. You’re a thief, and the daughter of a thief. Your family mooched off others their whole pathetic lives. Your father was a selfish, immature bastard who never cared about anyone but himself, no matter what it cost the people who loved him—”
He stopped himself, realizing it was no longer Anna’s father he was talking about.
She gave him a knowing glance, causing his teeth to set on edge. She knew too damn much. Ever since the night they’d conceived Michael, when he’d been stupid enough to spill his guts, she’d known the chinks in his armor. He hated her for that.
It had been the confusion and pain of finding out about his father that had sent Nikos to her house last year, expecting his perfect secretary to fix the ache as she fixed everything else in his life. But he hadn’t expected to end up in Anna’s bed. No matter how gorgeous she was, he never would have slept with her if he’d been in his right mind. Anna had been too important to his work—too important in his life—for him to screw it up that way. But, seeking comfort, he’d fallen into her bed and they’d conceived Michael. He’d never had a moment’s peace since.
His son started to whimper again.
Anna snuggled the baby close. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?” With some hesitation, she looked up, biting her lip. “Nikos, I need to feed the baby. Do you mind?”
Itching for a fight, Nikos sat down on the blue overstuffed sofa, pretending to make himself comfortable. “No, I don’t mind at all.” He indicated the nearby rocking chair.
She stared at him in amazement. “You think I’ll do it in front of you?”
“Why not?”
“You’re out of your mind.”
“What? Are you scared?” He raised his eyebrows. “You have no reason to be. I’ve seen everything you have to offer.”
Although that was true, it wasn’t true at all. With her loose ponytail, that left dark tendrils cascading against her white skin, she looked very different from the tightly controlled, buttoned-up woman he remembered. And even in the baggy T-shirt she was wearing he could see that her breasts were larger. They’d been perfect before. He remembered them well, remembered cupping them in his hands, licking slowly across the full nipples, until she’d moaned and writhed beneath him, making love to them after he’d brought her to —twice—with his mouth. What were her breasts like now beneath that shirt?
He suddenly realized he was rock-hard.
He was supposed to torture her, not the other way around. He willed the desire away. He didn’t want her. He didn’t want her.
“Fine. Stay. I don’t care,” she said, although he could tell by the defiant expression on her beautiful pale face that she cared very much. Grabbing the diaper bag with her free hand, she set it down with a plop on the floor by the cushioned rocking chair. Rummaging through the bag, she pulled out several items before she found a blanket. A small vial fell out and rolled across the floor. He picked it up. The label was in Russian.
“What’s this?”
“Baby painkiller,” she said. “He’s teething.”
“At his age?”
“It’s a little early, but not uncommon.” Her fingers seemed clumsy as she used the blue blanket, decorated with safari animals, to cover both baby and breast before she pulled up her T-shirt. The baby’s wails immediately faded to a blissful silence, punctuated with contented gulps.
It shouldn’t have been erotic, but it was. Every movement she made, every breath she took, seemed electric in Nikos’s overcharged state.
He pressed his lips together, remembering how her whole body had trembled when he’d kissed her in the library. The way she’d melted into his arms when he’d brushed his lips against hers.
And before. After they’d found out she was pregnant he’d barely left her side for six months. Every inch of his skin, every cell of his body tingled with the memory. Remembering lovemaking so hot that it had nearly set his bed on fire. Not just his bed. When they hadn’t been fighting about the way he’d forced her to relax and take care of herself, they’d made love everywhere—in the kitchen, the conference room, the home theater. Against the wall in the courtyard one rainy day. And in the back of his helicopter the time he’d wanted to fly her over the Grand Canyon. They’d never made it off the ground.
She glanced up at him now, her turquoise eyes so cool and distant. I’m too good for you, her eyes seemed to say. She had a royal bloodline of a thousand years. The great-granddaughter of a Russian princess, she was a fantasy of ice and fire. He’d never experienced any woman like her.
Watching her now, nursing his son, he came to a sudden decision.
She deserved to suffer.
But there was no reason to make himself suffer as well.
Tonight. He would have her in his bed tonight.
CHAPTER THREE
A SLOW BURN spread across Anna’s cheeks as Nikos watched her nurse their child. She pulled the blanket a little higher, making sure her breast was covered, but she could still feel his eyes on her. It made her feel naked.
Funny to think she’d once dreamed of this moment, of nursing their baby in the gorgeous, spare-no-expense baby suite she’d decorated, with Nikos sitting beside her. A happy family. She’d dreamed that Nikos would love her, be faithful to her, and someday propose to her.
Now the dream tasted like ashes in her mouth.
Perhaps he hadn’t purposefully set out to ruin her father, but he’d kept his involvement in his business a secret. If Anna had known, she could have found a way to save her father from himself, to prevent the depression after his bankruptcy that had caused him to drink himself to death. Nikos should have told her. Instead, he’d tried to shield her from everything, as if she were a helpless doll. It was as if the moment she’d become pregnant he’d suddenly lost all trust in her and in the world around them.
Thank God she’d given up on waiting for him to love her. Too bad it had taken her so long to wise up. After five years as his secretary, watching his revolving door policy with women, she’d been stupid to ever think he would ever change.
But for her to run away had been trading one stupidity for another. She’d dragged her newborn baby from Las Vegas to Spain to Paris, always on the run, living in cheap, tiny apartments with paper-thin walls and mattresses that sagged in the middle. Even in her great-grandmother’s old palace there’d been no heat or electricity.
That was no life for a baby. In trying to do better for her child, she’d done worse. Nikos had been right to criticize her. Misha deserved a life of comfort and security.
And he deserved to spend time with the father who loved him.
But how could Anna remain here with him and survive? Nikos had made his intentions clear. He would shred her apart without remorse. Glancing at him now, she shivered at the darkness in his eyes. No, she couldn’t stay here. That path led to endless days of seduction...a lifetime of heartbreak.
She silently cursed herself. Last year, when Nikos had unexpectedly shown up on her doorstep, she’d opened her arms...her bed...her soul. She should have slammed the door in his face, thrown all her bags into her car and headed east on Interstate 15. If she had, she might have still been in New York. Working. Single. Free.
But then Misha would never have been born.
That focused her. The past didn’t matter. Her mistakes were old news. Her son was all that mattered now. And she wasn’t going to let him grow up in this cold house with that cold brute.
But how could someone as small and powerless as Anna fight a billionaire ensconced in his own private fortress? He had money, power, and the added immunity of having no heart. What weapons did she have against him? Her family had no money. Her heart was an easy target.