A Ring for the Greek's Baby

‘My father is a high-profile businessman here and in the US, and of course the press love salacious stories like that,’ he said. ‘The young woman got offered a large sum of money for a tell-all interview. I can’t say I blame her, but it’s made my life difficult, because everyone’s waiting to pounce on a “like father, like son” follow-up story.’

Emily could see the invidious position Loukas was in with her pregnancy. No wonder he’d insisted on marriage. He would be keen to avoid any remote comparison with his father. But marriage was meant to be a sacred commitment between two people who loved each other. How could he possibly think a marriage between them would work? They barely knew each other. ‘Loukas, it’s terrible what happened to that poor girl—shocking and awfully sad. But you’re not your father, and shouldn’t be judged by his standards or lack thereof.’

‘Try telling the media that.’

Emily sat quietly for the rest of the journey back to her flat. Loukas seemed disinclined to talk and she could hardly blame him. In the space of the evening, he had found out he was to become a father, had had to deal with her cutting her finger and fainting and take her to hospital and deal with an inquisitive public and hospital staff. She would discuss the marriage thing when they had both had a decent night’s sleep and were in a better frame of mind.

But, when Loukas turned the corner to the townhouse her little flat was housed in, she realised the night wasn’t over yet. Loukas slowed down to swing into the parking space two spots behind her car. ‘Are you expecting visitors?’ he asked.

‘No.’ Emily shrank back down in the seat as a man wielding a camera came rushing towards the car. A woman with a recording device was close behind. Another person hopped out of a car further along the street and came towards Loukas’s side with a camera poised. Emily sent Loukas a panicked glance. ‘How did they find me?’

‘Someone must have tipped them off at the hospital,’ Loukas said. ‘Let me handle it.’ He wound down his driver’s side window to the approaching journalist.

The man leaned down. ‘Mr Kyprianos, a source tells us you and Miss Seymour are engaged and expecting a baby. Do you have any comment to make?’

‘Only to say we’re thrilled to be getting married and starting a family,’ Loukas said. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have things to do.’

He got out of the car and came around to Emily’s side, but the female journalist was already at the passenger window. ‘Miss Seymour, how does it feel to be engaged to one of Greece’s most eligible bachelors?’

Emily got out of the car and slipped her hand into Loukas’s. ‘It’s...great. Wonderful. Amazing. I mean, he’s amazing. Truly amazing and so kind and thoughtful and...’

Loukas’s arm went around Emily’s waist, drawing her close to his side. ‘That’s it, everyone. Emily’s had a big day. So if you’ll excuse—’

‘What happened to your hand, Emily?’ the same journalist asked.

‘I—I broke a perfume bottle and cut my finger.’

‘What does your father think of becoming a grandfather, Loukas?’ one of the other journalists asked. ‘Have you told him yet?’

‘No, but I’m sure you’ll take care of that for me,’ Loukas said with an on-off movement of his lips. He led Emily to her front door and gestured for her to hand him the key. She rummaged in her purse, handed the key to him and Loukas unlocked the door and led her inside.

‘How quickly can you pack a bag?’ he asked once they were safely inside with the door closed.

Emily looked at him blankly. ‘A bag? What for?’

‘I’m taking you back to my hotel,’ he said. ‘It will be safer than here until this blows over.’

‘So much for patient confidentiality,’ she muttered, not quite under her breath.

‘It wouldn’t have been Dr Freeman. As you pointed out, it could’ve been anyone at the hospital. My money is on those two women. They probably got your address off the form you filled in.’

Emily folded her arms, casting him a look that would have done a jealous wife proud. ‘If Dr Freeman hadn’t got called away that night would you have slept with her?’

He gave her an unreadable glance. ‘Maybe. Maybe not.’

‘She was up for it,’ she said. ‘In fact, if you hadn’t told her we were engaged, I reckon she would have asked for your number to hook up with you after work. You could be with her right now, having smoking-hot sex, instead of stuck here with—’

‘Emily.’ There was a strong note of calm reproof in his tone.

Emily was close to tears and spun away from him to pull the curtains across the windows to block the paparazzi from seeing inside her flat. Her life was spinning out of control. How could this be happening? One day she was anonymous, the next she was being hunted down like a famous celebrity. When would it stop? Would it stop?

‘I reckon she’s wondering how on earth you could have chosen me over her. I bet those journalists out there are wondering it too. And so will everyone who reads tomorrow’s gossip. A man like you choosing a boring, unsophisticated legal secretary from Tottenham over an emergency docto

r from Knightsbridge? What a joke.’

He came up close and turned her to face him, flinching when he saw her shimmering eyes. He lifted a hand to her face and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, brushing away a couple of tears from the side of her left eye. ‘Please don’t cry.’

‘I—I’m not c-crying.’ Emily sniffed.