Christmas Baby For The Greek

He dropped her wrist.

“It’s unlikely you’re pregnant after just one night. But if anything happens,” he drawled, “you’ll let my lawyers know, won’t you?”

Her lips parted in confusion. “Your lawyers?”

“Yes. If you’re pregnant, they’ll take care of it.”

Her face went white, then red. Then her green eyes narrowed with cold fury. “You’re too kind.”

Stavros had played the part of a coldhearted, womanizing louse to perfection, insinuating that he would have his lawyers pay her off if there was a child. Insinuating he was too busy and important to even be bothered with such a minor detail.

No wonder she was now looking at him as if he was the most despicable human being on earth.

“That’s all.” He tilted his head, making his eyes as frozen and gray as the world outside. “Now get out.”

With an intake of breath, Holly said in a trembling voice, “I wish I’d never met you.”

And turning on her heel, she left his penthouse, taking all the warmth and light with her, leaving Stavros alone in the coldest Christmas he’d ever known.

CHAPTER FIVE

Eleven months later

HOLLY PAUSED IN shoveling snow, taking a deep breath that turned to smoke in the chill air. All around her, sunshine illuminated the snow, making the white blanket sparkle like diamonds.

It was the day after Thanksgiving, and for the first time in her life, she was spending it alone—and in Switzerland, of all places. Farther from home than she could ever have imagined last Christmas, when her heart had been so savagely broken.

She leaned against the shovel. A soft smile lifted to her face as she looked toward the porch. But she wasn’t alone, not truly. She’d never be alone again.

Late November snow was nearly four feet deep around the winding path that led from her tiny chalet, just a rustic cabin really, to the sliver of main road. The nearest village was a mile away, tucked in a remote valley of the Swiss Alps, and even that was nearly deserted in winter. The nearest real market town was Zedermatt, where the festive outdoor Christmas market would open today. A friend had begged her to accompany him there this afternoon. Somewhat hesitantly, she’d agreed. Why not enjoy the season?

Holly’s days of working long hours in an office, always filled with stress and urgency, now seemed like a strange dream from long ago. Here, there was only tranquility and peace, and of course, snow, but she’d gotten used to that, shoveling the path to her door every day, and listening to the quiet sound of snowflakes each night against the slanted roof.

In the last year, everything had changed. Her old life in New York, the person she’d once been, were all gone. So much lost. But even more gained.

A baby’s gurgle came from the small porch of her chalet, and Holly looked up tenderly, with a familiar joy in her heart.

“Are you hungry, sweet boy?” Shoveling the last few scoops of wet snow from the path to the road, she carried the shovel back toward the chalet. She tromped her winter boots heavily to knock off the snow, then climbed the steps to the porch and smiled down at her sweet two-month-old baby, Freddie, named after her own beloved father.

The baby gurgled and waved his arms happily, at least as much as he could do, bundled up as he was in a one-piece winter fleece that covered him from mittens to hood, tucked snugly into the baby seat with a blanket over the top.

“We’ll get you fed,” Holly promised, smiling. Setting down the shovel nearby, she lifted the baby seat’s handle and carried him inside.

Inside the rustic cabin, a fire blazed in the old stone fireplace. This chalet was two hundred years old, with low ceilings braced with hand-hewn wooden beams. The furniture wasn’t quite as old, but close. And the place was tiny: there was only one bedroom. But every day since she’d arrived here, pregnant and heartbroken, last February, she’d blessed her former employer, who’d offered her free lodging in exchange for keeping an eye on the place.

Coming inside, Holly set down the baby carrier then pushed the door closed behind her to keep out the frozen air. She yanked off her heavy winter coat and colorful hand-knitted hat, hanging them on the coat rack while she shook errant snowflakes out of her long red braid. Pulling off her boots, she left them on towels placed just inside the door and stepped nimbly into the room, wearing a loose green sweater and snug black leggings ending in thick warm socks.

Unbuckling Freddie out of the carrier, she changed his diaper then wrapped him snugly in a soft baby blanket. Cradling him in her arms, she carried him to the worn sofa near the fire. As she fed the baby, he looked up at her with big wondering eyes, nestling his tiny hand between her breasts.

Holly had arrived here in a panic in February, wondering how she’d ever cope with raising a child on her own. Then she’d remembered: she already had. She’d raised her baby sister when Holly was barely more than a child herself.

After Stavros had coldly thrown her out of his bed last Christmas morning, she’d never gone back to her job at Minos International. She hadn’t even gone back to collect her carefully tended plant or framed photos of her sister. A friend had collected them for her, along with her last check.

Holly had had money in her savings account. She’d learned to be careful with money the hard way, at eighteen, when she’d found herself with a little sister to raise and very little money from her parents’ life insurance to support them. Ever since, she’d always been careful.

That saved her when, in mid-January as she’d started her job search, she’d discovered the real source of the stomach flu she hadn’t been able to shake: she was pregnant.

And the memory of Stavros’s words in bed on Christmas morning chilled her. If you’re pregnant, let my lawyers know...they’ll take care of it.